FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Nestled in the slightly-quieter corner I'd found, I nursed my drink and marvelled at all the other animals in here. I had tiny ferret ears so I was fine, but how could they _all handle this noise? I spotted very few earplugs, not even on that horse over there. Not even on that _fennec, gods that had to be a nightmare. It was at least decently good music for a club, but the DJ cranked it way the fuck up as they always did. A hundred shouted conversations rumbled under the bass. But they all seemed like they were having the time of their lives anyway, so who was I to judge, I guessed.

It was a bit of a mistake to come here alone. I'd only ever been to a nightclub with friends, and... well Elysium was the only one I'd ever gone to, but tonight I'd been desperate to get out of my apartment. I knew it was a long shot, but maybe I'd see someone I knew. Or at least recognized.

Unfortunately, no. So I'd settled into the awkward zones at the edges of the room for the long haul. There was at least a certain pleasure from just wallflowering and soaking up the raw social energy of the scene, though it wasn't really doing as much as I'd hoped to relieve the tension in my shoulders. Still, it wasn't a total loss. At least I was out of the house, though the overpriced drinks stung a bit.

I'd scrolled on my phone, animal-watched, grabbed a snack and lounged around for a good while, when I noticed a bit of a shift in the high-energy tone. After a song with particularly aggressive bass ended, the music and lights shifted to something a little calmer while a smoother house track played. A blue-purple haze settled all around the room, and I settled back into my corner a little more. In the edge of my vision, I noticed the DJ was taking a break, and someone was following him.

"Hey," I heard from my other side. I perked up, someone was settling down along the same bench as me. I had a table in front of me, affording me some kind of personal space barrier at least.

I couldn't quite tell what he was at first. Somehow he was even shorter than me, but he looked like... An otter? Definitely an otter, once I'd glimpsed his ruddertail curled under the backrest. Usually otters were so much taller though. His hair caught my eye, a brushed-back mohawk of fiery orange-red complemented by a matching goatee that stood out in the chromatic gloom. I wondered if he'd dyed it to get it that bright.

"How's the night treating you?" he asked, and I realized I'd been staring.

"Uh good!" Ugh that was such a default thing to say. "I mean, could be better. I usually come here with friends, but not tonight. So I'm just hanging out." I turned a bit, trying to make better contact with his deep green eyes. At least I thought they were green, it was hard to tell behind his tinted glasses with the swimming sea of lights all over us.

"Ah, sorry to hear that. Though I mean, if you're coming here..." He gestured a bit towards the crowd, left his implication hanging, but his eyebrows curled in a slightly salacious way.

"W-what?" He was definitely coming on to me. Oh gods. I mean I _knew _it was a gay bar, but I didn't know if I was ready for this.

Seeing my reaction, he shifted tack a little bit. "Oh, I mean, this place has a reputation for being one of those..._ more open_ clubs."

"You mean... Like..." I'd noticed a lot less clothing than I would expect, but plenty of animals wore less when they were inside... Right?

He grinned, fangs glowing under some distant blacklight. "You didn't know, huh? That's adorable. No judgement, I just think that's cute as fuck."

I couldn't help but stammer. The otter was definitely eyeing me, propping himself on his arm closest to me to lean just a bit nearer. His tongue slid across his teeth. Despite my nerves, the attention was more than a little bit intoxicating... I felt my sheath bulge, and his eyes went right to it.

My eyes were drawn to a similar down-below kind of twitch on him, and I suddenly realized that this otter was barely wearing anything at all! On his top half he wore a red vest over a white t-shirt with some sci-fi looking logo I didn't recognize. On his lower half was... Nothing. His package was just straight up hanging, and gods did it hang heavy. He had to be like four foot something, but he had the biggest sheath and balls I'd ever seen, bigger than a horse's! His soda-can-thick sheath came up to his navel and a bit of a dark-fleshed point was starting to peek out, I mean what can you do but gape at something like that. And here he was just casually hanging out without even a table to cover him.

"Y-you uh... Are looking really open yourself." I chuckled. I hoped it wasn't an awkward chuckle.

"Feels great. They don't make much in my size, anyway." He sidled closer, mischievous mustelid grin in full force. "Looks like you don't mind though. May I?"

Fuck, was I really doing this? I hadn't come out here expecting something. And I didn't even know how far he wanted to take this. Plus, I really wasn't expecting it to be such a... Public thing. I was certain this place had backrooms, but he didn't look like he wanted to wait.

He noticed my eyes darting around. "Never done it out and about before? That's okay. I can keep it discreet if you'd like. And if you just don't want to, that's okay. _You _set the pace, tell the horny otter what you want."

Somehow, being given the reins like that made my sheath bulge even further. I could feel my tip swelling out. My paws darted down, tugging open my jeans before any sensitive bits got mashed against the denim.

"I uh... Yeah. Not used to... Doing that though..."

He watched my paws intently, almost hungrily. "If you're not sure... And you're a bit nervous about prying eyes... Could I suggest a little under-the-table service?"

I glanced at his massive, peeking sheath. There was no way I was getting my jaw around that. "Er, you're a bit..."

He whipped his head up to bark, "Ha! No no, I meant..." He slid much closer now, an arm coming up around my shoulders. I felt his long whiskers tickling near my ear as he tipped his muzzle up so I could hear his sultry murmur, "why don't I slide down there and take care of you? I'd be delighted to get my muzzle on you. Help you take a load off."

My nose twitched erratically as my spine tingled, my tail thrashed, and I felt a strong throb from beneath. At least one part of me liked that idea a lot, and the sheer intimacy was lighting up my whole nervous system. The otter slid his webbed paw along my thigh enticingly, clacking the back of his claws against my jeans button, and I realized he was waiting for an explicit yes.

"Y-yeah. Yes. Absolutely. Please." My ears were burning hot, I was sure they were bright pink.

A delighted churr, and he darted under the table feet-first, otter-wriggling his way to work with fervor. Immediately his paws shucked my pants, gripping so the underwear came down too. I gasped, cock and balls fully exposed to the air all of a sudden, and his paw wrapped around my base to keep my erection from slapping up against anything.

Starting with a bit of a tease, he nosed at my tip. I groaned and swore under my breath, footpaws kicking a little. It had been so long, but I didn't realize just how pent up I was. Maybe this was why I was tense in the first place.

I felt him taking a long, slow breath in through his nose, savoring my scent and tickling me with his whiskers and lips. The paw at my base kneaded gently, coaxing me all the way out.

He moved, and then something hot and wet and firm was dragging up along the underside of my cock— that had to be his tongue— and I felt myself leaking. Trembling and throbbing and leaking, holy hell I didn't even usually leak, he hadn't even started and I felt like I was going to blow instantly. Every nerve felt like it was standing at attention, begging for more.

He kneaded more at my base to redirect the raging storm a little. I throbbed hard, felt like I got even harder if that was possible. Finally his lips kissed my head, parted, and took me in.

I dug my claws into the edges of my seat cushion, trying not to yowl. His tongue wrapping around me and the ridges on the roof of his mouth, and the heat, oh gods _the heat just wrapping every inch of my cock, _so _intense. I couldn't help it, my hips shifted on their own, humping into the glorious pleasure. It wasn't my first blowjob, but fuck if he didn't make me feel like I'd never had a _real one before.

His muzzle bobbed, I heard him moan in satisfaction, rumbling through my shaft and keeping his steady pace. For several long, blissful moments he kept it simple, just bobbing back and forth, squeezing, curling his tongue around my shaft, turning his head to keep the texture novel. I didn't feel a hint of teeth the whole time.

Soon the otter's other paw came up to cradle my balls, gently squeezing, stroking, working his digits into some odd spots in and around my balls. I twitched and groaned, feeling like he was kneading right at the glands themselves, making me spurt and throb and pulse against his tongue. The pleasure spiked, built, hazed over my whole body with buzzing warmth.

I was sure I looked absolutely ridiculous to everyone in the room, panting and huffing, squirming, biting my lip and rolling my eyes, rutting against the table like a feral. But I couldn't focus on anything else anymore, nothing existed but me, my cock, and this glorious maw and set of paws playing my cock and balls like a virtuoso. I had the reins, sure, but it was clear who the real puppetmaster was here.

He tightened around me and far too soon, too fast for me to react, I suddenly hit my peak. I yelped for just a moment before I could clamp my paws around my muzzle, sinking down to thump my whole torso onto the table.

The otter gulped around me, pulling two, four, five full shots out of me. Still my cock bucked, oozing, trying to shoot even more and failing. I panted, tongue hanging from my maw. Gods I couldn't remember a time I'd ever shot that much.

I felt rumbling vibrations around my cock, a murrl of deep satisfaction and another final gulp.

Finally, slowly, he pulled off and I shuddered at the touch of cooler air again, slinking up into a proper sitting position. His muzzle appeared under the table, all fangs and mirth, "Nicely done there. You've got a great cock."

I chuckled, I didn't think anyone had ever complimented my cock. It felt oddly nice. "Thanks... I really needed that, as I'm sure you can tell."

"You still need it," he said. It wasn't a question. I felt his paw squeeze me again, and bafflingly I was still hard.

"What, but... How...?"

"Better get back to wooooorrrrrrk~" he teased in a sing-songy voice.

His muzzle started to recede again but I interjected, "Wait!"

"Mmyess?"

I was all out of sorts. By now I expected to be passed out, but I felt... Somehow I really did feel like I could go another round. Like somehow that mind-blowing orgasm had only taken the edge off. It took me a moment to reconcile my body with my expectations.

"But... I don't... Uh—"

He cut off my useless stammering, "All I know is that you're begging for more down here. You've still got plenty in the tank. So until I hear a 'no'..."

He grinned and my tail fluttered with a little bit of fear. The otter looked so predatory, so hungry as he growled, "I'm gonna drink you dry, ferret boy."

The muzzle disappeared and I felt him on my cock again; he didn't spare a single second in taking me straight back into his maw and slurping at me, coaxing me to shoot precum for him to drink once more. I'd expected to feel the overstimulated burn as I always did after the first one, but somehow it was like I hadn't cum at all, the pressure still built so easily as the otter's skilled maw and tongue worked on me.

The pleasure only built and the haze in my brain followed, he kept working me and working me and my need kept just pouring out of me, never tiring. If anything it felt like my erection got a little stronger somehow, through the fog I noticed that sometimes I got a little deeper into his throat than the last time, or it took him a bit longer to pull up and down along my full, throbbing length.

It felt like no time at all until I hit my peak again, hunched over and clenching at the table, yawping louder than I wanted to but unable to stop myself as I fired an even fuller salvo into his maw, six shots of cum greedily devoured. I panted, trying to catch my breath, and he paused for a moment... But he didn't surface. Instead I felt him kneading at my sheath, teasing me further... No way. I couldn't be— my cock throbbed hard, and I knew that somehow I wasn't done. Somehow the need was only even more. I'd only once before ever cum twice in a row, and now I was going to go for three?!

He dove back in, and the cycle began again. Again and again and again _he worked me, bobbing and sucking as relentlessly as the pounding techno overwhelming the club. The otter kneaded my thighs, teased my nerves, trailed back along my hips to dig his paws into my tailbase and rump, every nerve he could touch he worked his magic on, and I was helpless to do anything but thrust and cum, throb and thrust and yip and pant and _cum, seven shots, eight, a dozen at the very peak of my mind-destroying orgasms, shattering every standard I'd ever had.

And oh gods was he feasting. Through my haze I heard him mrrfhing and slurping and gulping and squeaking, thumps of his tail hitting the floor and nearby chairs, thumps of something else big slapping against my seat just under his chin. His ministrations were ravenous, working me as deep as he could, taking me to the root and _further, _jaw coming up along my groin, tongue lashing at the root of my cock and slipping into my sheath to stimulate nerves I didn't even know I had!

People weren't being subtle about watching me now, clearly encouraged by the primal spectacle of my endless virility. And I had thoroughly ceased to care, there was no room for anything in my brain but rut, fuck, cum, chanted over and over again by the primal, howling chorus of my instincts. I got many approving looks and horny huffs, several cheers, I even got a "woo!" from an otter— I barely registered that he was a normal sized gray otter, instead of this half-size gremlin was who was milking me for all I was worth and _then _some.

A few of the onlookers even stayed, seemingly mesmerized by the ritual taking place in front of them, stroking their sympathetic erections through their pants or even just fully jamming a paw down in to jack it better.

He kept me rooted there for I didn't even know how long. I had lost track of time by the sixth explosion, my vision had narrowed by the ninth flood, darkened by the twelfth cataclysm, I saw people come and go as they were attracted by me or some other hornier sight nearby, and yet still I came.

At some point my brain simply lost context. I was hardly even having sex, I was a vessel for some creature to dig its teeth into— metaphorically of course, since the otter never even once let me feel his fangs, unless he wanted me to. The god of sucking dick fed on my soul, and impossibly I provided more than any mortal should have been able to.

Eventually, finally, the tide ebbed, the Sisyphean cycle faded. I hit yet another climax and throbbed, shot twice, four times, and that was it. Only a few throbs remained until my erection eased itself back into my sheath, dextrous paws coaxing it the whole way.

I felt him shuffle up from under the table to sit next to me again, but I didn't see him or anything at all. Instead I was flopped on the table raggedly and shamelessly panting, exhausted, extinguished, insensate to the world.

The otter pulled me up, cradling my head so it didn't flop around. The next thing I felt was his muzzle on mine. He was kissing me. Our muzzles meshed, automatically my tongue responded to his, somehow I felt like I was being pulled back up from the depths. One paw stroked up and down under my shirt, along the fluff on my chest and belly, while the other held me into the kiss.

I blinked a few times as my vision started to clear. My shaky paws came up to hold onto his shoulders, his neck, I returned the affection with a little more intention slowly bleeding into me. As I slowly came alive again he held us together for a while, then finally pulled away looking triumphant. A string of saliva joined my still-open maw to his extended tongue as he savored that last contact. What an odd color for a tongue to be: dark as night, slick and gleaming iridescent in the club's lights. That tongue had been been working me for hours, I realized, and the thought echoed in the hollowed-out space of my skull.

I finally could see that he was standing next to me with his face absolutely streaked with cum. Some of it was fresh, and some had worked itself quite well into his fur. He looked like he'd just had an unfortunate accident with an entire glue bottle, though it seemed like none of it had gotten into the flames of his mohawk.

"Fffffff... fffuuuuuuck," I groaned, trying to calibrate my brain to make speaky words again, "Hhhow many...?"

"Seventeen. You were brilliant," he chirped, emerald eyes sparkling.

"Guh, fuuuuck," I pawed at him, unsure what I wanted. More touch? More tongue? More cock attention, cum? To push the fiend away? All of the above?

He chuckled, seeming impossibly invigorated after— my brain stuttered backwards like a linty DVD player as I tried to reassemble a timeline— something like two hours _of dedicated dicksucking._

"I'll go get you some water. Then maybe we can swap contacts, do this again sometime." That ruddertail swayed in excitement.

Again? Fuck. The prospect, even if it was probably weeks off, somehow sent a pulse through my tired sheath and hollow balls.

I flopped back into my seat and felt my knee bump against something heavy under the table. Something warm, something that I was beginning to suspect was the culprit of so many meaty thumps during my interminable trial-by-otter-muzzle. I looked down and blinked in astonishment, having only a moment to process before he turned, sauntering away with the mother of all obscenities bobbing openly between his legs. Holy hell, was that his cock?

I was used to getting plenty of looks. Even at the grocery store there's always someone ogling my seven-foot stature, stealing little glances at my bulge like "is it true what they say about horses...?"

Yep, it was true. I didn't wear it with such swagger as some of my peers, but I was pretty proud of my package anyway. Enough that when coming to a club like this, I was relieved to just let it all hang out. Guaranteed I'd pick up some twink who couldn't really handle it, but I knew how to suss out the braggarts from the real enthusiasts.

So imagine my amusement when the shortest otter I'd ever seen started flirting with me. I go with it, of course. Quite the attitude for such a little guy, and he made for a fun back-and-forth.

And then he dropped the bombshell: "Yeah I could take it. Wanna go for it?" He grinned like what he said isn't the most ridiculous thing I've heard, and I resisted the urge to laugh.

"Uh huh. I don't think so, you're like what, four foot tall?"

"Four foot seven, and this is, what," he slid a paw around my sheath and I grunted, trying not to drop just yet, "twenty two inches?"

I raised an eyebrow. It didn't matter how much this guy had toyed himself, I'd be coming up his throat. But he was treating it like it was no big deal, like it wasn't the largest cock anyone would see without an elephant in the room. I had probably the bare-minimum pride around being a horse, and yet it felt a little bruised somehow.

"Twenty three," I snorted.

He smirked at me, "You don't believe me, huh?"

"Nope. Not that I'm fully turning you down, little dude, I'm sure you can do plenty with those paws."

"If you're so sure, then I'll bet you for it. If I take you head to root, you have to suck me off out here."

Oh shit, he was _that _kind of freak. I hadn't really planned on playing out in the open, but... Why not, right? Not like I wasn't constantly getting eye-fucked anyway. Just a small step from letting everyone appreciate my balls anyway, and this little guy's paws would show off my size well.

"... Yeah. Alright. If I win—" I tried to think of something that wasn't too harsh, since I was certain this bragging and bartering was just his kind of foreplay. Setting himself up to lose, kind of thing. "—you have to wear my cum for the rest of the night." Fucker was probably planning on doing that anyway.

"Deal," he declared, and held out his webbed paw. I always did think the webs were cute. I shook it, then he tightened his grip to hoist himself up onto the bench next to me.

My eyes flicked down, and then widened. _Fuck _did this puny guy have the _biggest _set on him. He was just wearing glasses and some fishnet on his upper half, but nothing down there held back his surprisingly pendulously swaying bits.

"How—..." I was speechless. When it came to height-to-cock ratio, horses (and zebras of course) probably had it best. Elephants were even taller but about the same cock size as me, rats were huge but short. There was a whole lineup I'd curated over a lifetime of being a cock-haver. _This _guy though... Fuck if he didn't break my whole system.

He gave me space to get myself under control, a coolly superior look on his little mischievous face. Then after a good few seconds of my sputtering, he stepped over my lap to straddle and grind on me.

Fuck I could feel his balls and sheath up against my stomach, warm and soft. He was working his package up and down along my stomach, my cock; I'd already dropped and could feel myself swelling eagerly.

"Hey now," he playfully chided, lifting my muzzle. I'd been staring down at his imposingly thick sheath. Something about that form factor really made his size stand out, compared to my kind of sheath.

"Muh?" I looked at him stupidly.

"Think about that later. Don't forget though: you're gonna have to get your throat around it once I've taken you." He grinned, working his hips back and forth against my stiffening rod, thick tail curling to give it a bit more sensation.

