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Stetson reached forward and tugged at Saul's wrist. The slim, older cat was still staring at Matt. He reached one arm forward as if to touch Matt's chest, and Matt moved toward him, feeling the cuffs on the wall chafing against his own wrists. The tabby licked his teeth, and shivered.

"Don't you understand?" Matt's boyfriend was saying. His voice sounded a little slow and slurred, as if he were having trouble forming the words. "His scent, it's pheromonal. It's making you want sex with him."

Saul looked around to the rabbit, his brow furrowing in apparent confusion. "Honey, it's not the smell that's making me want him. I mean, just look at him! When would I ever have a chance with a guy like that?"

Stetson inhaled deeply. "Yeah," he said slowly, stepping forward, and then shook his head. "I mean, think about it! If he grows every time we do anything with him, he won't be a guy like that for long." He tugged at Saul's wrist again. "Come on, let's get out of here!"

Matt listened to this conversation distantly. It was hard for him to focus. Urgent, desperate need throbbed between his legs. His cock ached with steely heat. Small details transfixed his attention: the curl of Saul's pink, lithe tongue at the corner of his mouth; his slender waist hidden inside his button-down shirt, but revealed in the way he turned; the worshipful, hungry look in his eyes. He shifted his gaze to Stetson when the rabbit spoke, and his lust seemed to magnify. He was so incredibly lucky to have him as a boyfriend. The rabbit was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, with a heavy, perfectly lined build, a round, muscular rump, a huge sheath that housed a cock even weightier and larger than Matt's own, and white fur that was whisper-soft, that would feel so wonderful gliding lightly against his aching cock as he slid it slowly down his bunny's back, holding him down, before driving it hard into that tight, hot hole.... He shuddered, realizing suddenly that he hadn't been paying attention, that he had no idea what they were saying now. His drowsiness from before was now beginning to overwhelm his lust. His stomach still felt full from the chicken, but not bloated like before, and digesting it was making him increasingly sleepy.

The cat said something about muscles, looked back at him and shuddered. He looked back at the tabby, wondering what he'd feel like inside, wondering if his new arms would be able to lift that cat up and hold him while he sunk his cock deep, standing upright. But no, he definitely wasn't that strong. Still, the thought made his cock flex again, really hard this time. A silvery arc of pre sailed out from it toward Saul and struck him square in the whiskered muzzle. Matt groaned, hearing his unfamiliar voice resonate deep in the basement. Saul gaped, his nostrils flaring as he tried repeatedly to catch his breath, and then he dropped to his knees. He reached forward as if to crawl toward Matt, but the Stetson suddenly crouched down and put his arms around Saul's waist, tugging him back.

"No," the cat pleaded, reaching out toward Matt. "No, I need him! And he needs me! He needs this! Just look at him! He needs relief."

Stetson began dragging Saul backward. The cat struggled, kicking his legs, squirming, trying to get free. "I know," the rabbit said. "I want to, too. So badly. But we can't risk it." He reached the stairs, and tried to drag Saul upward. Matt could tell it wasn't easy for him, but he was managing. He watched his boyfriend fight his desires and drag the cat slowly up the stairs, just to protect him, and through the lust and drowsiness, he felt love swell inside his chest. He knew then that Stetson would do anything for him. And that made him want the rabbit all the more badly. How strange it was that he had ever been uninterested in sex with Stetson. It occurred to him that it wasn't only now that Stetson loved him enough not to have sex with him. It had always been that way.

Halfway up the stairs, Saul stopped struggling. "All right," he said. "I'm all right. Jesus, I don't know what came over me, Stets. I just... it compelled me, you understand?"

Stetson still held on. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Saul nodded, standing still. "It's okay, you can let go. I promise. I see what you mean now. That boy of yours is dangerous!"

The rabbit looked down to Matt. "I'm sorry about this, hon. But I guess you can see now why we have to do it. I'll check on you later, okay?"

Matt nodded. "Okay."

"I love you," Stetson said, and then he pushed Saul through the door and exited, closing it behind him.

