Stay Out of the Sewers
Note: This story and all characters therein are copyright (c) Bysmark 2007.
Another older story, edited and fixed up. A silly tale of tentacles and raccoons and the sort of things tentacles can do to raccoons. A little out-landish and cheesy, but that's what I was going for.
Stay Out of the Sewers
I'm sure you've heard all the fairy tales about creatures lurking in the sewers. Every city has some kind of story like that to keep the children from exploring places they shouldn't. Tales of alligators; of the non-anthro kind, or of boogiemen who stalk children in the dark.
It's all rubbish, at least the boogiemen and feral alligator parts anyway. The sewer is home to one type of creature however, and they make good use of it as a means for travel and escape; simply moving from place to place. Maybe even sanctuary from time to time.
Thieves.
Yes, yes, I know. How original that rogues like that would be scampering around in the darkest recesses of a town or city, but unlike monsters or other things that go 'bump in the night', they are real. Skulking about in the grime covered, dingy tiled walkways of every sewer system, every underground passage. It has been this way for decades and I do not doubt it shall continue to be so for many, many more.
Unless word gets out of course. Word of...'it'.
I am getting a bit ahead of myself here, I do apologize. To put it simply, I am the narrator. I have no name that I can remember or would care too. My duty is to simply serve as a warning for those who would dare travel within the dank, foul smelling sectors of all cities in North America. Which is why you have come seeking me out, to hear my tale of horror and morality. One that would forever keep you away from those tunnels which we do not care to remember.
As stated before, there is one thing that sewers serve as a refuge too, thieves. That is true, until I witnessed events that I would sooner forget. I saw it all, the look of utter terror and despair etched onto that poor soul's face as that 'thing' wrested him from the firm boundaries of the scum-covered walks, dragging him into that foul water.
It was revolting, even for one such as I, a lowly vagrant who was once like that wretch, stealing to make a living. Of course, I never suffered what he went through and I stood there, transfixed in utter fear and amazement as I watched from the shadows; something these mortal eyes were not meant to see. Even now, I can feel my blood chilled to the bone when I even remotely think of it, yet it is my duty to tell the tale.
Certainly, you are familiar with the ethical impurities that are associated with stealing? Those same morals were what stopped me from continuing down that dark spiral of sin and malevolence, so instead I try and turn others from that path. I have not succeeded as of yet. In either case, that is not the point of this tale; to speak of myself.
It begins on the street tops of Winnipeg, a city within the Canadian province of Manitoba. Lovely city really, yet like every rose, it does have its thorns.
***
Stevie licked a finger, testing the wind. Good, it was blowing south and away from his mark. That way, his scent wouldn't be picked up by the lone collie walking down the street. A cursory glance to his sides told him that they were alone on the street, though the raccoon hid within the depths of an alleyway off to the side, blending in with the shadows perfectly.
His dark eyes flashed underneath the mask of black fur that shrouded his face as he rubbed his paws together eagerly while a devilish smirk splayed across his slim muzzle. The coon's ring painted tail swished about lightly behind and idly he reached down and pulled the appendage close, running his fingers through the bushy fur playfully. He always did this before moving to his target, a technique he used to relax his nerves.
The thrill of the hunt was on. Though the woman was taller than him and the way she moved suggested that she was keeping an eye on her surroundings only served to make the adrenaline pump faster in his veins. Stevie "the Snatch" Cunnings, as he was so eloquently called by his friends and fellow city bandits was probably the greatest purse snatcher this side of Manitoba. A title that made his small, procyonid heart flutter with pride. Every time the name would be mentioned, his already massive ego would inflate just a little more.
A light flickered nearby, one of the street lights he figured. The blinking, dying energy of the bulb would soon sputter out, leaving that section of the street in total darkness. He couldn't wait for that to happen though, or else his prey would get away. She was already walking quickly, despite the fact this was supposed to be a fairly safe part of suburbia. Supposed to be anyway. Her shoes clicked and clacked heavily against the sidewalk with every step in her rush to get home, her long, dark hair trailing behind her and down her back. It would bounce now and then, and so would the purse she carried.
