No CGI: Office of Permissions 1
Story by Tagenar on SoFurry
{You have arrived in Hollywood. Time to face the bureaucracy.}
No CGI: Office of Permissions 1
by tagenar (https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tagenar | https://tagenar.sofurry.com/)
{You have arrived in Hollywood. Time to face the bureaucracy.}
Your motel is cheap and modest. It’s also within walking distance of Hollywood’s dinosaur district. You’ve already seen a few walking around, and somehow they can tell that you can see them.
As you walk back to your room, sipping your smoothie, you pull out the piece of paper from your pocket. Earlier that day, you found it stuck in the door of Charles’s apartment.
_I changed my mind. I’m going with them._
Was Charles really following them in his car? How? The raptors had told them they don’t follow a set route, or any of the roads, so what good would it do? And how long had he been on the road?
You take a seat on a bench, reading the words over and over, trying to imagine following the pack of raptors on foot. You can barely imagine the dinosaurs themselves making a cross-country run in just one week.
A theropod shadow falls over you. A nose sniffs you indiscreetly. You look up at whoever is blocking the sun.
You are unsure what species he is, only that he is not a raptor or a T-rex or a dilophosaurus. Now that you think about it, those are the only three species you’ve met so far.
This guy seems to have the muzzle and arms of a kangaroo but on the body of a utahraptor. Grey scales. Green splotches. He is still scenting you.
You smile. “Something interesting?”
He stands up straight. You glimpse abs and a pair of meaty pecs between his veiny arms. “You s[m]ell like R.”
You brighten. “You know him?”
He bears his teeth at you. “Everyone knows R. He got so [m]any [p]eo[p]le into Jurassic [P]ark. You can shower as [m]any ti[m]es as you want, hu[m]an, but you still s[m]ell like you’ve had his cock in your ass fifty ti[m]es.”
“That sounds about right. I’m meeting the group. He promised to get me behind the scenes when he can. I’m his personal assistant for the next week. Who are you? And, um, what species are you?”
He swings around and sits sideways on the bench, facing you, casually sniffing your smoothie.
“My s[p]ecies isn’t in the fossil record. We’re called _[b]razisaurus_ [b]ecause they first found us in [b]razil. We’re nu[mb]er four in ta[p]e code. Call [m]e K-T. R and I use the sa[m]e gy[m] while he’s in town.”
“You look like you could rival him.”
“I try.” He ripples the muscles in his arms from wrists to shoulders. “R’s a freak of nature. Wait till you see hi[m] after his run. He loses all the fat and he looks even [b]igger.”
You grin. “I’ll find out soon. I’m ___. Dinosaurs call me Comma.”
He grins back. “How’d you [m]eet R? Where are you fro[m]?”
“Columbus. R dances at a club I frequent. One day I finally saw a ripped dinosaur doing a pole dance.”
He nods. “That’s ha[pp]ening a lot more. Ever since the [m]ovie, more [p]eo[p]le are noticing us.”
“First thing I noticed was how much slit juice he was leaving everywhere.”
He licks his lips. “He’s very [p]roud of that.”
“I’m here to mop up after him, since E will have roles this time.”
“Is he [p]aying you?”
“I assumed his slit juice _was_ my payment.”
He growls in a way that imitates human laughter as he stands up and backs away from the bench.
“It is for E. Good to know you feel the sa[m]e way.”
He winks, squeezes his pecs between his biceps.
“Ni-i-i-ce,” you say.
He steps forward. You take the hint and give his pecs a rub. Nowhere near as big as R’s, but just as meaty. He takes the opportunity to run a claw along the back of your neck.
“Hhhhh, have you seen _Falling Down_?”
You nod.
“I’[m] in the [p]ier scene at the end. R got me in front of Joel Schu[m]acher a while [b]ack. He [p]ut [m]e in the scene just so he’d have so[m]ething interesting to look at on set for a while. No lines, [b]ut I’[m] there.”
“R likes doing favors for his friends.”
K-T clearly likes being felt up in public like this. He’s swaying with your hands, grinning.
“Did R warn you that the co[p]s around here are strict a[b]out kee[p]ing hu[m]ans and dinosaurs a[p]art?”
“He mentioned it, yeah.”
He turns and points while you grope his tricep.
“See that [b]uilding? It’s on the [b]order of the district. Hu[m]ans need [p]er[m]its to enter the dinosaur district, so you’d [b]etter a[pp]ly for one [b]efore you cross the line next ti[m]e. Don’t linger. Co[p]s will sto[p] you and ask for your [p]a[p]ers. You’ll have to file a Form of Association with any dinosaur friends you have.”