Matt stood there, letting his arms hang slack in the manacles now, feeling the cuffs bite into his wrists. The air smelled of him, rich and masculine, and his erection was not flagging, but he did feel incredibly sleepy. His eyes lidded heavily. How could he ever sleep in these chains? Stetson had said they'd keep him there for twenty-four hours. Maybe when they came back he could ask them to give him a little slack, enough so that he could lie on the floor with maybe a pillow. He leaned back against the wall, shifting his paws forward to help him lean a little better, then let his chin rest against his chest, his eyes closing. In that darkness, with nothing else to focus on, the presence of sex in the room became stronger. He smelled the intense, pungent scent of his musk in the room. He could feel his erection so strongly he could almost see it through his closed lids, glowing red and hot in the darkness, occasionally dripping, beads sliding with aching promise of contact down his underchannel, soaking into the fur of his sac. He could feel it throbbing with his pulse, and even, it seemed, feel the heat radiating from it. But drowsiness continued to cloud his mind, and while he never lost awareness of his perpetual need, it entered the realm of semiconscious with him as he sunk into a half-sleep.

* * *

He awoke to a strange sound, a kind of wet rasping. He lifted his head up, stretching out his stiff neck, and his eyes blinked open, the light of the room briefly painful. He didn't immediately see anyone, and then a flicker of movement caught his peripheral vision, and he looked down. Saul was crouched there on the stone floor, palms flat, his tail swaying back and forth like a feral cat's. His tongue slid out of his muzzle and licked into the small puddle of pre that had leaked from Matt earlier.

He looked up, alerted by the jingle of the chains from the otter's slight movements. His long, pink tongue curled out again to lick at the side of his muzzle. Dewdrops of pre clung to his whiskers. "Well, look who's up," he said. "My boy, you are positively delicious. I've never tasted anyone better. And if this is just the appetizer..." He leaned his head down and licked into that puddle again. "Imagine what the main course must taste like."

Matt stood up straight. It was time for sex again. The little cat desperately wanted it. He felt himself shivering with urgent need. But no, Stetson had loved him enough not to do this. He could do the same. Fighting his instincts anew in each second, he backed up against the wall. "You said... you said you were all right," he mumbled.

Saul stood up. "I lied," he said, stepping forward, his long, sinuous tail switching behind him. "You can't hold it against me, you know. You're too perfect, too... too everything." He grinned, showing pointed, predatory teeth. "I'm helpless against you."

Matt shook his head. "I don't want this," he lied.

The tabby ignored him. "Sure, at first, I thought maybe at first I might be okay." He stepped forward again, deftly avoiding the jutting erection pointing out at him from below Matt's hard-lined belly. Moving to Matt's side, he put one finger to the otter's chest. His touch was light, and began to move in little circles, tracing the lines of the muscle. "But, my hot young friend, you spat that butter of yours right in my face."

Matt was briefly distracted, suddenly remembering the previous morning (was it only a day ago?) when he'd lubed up with butter and slid into Stetson's ass. He groaned, feeling his cock flex. A few drops of pre spilled from his tip, feeling like a small climax, and Saul's paw shot down suddenly and caught every drop.

"All night," the tabby said, "I could smell you, your cock right in front of my nose, begging me to lick it. For hours, knowing all I had to do was stick out my tongue just a few inches..." He demonstrated, curling that pink muscle briefly into an O as it slid from between his furry lips, then slowly and delicately lapped the droplets of pre from his fingers. "...and taste you." Then he shuddered, his green eyes fixed on Matt's face.

Matt shook his head. "Saul, think of what Stetson said. You don't want to do this."

The cat actually laughed at that, a light, carefree, disbelieving laugh. "Don't want to do this? My hot young friend, not only do I want to do this, there is nothing in my life that I have ever wanted to do more than this." He actually growled the last three words, putting his hand across Matt's chest again, and nestling close, his shirt buttons pressing against the otter's lats.

Matt felt himself flex his back and chest automatically, hard, felt the new muscle strain against tight skin. He didn't even intend to do it. It just happened. He could feel the cat's lithe, wiry body through the shirt, pressing up against him. It would feel so good to sink into him, just to get a little relief. But Stetson. "No," he said. "I'll stop you."

Saul arched a long-furred eyebrow. "Stop me?" he said. "I'm disappointed in you, Matt.