Stevie licked his muzzle lips lightly. No doubt there was a fair amount of cash in a purse that big. He could sell whatever was in it for some extra money too and there was bound to be a credit card or two in there somewhere as well.
This is why he liked this part of town, though he did his best to not hit it up very often. These old, rich bastards could spare to lose a bit of cash but he didn't want the police to know that thieves prowled this area on a regular basis. This was his hot spot. He didn't want to lose it, much like his other thug friends didn't want to lose theirs.
The light continued to sputter, trying feebly to preserve what little luminance it was able to shed.
His nose twitched as the woman came to a darker part of the street, with several trees casting long, enveloping shadows over the sidewalk. Perfect conditions. With a twitch of his button nose and a swish of his tail, 'the Snatch' snuck quietly across the street, his paws already flexing with anticipation.
Every step was silent, it had to be. The way she tensed up at the slightest of noises would give away his position if he made even the tiniest of sounds. He was even careful enough to will his bushy, ringed tail from brushing up against his own body. The tight, tattered blue jean shorts he wore made no sound, unlike the baggier variety his friends wore. Even the tiny jingle from the three piercings in his left ear seemed to remain quiet as he snuck up closer to his mark.
His nose stung with the pungent smell of perfume as he neared her. A soft breeze blew her scent down to him, and the strong smell stung his nostrils, almost forcing a sneeze. Quickly, he covered his nose with a paw and stopped moving entirely as the urge slowly ebbed away. The woman would have been long gone now if he did, running away in fright. When he was sure everything was alright, he continued to creep behind her, always sticking to the shadows cast by the trees in the park to their side, always remaining quiet.
Gingerly, his paws flexed as he reached out towards the strap of her purse, being careful to avoid her tail as it hung low. More than a few times it almost brushed up against his arm or leg. Stevie's grin turned into a look of shock as he pulled his paw away quickly when a sound to his side made him almost jump out of his fur. The woman did as well and he did his best to blend into the darkness; preying she hadn't seen him. Just the way her nervous eyes shifted from one side to the other was a give away that she knew something was up.
Thank God the wind was still blowing south, keeping his scent hidden. His paws had begun to sweat, making his palms slick with perspiration. The coon hazarded a glance to his side, looking over the retaining wall of the park.
There was nothing, only the grass and the trees, a few scattered benches and a water fountain far too the back, the sounds of bubbling, churning liquid barely audible. A nervous grin spread across his muzzle lips and he tapped his black, button nose lightly.
Come on Stevie, get a hold of yourself. It was probably just a cat or something, he reasoned to himself before slipping back onto the exposed sidewalk. Already the border collie had started moving again, quicker now. If he didn't act soon, she would cross into a much busier section of suburbia and he would miss his chance.
Quickly, he padded after her while staying silent. His bushy tail bobbed in the air behind him as he half sprinted, half walked towards her, closing the distance between them in a few short seconds. All the while, his earthy brown irises scanned the streets for potential dangers.
The street itself was quiet but a few lights in the houses lining the opposite side of the street still remained on. The Snatch silently cursed the luminance as he stalked after his mark. At least the street was deserted, leaving just the two of them alone. This was going to be almost too easy.
Can't complain with that, he laughed to himself. Once more, he extended his paws to the strap of her purse, the gold-painted metal buckles sparkling in the little light shed by the few functional street lamps. She had no idea that he was behind her.
His paw pads closed around the burgundy leather strap and yanked hard, causing the skittish dog to yelp loudly, jumping in surprise. She hung on to the purse tight. Stevie hissed at her as he fought to wrest the purse away from his mark, though he didn't expect for her to be this strong or putting up a fight like this.