... Right. This was fine. Didn't matter what kind of monster this guy was packing, there was no way I was going to have to deal with it. Though that size did make me reconsider his swagger... Maybe he was into the power dynamic getting flipped? I couldn't imagine what he'd gone through in life with a bulge like that... No stop. Stop thinking about this guy's cock! Think about my cock, and how good it's going to feel to blow all over this little guy's face.

I throbbed, pillar of horsemeat raising up. Fuck he knew just how to work it too, a paw reaching back — behind his own weighty balls — to knead and tease at my medial ring. Fuck did that make me swell, practically flaring already.

We were getting a lot of looks now. The horsecock always did. Some hyena a couple spaces to my right was staring openly, paw stuffed into his pants.

Whatever was in the air tonight, the club felt rowdier than usual. It wasn't even midnight yet but guys were getting sucked off, jacking off, far more cocks than usual were meeting the open air and open stares.

"Nnngrhh," I groaned, the ache of a fully needy erection building at my base. "Fuck little guy, you're really good at that."

"Don't thank me just yet," he chirped, touching his nose to mine.

Before I knew it he lifted his rear, rudder fully lifted on display, legs locked to reach my tip. He wrangled my shaft towards his tailhole... But despite the impending sex, I couldn't help but stare down at his thickening sheath. His tip was emerging, deep-purple or maybe even black flesh threatening to grow, already drooling with clear slickness.

"Hrrk, nhh." My sensitive cockhead touched his hole, and my hands went to his hips automatically. Damn, otters were nice and thick back there.

He felt so slick and hot, of course this little slut would be lubed up already. I had to keep myself from just smashing my hands down and hips up to rail the little guy. I didn't want to kill him after all, just let him struggle for a bit. Let him show off his ass and my cock to the club. Then we could get to the real stuff.

The otter pushed, and I huffed as my head popped into him, hazing my brain over with pleasure. Fuck he had to have trained for this. He didn't feel like he was struggling at all around my thickness.

Slowly, he eased himself downwards, muzzle open and tongue out in increasingly satisfied bliss as more and more of my length pressed into him. I felt a little bit of resistance, probably some intestinal bend, but he worked his hips to get past it with practiced ease.

Fuck I had to be something like twelve inches into him. It was true what they said about otter holes. But about now he was going to bottom out, right?

... Right? His tail kept slowly sinking, persisting in jamming more and more of me into him. I shuddered and moaned aloud and gripped at his hips as he worked deeper, deeper, fucking deeper! Clenching around my shaft, working it so smoothly, fuck how was it still going in?! The intensity of being so deep, pressing deeper, god I wanted to just fucking thrust but if I did I would hurt him right?!

"Nnngrrehhh," the otter growl-moaned, shuddering as another couple inches pressed into him. It wasn't the struggling, pained growl that I expected; he didn't look like he was in pain at all, pressing onto my shaft with abandon and savoring every moment of it.

"And... That's... It!" he barked in triumph. Before I knew it I felt his ass press against my thighs, rudder curled around to tease at my balls.

Shocked and overwhelmed, I could only sit there and pant, cock viciously throbbing in the heated, tight, oh-so-pleasurably squeezing confines of this bizarre otter's ass.

The yeen to my right fully had his cock out now, tongue-out jacking off to this impossible feat.

"F-... Fuck," was all I could say.

"You lose, big guy. Though I'd say it's a win-win." He grinned, hardly even bothered about the two feet of horsecock in his guts. If anything he looked even more _excited. Literally where was it all even _going?

And now that he was finally planted in my lap, something else made itself known between us. Something hot and wet and frighteningly enormous, pressed between our chests. Dread swelled in my chest as it dawned on me.

"You know what that means~" he purred with delight, luxuriously leaning back in my lap and showing off everything.

I could hardly process what I was seeing. A black fucking monolith was jutting up from this little guy's lap, way bigger than it had any right to be even considering his ridiculously oversized sheath. It reached up past his damned collarbone, fuck he could — I worked my tongue in my muzzle as I thought about it — he barely even had to look down to suck himself. Even I had to give a bit of effort for it, tall and long-muzzled as I was.

And fuck was it thick, like easily half as thick as his tubey otter torso. I didn't even know if I could get my muzzle around it... To say nothing of the _enormous _knot at the base, threateningly large and pulsing steadily as that spire drooled heated precum down along itself.

Even his balls even looked bigger than mine. Fuck... They took up so much space between us. They probably _were _bigger.

... Wait did otters usually have knots? I realized I didn't even know for sure. They weren't canids... Right? Did other families have knots too?

Whatever, what I _did _know was that I _really _wanted to suck his cock. I wasn't even usually that kind of guy... But the sensation of getting my whole muzzle filled out was a rare pleasure that only a few others had managed.

He gave me a nice long moment to stare while he gave our hyena voyeur a lustful grin. I glanced, seeing that the guy was even more stunned by the otter's pillar of virility than I was. Frozen and gaping, neglected cock throbbing and spitting little arcs of precum all over his paw.

Then the otter leaned down to me and murmured, "Pay up, pony." As if spurred to action I broke out of my trance and lowered my muzzle, opening, working my thick tongue and lips around that pointed head and starting to slide him in. His musk was heady and strong but pleasant, his taste was virile and electric, the whole of my muzzle and tongue tingled as I welcomed him into me. I felt my shaft flare inside him and I groaned, somehow pleasured from both ends like sucking him was sucking myself.

Fuck but he was thick. I tried to shield my teeth with my lips, but it didn't really work. There just wasn't room in my maw for anything more than his overwhelming cock and my curling, seeking tongue. Pulses of pleasure told me that he enjoyed the lip action anyway though, so I kept doing it. I could feel his building need in the twitches of his hips, his sighs and moans and chirps, the way his huge balls tensed up against my stomach.

Eventually I had to slide my butt forward to get more of him into me, curling into a tighter spiral. It felt fucking good, satisfying some kind of deep oral fixation, filling my maw so completely and letting me drink down some of the copious precum he was starting to fill my maw with. It was _way _more than I expected, plenty of it leaking out along the sides.

"Theeere you go," he told me, almost soothingly like he was helping me work out a knot in a muscle, "Let me lead here."

He planted a paw on my head and pushed down. At first I resisted, but I saw that he wasn't trying to force me deeper: he was lifting himself up, sliding along my cock. Held down, I could only shudder and grip at his hips again.

"Ohhhh yess... There we go... Fuck, yes," he moaned, and then he started to work up a rhythm. With every rise on my cock he pressed his own shaft deeper into my maw, and then he would plunge back down to force every bit of me back into him, then back up and down, up and down, the otter was riding me from both ends and all I could do was try to match his thrusts.

Fuck I'd never had anything like this. I'd never even sucked and fucked at the same time before, and this one-man band was playing me from both sides, saturating every wrinkle in my brain with lust and need and bliss.

Sheer instinct drove me, bucking every time he fell onto my cock, and pushing my muzzle every time he rose to thrust forward. Every cycle was a new spike of pleasure, a new reward training my brain to fuck, suck, repeat.

At some point, he patted my head and I looked up at him, eyes blurry with lust and the effort of stretching my jaw around him.

"Mind if he gets a tongue in on it? He's pretty thirsty over there," the otter hiked a thumb at the hyena. He was leaning towards us, all but openly begging, his cock ragingly hard in his paw and his tail thrashing in anticipation.

I nodded automatically, rattling the huge ottcock in my maw. It wasn't like I was getting that knot in, and who better to take care of a knot than a canid?

... Wait, hyenas weren't canids. Did they even have knots? Fuck it, who cares.

Blissfully, the cycle resumed and the yeen's muzzle appeared near mine. Sprawled on the bench, he followed the otter's motions with his tongue and nose, working in along the massive globes of his knot, lavishing the inches I wasn't reaching above and worshiping the inches below, furiously jacking off and probably splattering my hooves with his seed. I couldn't care.

I felt the otter's thrusts grow faster, a little more erratic. He gripped at my long muzzle and I supported him, preparing my throat for the bounty I needed.

A dissonantly cute "yerf!" was my only warning before I was absolutely flooded with thick otter cum. I couldn't even gulp more than a cup before it burst out around every seam, forcing more into my throat and belly and splattering the yeen, backsplashing onto the otter, as shot after voluminous shot burst into me.

I expected to reel back and hack my lungs out, but... Somehow I was perfectly fine. I guessed I had prepared well and now I could just stay there, content on his shaft, licking and gulping the remainder down, nursing the steady flow of the remnants of his orgasm.

In fact, what I really wanted was more. He knew it too, and after only a moment's rest he ground the machine to life again, working his hips and tail in a new, rapidly growing melody between us.

Filled with heated cum now, the haze grew and I gladly sunk into it. Lust burned in my belly and balls, my cock pulsed, I was pretty sure I came but I didn't stop. I didn't need to. I couldn't even tell when I was cumming for how _molten _my shaft felt, surrounded by wet and heat and burning with need. How often I was clenching, throbbing, flaring up in those perfectly form-fitting, squeezing, milking otter-guts.

Something else was asked, and a nod was returned. Another muzzle appeared to my left... Deer I think. His rack wasn't in full season, so he had a decent amount of room to maneuver, tilt and lick and lavish the other side of that glorious knot. I think his paws were kneading at the otter's balls too.

For the yeen's part, he seemed just about as lost as I was. I wasn't sure if he even knew there was someone on the other side, his entire field of vision was just that delicious, musky, world-obstructing knot. It was my whole field of vision too, my whole head filled up with massive otter shaft, my shaft surrounded by otter. How was he so small, but there was so much of him?

The four of us continued like that for... I didn't even know. It may as well have been forever, my internal pendulum only swinging on every thrust forward, every press backward, faintly aware of the otter's harem growing while he rode me and milked me endlessly.

He fucked, I sucked, I came, he flooded, he thrust forward and back, he tongue-wrestled with someone nearby. I felt paws stroking across me, teasing at my nipples, a maw working my balls. Three tongues (or sometimes more?) slurped and begged for a droplet of the experience, seed to slake their thirst, all of us connected at the altar of ottercock.

To say it was a divine experience was an understatement. I wasn't even the religious type but had I been conscious enough I would have converted on the spot; I was connected to him, connected to everyone around me, our lusts pooling to reverberate together, our parts all inserted into each other to become more than their sum.

My throat filled with flowing cum, my cum flowed and filled the otter. He shot, I shot, the feedback loop continued. The cycle bounced back and forth and I just didn't stop, I didn't _need _to, I _never _wanted to stop cumming ever again.

The last thing that managed to imprint itself on my memory of that night was his paws gripping my ears, his ass vice-gripping my cock and one more earth-shattering, throat-filling burst of cum. After that, nothing until—

"Nnghkrk—" I snorted and choked as I came to, spitting up a thick wad of cum to join the rest of the layers coating my muzzle.

"Fuck, ugghh," I groaned as I sat up. I felt like... Well not quite like a hangover, but like there was a hole somewhere deep in my head, leaking half-formed strands of thought. I blinked and sat up, squeezing my eyes to try to clear the blur from them.

I had been slumped back in the same spot for... How long? My throat was thoroughly gunked through with otter cum, but all told... I didn't really feel that bad. My head hurt and my neck was a little stiff, but not like... face-fucked-for-hours stiff. Hell my cock should have been aching too, but it seemed perfectly happy to still be throbbing away, perplexingly drooling a constant stream of leftover cum, but I could not give a single fuck about the mess I was making. The place was probably already wrecked anyway.

I realized I was standing fully nude and obnoxiously hard near the dance floor, but no music was playing. Some animals were walking around cleaning up discarded glasses and cans, and quite a few animals with mops were around. They must be closing up.

Where the fuck was my phone? I tracked down my pants some ten feet away, coated in seed.

"It's fucking three in the morning?!" I rasped. It had been a hell of a long time since I'd been out this long... And even longer since I'd not been able to remember most of it.

"Meh. Where the fuck is he..." I said aloud, looking around. Some wisps of delirious radiance still lingered in my mind, though I couldn't directly see them; all I knew was that I wanted to find him.

But, there was no short-hung otter around that I could see. There were quite a lot of passed-out partyers around though... More than usual. Even more than just the blast zone that was the... Orgy I'd been part of. I guessed I'd finally been to an orgy.

"How the fuck did my shirt get over here..." I mumbled as I snatched it off a goat snoozing on the floor a few paces away. He looked like he'd gotten a few otter shots to the face, as coated in spunk as he was.

Fuck, the whole club was coated, now that I looked. Huge splatters under tables, up against walls, covering seats at the bar. I'd been at the epicenter of one such explosion, which looked to be the worst around. Surely the otter wasn't responsible for all _of this mess, even as relentlessly horny as he was... But who else could cum like that much of a firehose? ...Fucking _rowdy night.

I considered my shirt, and then looked down. Yeah, no... My belly was full. Not surprising considering what I'd been through... But I'd never seen it looking like that, and there was no fucking way I was getting my shirt on over it. Practically looked like I was pregnant.

Returning to the altar-- er, to where I'd woken up, I collected the rest of my things and nudged the hyena. He was the only one other than the otter that I seemed to recall, so I felt a little bit of obligation towards him. He looked satisfied in his snoozing at least, flopped sideways on the bench with a paw still loosely around his steadily oozing erection, tongue hanging out in a drooling, blissful dream. I pushed at him again, and he didn't respond. Well that was the end of my responsibility budget, he was breathing and that was all I cared about.

My phone buzzed with a new message. The otter had entered himself as a contact. How the fuck did he unlock it.

"Had a great time! Maybe meet up again?"

My cock twitched insistently at the thought, splurted up an extra gout of cum and I frowned. Sure my cock wanted him, but it wasn't very selective.

Did I really want to see that guy again? Smarmy little mustelid with eyes bigger than his... Well... Twitch.

Fuck did he ever take me. Like it was nothing, too. Throb.

Half my size, but he showed me up. Somehow, inexplicably, even more _hung than an actual horse. _Twitch throb flare, hrrrh.

I glared at the fresh splattershot I'd made on the floor, slowly oozing to join the rest of the cum pooled around my hooves, just from thinking about the devil-otter and his stupid cannon. Was this how everyone else felt when they thought about horsecock? Fucking hell.

Who could I even talk to about this? I _needed _to talk, but... I didn't want other animals to know yet. Maybe once I figured out whatever I felt about it a little more? I wasn't used to being shy, but I guessed getting shown up in the "biggest" department would do that to you.

Well... I did know someone, didn't I? Someone that sure liked to talk. Didn't know how much of a _listener _he was, but it was worth a shot...

"Sure, lunch maybe?" Send.

It had been so, so long since I'd gotten to hang out with my brother again. Midterms were over finally, Zeke was in town, and I wanted nothing more than to hang out with him again. I didn't even care that we were going to stay out late. Or at least that was Zeke's plan, and I hoped I wouldn't have to peel him off the pavement at two in the morning.

He'd apparently seen some online ads for a nightclub near my campus and thought it would be a great idea to go together. Gods how my heart had skipped when we got out front, and I realized he'd brought me to Elysium; this _was the place that everyone I knew had been whispering about. All the rumors said if you were a gay dude, this was _the place to be. I thought, "there's no way he brought me to the horniest nightclub in the city on purpose, right?"

Turns out, no. He didn't know a thing about it. And when we got inside... He ditched me to go 'scout out some tail'. What an absolute dork. He prided himself on being the wiser older brother but sometimes he was such a pain in the tail. He was lucky he was so good-looking.

Ugh, no. Not like... Like yeah he was objectively handsome, but...

Fuck, this kind of thing had been happening a lot lately. I didn't like how I'd been thinking about him. Yeah okay, he was a big kangaroo; so was I. So what if he'd been working out a bunch since he graduated... So what if he was gay too. There was no way I was actually into my brother. That just didn't happen in civilized places, I was just blue-balled and desperate for some interanimal connection.

And that was understandable! College had been running me ragged, so I hadn't had time to do all the things I wanted to. Like, get some action... Ever. So I was just cooped up and blue-balled to hell and he was an admittedly attractive roo. It totally made sense that I'd have those feelings for a little bit... He'd always been there for me when it really mattered, so as much as I wanted to smack him sometimes, he was also... Maybe the most important animal in my life.

... Not like that though. This was just temporary. Someday I'd find a sexy, charming guy to raise a family with, and then these feelings wouldn't be a problem anymore.

So... Yeah. I had to clear my head. 'Scope out some tail', as a certain dork would say. It really was a mystery how he could be so incredibly gay and still sound like a misogynist jock. I should probably talk to him about that sometime.

But anyway he brought me here. Even if he didn't know this was the horniest club around, this was the kind of thing you did at a club. So while he was sniping ass or whatever, I was going to... Find someone and... What did you even _do _to get laid? Annoyingly, I wished I could find Zeke to get some pointers.

I looked around, tall ears tilting. Being a head above most of the crowd was occasionally useful, and thankfully the venue was spacious enough that I didn't feel cramped. Lights flashed around the stage, a fanned-out set of golden-yellow spots pulsing in time with the bitcrushed bass while lasers danced along the ceiling and walls, greens and reds clashing across the crowd each time the song changed key. It was a more coordinated lightshow than I expected, considering some of the cheapo presets I'd seen before.

I took a deep breath. Alright that was enough standing around stalling. It was a little later in the night than I'd usually "go out", but the upside was that the place was already plenty full of animals. So I just had to find someone hot, right. What did I find hot other than kangaroos. I scrolled mentally back through my most recent internet searches. Well, 'public' was ticked off already just from being here— I saw a bunch of shameless animals grinding it up already.

Unbidden, thoughts about dancing with Zeke came to me. He was such a shameless animal himself, he didn't care that he sucked at dancing, he just had fun throwing his paws and tail around. One time he'd gotten lewd with it at me, lifting his tail and shaking his whole rump at me, slowly backing into me "as a joke"... I couldn't help imagining the two of us instead of that lemur and stag practically fucking each other on the floor.

Fuck I really needed to stop thinking and get laid. It was tempting to just get drunk, though a loss of inhibition was not what I needed right now. I tore my eyes away and periscoped around some more, trying to find someone that wasn't already dancing or having sex somehow. There: a cheetah leaning against a wall nearby. Something about their naturally lanky runners' build, those adorable spots and big eyes, they got me going. He had some glow-bracelets and stuff on so he looked experienced with the scene, and he wasn't occupied. Perfect.

Being big didn't make it easy to approach anyone subtly though. Not just from being tall, but from having big clompy hopping-paws. He saw me coming and gave me a friendly smile, "Hey."

"Hey. Uh, nice night."

"Sure is." He took a sip idly.

Not the kind of momentum I'd hoped for, but I kept trying, "Going well for you?"

"Yeah! Really enjoying the tunes."

Oh come on dude. Throw me a bone. Fuck, what now.

"Uh, really wasn't expecting the place to be so... Like, open. Wild, right?"

"Ha, yeah! That's why I love it here. It's kind of an—" he looked dramatically left and right, cupping his paw near his muzzle, "—Unspoken rule that the management lets you wear whatever you want as long as you behave."