I'm not a rapist. How could you think that?" He trailed his fingers down the fur in Matt's chest, down the new, round bulges of the otter's abs, his touch light, almost grazing. Matt felt his cock flex again, as if trying to lift up toward the cat's paw. He was so close, so close. "I won't do anything you don't decide you want," Saul said. His hand slid outward to Matt's hip. "Just remember, all you have to do to get relief, to get the incredible pleasure an experienced gay knows how to give, is say one simple word." He slid his fingers down Matt's thigh, dancing around the inside, so delicately near those egg-sized balls. "Yes." At that last word, he pressed his chest firmly up against Matt's side and began to purr loudly, the sound vibrating against the otter.

Matt tried to pull back, his arms tugging at the chains, but there was nowhere to go. He gave another low groan. His balls felt so full, and the cat's fingers were right there next to them. They just needed to be squeezed a little, he just needed to feel that hand slide up his throbbing shaft.

"Mmhm," said Saul. He moved in front of Matt, and put both hands around Matt's lean waist, just above where his new thigh muscles curved inward toward it. He crouched down in front of the otter's bobbing cock, watching it, eyes following it intently. He moved his muzzle closer, so close that Matt thought for sure the soft fur there would brush against his tip, but it didn't. The cat's whiskers twitched, waving near Matt's hips, and then he opened his mouth wide.

Matt felt himself tremble. The cat was obviously about to slide those parted jaws down around his cock, bury his tip deep in that throat. But that didn't happen. Instead, Saul breathed out heavily, letting his hot, damp breath puff across the otter's tip. Matt gave another low groan, his cock flexing of its own volition as it spat another silvery stream of pre into the air - but it didn't go far, Saul catching it expertly in his muzzle and swallowing it down, his tongue curling out just millimeters from Matt's dick. All he had to do was lean forward...

"Please," he heard himself beg.

Saul smirked coyly up at him. "Please? Please what? Please suck me? Please sit on my cock? Oh no, big boy, not until you say yes." He winked one green eye. "I'm not a rapist, like I said." The cat stood up again, stepping back. "You want me to undress for you."

Matt shook his head no.

"You do? Hmm, you are flirting with disaster, aren't you? All right then." The cat twitched his hip to one side and stepped backward, moving sinuously in a kind of slow dance, his tail swaying. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, exposing part of a white ruff of fur. He tugged upward, pulling his shirt-tails out of his dark slacks, giving Matt a glimpse of a lean belly. "You sure you want to see more of me?" he purred.

Matt huffed his breath out heavily, unable to turn the cat down at this point.

"Well, that certainly wasn't a no!" Saul deftly unbuttoned his shirt, parting it to reveal a toned, lean torso that would have been appealing even on a man half his age. He tossed the shirt aside, arching his back, his slender shoulders rolling as his tail switched behind them.

I could take him so easily, Matt thought. He felt his fingers flexing toward the cat. If he came in reach, I could pin him up against this wall and.... He shuddered again, drooling pre onto the floor again. Saul immediately dropped into a crouch before him, arching his slacks-clad rump high, his belly to the floor, tail swaying above him as he lifted his head and opened his jaws to catch the pre on his tongue, swallowing it down. The sight of that made Matt pre again, the sensation better than climax had felt as his old self, but only building toward his arousal, not alleviating it. He groaned.

Saul grinned wickedly up at him. "Mmm, it's so much better warm from the tap." He rubbed his fingers in the spilled puddle, stood up, and dragged them down Matt's chest. Matt felt himself flex his chest again hard, watched the two thick slabs of muscle bunch up impressively as the tabby left four dark, matted trails down the middle, the scent of his musk suddenly much more intense, drifting directly up to his nostrils. The cat stood up again, backing away, and unbuttoned the front of his slacks. He was wearing striped boxers, bulging up in front with the obvious tent of his erection, pushing out through the parted zipper. "Should I take these off?" he purred.

Matt felt himself nod.

The cat grinned broadly, looking nothing so much like he was about to eat the canary, and then swayed his hips as he shifted his slacks down his slender thighs, over his calves, and then kicking them off his feet. Matt realized he could smell not only his own arousal but, much fainter but still distinct and noticeable, Saul's. The cat's boxers had damp spots on the front, and for the first time, Matt wondered who was really captive here? Himself, or Saul? Maybe they both were, helplessly driven forward by a tidal wave of hormonal instinct. Saul gripped his erection through the fabric of his boxers, making the head outline distinctly against the material. "Should I get rid of these too, muscle otter?" he smiled, looking up.