"Hand it over bitch," he spat viciously, digging his claws into her paw, drawing tiny spots of blood onto the white of her fur. The nameless victim growled loudly while calling for help, kicking Stevie in the shin but the raccoon thug never let go, intent on getting his prize. All he had to do was get it out of her grip and then make a break for his pre-planned escape route. The open man-hole leading into the sewer system of Winnipeg was only a short jog down the street but if he didn't get the purse away from her quickly, her cries would be answered in short order.
"Help! Help, thief! Help me!" came the ear piercing cries from her muzzle and Stevie slapped her hard across the face, shutting her up quickly. The canine growled and moved to kick him again, aiming at a much more sensitive spot this time. Her foot shot forward, catching the coon in the crotch. The grimace of pain that flashed across his face and his loosened grip on her purse strap allowed her to wrench the bag free as he collapsed into a fetal position, his paws cupped over his aching sex.
"Fucking bitch!" he stammered, shooting her a look of hate as she started running away with that black tail between her legs. He clambered to his paws despite the pain. After getting kicked in the nuts like that, he was not going to let her get away free. He winced at the sharp pain in his groin but the coon thug pushed it away, sprinting after her.
The grey and black blur of fur moved quickly, catching up to the fleeing collie and leapt at her. They both fell to the sidewalk with a tumble and her screams renewed with increased vigor. Stevie slapped her again and pressed his knee against the small of her back, spikes of pain shooting up the length of her spine until he finally wrested the leather purse from her paws. With a triumphant shout, the coon leaped from her back onto his feet, already making a mad dash towards the sewer entrance back down the street. The woman's screams echoed in his fuzzy ears and had finally been answered apparently.
Glancing to his left, more than a few doors had opened, the heads of several curious furs peaking out onto the street from all the commotion. The Snatch swore under his breath and ran faster as more people shouted at him. He was almost there though; nothing was going to stop him from making his escape. A wicked grin splayed across his muzzle as he leapt down into the deep darkness of the sewer, the acrid stench of garbage filling his nose as he fell, landing lightly on his feet on the grimy tiles, continuing to run down the length of the walkway before disappearing behind the corner, following the river of decomposing trash and other unpleasant things.
On the surface, a few furs stopped, peering into the gloomy darkness. No one wanted to take the plunge into the subterranean depths. The coon had gotten away. Several went back to their homes, others stayed with the frightened and clearly distraught border collie, her paws shaking as she recounted what had transpired to them. Someone called the police, but it would still be several gruelling minutes before they arrived probably.
The only thing they could do was either return to their homes or wait.
***
It watched the entire thing from a safe distance away. The creature with the long hair and bag strode along the sidewalk, her eyes skittering from one shadow to the next in front of her, searching for prowlers or other things that lurked in the dark.
A blink of its eye and it turned to watch the whelp that crossed the street, a smaller, street-wise being with torn jean shorts and a dirty muscle shirt. The way the creature's tail swished back and forth calmly, almost playfully suggested confidence and self-assurance. A quick mental suggestion to itself had its vision zooming in on the thug, with soft, delicate looking fur and a mysterious dark mask of the same kind of skin enshrouding its eyes.
Why did it have two eyes? A cursory check pronounced that the obviously fearful, long-haired creature had two as well. The thing's primitive mind couldn't comprehend the complexity of these strange beings, but it found itself attracted to them. The way the stronger, prideful being in the back moved with such grace and fluidity entranced it. It wanted to know more.
From the safety of the sewer grating, the nebulous eye watched in amazement as the raccoon creature grabbed a hold of the bag the canine held and began fighting with her. The screams and cries for help sent pangs of sorrow and misery flitting through its mind and heart, yet it knew not what such emotions meant. Instead, it just watched in utter curiosity as the younger, furry creature collapsed onto the ground, the other being having kicked a fuzz-covered appendage at her assaulter's lower half.