More than two sentences, that was progress. "Damn, really? They just let that happen? I guess that explains the guys over there..." I tipped my muzzle at a ferret nearby, getting real cozy with an otter. The two mustelids looked like they were about to jump each other at any moment.

Oh fuck, the otter just went under the table. I could see his tail sweeping back and forth as the action started. My paw went to my very eager bulge, unsure whether it wanted to conceal a tent or rub at it.

The cheetah gave me a jittery grin, his eyes wide as he danced from paw to paw, "Oh. Uh. I don't think you're really supposed to do that... Uh, oh boy." Wait, was he literally about to bolt? "I gotta get going— um, see you later cutie!"

That's when I found out that cheetah speed was real. At least he'd called me cute before he left me in the ditch.

I stared at the display of semi-concealed cocksucking for a little longer, before I decided that tenting my pants too much might be offputting to a potential partner.

Though with how my luck was, maybe I should have just stripped and approached cock-first. A caracal said he wasn't here for that kind of thing. A silver fox chuckled before he said he was 'straight, honey', with a misleading lisp and confusing choice of venue. In desperation I sought out a ferret as if trying to recreate the horny I'd seen earlier, but we just didn't click.

Ears crumpled and grumbles building in my throat, I retreated to the bar. The suited-up lynx was helpful with a suggestion on a drink to take my mind off my failure; not that I asked for that, but I'm sure he could tell.

I sat for a few minutes, taking in the ambiance and contemplating my next approach. Hadn't seen Zeke this whole time, somehow. It was usually hard not to see him in a crowd, but I supposed he'd pranced off to the back rooms with someone on the first try. I wasn't going to just have to awkwardly hang around until he was done, was I?

The seat to my right clattered as someone clambered up onto it: an otter, shorter than I would have expected for his species. He looked a little familiar somehow... But the memory didn't click, so I supposed it was just my imagination. He pretty much came up to my shoulders while we were sitting, I could easily look down at his red-mohawked head. The size difference was pretty hot, if I was honest... Maybe I had one more try left in me?

"Hey," I offered.

He looked up at me, "Hey. Going well?"

"Could be a little better. Haven't found many people interested in talking much," I said, and then reconsidered. Maybe that wouldn't hint at my ulterior motive enough, I'd let my bitterness speak through me a little more than I should.

"Heh, most people here prefer to talk some other way," he gave me a one-sided grin. At least he was some kind of a conversationalist.

"Yeah, first time I've seen this kind of thing. Did you see that horse in the back, he practically had an orgy going on."

The otter tipped his head back. "He does, now."

I planted my tail to turn myself and saw that he was right: the crowd had grown, so many people all thrusting against one another in various ways. Some hyena was straight up jacking off near the pile, in open view. I grunted as my cock pressed against my pants uncomfortably, tempted just to throw myself into that somehow.

Was all that legal? Maybe for adult clubs decency laws didn't apply or something? I felt my tail tapping the ground; searching up the 'exhibitionism' tag versus actually _being _near it was... A very different beast. I wasn't quite sure how to act, but nobody was giving any of them a nasty look or anything. Everyone seemed pretty casual, even positive about it. I guess if you went here a lot, you just got used to it?

"How do you even get that kind of thing to happen," I murmured in awe.

When I'd spun back around, the otter was staring at a fennec a few spaces down the bar who was talking with someone I couldn't see. He didn't say anything, just hopped down with his drink, then stepped over my tail to hop up on my other side.

Before I could ask what that was about, he was probing me with a sultry grin: "Liked what you saw back there?"

"Uh... Yeah. I mean, I don't think I'm _that _kind of animal really. It's hot, but... Not for me probably. I'm more of a one-on-one." My tailtip flicked back and forth a bit, and I worked my big middle-toeclaws on the footrest nervously.

"Same," he said simply, taking a sip. He was letting me take the lead, watching me.

I looked down at him, taking him in a bit more. The mohawk was obviously the most eye-catching bit, not as shockingly long as I saw some animals style it, but a nicely casual swooped-back ruff of fiery hair that trailed a fair distance down his neck. Now that I was looking, I noticed that his chin had a matching tuft as well. I couldn't tell if he'd done something to it to get it so vividly hued, there wasn't a harsh dye border or anything like that. Maybe I'd have to get a referral to his stylist.

He wore a thick black leather collar with heavy silver rings, layered under a green tartan fabric encircling it. It went with his leather vest quite well, a deep-green that contrasted with his fur and hair. Below that was — I gulped — a very overstuffed looking red speedo. He was here for action clearly, and he'd seen where my wandering eyes had found home.

"... You look like you're ready for anything," I said, putting in a bit of the sexy suggestiveness I'd heard him use.

His reply was slow, languidly enjoying my approach, "Oh, it sounds like you have something in mind?"

I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice, though I couldn't keep my ears from going pink, "Yeah. I heard that... This place has some pretty good beds, we could test them out?" I immediately cringed at myself, fuck that was cheesy. Straight up garbage dialogue I'd heard in some terrible video I'd downloaded.

"Oof. Needs work," he said, chuckling. I thought I'd blown it for a moment, but his laughter wasn't too pointed. "You know what, I have a soft spot for roos. And look at us, one big, one small, we can really give those beds a thorough review."

He offered a paw to me and I took it, following him off into the shadowy corridors. Oh fuck, this was happening. A stranger was leading me to a bedroom. Fuck fuck fuck. I had no guarantees of anything from this point... I was going to be alone in a lockable room. He could turn out to be a weirdo. He could even hurt me maybe.

Well... okay that one was pretty farfetched. Unless this guy half my size was really good at hiding knives, he wasn't going to overpower me. So I was pretty safe there.

Why was I so afraid? The tension had eased a bit from my shoulders once I'd actually considered the situation like that, but it was weird how freaked out I was getting. Although, I realized... When it had come to a lot of my life-changing moments like this... Usually Zeke was here to help me. Even just to be there, to know everything would be okay.

"Hey. You doing alright?" the otter asked. We were in a bedroom already, and I hadn't even noticed. The festivities faded away nearly to nothing as the otter shut the door, and I spared a thought for how good the soundproofing must be.

"... Yeah. Um. Sorry. This is uh..."

"It's alright if you're nervous. You just look like... A little _more _than that. If you're not up to it that's okay, no pressure." He held up his paws placatingly.

I looked around the room to further satisfy my fight-or-flight. There were no instruments of torture in here. Not even the ones I might have expected to see in a kink bar's backroom. It was just a very dim, very normal bedroom with a black-sheeted king-sized bed. "I think I'll be fine. Maybe we just uh, start slow?"

The otter nodded and hopped up on the bed, patting the space next to him. He actually had to kind of clamber up, and the cuteness put me a little more at ease.

Seeing him like that made me realize I was overdressed. I threw off my tasteful button-up and slacks, far more modest than a place like this deserved. Easing myself down so I didn't launch him into the ceiling — nevermind the bed was memory foam, surprisingly fancy for a sex bed — I scooted myself up towards the headboard. The tips of my paws and a good bit of my tail hung off, but that was far from unexpected. Big boomers broke beds, as they said, though I was realizing the phrase I'd heard in my childhood probably had some lewder connotations than I knew.

The otter rolled towards me, one paw starting to knead at the base of my ear and the other stroking down my shoulder and arm. His tail laid over my hips comfortingly. "What's your name? If you want to say."

I laid my head down on the pillow. "Hunter. What about you?" I returned his affection, stroking down his back and enjoying how much real estate my paw took up on his body.

"Asrael," he said.

"Really?" Erk. That slipped out on reflex and might not have been a good thing to ask. But he just smirked and nodded.

"Yep. I get that a lot." The paw at my arm slid up and closer, digging claws into my coarse grey fur and starting to scritch along my chest and neck, up along my muzzle. Woof, these were the good scritches. I couldn't help my footpaws twitching.

"This um..." I better get this over with. "This is my first time," I said with that special tone of implying just what kind of first it was.

His eyes widened, deep-green behind his tinted glasses. "Ever?"

I nodded.

"Well damn. Explains your jitters. You sure you want your first to be with someone you don't even know? Not that I wouldn't be willing, I'm honored even."

My brain was very sure it knew who I really wanted it to be with, but he wasn't an option. I didn't want to look pathetic by just saying 'yes' though, even if I was a virgin.

I tried to turn it into a bit of a flirt, "Well, you're really hot. And clearly very confident. I kinda love the height difference we've got going on, and um," my eyes flicked downwards, "I'm very curious..."

None of that was a lie at all, even if I did feel more than a little out of place.

Asrael grinned, "I get that a lot too. But rather than just whip it out... How about I let you explore at your own pace?"

He scooted closer to the middle of the bed, pressing his warm, scarlet-clad bulge against me as a tease, then rolled onto his back and squished his pillow until it helped prop him up. I loomed above him as I sat up to watch, and his speedo distended with a powerful throb.

"Mmmfh, like I said. Soft spot for big roos like you, and you're a very handsome specimen." The otter folded his arms behind his head, spread his legs, and opened his maw in a lustfully enticing tongue-out pant. Surely he had to be a porn model or something with these kinds of poses.

He looked so small below me, so manipulable. Like I could just grab his collar and... And something. Some instincts I'd never known were stirring, my balls felt ready, my shaft was already starting to tent at my boxers.

I slid closer and yerped as I felt his tail press gently up under my balls and taint, grinding along that sensitive space all the way to my tail. Vividly, I imagined a much larger tail entwining with mine.

My paws reached for his sides, his belly, sliding across the dense, smooth fur. It was a bit of a foreign feeling to me, and fascinating. I worked my claws through the deeper chestnuts of his coat, up to the lighter undercoat, and his squeaks and squirms drove me further. I couldn't help but imagine dusty grey fur in his place, kneading along a much larger body... But having him under me like this was helping, somehow. The more I looked, the more I could focus my lust on him, and not... Anybody else. I squared up my haunches, straddling wider than the width of his whole body with ease. His skillfully-posed form begged for appreciative paws and maws, and I wanted more.

I leaned in closer, approaching the gift-wrapped prize between his legs. It really was enormous... And only growing larger steadily, the round top of his sheath broken by a point rising steadily further, harder, starting to show off its darkness through eagerly dampening fabric. The scent was intense and spicy; my mind immediately compared his musk to the times I'd walked in on my brother— ugh, not now!

I grunted in frustration and saw him react, though I tried to play it off. I really was achingly horny, I needed this so bad. My own sixteen tapered inches pressed out hard enough to reveal a couple inches of pink at my base, balls roiling beneath. I needed to see what this otter was hiding.

I worked my claws into the strained edges of his speedo and pulled a little too eagerly, catching the fabric on his enormously thick sheath. He groaned in strained pleasure as his tip pressed and bent against the fabric, making him huff and press out even further.

At this rate I was going to get him too hard to even get out of the damn thing. Though with this kind of size... Maybe he'd just tear it apart. That would be really fucking hot.

All at once I yanked the fabric up and over his tip. The spring-loaded pressure of his cock burst out and took over, smacking my paw down and releasing itself from its confines like a beast freed from a cage.

The otter's titanic member grew fast, so much faster than I'd expect, reaching towards the sky and sagging, bowing down towards its owner's muzzle under its own sheer weight. It was already drooling a thick line of precum, painting up along Asrael's chest as it grew further, further, every time I thought it would stop it just didn't, more inches of midnight cock poured from his sheath.

When at last it ground to a halt, a half-swollen knot disgorged from that deceptively spacious sheath, I was just in awe. He grinned and wiggled to make it wag back and forth, reveling in my stunned disbelief. I was so much bigger than him, and even on me this thing would have been beyond huge.

"Fffffuuu_uuuuu_ck dude," I finally breathed. My cock was aching in a not-so-pleasant way and I released it as well, clenching as I fired off a surprisingly strong shot of precum to splatter against the expanse of his shaft.

"Would it surprise you to hear that... I get that a lot?" He giggled at his own brick joke.

I blinked, and stared, unsure what to do now. The weight, the _dissonance _in my mind was just growing. Despite the addictive sizes and shapes and scents of this otter, all I could think was that I knew Zeke would be cumming himself over this, he'd love this, and I'd love him to be here with me, sharing this experience, bonding and... And maybe other things...

Asrael tilted his head at me. "Something wrong?"

"N-no... Uh..." He wasn't going to buy it. I wasn't even buying it, I could feel my voice cracking, the dam rattling from the strain of keeping all this back. "Yes. It's not you though, and... Fuck, I really want you, I don't want to mess this up..."

He frowned. I thought he was just going to pack up and find someone else to manhandle him. He sat up and put a paw on my chest, working his digits into my fur and sliding back and forth in a soothing way. As if he was directly massaging the pain, it eased a little bit. I felt tears prickle at the edges of my eyes and I groaned in frustration.

He leaned — gods, he had to lean around that huge fucking cock — and softly said, "I have a hunch this isn't about it being your first time."

I nodded, not able to make eye contact with him. What the fuck was I doing, he was the catch of a lifetime, checking so many kinky boxes for me like it was nothing, and I was tearing up in front of him while he was trying to have sex with me! He was probably some YiffHub celebrity and I was screwing this up.

Asrael read my feelings right off me, I wasn't very good at keeping them off my ears. "Don't worry about ruining the mood or whatever. Tell me what's wrong."

I sat back on my haunches again, taking a moment to try to compose myself and put together what actually was wrong with me. I pressed the balls of my paws against my eyes and sighed. No it was really obvious if I thought about it for even a moment, and stupid to pretend anymore.

"Alright so... I mean I don't want to like... Dump on you."

He shook his head. "Come on."

I sighed and reluctantly began, "I'm here with my brother. I dunno where he is, he seemed like he was going to try and... Get laid." And now that I was thinking about it more openly to myself, that was the part that really brought all this to a head, wasn't it. He was finding someone _else _to fuck him...

Asrael was patient as I wrestled with myself, "And... It's not like... This is weird, I don't know why but..."

He leaned onto his side, one paw casually working at the pointed tip of his canid cock and letting precum pool against his paws. "Trust me, you won't weird me out and I won't judge you. I've seen some things." The confusing mix of lust among the torrent of all my other feelings was making me feel weird, though I at least figured he wasn't bluffing. Everything about him was so far out of the norm. How was he even still so hard, despite the conversation?

Though somehow, it spurred me on a little. What could I say that was weirder than a small-built otter with a two foot cock?

"I think I'm in love with my brother!" I blurted, trying to get it out before I could react to stop myself.

His eyes widened for a moment, then his face settled into a clearly well-worn sassiness. "Ohhhhhhh," he sang, tone going up and down exaggeratedly.

I brought my paws in a little defensively. "Wh-what?"

"Really now. That's... I'm not gonna lie... Kinda hot, big guy." He reached out and tapped at my knee playfully.

I stammered, flustered and unable to get any words out. The relief that he didn't get angry was clashing with a very different kind of relief; the repressive valve was thrown open and now my long shaft was pulsing angrily and drooling again.

He brought his pre-soaked paw up to grip gently around my first few inches and even at that slight suggestion of a slick hole, my hips bucked firmly. "Considering the situation, are you sure you're in _love _with your brother, or do you just wanna fuck him? Because those are pretty different."

He just said it so casually, but how the hell was I supposed to know? My brain was still roiling, and his teasing wasn't helping. I felt a heat building somewhere in the back of my mind... I _needed _to fuck, and I knew I wanted more than anything else in the world to fuck Zeke.

"Well either way on my taboo scale that's small beans, though I'm not going to minimize how much it's clearly eating at you. So..."

He brought his clean paw to his chin, working at his goatee while the other paw returned to his own erection. "I have an idea to work out your kinks, help you figure yourself out, and still get us both some action. If you'd be up for it. You said you were a one-on-one kind of roo, but what do you think of two-on-two?"

Something was in the air tonight... Something odd.

On any other night I would have been pleased as punch. The air was crackling, the music was thumping, everyone was grinding it up on the dance floor and the drinks were popular. I had to remember to book this DJ again, he made good on his promise to keep the vibe strong.

But I could definitely smell that something was off. Not a literal smell of course since I'd seen more than my fair share of rutting animals, I managed a word-of-mouth-horny kind of nightclub after all. I couldn't quite put my claw on it...

I mingled through the crowd tonight and chatted a few animals up to get a feel of the room. I usually did this anyway, it was a good show for a manager to be present and involved. Not a lot of regulars were here, though a few familiar faces floated around.

A ferret who was usually with a few others. He was pretty cute and seemed a little lost without his posse, I might have to see if I could introduce him to someone.

A horse who frequented the back rooms. What horse didn't, though.

A gray otter who only ever seemed to hang out on the edges. He seemed content though, so to each their own.

All the while, I bobbed and weaved away from the rowdier parts of the crowd, as much as some part of me wanted to stay.

After seven years I had a well-honed instinct of how to keep just on the fringes of any explicit activity. It was a delicate balance to keep a place like this exactly as it was: I turned a blind eye and they kept it somewhat discreet. Anything to upset the natural order could wreck the whole thing, and if I had to cut it off... I'd have to cut off so much of what made this job my job. I'd be disappointing Chet as well.

He and I had gone to college together, and he knew I was... familiar with sex, you might say. I'd admit to really exploring myself during those years. Exploring a lot of other animals too. But then life got more serious, I didn't make the cut, and my folks put me on blast. Didn't matter that fucking around with guys wasn't the reason I'd left... They'd find any excuse to _make _it the reason.

So when Chet got the seed money to start up Elysium, a sex-positive MBA dropout was a perfect match for the broker between the sensible and the sensual. He knew I had the experience and the motivation to keep my restraint. Now I could provide that safe space for others to experiment, even if it did take a lot of willpower sometimes to keep from just... diving in.

I was talking to a glowstick-bedazzled husky when I spotted an otter in the corner of my eye. A very distinctive otter in a place he shouldn't be. Was he taking another break already?

"Sorry, I have to take care of something," I broke off from the husky suddenly. I usually was a bit better at masking my tension, but I wasn't paying this guy to turn on Spotify and mingle.

Luckily the DJ was even shorter than me, so I didn't have to put too much extra gusto into it. A fennec like me trying to intimidate some of the taller species was usually a bit of a mess unless I amped it up for them. I clapped a paw on his shoulder and pulled him around to— Oh fuck.

"_What _the... What's your problem??" this otter barked at me, fangs bared.

I stared for a moment, brows knitted and struggling to comprehend. Just like the DJ, this otter was shorter than me, and he even had the same orange-red chin-tuft, with some red hair trailing down the back of his neck. But this one was fully done up in leather, with one of those military-looking caps pulled down low to obscure his eyes, gloved paws, a harness under a light leather jacket, and... a very, very overstuffed looking jock.

I whipped around to squint at the stage, not caring in that moment how my huge ears flapped in a way that looked ridiculous.