“Form of Association?” you echo.
“Yeah, shit is real around here. R will take you when he gets in.”
You shake your head and take another sip. “I’m about to make my ‘association’ official. One step closer to marrying him.”
“I have one with hi[m], too.”
“Will I see you around?”
He backs away from your reach. “Yeah, I’ll [m]eet up with R soon. He’s trying to get me in so[m]ewhere. Get [m]oving before a co[p] sees us. Talking to a dinosaur on the street, fucking a hooker on a corner, co[p]s treat the[m] the sa[m]e. With clu[b]s and guns.”
You rise from the bench. “Thanks for the advice.”
He stands up straighter, running a hand down his abs. You whistle and give him a thumbs up. He turns around, making a show of raising his tail. His cock is peeking from his slit and he has a string of lube connecting his bulging thighs. You reach out and run your hand over it, feeling the tip. You are just about to tell him you’d drink that if you could when he walks away, obviously flexing his thighs for you, deeper into the dinosaur district.
You turn and walk down the street, pausing at that building he pointed to. It’s a few blocks from your hotel, and the sign out front reads: “Office of Permissions”
You had no idea being friends with a dinosaur would involve paperwork, but you aren’t surprised either. Finishing your smoothie, you carry the empty cup back to your hotel room. The pack is due in any day, and you are now ready to scent-mark your door.
*
You have been reluctant to go anywhere, for fear of missing their arrival, but you did get out and visit some local restaurants and shops while you wait.
It’s only a day and a half after you checked in when you hear scratching at your motel room door. Normally such a sound at 2 in the morning would make your heart stop. Instead, your dick gets hard.
Clad only in boxers, you leap off the bed and fly to the door, unhooking the chain and sliding the deadbolt at the same time. You barely recognize the raptors standing on the other side.
“R! And... holy hell.”
R nuzzles your chest, working under your arm and snorting.
Four raptors slide past you and make themselves at home.
“E,” you stammer. “You look amazing.”
The green raptor turns and faces you. His belly is gone, and he has muscle definition on his legs now. “Thanks. It’s a[b]out the only exercise I get.”
R pulls your boxers down and casts them aside. “Does hi[m] a lot of good.”
“X, wow. How did you...?”
The white raptor has put on some muscle. He’s no longer the lanky, half-starved raptor you remember. His ribs aren’t even visible.
“Hunting,” he says. “Living in a [p]ack, taking down [p]rey. It’s how our [b]odies work.”
“And T. Wow. You put some muscle, too.”
She turns and meets your eyes. “It was a good run across the country.”
“Where’s J?”
T: “Long story. He’ll [b]e along later.”
“Charles isn’t here,” you say. “He left me a note saying he changed his mind.”
“I know.”
R has nudged you to the bed and pushed you to your back. The raptor looms over you, showing off his arms and chest and flexing his abs in your face.
“K-T was right. You look even bigger.”
R curls his neck to meet your eyes. “You [m]et K-T?”
“He caught my scent and introduced himself.”
“Oh, I was going to introduce you two. He has nice shoulders. Good o[b]liques. Nice scent [m]ark, [b]y the way. [P]inea[pp]le-straw[b]erry s[m]oothie.”
“You can smell that?”
“Everything co[m]es out in your piss. Or your sweat.”
He lies over you. Your cock is resting in a canyon between four of his abdominal muscles. Your nose is between his pectorals. He’s flexing them for you, squishing your face. He smells like he’s been in the woods all week.
R continues. “You’ve taken so [m]uch of [m]y cu[m] you [p]retty [m]uch sweat [m]y scent now. Sa[m]e for E and X. Everyone can tell you’re [m]y little co[mm]a.”
You have been feeling his shoulders and triceps as he smothers you in dino-muscle. His slit is leaking all over your leg. Your dick is leaking on his abs.
You hear yawning, and the sound of raptors lying all around the floor.
R is licking your ear. “Hhhhhh, I’ve been fucking these two every ti[m]e we sto[pp]ed. I’ve [m]issed s[m]elling my scent co[m]ing from a hu[m]an.”
You open your legs. R adjusts himself and slides in. He doesn’t thrust. He just lies on you, scenting you up and down. You return the gesture feeling his back muscles and shoulders and being a good dinosaur slut.
{If you like what I do, consider buying one of my published books. Links below. Thanks!}
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4539730.James\_L\_Steele