The eye found it strange that such a weakness could paralyze the coon like that when it had clearly looked as if he had the upper hand. Its vision followed the woman, who had run screaming down the street with the bag that the procyonid craved so desperately. The coon was up then, dashing after her once more. A gurgling sound echoed from inside its gelatinous coat somewhere, of glee and excitement as the ringtail leapt at her and forced the bag from her grip. Whatever that thing was, it didn't even seem to register the cries for help echoing from the muzzle of the fallen woman. Instead, the raccoon thing raced down the street before leaping into a small, circular opening.
Several other of the furry creatures had gathered on the street; some moving to assist the fallen canine, others moving to observe the open man-hole. The sewer beast blinked in astonishment, having never seen such a gathering of beings before.
For countless decades, it had slumbered within the depths of the filthy waterways, living a peaceful life of sleep and solitude. Yet it had been woken up. Something had disturbed its rest yet the creature did not know what. Many times it had come across strange prints along the walkways of the sewers, and seeing these creatures put a face to the mysterious, dust covered paw prints left in the grime coated, tiled floors. It must have been these furry beings that had disturbed its rest; there could be no other explanation.
There was no anger however, for the nebulous being was too primitive to understand an emotion such as that. Yet, a strange sense of curiosity, of wanting to study and see what these 'top-worlders' were dominated its feeble mind. The ring-tailed humanoid had jumped into the sewer, somewhere. Perhaps that would be the best candidate to satiate its curious appetite for discovery.
Growing bored with the over-world scenery, the beast slid back into the watery depths with a gurgle, leading with its only eye in search of the coon that had trespassed into its territory. A wanton desire for knowledge and understanding lead it around the bends and turns of the Winnipeg sewer system, as the yellow, gel encased iris searched for the procyonid amongst the gloomy, decrepit shadows of the crumbling walks.
***
Stevie leaned up against the crumbling walls, out of breath. There was no way anyone would catch him now, he had ran through too many twists and turns in the various tunnels for anyone to keep track. The stench of garbage and other decomposing matter masked his scent perfectly; though the rank aroma clung to his fur heavily. It would take a nice, long shower to get the pungent smell of sewer from his already dusty fur.
He grinned down at the purse still clutched between his dark paws. Just from feeling its weight he could tell there was a fair amount of loot inside it. Sure, some of it might just be feminine products but he could always pawn most of it. With an eager gleam in his eyes, the Snatch tore the zipper open wide and rifled through it.
He pulled out a leather bound wallet, un-fastening the button before dissecting it with his eyes. He pulled out a pair of credit cards and the seventy dollars in cash from the sleeve. The rest seemed to be garbage, membership cards and the like, so the coon dumped it back into the bag before searching some more. His paws came in contact with something cool and metal. An MP3 player. Further digging revealed a cell phone; turned off to save its battery. His claws clasped around several tube shaped objects and he pulled them out for a closer look. They were white and vaguely resembled test tubes. Stevie scrunched his face and tossed the hand full of tampons into the churning sludge in front of him.
The rest of the junk inside the heavy bag seemed to compromise mostly of make-up and other womanly devices. With a shrug, the coon just tossed it all back in the back, except for the credit cards and paper bills, which he slipped into the pocket of his tattered shorts. With a quick motion, he zipped up the bag once more and started down the filthy walk, humming softly in triumph.
Tonight had been a fairly productive evening. He had successfully pulled off two muggings and made some decent cash out of it to. Three cards in total, plus a whole lot of random junk to pawn off at the shops. He would finally be able to afford some new threads now that he had some cash. The dirty muscle shirt he wore was really starting wear; just like his shorts were already. Stevie's tail swished about happily as he strutted down the sewer walkway towards his den on the other side of town. He knew these tunnels like the back of his paw and it would only take about an hour or so to get there.
A dull rumble emitted from one of the countless pipes lining the ceiling of the tunnel, the metal rattling and shaking before a stream of liquid poured out of the opening. Stevie paid it no heed, having seen the process repeated hundreds of times and would likely see it at least a dozen more before reaching home.