We didn't have a full-on stage since we weren't that big, but we did have a raised section with a decently sized light and sound rack, and some good equipment to run it all. Behind the decks was exactly who I expected to see: short mohawk-otter with lit-up cyberpunk wraparounds, bouncing in time with the beat. I didn't have to see it behind the deck to know he was sporting far more equipment than anyone that size should, and I really didn't want to imagine right now how it was swaying around as he danced.

Did he have relatives in town or something? This couldn't be a coincidence, one didn't simply see this many mini-hyper-otters every day. Fuck I'd really stepped in it though. I turned back, paws lifted in surrender.

"So sorry, this was my mistake entirely. I thought you were the DJ! Crazy, right?"

He grinned, a little too readily and a little too deviously. Far be it from me to accuse a fellow "crafty" species of being nefarious, but it still gave me a bit of the willies.

"Ah no, I get it. Honest mistake. You did kinda fuck up my flow though." I glanced behind him at a bridled donkey who was absolutely failing to cover up his sizable erection. Both of them were fucking hot, though as always I had to put a lid on that before I started to show it. Wrap it up a little bit tighter, since it wasn't mine to have. Now it was time for some business schmoozing.

"Right... that's my bad. Tell you what, how about a drink on the house? For your friend too?"

The donkey shook his head, ears pink with embarrassment. Leather-otter looked at him and dropped his reins, "I'll ride you next time, livestock. Find someone who wants to play." My sheath bulged and I felt my breath quicken, but I kept myself in line.

"After you," he said, gesturing towards the bar.

I glanced back at the donkey as we left, but he'd already bolted. He'd apparently taken the otter's suggestion to heart, or just left out of shame. I'd have to ask about him once I was done.

Escorting him to the bar, I was happy that not a lot of animals were there at the moment. Just a kangaroo who looked a bit miserable, brooding at his drink a few spaces down. I made a mental note to check in on him later.

The otter turned out to be easygoing enough once I'd made up for my blunder with a drink. I told him my name was Cary, and his name was Asrael, supposedly. Probably his scene name, but I didn't push it. It was a suitably imposing name for a leather-dom anyway, and for now I enjoyed playing along with his mystique.

I hung out with him for a bit, despite wanting to get back to manager-biz, having something of an obligation to smooth over my faux pas and retain a clearly enthusiastic customer.

He was more than understanding of my mistake, even offering to buy me a drink for the courtesy. "Look at it this way, I bought a drink and _you _got yourself one to relax,"

Under his cap, I glimpsed the glimmering-green of his eyes. He was right, I didn't partake much. There was nothing wrong with taking the edge off as long as it didn't go any further than that. Maybe it would chill me out and keep me from sniffing around all paranoid about something being "wrong".

Once he'd gotten his whiskey-cola and I'd gotten my old-fashioned, he offered a toast: "To a night of letting it all hang out."

I chuckled and tapped my claw against my tumbler, "Like every night here."

His drink hovered in the air, one leather-gloved paw holding down the brim of his cap. I noticed the glove made room for his webs to arc between his digits, curves of dark flesh accenting the black leather. "Aw come on. You don't feel the buzz in the air? The electric release of the dance, the drinks, the sex?"

"Mmm..." My feelings on the matter were more complicated than I could easily explain. Something behind my heart ached and I sighed through my snout, attempting to construct an excuse at a comfortable distance from my own problems yet still in the shadow of the truth. "Maybe I did a long time ago. You get used to it, you know?"

"Skill issue," he scoffed.

I barked out a bit of a laugh, feeling a bit on the back paw, "Gonna tell me to 'git gud', huh?"

"Oh, spicy eh? Come on, are you gonna toast me or not?" Asrael waggled his glass up in front of his face with an invitingly toothy grin. The swirling stage lights caught on it as they swooped past, making the bubbles gleam.

The ache to join him grew, more viscerally present than I'd usually felt it. Maybe it was because I was fraternizing, trying to relax instead of doing my job. To soothe the beast I knew I had to give it a little bit of relief, to dip my toe into the otter's camaraderie. At least I could pretend I was in this space for the same reason as him for just a little bit, feed the beast a scrap to keep the cage from shattering entirely.

"Yeah alright. To a night of letting it all hang out." Clink.

I rattled a bit all over as the glass made contact, fangs clacking, fur on my shoulders standing up. I shifted around in my seat, tail flicking behind me and flexing my toes to work out the jitters. Was it cold in here?

After a sizeable gulp he declared, "Good." Another thrill made its way down my nerves. "So, a gamer?"

"Er— Huh?" I rubbed at my arms, trying to settle my tail and smooth my fur.

"Didn't expect you to get right back at me with the 'skill issue' thing."

"Oh... Oh yeah. Not much time for it these days, but... I keep up with current events at least," I shrugged and finally took my delayed toast-sip, turning into a little more of a proper gulp to somewhat match the otter's pace.

"Uh huh. You ought to get back into it." I glanced at him, caught the shape of his eyes from under his cap.

"Yeah, might do that once I get home," A few games floated out of my memories, ones I hadn't thought about in... Fuck, years? I'd probably have to start some of them over.

A gentle silence passed between us as I watched how the surface of my drink buzzed with the bass. I turned around on my stool, to look out over the undulating crowd and give myself a little more time to maintain the illusion of relief.

They really were a horny crowd tonight, more than a few bump-and-grinds on the floor, more than a few cocks getting sucked on the edges. Sometimes it was easy to start the whole place rutting in a chain reaction if something particularly good broke out. Such as... My eye caught on that one horse getting an intensely lewd lapdance in the back. I couldn't see the whole thing very well through the crowd, but it was impossible not to stare at someone's thick tail framing and squeezing at that gorgeous rod, starting to take that huge thing, sliding down with ease. Damn, whoever that was was good.

My tail flicked as I imagined being him; curling my tail, working my paws, getting just the right angle to press it in— fuck, no. Not now. I could jack off to this all I wanted later, but this wasn't my freedom to share right now.

I bared my teeth and pinched at the bridge of my muzzle, trying to force my tip back into my sheath. Exposed like this, I was convinced that everyone could see the bright pink of my unprofessionalism. The ache came back with a vengeance but I didn't let up, pressing on the bruise as if to seal its injury back in with it.

Asrael's voice cut through my turmoil and I startled despite myself. "So. When are you going to make good on that toast, hmm?" He tilted his head while talking towards me, again only letting me see his muzzle and ears.

I blinked, it took me a moment to parse what he meant. "What... 'Let it all hang out'?"

"Yeah. If you think just having a drink is enough, you're more of a pent-up workaholic than I thought."

I arched an eyebrow high. I held myself in the esteem of being a pretty chill manager, all things considered. My voice came out a little more gravelly than I wanted it to as I retorted, "You don't know me."

"Damn right I don't. You don't let you out." He gestured at me with his drink-paw, "You work every day in a den of faggotry and vice, but you're all pressed shirts and immaculate claws covering up the real beast. So yeah, you're pent-up."

Another animal might have made that into an impassioned speech about self-expression, but to Asrael it was seemingly an easy observation.

"Well... It's my job. I have to have some kind of professionalism."

"Skill issue."

I didn't return his barb this time, ears splaying. "Fine, I mean... You're right that considering the vibe around here I could probably loosen up on the business-casual at least."

"Good," he said simply and it felt good, though I wasn't sure why I wanted his approval, "And?"

I looked left and right, trying to sort through my thoughts. The kangaroo I'd noticed earlier was gone, we were the only ones left at the bar. The ache was making it very hard to keep any kind of cool, "And... I... I don't know what else I could do without--"

"Skill issue."

The phrase was starting to irk me and I nearly snarled, "So what would _you _do then? Just run around fucking everyone you feel like?" I flicked my paw out at the crowd, whiskers twitching.

Asrael grinned. Oh boy, he'd been expecting me to say something like that. Planting his empty glass on the bar, he wheeled himself to face out at the crowd, tail pressed back to keep himself in place while he folded his arms behind his head. The focal point of his outfit was on clear display, between spread and hanging legs: his fucking _watermelon _of a bulge, three enormous round shapes wrapped tight in a thin leather jock.

My ears folded in reflexive emasculation, staring at the sheer obscenity. Despite my suspicions about him being related to the DJ, it... It _had _to be a packer, right? All part of the theme, the ridiculously-well-endowed dom?

"Words to live by, fox." It throbbed, the top shape — his sheath — swelled. I lost all words as that throb hit me like I'd been there to feel it myself. It was real. Fuck, it was right there, I could just reach out a paw and touch it. The cage rattled hard, the clamor reverberating right down to my sheath.

He hooked a claw at the top of his jock, where button-snaps held his precarious package together. I felt his eyes on mine, drawing me to meet them. The shadow of his cap did nothing to obscure the emerald fires there.

"Let it all hang out," he declared as he tilted his claw, giving the buttons their last straw. A po-pop! rang out even over the music as the strained flap gave way, two delectable furry cantaloupes and an absolute summer sausage of a sheath, already disgorging the first six inches of the thickest cock I'd ever seen, ebony silhouette gleaming slick, rising impossibly far up against the rave lights, a tower supported by the same paw that freed it. I couldn't look, but I couldn't look away.

The music swelled with him, I heard several lewd sounds injected into the track to punctuate the beat as if leading the entire club in a chorus, gasping and moaning in awe of the otter's obelisk. I saw the DJ give a thumbs up from the corner of my eye but I couldn't spare a moment to process what the fuck that meant.

"Good boy," he purred to me, slowly cast into shadow behind his own knotted monolith. His spicy, leather-mixed musk hit my snout and I shuddered with mixed delight and barbs of pain. The daggers of his influence dug into me, sought the sensitive spots, and I felt my paw heat up, slick and smooth. My cock was out and drooling, I was working my knot through my sheath and suddenly there was precum all over my paw, stringed between my digits.

The cage door was open but I hadn't unlocked it. The image somehow stuck in my mind and refused to fade, leaving me terrified like I'd somehow gotten high or started hallucinating. Did he spike my drink? I'd barely even had any of it. The beast was out, pressing at the back of my mind, and I was helpless to stop myself from openly jacking my cock right here at the bar.

"Wh.. Where did my pants go," was all I could stutter out.

"You don't need them. They get in the way," Asrael said. His eyes spoke to mine, and I knew he was right.

"I... Of course they do but..." My mind was in shambles, eyes flicking back and forth between him, his eyes, his cock, the crowd, still pumping at my own average yet comparatively puny shaft, eight inches to his... I couldn't even gauge it, it was on a whole new scale that I wasn't used to measuring. Practically half my height. I felt drool building up in my maw as I smelled him, my tongue came out as if to taste him from here, all I had to do was reach out just a bit...

A "fuck yeah!" and a whoop came from the dance floor, cheers for Asrael's blatant display of hypermasculinity. Something in me rang out, begging me to join in too, but my throat felt tight. I desperately tried to find some lever to pull, some thread to follow to stop whatever was happening to me, and the cage crumpled around me and squeezed tight. I gripped at my chest, trying to figure out if I was having a panic attack, a heart attack, a dissociative episode, or an overdose. Or some combination?

I wanted to cover up my insistent erection, throbbing in the free air now that it had worked its knot out on its own. Or perhaps my digits had moved to pull down my sheath without me realizing. My thighs clenched to try to hide but it was no use. The mangled fragments of the cage were all that remained, wreathed into an unholy melange of barbed wire and fish hooks around the new creature that threatened to emerge from me.

Asrael's eyes drilled into me and he spoke again in a low, soothing tone I hadn't expected to hear from the brash otter, "You don't need to cover up here. You're safe to let it all hang out."

The new command hit me and the tension grew, emerald fibers pulling back against the curling cage, against the bursting cocoon. I gripped onto the counter for dear life, throat tensing like I was fighting something coming up. Sharp, the wire was so sharp. The cocoon cracked and though I could not emerge, I couldn't stop myself from trying. I couldn't get out, I could no longer stay in. Blood began to pool.

Another paw covered mine. Asrael's paw. He was standing in front of me, surprisingly concerned, seeking something in me, looking through me. My eyes stuck to his, the shifting pools of verdancy captivating my attention to soothe the razors and barbs for just a moment.

His concern grew into a frown, and then he tilted his head down to let his cap shield his eyes once again as he said, "Let me help."

I gaped, confused and overwhelmed. I didn't know what was going on, and I didn't know what he was going to do. But what I did know... Was that his paw on mine, the fading calm of his gaze, were the only things keeping me away from whatever precipice I found myself on, everything else had faded away somehow like it was just the two of us in this crowd of dozens.

I found the breath to squeak out, "Okay."

He nodded, and his other paw went to my unsheathed cock. I choked again, jerking stiff like a sharp current between the two had just snapped on. His eyes returned but this time I felt as if that alluring presence was invading me, his claws bared, a tide unleashed to quell my internal revolt. The crushing, slicing pressure of the mangled cage returned in full force, threatened by the cavalry.

He grunted, and I saw a flash of his teeth, heard a thick splatter somewhere below me. I couldn't turn to look, paralyzed by his sharp essence digging into the fish-hooked mess around my cocoon and pulling, separating, snapping lines and severing metal all the same. Though I knew the barbs were hurting me, what he was doing seemed to hurt as well; the metal was just as much me as the twine, as the blood that drooled from every puncture, as the fibers of my cocoon. I squirmed as he rent and tore, wincing and squeaking at the brutal ethereal field surgery like every motion was breaking a bone to set it back better.

Some part of me marvelled. What was he doing... What was he? I could barely see now with the cacophony of war inside me, my vision swam as I tried to focus on him. His edges were blurry, otter-shape smearing into tendrils of black and green and colors I couldn't name curling, swimming off of him and plunging into me with errant scythes of bone and claw, invisible yet for all the world more real than my own flesh.

Against the angel of death the resistance did not last long. The flocks of stabbing metal inside me crumpled under his alien force, an overwhelming force of vitality itself assaulting, absorbing and annihilating. His exertion was not without cost, though the pay was from vaults that seemed neverending. A mangled mass of residual metal coalesced in his embrace and he blasted it all into oblivion with another dual sound of exertion and expulsion. Something slowly, calmly fell away. Some part of me was gone, and with it I felt a curious void in my mind open up like I'd forgotten something important. But I wasn't even sure what had been lost.

Asrael seemed to be reversing the punctures I'd already suffered, filling them with his essence that quickly adapted to mesh with the whole, like it had always simply been me. I probed at the new, curious void in my brain while he worked. Unlike a stubbornly lost thought, the markers that might help me figure it out weren't there. There was not even enough of it to be on the tip of my tongue. What a bizarre sensation.

His grip released and my vision snapped back into context again. Back in the world, in my club. On a barstool. With music climbing back up in volume, from what had apparently been a lull.

"The fuck was that," I panted. I tried to think back, but the ragged shards of raw, baseless experience slipped through my fingers like a dream.

"How do you feel?"

I patted at my chest, expecting to feel something there. Just my shirt. Despite everything, my erection still stubbornly presented itself... But that was nothing new, now that I thought about it. Looking at that throbbing shaft and knot, I felt an odd gap like climbing a staircase in the dark, feeling your paw fall through the air where you thought a step would be. I couldn't help but dwell on it, searching the void until Asrael flicked his claws together in my vision.

"Cary. How do you feel?"

I had forgotten that he knew my name, felt like I had forgotten everything _for just a moment. I looked back up at him and the shadows above his snout where his eyes would be. It took me a second to categorize him again: _otter. I wasn't sure what I'd seen before was real at all. "I... I don't know. I feel... Okay?"

"Anything else?"

I shifted back and forth a bit, unsure if this counted. But I didn't know what the hell I'd just gone through. "Something feels off, but uh... Otherwise I feel... Good? Lighter." I was still panting, like I'd run a sprint recently. I struggled to recall what had gotten me so worked up. The divot where something used to be was fading, like a carpet being brushed over, and soon I could only feel it because I knew where it had been. Even that knowledge too faded, the space left over being slowly eased into by more of me. My shoulders slackened. I hadn't even realized they were tensed.

He nodded. "That's good." Another shockwave from his praise rumbled through me, and why shouldn't it? He was hot, and ridiculously hung. Of course I wanted his praise. I squeezed at my shaft and felt warm strings of precum hit my digits.

"... What were we talking about?" I frowned, trying to calm my heart and my breath as I grasped at the smoky leftover dregs of memory hanging around.

"You decided to let it all hang out." Cords of green twanged somewhere in the back of my mind, helping me reconstruct the shattered narrative of the past fifteen minutes.

"Oh. Oh! Yeah of course." I felt something further in me unravel, unclench, unfold. This felt right. "I mean, you were right. I never wear pants while I'm here, and why should I? Pants suck. I've been 'breaking' that unspoken rule from day one, but we keep the rule on the books."

I gestured exasperatedly, "And for what? Everyone keeping all cooped up, strangling themselves? And look at the horses of the world, look at you, covering up must be torture for you. Everyone should have the freedom to let it all hang out here, we're already known for it. What public 'decency' are we preserving, what are we _doing _if not giving animals that freedom?"

Freedom. The word felt unfamiliar on my tongue. I leaned back, propping an elbow on the bar while my other arm still worked at myself, casually appreciating my knot and my length while letting anyone else with a curious gaze appreciate it as well.

"So I think we'll change that. Maybe we won't advertise about it, but at least for those who come in we should be explicit about letting it all hang out here. We'd have to put in some new rules about consent of course. Maybe offer some badges to let animals communicate their touch preferences visually without needing to pin it on clothes. But I think Chet — er the owner, will go for it."

Asrael smirked, though I could read a bit of warmth behind it I hadn't seen before. "I know I'd certainly appreciate it. You wouldn't _believe _how hard it is to fit into things," He felt a bit reserved compared to his earlier bluster, but I didn't press on it. Maybe I could cheer him up.

"Well... Speaking of fitting into things. I'm glad you bent an ear for me tonight, and sorry for wrecking your earlier thing. You still looking for a steed to ride?"

The otter's sexy grin returned in full force, "Absolutely."

I got up and yerped as I stepped on something squishy: a pair of crumpled, cum-soaked pants had gotten in between my stool and the bar somehow. They were about my size, but they looked like they'd taken a bunch of collateral damage from Asrael's quick-fire cannon.

I called to the bartender and offered him the wad of denim, "Hey; can you make sure these get to lost and found? Dunno whose they are." He gave me a strange look.

***

"That was _really _fucking risky."

"Look, the guy was suffering. I know you know how bad it was. And I got us better conditions here. So it's win-win."

"... Yeah. I know you did what you thought was right. And you couldn't have known that he was going to have a fucking metacrisis when you started poking at him. You didn't leave him to bleed himself to a miserable soul-death and that's good. I just... This is going to spread, you know? You told him our name; we keep quiet for a reason. It's going to suck to have to find another club eventually."

"... Maybe we don't have to."

"We're not going to run the club."