Matt felt his arms strain against the manacles as he tried to move forward, tugging against them.

"I'll take that as a yes," the cat sighed happily, and pulled the lip of his boxers out to tug it over his erection. The boxers dropped down around his paws. Saul's cock stood out stiff, six inches of pink flesh that pulsed with his need. His body was slender but well-lined, framing it, and he smiled up at Matt, stepping forward with a confidence that seemed unaware of the vulnerability that comes with nudity. Matt stared hungrily, longing to rub his tip up against that sleek bellyfur, wanting to see the cat arch his back again, licking up his pre while Matt moved behind him to squeeze into that slight, rounded ass.

Saul pushed his shoulders back a little, swishing slightly as he strode back to Matt, putting his hands on the otter's shoulders and nestling up close against him, careful not to let his side brush against Matt's erection. Matt panted, his breaths ragged and erratic, hips twitching with urgent need as the nude cat nestled up against him, the feline erection jutting up against the side of his abs. The cat leaned up higher, nearing his muzzle to the otter's neck, stuck out his tongue, and licked slowly from collarbone to just under the side of his jaw. Matt's wrists twinged as the cuffs bit into them as he tried to reach down and seize the cat. Pleasure radiated from his cock; he could hear the pattapat as his pre spattered onto the floor. Saul sunk down against him, hands sliding down his sides, trailing over new bulges toward his hips. Leaning close, the cat pressed his muzzle against the fur of Matt's thigh and began to lick slowly, steadily, his tongue rasping against the fur as he began to groom the muscled leg in front of him, sliding his tongue slowly up and down Matt's inner thigh before moving to the other leg, his tongue flickering almost painfully close to the heavy sac cradled between them before moving on, licking up the other thigh. He dragged it slowly up Matt's abs, which flexed into hard ridges of their own accord as they did so, making his cock bob, although Saul deftly avoided it.

Matt's body ached with need. Why wouldn't the cat just lick his cock, just move his head slightly to the side and touch it, slide those swaying whiskers up the hard and burning length? Why was he going to make him ask for it? At this point, the question of refusing seemed moot. A starving person would, if his hunger were deep enough, do anything, anything for a bite of food. A person who had not slept in days could not be kept awake no matter how urgent the need. And Matt needed sex. He was controlled by it. He could no longer resist.

Saul moved back and hovered in front of Matt's cock, and Matt lunged forward, stretching out his arms, reaching the very end of his chains. The cat quickly fell backward, dodging the movement, then got to his feet again. As Matt struggled at the ends of his restraint, pulling forward with all his might, Saul crouched again, opening his mouth into a perfect O, the tongue curled just slightly between his teeth, his breath panting against Matt's skin. He peered up inquisitively at the otter.

"....yes," Matt heard himself say. He could not feel regret. He had reached the end of his stamina.

Saul needed not a half-second further encouragement than that. Before Matt could do or say anything else, he dove forward, pushing the otter's dripping tip between parted teeth, his warm tongue curling around it, his muzzle tight, lips sealing around the otter's girth. Matt shuddered at the sudden relief of contact: it was like oxygen, like a drink of water when he was dying of thirst. His whole being shuddered with pleasure as he sunk into the tabby's mouth, filling it with pre as he did so, enough to make the cat's eyes widen in surprise. Saul didn't slow down, though. He swallowed, tongue massaging against Matt's cock with the motion, and then pushed forward, jaws gaping wider as he squeezed the otter's malehood into the back of his throat and down. Matt cried out in pleasure, his deep voice echoing in the room. Steadily, inexorably, his throat squeezing as it tried to swallow, Saul pushed down around him, until Matt's eight inches were deep in his throat, his nose bumping against the otter's abs.

Matt groaned again, and at that moment, the basement door opened. Stetson stood at the top of the stairs, looking down. There was no surprise or shock in his expression, at least as far as Matt could see. He surveyed the scene below. Saul didn't even pause; merely drew back slightly and then pushed forward around Matt's cock again, his breath huffing against bellyfur.

Stetson stared down for a moment, then slowly and quite deliberately sniffed the air a few times. Matt saw the front of his jeans bulge suddenly.

"Wait a minute," the rabbit said. "Let me help you." And with that, he descended the staircase, pulling off his shirt as he came.