The walk was uneventful enough, but something didn't seem quite right, ever since he had made that turn about ten minutes ago. The coon looked back as he pressed himself up against the dark wall. It almost felt as if he were being watched. Nothing was there though, just the steady gurgle of the river of refuse. With a shrug to himself, Stevie just kept walking, unaware of what lurked in the waters to his side.
Another ten minutes passed and the feeling of oppressive stares did not fade in the slightest. More than once he turned back to see if he could find anything, anyone, yet it was always the same, no one was there. Just the comforting silence of the sewers.
"Fuck man, get a hold of yourself," Stevie berated himself out loud. "It's probably just a rat or something."
With another nervous glance, the raccoon started forward again. That's when he heard it. A soft slosh of water being moved around. Of course! That's why he hadn't seen anything. Whoever or whatever was following him was in the sewage itself. Stevie couldn't help but shudder slightly as he picked up the pace. His footfalls echoed on the grimy concrete with each step, but still the sloshing sound followed, now accompanied by equally weird gurgling noises.
It happened suddenly; something wrapped around his ankle and tripped him. With a surprised yelp, the Snatch pitched forward onto the ground with a thud. It was a good thing he had the strap of the purse wrapped around his arm or he would have dropped it. Something had tripped him! With his mind and heart racing, Stevie scampered to his feet, suppressing the fear-filled scream he wanted to just yell out as he broke into a run. Whatever it was that followed him was also chasing after him, his small ears easily picking up the sound of it moving against the flow of the thick liquid.
"Leave me alone!" he cried out as he ran as fast as his legs would allow him. His breath came in ragged, laboured gasps but he kept pushing himself forward. A few more blocks and he would be home free. A cry wrenched itself free of his muzzle as he pitched forward again onto the stone floor. This time however, the wet appendage didn't let go and the coon clawed at the floor desperately to avoid being dragged into the putrid river.
The strap of the purse remained firmly attached to his arm as he fought to stay on solid ground. His tail and legs had been pulled into the sewer water and he could feel several other thin arms wrap themselves around his legs, using sheer strength to tear him away from the ground and into the water. He somehow managed to get it together enough to suck in a deep breath before his head plunged under the disgusting stream. Panic overwhelmed him and he clawed at the strange, gelatine like arms to no avail. His claws simple went right through whatever it was that was holding him.
It held him there for almost a minute and Stevie struggled every second of it. His lungs ached and burned but he refused to open his muzzle. His heart pounded and his head throbbed when finally, the thing holding him lifted the coon from the murky water and held him in place in mid-air. The raccoon opened his eyes, staring at the one, massive iris looking directly back at him in fright and bewilderment.
"W-what the fuck are you?!" Stevie gasped in terror as the strange, goo-enshrouded eyeball blinked. It never said anything, just continued to stare at him blankly. A shudder coursed along Stevie's soggy fur as it held him there in place. Panic began to well in his mind again and he struggled against the tentacle-like bonds that held him. Unlike some of the others, these arms felt much more solid and no matter how hard he tried, however fierce he struggled, they did not let go. Stevie whined pitifully as the appendages wrapped themselves tighter against his fur. The nebulous eye had moved right up to his face, barely an inch away from his black nose. A lone drip of sewer water fell from the very tip of his muzzle, splashing into his already grime-coated clothes and fur. The eye just blinked, studying him.
The thing reeked like the very water it resided in. Sure, the coon could easily stomach walking down here, on the dryer sections of the walk but being so close to something that lived in the bubbling sewage and being dragged into the water beneath him was almost too much for the poor thug to handle. The acrid stench of decomposing waste lingered in his nose with ever breath and the hideous, blood-shot eye encased in a greenish-brown layer of slime didn't help matters either. The way it moved about, studying and inspecting his face made the coon squirm nervously in its grasp, each shutter of its oculus lid causing him to squeal in disgust.