"Yeah that's not what I meant. But we can at least be some guardrails for it. From the shadows, you know? We're our own surveillance network."

"Well... I admit we've never tried it."

It had to be fate or something. I didn't remember when I'd started coming to this club, but for me it served many purposes. As a weird queer otter, this was a place with so many other queer animals that it was a rare opportunity to blend in. There wasn't much better for relaxing, especially when I didn't feel terribly at home with my aspiring-pro-gamer roomie back in the dorm. I'd take somewhat-loud music every day over howling about lag and dropped inputs.

I'd always had tiny little seedling aspirations of being a music producer, or a composer, or a DJ, or something. I just loved music, and this wasn't the kind of music you could exactly get a classical education in. So every now and then I'd take some notes like 'clumsy song crossfade wrecks momentum', or 'lazy light choreo for otherwise good song', or 'holy shit can they keep a beat going for more than thirty seconds'.

Tonight though, the music really made me sit up and take notice. This wasn't the biggest club, so I got to see a whole range of skill levels. This guy was really up there. I noted a couple little flaws, like clashing time signatures between songs which could have really used a bridge, or muddy mids that drowned out the upper ranges. Compared to most there was a lot of passion on display though, and the coordinated lights were definitely a plus.

I did my coursework here pretty often, this place was practically my go-to chatty coffee shop to help me focus. People generally left me alone if I looked busy too, which was great for me; I wasn't super great at talking to strangers. Tonight I hadn't made a mark on the papers, I was too busy listening and critiquing and frankly just vibing to the energy of the whole place. Not often I felt like actually dancing.

The DJ himself was contributing a lot to that. He was looking out at the crowd, bouncing along, giving off tons of energy. I didn't know how he could keep it up, it looked exhausting, but he just looked so... In the zone. So at ease up in front of all those people, playing his work for them.

I'd gotten there at around nine thirty, so it had to be around an hour later that the music shifted to something smoother and the lights followed suit. The DJ was panting, he seemed like he was about to take a break while a couple low-energy tracks carried things for him. So I steeled myself, stuffed my papers into my backpack, and decided. I was going to talk to him. Maybe I could get some pointers, get started in the scene? I had no idea what I was going to ask him really, but I just wanted... Something, anything that could help me be more like him. Even just hanging out with him. He was an otter too, so maybe he'd already done some wrestling with the anxious tendencies of our species, maybe he had some actual advice that I could use for once without my own bullshit getting in the way.

It wasn't a huge place, but they still had a modestly sized "backstage". I felt very awkward being somewhere I technically wasn't supposed to be, but I lurked anyway in the hopes of catching the DJ unoccupied.

On equal footing now, I was surprised how short he was. Otters weren't the tallest species around, but for mustelids we did pretty well. I was 5'8", but this guy had to be more than a whole foot shorter than me. Maybe he was a hybrid of... Something? He had the right snout, muzzle shape and coat for an Irish river otter though, and they were usually kinda beefy. Irish would explain his hair, a shock of bright orange in a mohawk trailing back and down his neck, matched by a goatee on his chin. He didn't seem small enough to be a proper dwarf though either. Maybe I'd never know, since it felt rude to ask.

I took note of his attire, suitably bold and out-there for the face of the music. He had curved plastic light-up glasses, with etchings and tint to make it look like they were cybernetic or something. His torso was covered by an LED harness, strips criss-crossing his body and pulsing in time with the music. It looked like he'd set it to auto-audio mode, which was a little bit coarse but it got the job done. It was hardly visible behind the decks anyway so he'd likely prioritized things that animals were more likely to see. To finish off the rave look, he had plenty of glowstick bracelets covering his wrists and ankles, rattling every time he'd bounced or pumped his fist in the air.

He turned my way, swiping a paw across his forehead, and my tail went rigid against the floor. Ohhh, the decks had been hiding a lot. I'd assumed his harness was a one-piece or something, but nope. It was just a harness, and under it he was wearing nothing at all. His creamy-brown bellyfur trailed all the way down until it hit — I had to blink a few times to be sure I wasn't seeing wrong — a sheath that I was somehow able to plausibly compare to a two-liter soda bottle in girth and length, with balls like huge oblong melons hanging towards his fucking knees. They fought for space between his thighs, forced to roll with every step he took towards me.

He tipped his head at me and passed me by, heading for a door further backstage. I realized I was staring. I mean of course I was staring, anyone would. But I was losing my chance.

"U-uh h—" My voice caught in my throat and I cleared it. The DJ stopped and turned back towards me, "Hmm?"

"Um. Great music! Uh. I-if you have a moment. I'm guessing you're taking a break? Would it be alright if I talked— asked you some questions? I'd love some uh, advice. On being a DJ." I cringed at myself, why couldn't I just put a sentence together?! I mean, I had more than the usual number of reasons to be jittering in my fur at talking to him, considering... Everything. At least I'd said something coherent enough and close to the truth, even if DJ wasn't my only ambition.

"Sure. You can call me DJ. Let's talk in here," he said as he continued on his path and waved for me to follow.

I blinked. "DJ" couldn't really be his name, could it? That was just too perfect.

He led me to an unassuming door and went in; I hesitated at the threshold, but he waved at me again and my paws unfroze for long enough to get in and close the door behind me.

It was something of a dressing room, even if it clearly had to double up as a storage space too. A beat-up maroon sofa sat in front of a bunch of disused carts, mic stands, and a few snarled-up cord monsters. A few years' worth of posters littered the walls for acts I didn't recognize, surrounding a mirror and makeup... Thing. Station?

DJ hopped up on the couch and immediately lounged back into it, spine and tail curved around in a familiarly musteline languid recline. He looked very cozy, even wiggling his shoulders to sink a little further in. It would have been cute if not for the pose very much emphasizing his package, balls settling a little apart over the thick curve of his tail while his sheath swelled— er, was he getting hard right now??

He sighed in relief like one might after finally putting down a heavy load, cock emerging to slide up along his belly and chest, throbbing and growing at a terrifying rate. The virile ebony pillar was already so disproportionately huge, so foreign, that I barely even questioned it when a knot slipped out of his sheath and bulged, making the whole thing look even more enormous. I could have sworn that even his balls swelled bigger as he relaxed. The shapes were so inviting to my hindbrain, I fought the urge to just press my snout right in between them.

Then he started stroking himself, in a slow, easy way. Uh... Was I supposed to give him privacy? But he'd been wearing nothing to begin with. And he'd just sprawled out in front of me like this. But naked was different from getting hard, and especially different from doing something with it, and him being so insanely big made the lewd-social-factor feel even stronger than if I'd gotten hard or something. Which I was rapidly approaching anyway. I fidgeted in place for a moment until he spoke, thankfully saving me from my internal yarn ball of social calculus.

"Don't mind me, I know you're not here for this. I don't have long enough to fool around anyway, the setup out there is just kinda cramped." Cramped indeed. He patted the seat next to him, and on autopilot I followed his suggestion, slipping my backpack into my lap to cover my growing tent.

"So you were saying?" he prompted.

"I... I, yeah. I mean..." I hesitated. This was exactly what I wanted. He was — no disrespect, I was all for it — a freak, and yet he was able to hold himself so gracefully in front of a complete stranger. He'd been out in front of all those strangers, practically in nothing but his fur for hours and it didn't bother him at all! Though his sudden erection felt somehow more intentional than just natural urges. Had he trained himself to control it? I supposed he'd have to have some kind of extra skill, to keep that python in line. This line of thinking was not making talking any easier though, so I dropped it immediately.

"I uh, I really love music. And you, you're so... In tune with yourself. You just know what you want, and you make the space yours. And I can feel it in your music— I mean I know it's mostly not yours, but the sets, the design of it all, the lighting, the way you weave it. There's an animal's touch to it, and you're clearly having fun. I want to feel that in the zone about anything. I just... Overthink everything." My rambling helped distract me from the pulsing monster atop him, but I knew I'd gotten a little off topic from where I wanted all that to go.

"Hah, thanks. That's really nice to hear, I do put a lot of work into it." He slowly, luxuriously, kneaded along his turgid length. No slower or faster just because I was looking or complimenting him, he went at exactly his own pleasure.

I tried to continue to fill the sexual silence, "I've been thinking about getting into DJing, or something. I don't really know what I want to do yet but I know I love music, and... That involves showing my work to the world. Even if I'm not standing up o-on a stage like—" my voice faltered when I imagined just existing out there with such a luridly large point of exposure, letting everyone see who you truly are without even trying, "— like you, it's a public performance one way or another."

I shifted my backpack to keep the pressure off my straining erection. He seemed so at ease and I felt so outside that, I didn't want to break that spell by introducing my own awkward boner to it.

"Ahhh. So you want that kind of confidence?" He was fully paying attention to me, though I couldn't help but notice his paw sliding faster, casually brushing and squeezing along his pointed canid-esque tip. Something about it spurred me to talk more, to get out some of the knot of feelings that had been growing.

"That's part of it. I don't know, it's hard to explain. I want to feel... Comfortable in my own skin. Like I could come here and go sheath-out like you, and not only feel everyone's eyes on me. I want to be more like you, just..." I gestured towards his utterly casual self-care, "Unique, and having some kind of place in the world that isn't just a random passersby in everyone's life."

He snorted as if in ironic humor, and I tilted my head a bit. He couldn't possibly have felt like that too, though?

"I don't think I can really offer much advice without knowing you better. And I don't have a magic pill, necessarily. But..." He considered, brushing his free claws through his goatee in thought. "I could probably give you an experience, at least, that will help. Rub off on you, hopefully. It might be a bit scary though."

I raised an eyebrow and chose my words carefully, "... Are you meaning like, recreational uh, substances?"

He laughed out loud, wriggling in his seat and splurting precum along his chest from the exertion of his giggles. "No, nothing like that. It's not illegal, and I promise it won't harm you. But you do have to trust me since it'll be pretty weird."

Relieved that it wasn't drugs, I was wondering now if he was going to pants me and put me up on stage with him, that kind of "trust exercise". That would be a literal nightmare, but that didn't seem his kind of style... And it wouldn't mesh with the implication of his tone. It didn't seem like he was going to tell me any more, and I considered turning him down... But what would that accomplish? I'd leave this room the same frustrated, anxious otter that I had been going in; at least letting him help me would be trying something new.

Despite my internal decision, it took me a bit to summon the actual courage to say, "Okay."

He perked up, happy that I'd taken his offer, and pulled his legs and tail in to... Stand on the couch? It was odd to be looking up at him now, and his huge shaft was... Quite a lot of my field of vision. My jitters grew as he got closer, casually took my backpack to put it on the floor, then settled himself down on my lap.

Even more than the intimate contact, the most striking sensation was heavy. This fucking shaft had to weigh half as much as the otter himself, and it was hot, and it was so close to my snout. I felt dizzy, cloistered by his musk and overwhelmed by his warm presence all over me.

"I-I thought we... W-weren't here for sex??" I squeaked and yipped.

"Nah this is just incidental," he said, grinning at my plight. I was a mess, and I could feel my erection straining hard against the weight of his balls, only a thin layer of fabric separating my lust from his heavy tanks.

He leaned forward, planting his paws on my shoulders, and as his face drew closer I fixated on his eyes. They were such a deep green, even through the tint of his light-up rave visor, whatever the hell those things were called. He kept leaning, and I briefly tensed as I thought he was going to kiss me... And then a sense of vertigo started to grow. He was leaning in, I could feel it, but he wasn't getting closer? What was he doing?

Something is wrong, screamed my sense of balance. The couch felt like it was swaying, he was pressing on my shoulders, pushing me back, getting closer, but nothing was moving right. My breathing became erratic as some deep internal sense of wrong started to grow, the room dimmed and frayed at the edges, I wanted to get my bearings but his eyes kept me captive. I couldn't look away, he pressed and moved and dragged me with him at some unknowable angle, the sensation of movement rattled me but I was still on the couch? What was he doing?!

The lights behind him, the ceiling, the walls all fractured and fell away into blackness, leaving behind threadbare echoes of themselves. Barely able to perceive them out of the sides of my eyes, it was like I was looking at a poorly-photocopied version of the room, displayed on the worst projector imaginable.

I glimpsed the dark flesh of his tongue and lips as he spoke, a strange counterpart to the oppressive presence of his ebony cock still heatedly pulsing on my chest, somehow an anchor through this translocation. The world was blurry yet yet he and his voice were clear, "Steady. You're doing great."

Great? This was great?? I was gripping pawfuls of the couch and my teeth were bared in terror! At least I wasn't nauseous through all the shifting and moving, though I suspected that fixating on him was doing a lot to help that.

We moved, and the darkness behind him shifted again into blues and cyans, threaded through with erratic artifacts that seemed almost like dead spots in my vision, moving with some bizarre correlation to my perspective that was extremely unsettling. I gasped as I felt something loosen within me— all of me, like I was just a liquid that remembered its prior shape.

DJ seemed to undergo the same shift, though I didn't know how I could tell. Something about him, the texture of his fur, the striations of his irises, were not sitting quite so steady anymore.

"Doing good. Just one more scary bit and then you'll be good to go." His voice resonated oddly, bouncing off walls that weren't there and coming back with a garbled undercurrent of bass.

"M-more...?" I squeaked.

He nodded. "It's okay. Like I said, you won't be harmed. Remind me what you wanted?"

His tone indicated he knew, but he wanted me to say it anyway. "I-I want to be you? I mean— Like you?"

The otter grinned, and I couldn't tell if he had the right number of teeth. "You were right the first time."

He leaned towards me again and this time he did grow closer, but not quite how I expected. He felt so close... The fixation on his eyes broke and I looked at myself to see— his paws were sinking into me!

I gaped, looking back and forth, trying to confirm what I was seeing. Everywhere he touched me he was sinking, pressing right through my matter, ripples distorting both of us as he entered. Size and space themselves started to distort, the otter inside me somehow feeling bigger and smaller both at once. His cock pressed, looking almost like a limb of its own as it submerged into the entire length of my chest, disgorging waves of self as it sent shocks of heat and electricity stabbing at my nerves. New things, new desires, new thoughts made themselves known.

His snout met mine, and he began to wrap around me — within me — through me, a kaleidoscope of mixing, swirling selves squeezing into and through each other. His eyes fractured and budded into more, his digits became six to a paw, then eight, then ten as he blossomed into me. His essence spread, grew, multiplied like a fractal around me.

I fell through and onto an inconceivable infinity of emerald eyes and teeth and too many pawdigits, too many cocks, too much otter permeating me with every inch of his flesh. They all grasped at me from every direction, grasped and tore and I nearly screamed, not from pain because confusingly there was none, but just from the sheer alien caliber of what was happening to me. He pulled and I parted at his touch, and he wove with all of those limbs and digits, interleaving every particle of me with an infinity of him until we were one. I writhed, unsure of whether I existed at all in his expanse, let alone quite where or when.

A hard jolt hit me and I shook with the impact. I felt like I was somewhere new. The nether-darkness was trembling, filaments of light started to reassemble, and so too did I. A familiar-yet-foreign space came folding back around me and I responded, strung back into place in a pattern, a structure, an animal webbed through with DJ's design. I blinked uncoordinatedly, trying to reconcile what I was seeing back into space, into geometry I understood for once.

In front of me stood... Me. I was looking up at my own backside, standing in front of the battered old couch in the dressing room. At least I thought it was me. The right gray fur, the right messy hair. Was that what my tail looked like to other people? The scar from when I'd caught it in a car door was kind of cute from this perspective.

The other-me turned to look down at me, and I saw that he had the right brown eyes, too... But he was wearing DJ's wraparounds. I tried to speak, but I couldn't move. Every bit of me was heavy, utterly spent from what I'd just been through. My vision darkened, and I realized my eyes were closing without me. I wanted to howl, but all that came out was "nnuughh".

Other-me bent down, pulling off DJ's ravewear and placing them on me. The cyan-tinted lights framed my vision, dimming slowly as the rest of my awareness did.

"Bit of advice: don't take these off," other-me said. That couldn't be how my voice actually sounded... It was the right timbre, if a little higher-pitched than I thought, but he sounded so at ease, so amused. Like he had the kind of confidence I'd asked DJ for. Why couldn't I move? Was this some kind of fucked up genie wish, was a doppleganger going to take my place?

"Have a good night," was the last thing I heard before the lights fully went out.

***

Someone was shaking me. I gasped as I came to. A fennec stood in front of me — Cary, I knew his name.

"DJ. Break's over," he said.

I blinked, limbs up in the air, stunned and confused. I was... On the couch. In the dressing room. What was I doing?

"You okay?" Cary asked.

I tried to remember what I'd been doing before I woke up, but I drew a blank. Everything drew a blank.

"... What'd you call me?" I slurred. My mouth and tongue felt wrong. Cary frowned.

"DJ? Your name and conveniently also what you should be doing now." He raised an eyebrow at me as I sat up with some effort, putting a paw to my head. Everything felt foreign, the room looked wrong... Everything was too big.

"You on something?" the fennec asked, giving me The Suspicious Eyebrow.

"No. No drugs," I said almost automatically.

"Okay..." He seemed unconvinced. Things were starting to slot themselves back into my head now, finally. I was DJ, and I'd come in here for a break.

I shook my head and yawned, "I didn't realize I was so tired. Sorry about that."

He looked me up and down, watching me get my brain back in order before deciding I probably wasn't a lying junkie, "I'd be more mad if you weren't giving it your all out there. Do you need a coffee or something?" He offered me a paw and I took it, easing myself up off the couch. Looking down, I realized I was naked — except for my glasses, thankfully. I shouldn't take them off, I remembered.

It looked like I'd dumped off all my glowy bits onto the floor before napping somehow. Weird, I didn't even remember doing it. I threw on my harness and started snapping all the glow-bracelets back on.

"Yeah actually that sounds pretty great. Add cream," I said.

He smirked, and I felt something odd, almost like a whisper... But not a sound. I looked at Cary and so many tiny details about him jumped out at me that I hadn't seen before. A tiny twitch at the corner of his muzzle, the faint angle on his left ear, his thumb and index claws rubbing together. I got the distinct impression he'd made some kind of lewd joke about cream in his head. I grinned, "Trust me, I've tried it. Doesn't work out as well as I wish it did."

Cary startled a bit, wondering if he'd been that obvious. He hadn't, but I wasn't sure why I'd even known in the first place.

There we go, I was all dressed up now. I appraised the rave-monster I'd become once again. Looked good. And... Damn my package was looking huge. It always had been, but I was struck by the majesty of my equipment as if I'd never noticed it before. In awe, I reached down to grasp at my sheath, to heft one of those paw-overflowing orbs and shuddered — they felt so good, giving me little thrills of exhilarating pleasure, clearing the rest of the mist from my brain. I swayed my tail, letting my balls bounce off my thighs and enjoying the tantalizing peek of dark flesh that grew out of my sheath. The beast stirred, and I grinned as I felt the warmth of Cary's suppressed lust.

He turned around promptly to ignore my self-groping, looking thoroughly awkward in a way I didn't even need to try to read off him, "Alright well, get back out there and I'll pass you a coffee as soon as I can." His big fluffy tail flicked as he left.

"Sure!" I chirped. I was starting to feel much better, I must have really needed that nap... Or maybe I was charged up from the interaction with the fennec? Either way, I ought to get back to the music.

I tried jogging to the decks, but after a couple uncomfortable jolts to my balls I had to stop and power-walk instead. Couldn't rush when I was this loaded up.

Finally, the decks. I tilted my head a bit, having a brain fart about... What exactly this setup was. My laptop was hooked into the center of the console, and it looked like I'd integrated the player software into the beat pads and the turntables. Of course there weren't any vinyls on them, but if I really felt like it I could spin them to tell one of my tracks to skip back by a few beats, build suspense for a drop, something like that.

In the background, some software was running to control the lights. I... Right, I had coded this. That's why the UI was so sketchy, it was just the bare minimum of what I needed, hooking into the light software to run my own custom stuff. But um... I didn't need to touch that. I was convinced it would handle itself.

So I needed to change the tracks. Start up a new rhythm. I knew where to reach and what to do so I let my muscle memory take over, tapping at my trackpad and resetting the beat pads, queueing up a transition. The lights software responded and I saw the mood change; blues and purples shifted to the building excitement of turquoise, of greens and cyans, as the lead-in to the next track came on.

The crowd took notice, and I heard — I felt — a shift in their attention. A few more animals migrated to the dance floor as the beat built, and I felt myself bouncing on my paws along with them.

The peek from earlier grew as I felt the tide grow in the crowd. The music swelled and so did I, inches slipping out of my sheath, my tongue hanging from my maw in pleasure. So much pleasure, just for steadily getting hard. The whispers were starting again but instead of concerned I was elated: their attention, their pleasure was like so many electric prickles on my shaft, the ghosts of paws caressing my balls.

Energy welled up within me; I felt here, I felt now, I felt alive for once. Was it really this much of a confidence booster just to be hung as fuck? Well... It was an undeniable part that I clearly enjoyed the hung part, but it was also the experience of giving these animals an experience. Helping them relax, helping them feel joy or relief or just empty their heads for a while.

The song shifted, picked up even higher, and the club buzzed with energy. I buzzed too, I danced and bounced on my paws, I tapped at the beat pads to inject some extra fun into the tracks, I wiggled and swayed and shook my hips, tail swinging all about and—

I caught the eye of someone in the crowd, a normal gray otter I didn't recognize. He was looking at me, and that's when I realized I was fully hard and knotted, which was definitely visible from outside the booth, particularly eye-catching with how thrusty I was getting... Oop, I hit my chin with a thick shot of precum before I could react — the idea of just being seen by everyone like this was tantalizing — but the otter was right, I ought to keep it down and not draw too much attention.

Er, wait. He hadn't said anything. He was way too far away to have said anything that I could hear. Well whatever, it was still a good idea. I pressed down with both my paws and bit my lower lip to muffle the resulting moan, as I trapped the top several inches of my cock up under the decks. Conveniently, there was already a bucket there to catch the precum spilling from my tip.

I nearly smacked myself in the forehead. I'd forgotten to empty the bucket on my break! It was already half full, so I was going to have to sneak out at some point to dump it out. Well... Whatever, that was a later problem.

Cary clonked a to-go cup of coffee on the far side of the decks so I could hear it. I nearly pounced on it, drinking with both paws clutching delicious lifeblood. My weapon threatened the fennec, making him scamper away before he could get a whiff of its eager drool of pheromone-laden precum. Whatever, his loss.

Freshly caffeinated, I started to work up my own rhythm again while being more mindful of my endowment, not taking long at all to sync back up with the pulse of the crowd. Back in the swing, riding the beats and drops, I glanced back at that otter.

He was completely in the fur, the only animal wearing not a single thing on the dance floor. Chatting up a bashful looking ibex, he was getting quite pawsy with the guy. Damn, he was pretty hung too: what looked like over a foot of black otter meat bounced around above some pretty sizeable balls. What a coincidence. Though he was one of those curious otters who'd ended up with an unsheathed simian style shaft. At least the foreskin was very fun to get a tongue in. I considered trying to play with him later... But I had other priorities, I knew. Didn't have time for that.

The bucket splashed with a new cascade of heated precum as I watched him lock muzzles with the ibex and press their cocks together, eagerly grinding. Fuck, I had to keep this thing under control before I just blew. Didn't have enough buckets for that flood. Yet somehow even after taking my eyes off them, the pressure continued to grow. The trickle of their jaggedly lustful energy continued, and I couldn't ignore it. My ears folded flat to my head, was this really going to happen? My cock thickened, my knot bulged hard and I grunted — until suddenly a valve opened and pressure released.

The otter had just cum against the ibex, who was cumming in return whether he was ready for it or not. Ottercum overwhelmed him, painting his torso with far more than I expected. Damn that was hot.

Looking down, I prodded at my cock. It was still ragingly hard, still sensitive and prickly with the energy of the crowd, there was no doubt. But, I hadn't cum and that was a small blessing.

No wait... Of course I hadn't cum. Just like I was harvesting energy from the crowd, I could send it back into them. And there were so many alluring targets to unload into...

Over the next hour or so, I bounced and played up on the stage, weaving music and dancing, rearranging and remixing and swimming around in all the energy and joy. I couldn't resist playing with my newly-remembered powers too, of course. Even harvesting created some residual lust in the target, as if encouraging them to keep providing, to get them stuck in a vicious cycle. I made a mental note not to let that happen unless I was very sure I wanted to.

Gods it was tempting. But I knew that there was better pleasure in the long-term sustainability of letting the crowd vibe off me as I vibed off them. What a receptive bunch of animals, too, easily letting their shame fall away in the dance hall, even encouraging each other! I saw that otter from earlier give a "woo!" at a ferret getting his mind utterly blown from an under-table blowjob, a hyena begging to join in on sucking a massive cock, a lion painting himself with far more cum than he expected to shoot and his pride joining in on jacking themselves to the sight.

As if I could feel it ahead of time, my eyes were drawn to the back of the room, to the bar, where someone unleashed a pillar of cock to rival mine! He was going to get the fennec — oh that was Cary — to let it all out, I knew. Good for him, the guy couldn't even take looking at my balls earlier.

I gave him a thumbs up and mashed my paws at the pads, punctuating the track with a few moans and thrusting noises, woven into the beat. Fuck that felt good, rippling through the crowd like a subliminal wave, backfeeding into my throbbing antenna.

The otter from earlier showed up behind the decks and I cheerily chirped, "Hey!" He nodded at me, cock throbbing up against the bottom of his pecs and balls roiling, each larger than his fist. Of course he'd grown, with how much fun he'd been having: his fur was all mussed with seed and his muzzle painted with plenty of cum. Not all his own, either.

He didn't speak, but I knew what he wanted: he was going to take over, since I needed a load off. That was an excellent idea.

"You ought to empty the bucket! It's spilled over a little!" I yelled to him in the din of music and the whispering cacophony of sex. He gave me a somewhat patronizing smile, he'd be sure to empty it.

I looked out to the crowd, immediately honing in on a particularly horny looking roo who was jacking himself on the sidelines. I ought to take him to the backrooms and have some fun. Third room on the right.

I followed my thoughts, the beacon in my mind bringing me right to him without a detour. Big guy got my cock drooling, and now I didn't have to hide it. He didn't want me to either, firing a shot against himself just at seeing me and the slab of meat I proudly wore. I loved being this small and this hung. Everyone's minds were blown, their cocks were blowing, everyone won.

"Hey big guy. Got something fun in the back room that I think you'd enjoy riding." I grinned, and took his paw.

He sputtered, then stood up. "Y-Yeah! Fuck, yeah! Gods give me the hole to take that thing..."

Being a big sub was the worst. Everyone saw the buff well-hung kangaroo and immediately went to "ooh rail me daddy". Would it _kill _them to get to know me first before they flagged their tails at me? Not like I didn't have my rare dommish moods, but...

It was always hard to explain what it was like to be me. Animals would kill for my body, and I knew that, but it didn't make it any easier to be who I actually was. Instead I was the big one, the elder brother, always always having to be the stronger better roo. Under that kind of pressure, it was no wonder it had taken me until I was twenty-five to figure out what I really wanted. For three more years now I'd been painstakingly working out how to get it.

Trust me, I'd tried the other way. Seemed so much easier to lean into my size, my build, convince myself they were just some fleeting thoughts. I'd worked out, developed a jockish affect I wasn't really proud of (and I knew Hunter wasn't really a fan of either). But I didn't even play sports. Well okay I did some ultimate frisbee back in college but that doesn't count much when you have the build of a lineman.

Yet I always ended up back here. Not literally here, I'd never seen Elysium before, but back in the spot of trying to figure out some way to communicate what I really wanted, have someone know me and... Just fuckin'... Shove me to my knees and make me service a good cock. Or a hole. Service top was plenty gratifying too. As long as someone could hold my leash.

Well there was a thought: maybe I ought to get a harness and collar. I saw a good few of those around here... Even the DJ was wearing one. I'd been put off by how grabby people could get at them, but it seemed like a decent idea if I could navigate the social stuff around it. A devious thought sent a thrill down my spine... I could even get a little tag on it that says "SERVICE FERAL". Maybe one of those pup hoods, they were kinda cute. I'd have to shop around when I wasn't here with my little brother...

Fuck, what was I even doing here, losing time I could be spending with him? I'd brought my little brother to a nightclub, though Hunter... Well I'd glimpsed him around, talking to people. Maybe he was doing okay. And not like I could clean up spilled milk by hanging out with him now. At the very least I ought to get some tail and take the weight off my shoulders for a while.

Elysium was much hornier than I'd expected. I wished I'd found it sooner, with the sheer amount of sex I saw happening on the sidelines, and some frankly good music. I wasn't much of a dancer, but just losing myself in the beat was fun sometimes, at least when Hunter was around to laugh at me for it. Then I'd make fun of him back.

Two thoughts meshed uncomfortably in my head. The comfort, the ease of being known that I sought, combined with the fact that Hunter knew me better than anyone else. Better than the fleeting boyfriends I'd had, better than our mom and dad. He'd think I was a freak for even entertaining this line of thought... But he'd at least hear me out. He'd always do that for me.

My luck was pretty crap though, and what did I expect when I came here in plainclothes and not... Some kind of kinky setup that might convey what I want? A lot of the good prospects I'd seen were taken by the time I realized they were options, like that horse who was getting his mind blown by someone riding him hard.

I wanted that. The little guy was fully power-bottoming the buff horse, attracting even more people to come get in on the action. I couldn't see it super well from across the room, but I'd certainly been groping at myself through my slacks. Maybe if I came back here and I was lucky, I could find that shortstack myself...

Somewhat enjoying just being a voyeur for now, I glanced around a little more. A gray otter was walking around without anything on at all, looking like he'd had more than a few loads on his muzzle and chest. Holy fuck he was hung too, just full hardon swinging around slapping at his abs. Well... Cum was a hell of an outfit to signal "use me". What was he even doing to get so much action?

I followed him with my eyes (and pushed a paw down my pants), seeing him hone in on someone on the dance floor. Like he just knew exactly where to go. He slipped in front of a dalmatian, whose rhythm fell totally out of whack as he saw the otter's swaying boner. They got close, otter saying something. The dal's ears perked up high. And then.. Just like that he nodded, his spotted tail wagging as the otter knelt, tugging his skimpy shorts down and sucking his cock right there. My maw watered. He'd gone from "hi" to blowjob in less than ten seconds. I was irate and boned up as fuck.

Why the fuck was there _more than one _blatantly open power bottom going around and I wasn't getting involved? I couldn't even blame them, I was just sitting on the sideline like an idiot. Gods my balls ached. If I wanted to get some kind of action I had to be more open, I told myself. And so, I pushed my undergarments fully down, sitting on my tail to let my cock be seen, jacking my twelve very noticeable inches.

Yet before I could get any lingering eyes, there was a small uproar from the crowd and even the music surged as if the star of the show was coming on stage. I saw the DJ gesturing, and followed his line of sight to the bar—

An otter clad all in leather sat slouched back at the bar, showing off his absolutely enormous cock and balls to the crowd. What the hell did they feed him, it was like a third leg! I gaped unashamedly, knowing many people around me were enjoying the sight too. My cock was making a mess of my paw, spurting as if blessed by a glimpse of its very own patron saint of shaft.

What the fuck was going on tonight? Was there some exhibitionists' convention I didn't know about, were there flyers I'd ignored? Were the otters staging a coup and finally taking out their infinite libidos on all us otherfolk??

Someone came up to me and I did a double-take, partly from trying desperately to look back at the obsidian slab of meat in full view, and partly because yet another gorgeous cock had appeared right in front of me. Another otter was wielding it, one I recognized as the DJ from the flashy harness and glowsticks. I didn't remember him sporting this much meat either, it practically came up to his muzzle. It was hard to compare from this distance, but up close... Fuck maybe it was even more than the one showing off at the bar. I'd died and gone to mega-cock heaven.

I glanced up at the decks; the gray cum-covered otter had taken over for him. What in the fuck? The DJ got my attention again with the most in-your-face line I've ever heard.

"Hey big guy. Got something fun in the back room that I think you'd enjoy riding." Then he grinned, devilish fangs all flashing, and took my paw. The right one, not the one stuck to my cock.

My brain went blank, overloaded by so much sex. He... What was he asking? No he was telling. He was telling me. That he was going to fuck me?? He'd picked me out of the crowd, the huge roo, as his fucktoy.

I realized I was supposed to say words. Say yes you fucking mongrel. SAY YES!

I stood up, "Y-Yeah! Fuck, yeah!" A little bit of my jockishness slipped in there but I could care less.

The little beast dragged me along, my cock trailing wisps of precum into the air. We passed by the other titanically hung otter in the room and my heart skipped as he gave me a grin. I couldn't see his eyes under his cap, but he sure was tracking me like a predator, making my tail twitch with delight.

It all just felt so surreal. This had to be a dream, Hunter was about to tail-slap me awake from where I was drooling into my pillow. And yet I didn't wake up, even with every step somewhat clumsily trying to match pace with someone half my size and twice my cock.

"Gods give me the hole to take that thing..." I murmured.

***

It took me only one roo-pace to get to the bed, shoulder-rolling onto the pleasantly plush mattress. My cock stood tall between my legs, twitching as I looked down the bed at it. I hadn't been this worked up in a long time.

The otter jumped up behind me with more of a thud than I expected— his cock slapped onto the bed and left a startlingly large trail of precum all the way up to the headboard beside me, the stud's bewildering virility making me pulse and fidget.

A foreboding smile sat on his little muzzle as he sauntered up along the bed towards me, the pendulum of his meat swaying back and forth. The whole effect gave me a little shiver.

He simply stepped across my shoulders and sat atop me, smothering me under his frankly irresponsible amount of junk. I yerfed and huffed and wriggled beneath him, pinned by someone half my size. Every breath was a dose of his musk, every glimpse of those brightly-lit eyes a reminder of who held the reins.

"Hmmm, now what to do with this little thing under me?" the otter teased. His balls filled the space between my muzzle and neck, his knotted ottershaft was my whole horizon.

"A-anything. Please," I gasped, his scent imprinting into my snout like I'd be smelling only him for days. It went straight to my cock, twelve inches of steel-hard roo urgently flagging down a playmate.

"So desperate. I bet you're pretty pent up. So few animals can see what your use is... where your place is... Beneath someone bigger and better." He punctuated every emphasis with a throb, sending shockwaves from his pole into my muzzle and tearing a hole in the fence around the needy beast I actually was.

I could only whine, too overwhelmed and euphoric at being seen so clearly for once. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve such a gift, I would do _anything _to keep it going. A nudge at my cockbase made me buck upwards, buoyed by my tail; the otter's rudder was teasing at it, flicking back and forth.

"I think I ought to call in a few friends, let them use the new toy I found. What do you think?" Those eyes and fangs glimmered at me, shaded by the monolith of cock.

For a moment, I couldn't speak. More animals? That was a thing that could just happen, just like out on the club floor? Was I really sure this wasn't a dream?

"Y-yeah. Please," I nearly moaned, trying to catch my breath.

"Perfect." With that, he simply looked to his left and beckoned. I heard pawsteps, I wanted to look, but I couldn't see around the bait and tackle crowding my muzzle. His friends were already here?

A set of heavier steps had gone around to my backside, and my footpaws squirmed in anticipation. Who was he, and what was he going to do to me? The thrill was more intoxicating than I expected.

A set of lighter paws came up to my side as they climbed the bed. I blinked to see another small otter... Almost identical. In EVERY way, I realized, as another enormous cock joined the first, rubbed against it, framed my muzzle in the temple of masculinity. I thought I knew the tenets of that religion, but clearly I was wrong.

"Y-you... Uh?" I couldn't form any words between the two of them, dazed and trying to keep my tongue from automatically worshiping both of those poles.

The new one chuckled. The previous one laughed. "I'm DJ. This is Coll—"

"Collin," he cut in. His voice was a little bit lower on the register, smoother compared to the sugar-high chatter of his, uh... Relative?

I looked back and forth between them. If they didn't have on different gear I wouldn't be able to tell them apart whatsoever. "No way, are you guys...?" I ventured.

"Twins!" DJ chirped.

"Ffff_uck_ that's hot," burst out of me before I even realized. It was true, but I didn't know quite how sensitive of a button it was for me until I'd seen it... Until I saw... Oh fuck.

Two extremely salacious looks met as their muzzles clashed, glimpses of black tongues writhing against each other while their crossed swords pulsed and leaked, stray paws reaching out to comfort the other's shaft. I groaned in burning lust, my balls feeling like they were going to burst, a fountain of precum running down my shaft.

I heard a huff from the foot of the bed. Someone liked what he was seeing. I curled my tail down to press my rear and cock up for him.

"P-please... Whatever you'd like. I've been training, I can take some pretty big guys... Um, I dunno if I can take _these _two though, honestly," I chuckled nervously. The otter twins pulled apart and licked the drool off each others' faces, looking content.

"Don't worry, we get that all the time," Collin said.

"We'll see about that," DJ followed with an evil grin. I doubted I could even get them in my maw, but I didn't want to spoil any of the cavalcade of kinks going on.

"For now though, I think there's someone who very much wants to use that tail of yours..." Collin looked back at the unknown guy.

"Mmngh. Yes please. I'm yours," I mewled more submissively than I even knew I could.

The animal got up on the bed, intertwining his hips with mine. I felt a cock against mine and grunted, tingles rushing through me at the rare frotting action. He felt big too, even longer than me but only a little girthier. Perfect to fill me, I thought, clenching and readying myself.