The thing had no body that he could see, if it even had one. The only visible portions of it were the tentacles holding him in place, and a thicker spire of ooze that held the thinking and seeing part of it. The way its pupil would shrink and expand whenever it came to a particular physical trait sent another series of shivers convulsing through his body. Stevie's tail tried to tuck between his legs, but failed miserably, hanging down from the weight of the heavy water and gravity. The motion however caused the being to slither down to the furry appendage, beginning another set of scrutinizing stares.
To the sewer beast, this strange, bipedal creature was utterly fascinating. The way it squirmed desperately to get away, or the strange markings of dark coloured fur along its face and tail seemed almost beautiful to the primitive mind within the ooze. The surface dweller seemed particularly intent on holding onto the bag that it had forcibly taken from the other creature on the street and when it tried to pry it from the coon's grasp, he would thrash about, trying to claw, kick or even bite at the tentacles.
Not that it mattered. No pain was ever felt when a claw would sink into the gelatinous shell. A few more arms shot forth from the depths of the stream, curling around the coon's arms tightly to restrain him. He hissed and spat words in a language it didn't understand. It tried communicating back, but the series of guttural gurgles and bubbling sounds fell on deaf ears. The raccoon wasn't listening.
With his arms caught in the embrace of...whatever the fuck this thing was, he couldn't fight back when more tentacles burst forth from the slimy river and tore the purse free from his grasp; the strap breaking under the combined strength of many arms. It held the bag close to its lone eye, blinking once then again before tossing it to the side with a thud. Stevie looked at the bag resting up on solid ground forlornly. The prize he had worked so hard for was now so close, yet so far away. His eyes gleamed with renewed zeal; he wanted it back. He would get away, he would survive.
"Let me go! Fuck, I said let go of me!" he screamed, thrashing about once more. The coon leaned over, biting the arm that held his left paw in place but it didn't phase the sewer beast in the slightest. It was then he noticed the many, tiny organ-shaped objects inside the tentacles. Maybe if he could claw or bite at one of them, it would let him go. "How do you like this you bastard?!"
His mouth closed around one of the arms, biting into the gooey substance with ferocious vigour. He bit deep, puncturing one of the many fluid filled sacs that floated inside the beast's arms he soon found out as a strange, sticky liquid sprayed into his muzzle. Stevie pulled back as a milky white mist formed in the wounded tentacle but the creature otherwise took no notice. Spitting out a mouthful of the offending liquid, he pulled and tugged some more at the arms. They refused to let go. "Just...let me go," he pleaded desperately now. Tears rimmed the coon's eyes, his strength failing him finally. There was no way he was going to win against...whatever the fuck this thing was.
In actuality, a great sense of pleasure spilled into the beast's mind when the sac exploded. Feelings of intensity overwhelmed its meagre senses to the point it began craving it. A bubbly gurgle escaped the water, loud enough that Stevie heard it, jolting him from the depressed stupor that clung to him like a second coat. Mistaking it for a sound of anger, the coon fought viciously as several tentacles began poking and prodding him. Each one of them contained similar fluid-filled sacs just waiting to be popped and the creature was going to have that.
Stevie whined pitifully as the tentacles slithered all over his body, caressing his wet fur and tickling him. Not the sensations he was expecting in the slightest. The suspended coon even giggled a little bit when a gelatinous arm ran underneath his paw and grinded up against his armpit, tickling him. The feeling faded quickly however as the same tentacle, along with a few others slithered and squirmed underneath the neck and bottom of his muscle shirt, running all over his body.