I desperately wanted to look, but the otters pinned me down with two cannons and four cannonballs, their muzzles intertwining with mine to involve me in their forbidden makeout. A flash of heat hit me, flushed my ears, I couldn't believe how hot I found it. I worked my tongue along theirs, reaching my paws up to grope at whatever of their overflowing organs I could touch.

Whoever was down there was a big animal like me. He was getting very close, hugging up along me, meshed his haunches with mine. His tail came down, and curled around mine. That was unmistakably a roo tail.

Finally a new muzzle came into view and the otters parted for him. I startled. The haze of the twins' lust kept me from kicking him off in shock, but I still could hardly believe my eyes.

"H-Hunter?!"

He winced, but some kind of determination spurred him on. "You wanted to scope out some tail, Zeke. So did I. Turns out the one I've wanted for a long time was... Yours."

Collin smiled in some kind of proud way. DJ giggled at the cheese of it all.

I panted, my heart beating fast and loud in my ears. And yet, my cock pulsed as a bizarre anchor out of the panic trying to build in my chest. His throbbed back against mine, and his hips shifted to grind. Between the dual frames of the otters' cocks, his eyes glowed. He... Really did want me, bad.

"Y-... You do? I..." Fuck, I... I really did want him too.

He could see it. He gave me a look more predatory than I'd ever seen from him, even more than when he'd whooped me in Paw Smasher. My little bro was on top of me, and I...

"I'm gonna pump you full of joeys, Zeke."

Whoever this was, I needed him.

"Yeah... Yeah. Gods yes, fuck me, please." The haze settled comfortably back into me and I knew the seal was broken, the deed was done. No going back for either of us.

The otters looked absolutely pleased with themselves and I wondered how in the fuck this setup had happened.

"Give us just a sec here," Collin said.

"You two need a bit of prep," DJ added as they scampered down to our rear ends. Without them giving me cock-tunnel-vision, a little bit of unease settled back into me. Zeke alone was with me, so much more intimately than ever before.

"H-how..." I started.

"Don't worry about it. We'll talk it all out later. For now, I just... I want you so bad, Zeke." He leaned in, and though I'd just been making out with the otters, I hesitated. I licked over my chops, not wanting to be dry for him. Delicately, like it was my very first kiss, I approached. We tilted slowly in opposite directions, then our muzzles meshed and my paws went up around him, holding him close in a way I never thought I would.

His tongue tentatively probed at mine, and I responded with a little curl. He slid deeper, I tilted, squeezed my jaw around his, worked my lips. I wanted this, and I wanted him to know it. Our hips rocked together as we explored, twisted, moaned into each others' muzzles. He made this so easy, so right. _Everything _was right with the world for just this moment; heat settled in my head, sparks lit in my heart, and I... Didn't quite understand what I was feeling. I wanted him, but even _more _than that.

We both jumped as we felt a pair of otters' paws on our shafts. "Just lubing you up!" they called, smearing something thick and hot onto our cocks, slickening our fervent frotting even more. Their paws trailed back along our balls, somehow having plenty of the goo to work through even our fur, and I shivered as it touched my tailhole, tingling and warming in a way that felt like it helped me relax. From the look in his eyes, Hunter was getting the same treatment.

"Ready for anything. Who knows, you guys might want to swap," Collin offered.

"Ooh I hope they do," DJ murmured.

Our maws separated, tongues bid goodbye for now, and I couldn't stand it anymore. We were both panting; we both wanted this. "Please..." I started, but I couldn't squeeze out any more words. He didn't need me to, sliding his cock up against my hole; fuck, when did my little brother get so... Hung.

Some kind of barrier had been breached by the otters' ritual, and finally, finally he started to press in, the roo's smooth taper a massive boon when it came to massive shafts. I moaned aloud as he worked several inches in, the otters' lube providing such a slick, warm, smooth experience as Hunter worked himself into me.

I reached up to grasp at the headboard, my muzzle was agape, my eyes were rolled. I was sure I looked like the stereotypical bottom-slut in that moment, and I loved it. Hunter was staring at me with such lust, his ears cocked forward in a predatory tone and fuck he was hot like that. A real breeder boomer, head of the mob, and I was lucky enough to be his mate for the night.

Six inches in he nudged my prostate and I had to fight hard to keep from clenching, it felt so good. I'd gotten it hit a good few times already, but none could compare to Hunter's shockwaves of pleasure, the rushes of tingling energy that flooded me, the shots of pre I fired in between us. He looked like he felt the same way, eyes glazing over, starting to press in harder.

I was surprised that for my first cock of the night, I didn't even feel like I'd needed to warm up. My tail was taking him perfectly, form-fitting to my brother's shaft, even as eight, twelve, fourteen inches of him reached deep into my gut. The way he thickened towards the base was exquisite, giving me the perfect stretch without being too much.

The otters had made their way back up on either side of us and I felt the heat in me burn brighter, like the two of them were stoking the fires in both of us, totemic anchors for our profane desires. It had already been hard to focus with my brother plowing me, but now I was feral, only a vessel for my need and for Hunter's cock.

Attendants to our ritual, they simply sat back and worshiped their own pillars, but even that was a show. Collin was working beneath his knot with one paw and rolling his balls with the other, a gratuitous amount of musky fluid cascading down his shaft. DJ was hugging his cock to eagerly lick at himself, working his tongue in and around the spade-headed shaft like it was a new and exciting toy.

Finally Hunter hilted me and I squeezed my tail around his; I wanted to stay like this, I wanted him to rail me, I wanted to make out, I wanted the ottercocks, I wanted everything and I couldn't think enough to decide. But Hunter was the one in charge, staying flat to my rear for only a moment before he started to slide out.

He got a good eight inches out and then ggrruffed, gripping at my sides and pressing himself back in. Fuck if I didn't see a flash of heaven itself_ as he nailed my prostate with a curl of his hips._ Hunter built up a thrusting pace and I did my best to work with him, coax him deeper, faster, more!

He grinned, then tipped his muzzle to my left and said, "Suck him." I needed no further encouragement to finally offer my tongue to the belly of that beast, running up along its two-foot length, wrapping its girth with my paws, tracing the trough between the hard flesh above and the softer channel beneath as I felt him pulsing, throbbing, squeaking in delight while his muzzle overflowed with heated precum, splattering down to meet my muzzle and paint my chest.

"I've had my eye on this one too," Hunter said. He pressed his muzzle against Collin's, vigorously tangling tongues as he stroked the otter's knotted fuckrod which promptly contributed another dousing of delicious slick preseed all over me.

The pure debauchery only made the taboo hotter, made _breaking _it stronger, like we were all giving the world and its customs a collective 'fuck you'. In this room, younger brothers pinning their elders down and rutting them was to be celebrated; these two miracles of size and rivers of cum were a boon. "Normal" meant nothing in the halls of Elysium.

The otters were the first to blow. I'd brought a paw up under DJ's tackle to knead at his thick taint, milking at all the muscles needed to support such an icon of otterhood. He was squirming, moaning, chirping and petting my ears, the air practically crackled as he rose to a fever pitch.

Hunter's muzzle was tangled with Collin's and in some bizarre choreography Collin hit his peak at the same time, sharply moaning into Hunter's maw while the crackle ascended to a fervent boil of energy, twin gouts of thick seed clashing in a nova of cum between all of us, coating us all in a heated blessing of lust.

And gods did they blow, a thick spplattt resounding into the room as the otters coated each others cocks, each others muzzles, the back of Hunter's head, absolutely lacquered my body with what felt like a liter of otterspunk. And then again, on their second shot, dual yowls of bliss. And again. I frantically licked and gulped at their cum, needing as much of it as I could handle, rutting back into Hunter as he slammed into me, driven even harder by our profane communion.

I bounced back and forth between the two divine pillars, lavishing them with my tongue, worshiping with my paws, ecstatic in the wildfire of need feeding back and forth between us all.

Hunter was still kissing Collin, bobbing his head against the otter's, but I was far from feeling neglected. His cock swelled and stretched me, gods he felt so big and his balls felt so dense, thumping against mine with each stroke forwards, trailing along my tailfur with each pull back.

My studly little bro hilted and I felt it in the throb of his cock, the curl of his claws, he was next. I worked on him, squeezing as much as I could, practically milking him. He came, I came, we yowled in shared bliss and he mashed his muzzle against mine.

So much heat filled me, anointed me, so much more than I knew a reasonable roo could put out pumped deep into me. Though of course Hunter was no reasonable roo any longer, he seemed barely there, not that I was any better. I panted, I squeezed, I shot up against his abs and my chest, we burned together with otter cum as our gasoline. The cock was the real head now, making all the decisions as we kept erratically rutting, kept firing.

And yet I knew, none of us were even _close _to done. The otters hadn't even stopped their jubilant gushing yet, and all of us were starting to look more white than brown. I swam in the seas of seed, more at home than I'd been in my entire life.

Collin drew my attention like a hook in my brain. I followed the line, and gaped like a joey at a birthday present. Now it made sense why Hunter had been kissing him so oddly, the bulges that I thought were writhing tongue were instead something else. His jaw was open, wedged by a very curious sight: a cock, just like his lower one but smaller. Well... I wasn't sure of the average phallic-tongue size, but he seemed remarkable even in that department, a good twelve inches of canid cock out in place of a tongue, knot bulging his cheeks. Fuck even his tongue might beat me if you counted the part in his maw.

Something bounced off a broken part of me. I had the odd impression that in another circumstance I would have felt something else, but all I felt was need. Collin bounced his eyebrows at me and I leaned in, gladly accepting that unusually-placed shaft, working my paws along the even bigger one below.

It dove right into my muzzle, filled me out so comfortably, met my tongue with the curiously exciting mixed sensations of a makeout and a blowjob. I found that he could curl it just a little against its turgid insistence, somehow that made it even hotter. We worked lips together, bobbed our heads; I groaned and squirmed and clenched on Hunter, who rewarded me with what felt like another stray shot of seed.

Somehow Hunter was sucking off DJ, stretching his muzzle around the imposingly thick shaft and working far more of it down his throat than should have been possible. I glanced mid-kiss, and my brain shrugged. Seemed plausible to me?

A shot hit the back of my maw and I was brought to sudden attention: cum. More cum. I gulped, holding onto Collin and bringing him closer, even managing to work my lips around his knot and getting some very pleased squeaks in return.

Woof. That hit like a triple-shot of tequila. I felt distinctly like I was gulping a lot, but I didn't know how many times I'd swallowed. I just knew I wanted everything, needed to milk the otter dry, needed Hunter to breed me any way he could. Slowly, rational chains of thought stopped connecting and the need took forefront command.

Things got very hard to put together after that. Fragments swam around in my awareness of the four of us connecting, disconnecting, connecting again. Sharing bits of ourselves with each other, eating from each others' trees and seeding them at the same time in a neverending cycle.

I remembered DJ fucking me, plowing my hole open farther than I ever thought I could stretch, while I sucked on Collin's main shaft, while Hunter fucked him. Cocktongue painting my belly white.

Collin and DJ kissing around my shaft, tongue-frotting, DJ discovering his own new phallic tongue and drunkenly squealing in delight. I remembered wondering if I could have one too, though I didn't want to miss out on the opportunity to suck. Maybe Hunter could have one, he'd look even studlier.

Collin stretching out DJ's maw while I deep-throated him and Hunter fucked him from behind. There was no way their cocks weren't meeting in the middle, and I could viscerally feel how much they all _loved _it.

Most of all I remembered Hunter breeding me so many times. He fucked my muzzle while one of the otters rammed me from behind, fucked me on my back, on my front, somehow constantly hard and ready, invigorated by the overflowing fountains of virility swimming between us. I remembered him ferally whispering "fuck, fuck, breed you, Zeke" in my ear, his enormous cock reaching all the way into my very full belly to distend its surface with every thrust.

I remembered both of the otters cumming against my hole while Hunter fucked, thrust, rutted and seeded me, reaching deep to fulfill my every need of being a well-used roo. He looked so handsome on top of me, so perfect, and that's when I felt my heart decide: I wanted to be with him. Not just as fuck buddies, but as something more. What that was... We'd have to work that out. But I figured the way he glowed, the way his smoldering eyes fixed on me, he felt that way too.

Eventually the ritual tapered to a natural end. Our shots slowed, even the otters were eventually tapped out and we lounged together in our infinite hedonistic afterglow.

The haze broke for just a moment. A quiet moment without any hints of music leaking through the door. Collin leaning against me and gently stroking over my rounded belly. DJ was slumped back against Hunter's collapsed form, all three of their cocks still sluggishly leaking seed onto the caked sheets.

Massaging, small paws making soft dents, Collin soothed me towards sleep. Despite the pressure, it was quite pleasant. Collin was staring at my belly so full of heated seed, looking through _it. He gave a very meaningful look towards DJ and then at my falling eyelids. It was hard to tell around his cocktongue, but his ears said _concerned. I wondered why, just before my body finally gave in to sleep.

Six small otters congregated at the end of a very eventful evening, grouped in the same unused back room where they'd started the night six hours earlier.

Vest sat against a wall, blissfully remembering his meal while stroking himself.

Fishnet laid on the bed with Collar as they slowly, languidly ground their shafts together.

Leather tugged off his gloves, working his digits and grumbling internally about how the gloves made his joints feel weird. His cock stood at attention, even ignored as it was.

DJ was napping at the foot of the bed, curled up like a feral. He wasn't tired, but the others had suggested he take a nap anyway.

Sleeve — a blindfolded otter wearing a harness with a handle on the back like a service dog — sat slumped against the bed. He single-mindedly worked his tongue along his equine cock, a thick monument to pure id taller than all the others, while his paws roamed along his excessively large doubled-up set of balls. He couldn't even reach his cockhead, and that level of pure hedonism was why he spent the whole night in the glory holes.

The door opened, a normal-sized gray-furred otter coming in. Well he was supposed to be gray anyway, not that you could see it under the layers of spunk.

"Good work guys," the tall one said.

"Alright we're not calling you 'the tall one'," Leather cut in before any more post-feast speeches could be made. "It wouldn't make sense anyway, Asrael's much taller than you." And thus the tall one was temporarily dubbed Marlin, since that name's original owner wasn't using it anyway.

"Well, I have something to talk to Leather about, but before I do... Anyone have anything important to say?" Marlin addressed the conglomeration of cocks.

Collar fidgeted. "Yeah uh... Did you all feel what I did? Might have been screwed up with DJ there, I dunno."

They all shook their heads.

Collar bluntly broke the news, "That roo's pregnant."

"Fuck, again?" was the general sentiment in the room.

"How did we let this happen?" Marlin sighed, the de facto leader given that he'd been coordinating them all night.

Collar shrugged and pointed at the sleeping DJ. "Think something about what you did with him kinda let our inhibitions slip."

"Ehh, well that makes sense. He was having a fucking blast, cluttering all of us up with it," Vest said. He'd been close for the imposter's whole set, draining a ferret dry.

"We'll have to keep an eye on them. Maybe spread a little misinformation about how they adopted." The group nodded.

"We coouuullld—" Leather started, but Marlin flatly cut him off.

"No. We are not letting them remember that two brothers made a joey together." Several shafts spurted at the thought, one at the memory.

"Okay okay but they're going to get a gene test eventually. They'll be so close it's suspicious. You know that," Leather continued.

Marlin slapped a borrowed paw against his borrowed muzzle in exasperation. "You're right. Fuck."

"We made a few friends tonight. What's two more?" Fishnet asked.

"Okay well for one, you went a bit overboard with your guy."

"Spencer," Fishnet offered.

"I know his— You _know his name, so _I know his name!" Marlin wasn't sure why this had to be difficult, though Fishnet saw it differently.

"We've been pretty hungry lately! Maybe another growth spurt coming up? I figured we needed some more sustainable snacks and he's juicy."

They all murmured, concerned about the implication.

"Speaking of, you gonna take care of your little protégé, DJ?" Collar said, purposefully using the wrong name.

"How do you even remember which accents the word protege has?" Marlin griped uselessly. He touched the sleeping DJ and they folded interthrough themselves, seamlessly translating back into place in just a few seconds, just like the first time. A normal-sized cum-caked otter slept curled up on the bed, while a short, stiff-cocked otter now stood. The remnants of the otters' influence in him would eat up all that residual seed and make sure the changes stuck. Even Marlin's backpack and clothes sat on the floor next to him, having survived their time in otterspace.

One more thing to take care of. DJ took Marlin's phone and unlocked it with 6347, his high school locker combination. Pretty decent PIN all things considered. Marlin would surely have some questions about his newly enhanced anatomy, so he added himself as a contact.

The matter settled, DJ returned to where he'd been standing. Nothing else seemed pressing to any of them, so DJ looked to Leather.

"So Leather—"

They then proceeded to have a conversation that's already been heard.

"And come on, you want me to tell him my name is 'Leather'? Get real."

"Just do what I do," Fishnet cut in, sitting up to give a dramatically flirtatious expression to an unseen conversation partner, "Call me Fishnet, cutie." The act broke. "Act like it's a nickname, it's mysterious. Drives 'em crazy."

Leather considered this, and then leaned intimidatingly in towards nobody, "Call me 'Leather'. It's all you'll be able to think of when I'm done with you."

Vest held out a paw with a so-so gesture.

"Eh I'll think about it. Maybe I'll just get some studs on this jacket and call myself Spike."

"You could try 'Monarch'," Collar suggested from the comfort of the bed.

"Oooh there we go!"

"Alright well we can workshop this stuff later," DJ held up his paws, "Asrael needs to get home." They agreed.

Simultaneously, all but Sleeve got up and moved towards the center of the room. Sleeve stood tall from where he sat, the pillar of flesh they all joined, bodies simply splashing into one another in a disturbing conflagration of eyes and teeth and crackling emerald energy.

Or at least, it would have been disturbing if Marlin was awake to see it.

For the otters, it was a symphony. The many pieces, the movements of their composition, curled and spiralled into each other, a fugue in ever-repeating rhyme with itself, composing more of itself as it went along and choosing to settle into a familiar motif: a big otter stood where once six were, seven foot four and with a greater shock of fiery hair than any of his components had borne.

And yet, as always, he let some little notes of his true symphony shine, accidentals to contrast the tune. His pectorals were doubled up, capitalizing on an otter's tendency to have a lengthy torso by sporting a second pair of arms. Below, a heavy quad-set of balls hung under a double-stack of thick and lengthy anthropoid shafts, currently standing at pleasantly throbbing erections with foreskins slid back. There wasn't much he could do to conceal things of those size, and he was rarely inclined to try.

His fur swam with foreign matter, leather and cloth dissolved to be rewoven, settling back around him in his typical fashion: a leather bandolier underneath a red jacket, self-sewn for more arms than usual. He plucked a pair of tinted glasses from a chest pocket and slipped them atop his snout.

Asrael's maw opened in a titanic yawn and he stretched, paws grabbing each other to reach one pair up and the other back, working out all his shoulders. His muzzle didn't close all the way when he relaxed, his familiar cocktongue jutting eagerly out between his fangs with the knot visible in his cheeks. He'd get it settled down by the time he was in public. Or, maybe not. Apparently he was feeling a bit risky tonight.

Despite some of the sloppiness, he congratulated himselves on a job well done. There were many conversations with newly enhanced animals to have, but for now it was time to get home and take a well-earned post-feast snooze.

***

Epilogue Ferret

After he left (and gods did I stare as he went, the black pendulum of his shaft swaying to peek at me on either side), I squished myself back into my pants and bolted. It was late and I knew I wasn't going to last long on this second wind.

I hopped from one paw to the other, trying to settle whatever bind had gotten into my jeans as I awkwardly waddled out of Elysium. Something felt very wrong down there, and I wished I'd taken a moment to sort myself out before I'd jammed into my pants. My groin felt unbearably tight and hot.

In some strange ways the pressure felt kind of... good? In the same way one would get phantom sensations of being on a boat long after they'd left, I felt as if ephemeral otter paws were stroking at my balls, coaxing them to produce, to refill, to _gush _into that heavenly maw.

More like infernal. This couldn't be natural... The pressure was building, the fabric of my pants binding up hard, especially as my sheath started to swell from all the sensation down there.

I couldn't walk like this. At this rate I was just going to get hard, and with these gods-forsaken rough pants that I was going to throw in the trash the moment I got home, I couldn't stand to have my dick unsheathed. Certainly couldn't just have it out and waving as I sauntered down the sidewalk either, I didn't have the otter's confidence.

I sighed and stood still. The phantom sensations did not cease. My sheath throbbed, and I yowled aloud in frustration. Thankfully there weren't many animals around to hear me.

In resignation, I opened the stupid Carij app and ordered a pickup. I couldn't remember the last time I'd used it, but at least I'd forgotten to delete it so I didn't have to wrestle with downloading it again.

A middle-aged Scottish Terrier picked me up and I flopped into the passenger seat, sighing in relief.

"Late night clubbing?" he asked, kindly. I really hoped I didn't smell like sex, but after what I'd gone through it was probably unavoidable.

"Er... Yeah. Glad to get off my paws." My cock insisted on itself, my bulge felt like it could be seen from space. I wished I had a hoodie I could take off or something to cover my lap, but I had to settle for not-at-all-intentionally placing my paws in strategic positions.

He'd seen it anyway. I cursed internally. I throbbed externally, and cursed again.

"To be cliché for a moment, don't worry about it. I remember when I was your age. It's nothing I haven't seen before," he chuckled.

We came to a stoplight, and he shifted in his seat. Was it my imagination, or did one of his paws migrate to adjust himself? Throb. Even being off my paws, the pressure was getting unbearable and the tent was getting unbelievable.

Why did I have to be so sensitive?! Why did I have to wear such gods-damned tight rough pants?! I swore and bit my lip.

"You alright there?"

"N-no... It hurts," I squeaked out before I could stop myself.

The whites of his eyes stood stark from the dusty gray of his face fur, glancing back and forth between the road and my imposing bulge. "... I don't have a camera in here, if you need to fix something," he suggested casually.

The grace of a stranger was water in the desert. I trembled as I undid my pants— and yelped! My spring-loaded erection shot up to full mast in front of me, slapping a line of slick pre onto this poor man's dash.

Sixteen inches of deep-purple tapered ferretcock rose above white-furred mounds that I barely recognized as balls for how just... jaw-droppingly huge they were. With the pressure on them relieved, they almost seemed... No they were... they were expanding, slowly. Filling back up with cum.

The light turned green, but we were both stuck. The car behind us honked.

A thick dollop of precum trailed its way down my startlingly dark erection. Was... Was this healthy? Was I necrotic or something from too much suction? It... felt fine... In fact it felt better than ever, practically buzzing in the cool air of the car's AC, begging for a muzzle to take care of it. Begging to relieve the bounty of these balls that were threatening to overflow my lap.

"Damn, kid." I finally met the terrier's eyes, painted with awe and confusion... And more than a little lust. His pants tented harder as he licked at his chops.

It seemed like my night wasn't quite over yet.

***

Epilogue Horse

"You've been wearing condoms, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I don't see the problem." He grinned, being a shit. Of course he knew the problem.

I snorted, bucking against his insistent grip and firing a particularly thick shot of cum. He took it with not a single drop spilled.

The otter gave me a brief look and I huffed, trying to slow my thrusts and not grip the table so hard. He'd chosen a brunch place with one of those separated dining rooms, and settled us the most secluded booth. This wasn't the first time he'd fucked around at the table, apparently.

He folded one pair of his paws together and rested his muzzle atop them. It was still bizarre that the real him was a couple inches taller than me, a horse! Another shot emptied into him, but his smarmy grin didn't flinch.

"The problem—" I punctuated with a vigorous thrust, and he clenched in playful reply, "—is that it doesn't. Stop. It never stops. I've already had to buy a size up on my pants just to get my _balls _in them now, and I always have to wear a hoodie or something to conceal my cock up along my chest. I can't be stopping every thirty minutes to drain a condom. Does that seem sustainable to you?"

"Mmm, I dunno. Seems pretty manageable to me Spencer," he churred self-assuredly. My ears flattened and blushed. Of course he would find that manageable, when he hauled around so much more... Fucker.

My breath caught as I came, flaring in him. The lead up had been practically nonexistent, yet another feature I'd had to get used to since he'd taken me back in the club. I huffed and clasped my hands around my snout to keep myself from whinnying.

The waitress arrived and I jolted upright, trying to force my ears back to normal. She set a plate in front of each of us, probably used to interrupting weird conversations. If she knew what was going on under this table though, she'd have to redefine weird. Asrael just watched me ride out my orgasm, clenching teasingly to milk me further as he dug his fork into some over-medium eggs.

... Fuck I hadn't stopped cumming the whole time she was here. That was frustratingly hot, and I knew he could feel it.

"Fucker," I swore at him under my breath.

"You love it," he chided.

I hated that I did. This freak of an otter, plunging me into a lifestyle of nonstop hedonism...

I lowered a hand to squeeze at his black cockhead where it emerged into my lap, from all the way across the booth. It pulsed up to meet my hand and his other cock clenched, wrapped around my shaft and conveniently handling the endless broken-spigot of cum I'd become. He was so big even his cock could take me like it was nothing.

I shuddered and whined as I came again.

***

Epilogue Fennec

Chet was surprised to see me so open, he said. I told him there was nothing new, I was just being myself for once.

He took a bit to consider my proposal. It wasn't a small ask, considering that we'd have to get safe sex supplies, badges... and maybe some more security personnel. Though I told him we could at least do it on a trial basis without the extra people. The community would be incentivized to manage itself.

Then I sucked him off, savoring his earthy hyena musk and loving the way he stroked along my sensitive ears while I did the deed. He said he'd always wanted to do this. I said I knew. I'd just been denying myself the pleasure this whole time.

There were plenty of changes over the next weeks. I was careful to watch the crowds, shepherd them around, even give pointers to some of the inexperienced partiers. And I was right: the community took care of itself. Whenever someone stepped out of line, there was always an otter who would step up to help keep the peace.

***

Epilogue Otter

Maybe it was fate. I woke up somewhere new, feeling like someone new. Again. But in a better and less confusing way this time.

I'd had a significant amount of trouble putting my clothes on, which were just strewn about the floor with all my other things. I really wanted to check why, but I really did not want to get walked in on while I was checking.

I snuck out the back door. Someone saw me, but nobody stopped me. Maybe early-morning leavers weren't uncommon for Elysium. Thankfully I was only a few blocks away on campus.

I felt... different. Lighter. And taller, though I was pretty sure that was because I wasn't slouching to avoid being seen anymore. At the same time I felt significantly heavier in the crotch area, having to walk a little differently to keep from squishing myself.

It wasn't until I finally got back to my dorm that I tossed my backpack down and stripped. The full-length mirror in our common area served me well. Somehow... I was hot. Like really hot. I'd put on a significant amount of muscle, all of it a swimmer's build, and the bulge in my briefs was... Intimidating, even to me. Holy shit, my tip was peeking out at my knee.

"Hey, Marlin? You didn't come back last night, you doin' alright?" I heard my roommate call from the other room. Part of me wanted to flinch, but the shockwave passed without incident.

"Yeah," I called back. If that reaction was missing... Then what would happen if I just... Pulled my briefs down?

"Cool. I was thinking of having a friend over tonight though."

I slipped my underwear down and felt weight flop out and down, throwing my balance off. This thing... My cock... was huge. My balls were huge, I'd rival a horse! How big did it get when it was hard...?

"We were gonna do some games and uh—" The lion stepped into the common room, staring at me with a protein bar in hand.

His stare didn't burn any holes into me, didn't make me want to crumple into a little paper ball and get thrown in the trash. I looked back, and his shock, his confusion, his lust felt good.

"I didn't know you were into guys," I said.

He stuttered for a moment before he said, quieter than I'd ever heard a lion mewl, "I... didn't know I was either. I think maybe... I'm gonna push game night back a day."

I smirked at him, already knowing what I wanted to say, "Depends on what kind of games your friend likes to play."

***

Epilogue Roos

The knock we were expecting finally came at the door. Zeke stood up from where he'd been lounging back on my lap, setting his pizza plate down and pausing the video we'd been watching. His tailtip twitched in a way that I knew was a bit antsy, and he glanced back at me.

I nodded reassuringly. Our dynamic had flipped since that night at Elysium, but somehow that had just made everything easier for the both of us.

Zeke opened his apartment door, and blinked in surprise. It was one thing to see a picture, and another to see the otter in the flesh. A screwed up sense of deja vu hit me, as if I'd seen him in a dream. For sure there were some features I recognized, but seeing them all on someone even taller than a roo was a bit of a feat.

Asrael came in, the back of his mohawk brushing at the eight-foot doorframe. "Hey Zeke. Nice place."

He came a few paces in and I gulped, my sheath bulging hard; he wasn't wearing anything on his lower half. Not that he even could, with low-hangers like that, fuck. Though I couldn't help my head tilting, wondering why he looked so different down there compared to the small versions.

Asrael waved an upper paw towards me, dark webbing framing his digits. "Hey Hunter." I returned the wave, a little unsure how to greet him. In some ways I barely knew him, but at the same time I trusted him more than most. What we'd gone through that night bound us together like we'd been in the trenches, even if some parts of the relationship had ended up a little stilted. There was a lot we didn't know about him, didn't help that we'd started knowing him as two half-size otters but here he was as one. He'd explained the whole thing, I would get over it eventually, but it was hard. He probably knew it was hard.

Zeke was eyeing him hungrily, though that didn't surprise me. This was the hornball that needed to blow even more often than I did.

Asrael grinned at him. "We should probably chat first, then we'll see how you're feeling after. Wish it was all good news, but I've got kind of a doozy."

I pulled my footpaws back as Zeke sat down on the couch. Asrael chose a nearby chair which he was probably grateful was made for roo tails, one pair of paws folded in his lap while the other pair rested on the chair arms. His distracting dicks piled up between his legs, buoyed by the incredible volume of balls back there. It was hard not to let my mind wander, especially with some of the things he'd told us...

"Alright. So I didn't make it a secret that there's some things I haven't told you about that night. I needed see how... Serious you guys were about each other. I mean I'm glad I helped crack that nut, but I had to make sure."

I nodded, "We're pretty serious." Zeke nodded too.

The otter smiled. "I can tell, and that's wonderful." Hints of the same sensations from that night hit me; broken taboos, a big 'fuck you' to the world. The world sure wasn't going to be shy about saying 'fuck you' back. Here in this room and with this company at least, I could enjoy our freedom.

"So... You just wanted to make sure you hadn't matchmade us wrong?" Zeke asked. Asrael's eyes shifted, his digits tapped together.

"Mm, there's something else. This is going to be very weird."

"Weirder than what happened at Elysium?" I smirked, trying to lighten the mood. It worked a little, and Asrael snorted.

"Let's say it'll change your lifestyle a fair bit." He brought up his upper set of paws, working the digits together, curling knuckles against webs and pulling gently.

After a brief silence, which I inferred was probably for our preparation and not because he was particularly shy about saying whatever this was, he finally let us have it.

"Zeke, you're pregnant."

A very uncomfortable pause stretched between us.

Zeke chuckled nervously. "Uh. Yeah. Good one! Hehe. That's..." Whatever refutation he had in mind failed, seeing Asrael's unmoving expression and pursed lips.

My older brother looked at me, his ears splayed wide. I looked back and forth between them, bewildered.

"... You're serious, aren't you?" It seemed unthinkable, but everything about my life had become unthinkable lately.

"Mmyep." He slowly nodded, his tail thumped against the carpet once, twice. That was it. Another long pause before I could muster anything at all.

"... How?"

"Well. Everyone I played with that night came away changed in some way or another though."

"Dude, are you saying I've got like... Girl parts?"

I scoffed and couldn't help but laugh at his completely stupid way of putting that. "You're such a meathead, I swear."

"What?? I gotta know!"

Asrael was chuckling too, which relieved some of my tension. "No, you've got a temporary womb, attached to your anal passage. Once you give birth, it'll go away. It's all made of, er, me. And that's how this happened in the first place, all of my cum combined with Hunter's." He gestured at me and I blinked.

"So... Does this happen a lot?"

"No, normally I don't let it, but there were some special circumstances that night..."

He explained, in what seemed to be very sanitized terms, who exactly "DJ" had been that night and how that had messed up his "dynamic". It took us a bit to wrap our heads around it.

"... But anyway. I can tell you that if you want to keep him, your little guy's going to be totally fine. Probably unusually healthy, if anything. And he'll definitely be male."

"If we want to keep..." I looked to Zeke and he met my gaze. "Do we?"

"I... Dunno. This is kind of a lot. I'd figured I'd never have kids since I'm gay and all." He looked down at his lap, then at his belly, instinctively putting a paw over it though there wasn't anything to see yet.

"Well, you could have adopted. Conveniently, that's your best cover story too, since he won't look exactly like you two. He'll inherit some things from me, since... In some ways, he's my kid too."

"... Wwwha, what do you mean?" I stuttered in disbelief. Mind-bender after mind-bender, at this point he could have told me time travel was involved and I would have believed him.

"Well, it's possible to make a child from two males with some careful genetic editing, and that's effectively what I did. I glued your genes together, synthesized the whole fertilization process and provided the womb. I mean I make it sound intentional, but it's just what happened. The genes are yours, but the..." Words failed him again and he gestured, one wrist rolling while another was held out, two others grasped as if trying to manually find the right terms.

"The substrate of how he exists, the glue binding him here, is my flesh. He'll appear to be a normal animal, no medical examination could ever find a difference, but the... The stuff that lets me do the things I do, he'll have a little of that too."

He let that hang a moment, looking unsure if he'd expressed himself right. "That said. It's entirely your decision to keep him or not."

Zeke glanced up at the otter, then back to his belly. He was quiet, like he thought he'd get in trouble as he started, "... Isn't it like... Murder or something, if we—"

"No," the otter cut in flatly. "Won't answer that question for a normal animal, but I know for sure it's not with me."

My brain caught on the purposeful choice of won't instead of can't, and I wasn't sure how he could even know in the first place, but that was a barrel of questions I probably didn't want the answers to. Just had to accept it as gospel.

"... Fuck," I said. There wasn't much else _to _be said.

For his part, Zeke looked surprisingly okay with this. His ears were fully askew like someone had slapped an old-fashioned TV antenna, but something about how he was looking down at himself seemed more philosophical than I expected.

He looked back up at Asrael. "... If it's your kid too, don't you get a vote?"

The otter smiled at the sentiment, but I heard his tail tap at the carpet with a bit of nerves. "Yeah, but I'm ceding it to you two. You're the couple, I'm just the one who just foisted this on you, mistake or not."

"No, but... I don't think we can do this alone, given... Y'know. So what do you actually want? You know more about what's going on than... Fuck, maybe anyone. Right? So if you're going to be his third dad or whatever, that's important to me."

He looked surprised, and I watched his face as he thought it over. The otter didn't seem like he was planning on just one-night-standing us and splitting, he'd followed up this far after all, but I couldn't quite parse what he was feeling.

"This hasn't happened before, so... Being honest, I'd thought I'd just do what I could to get you guys settled, and then only pop in if you needed me for the weird stuff. I didn't want to just insert myself into your lives or something; you two are the ones in love here." He went back to working his knuckles and webs together.

I sat up better, angling closer to the otter to try to read him better. It seemed almost like... He was afraid of being somewhere he wasn't wanted. That was the contrast I could never square in how he acted compared to the shameless half-otters we'd known. But that... That was the problem, wasn't it? We'd all had that release at Elysium, but now the context was different; now here we were, trying to piece together the consequences into 'real life'. I realized it had to be an even worse dissonance for him than I could fathom. Here he wasn't the big-dicked sex object for a night of fun. He had to live with himself, be himself every day, and carry on despite the world attempting to smother him as it had done to us.

It was strange to be on the other side of this motivational speech, but he'd planted a seed in more ways than one. "I think... I get that you feel like you intruded. And yeah, maybe you did. But you brought us together, helped us feel what we really felt for each other. You freed us from that pressure, and told us that it didn't matter what other people thought, we should just be our true weird selves. Isn't that why you went to Elysium in the first place, to be yourself for a night?"

He mulled that over for a moment, "... Yeah." His expression was complex, there was probably more to it, but I'd hit on a good portion of it at least.

"So how about this. In our house, you're free to be your weird self." Far too many bizarre situations occurred to me in that moment not to add, "As long as it doesn't make us lose our security deposit."

He snorted, and the pile of emotions he'd been lugging fell away as he laughed aloud, a chirpy-otter undertone with each breath. Either my comedic timing was great or he was quite relieved, going on for a good few seconds just cackling and swaying his tail.

"Ahh, fuck. You might regret saying that. Alright. If I'm voting, then I'm gonna say yeah. I'd love to see your joey grow up and contribute some more weird to the world." He leaned towards us, face lit up with a more genuine grin than I'd seen before.

Zeke smirked at him, "As the weirdest one in the room, you got any name suggestions? At least we don't have to think of 'in case it's a girl', right?"

"Ugh, don't expect 'Uriel' or something, I'm not letting this cub go through high school with an angel's name."

"Wasn't a good time for you, huh?" I shifted sideways on the couch again, long feet propped up on Zeke's lap.

Asrael grimaced, tapping a pair of thumbs together. He looked like he'd forgotten that someone could even ask such a question, "Er... That's a story for another time, I think you've had enough brain bombs for the day."

We shared a laugh, and a pizza, and a good bit of intimate time that evening. It was hard to know where things would go and how hard the world would fight us, but it felt good to know at least that in our little corner, we were free.