One stopped at his nipple, prodding it gently before a strange sucker like cup wrapped around it entirely. The coon tensed and tried to lash out at the harassing length futilely. He didn't even come close to reaching it. Slowly, the soft skin underneath the suckling arm of the beast became hard and ridged, sending delightful sensations coursing through the coon's body. It took note of the way Stevie's body tensed and a soft, pitiful gasp escaped his muzzle. Seeing that, it snaked several other arms over his chest and underneath the dirty shirt; the seams of which already beginning to snap and break apart. The material had already been fairly tight against his own body, but with at least half a dozen of the membranous arms coiling and moving across his torso stretched it too the limit.
The sound of his shirt ripping filled his ears and the arms curled, tearing it away completely. Stevie watched as what little protection he had tumbled into the murky water with a splash, leaving his chest exposed. The coon gasped as he saw two tentacles wrapped around his waist, slipping beneath the lips of his jean shorts, one still sucking at his pec and a few others sliding and grinding all over his body. He had never felt so exposed or weak in his entire life. Having lived on the streets, stealing for a living; he was used to jumping and having the upper hand on furs. Now though, the tables had turned. He was the pray and whatever this sewer monster was; it had beaten him completely.
The eye was back and watching him again. Stevie didn't miss how it was transfixing its penetrating gaze upon his soaked, torn shorts than himself. Panic swirled in the coon's mind again, just knowing what the thing had in mind.
"Don't you fuckin' dare!" he shouted, kicking at the nebulous being, but it paid no attention to the screaming fur. Instead, it just forced its arms further into his pants, sliding along his wet briefs and stretching the soggy, blue material to their limits. Stevie winced as another arm wrapped itself around his leg and began slithering up until the tip vanished beneath the opening of his pants. The sound of seams being popped and ripped resonated in his ears. Why did this have to happen to him?! Was he going to die this way?
He whimpered as his shorts tore free, falling into the river of sludge much like his shirt before hand. The tentacles squirmed and writhed along his body, some already pushing past the wet barrier of his briefs before tickling his damp, fuzzy sac and sheath. The Snatch tried to pull away from the soft, erotic prodding of the tentacled fiend but he couldn't move. His jelly-like restraints held him firmly in place as they continued to poke at him like some kind of caged animal. Soon enough, the arms tore through his undergarments like confetti, leaving him completely exposed. Stevie watched as the last bit of clothing he had tumbled to the river with a dull splash.
The creature was enamoured with Stevie. The way his lithe, finely muscled body rippled with every sensitive touch, tensing and flexing fascinated it. The raccoon thing seemed particularly receptive towards the lower half, where his fur formed an almost tunnel-like opening with a pair of equally fuzzy orbs hanging just below. Whenever its arms would stop and caress that hanging sac and the sheath above, he would squirm in his bonds delightedly.
The all seeing eye of the creature stared, transfixed on the tiniest hint of pink escaping the fuzzy holding on the raccoon's groin. It shifted around, coming dangerously close to touching his fur and prodded the tip with a tentacle. The flesh tensed underneath and a tiny, crystalline drop of liquid rolled from the slit at the very tip, quickly absorbing into the captured thug's fur.
It blinked. These surface dwellers were strange indeed. Yet it hardly cared as it pressed a slimy tentacle into the coon's sheath, causing Stevie to tense up and let out a whimper.
"S-stop...," he pleaded but the thing paid him no heed. It couldn't understand him. Instead, it continued to push the appendage in, pressing up against his cock before pulling out.
The eye blinked once again, looking at its own tentacle in amazement. A milky white mist hung inside the gelatinous appendage, followed by a deliriously pleasant tingle. The same sensation that had overwhelmed and dominated the thing's feeble mind only a few minutes prior. It craved the sensation again and immediately delved back into the raccoon's sheath.
Stevie groaned against the pressure of having his sheath expand for the beast's appendage as it pumped in and out of it in quick, rapid succession. Yet at the same time, the coon's mind tried desperately to fight the feelings of arousal. How could he possibly be getting hard a time like this, with some strange sewer monster raping his sheath? This wasn't right. This was...God damn it felt good having someone, or something touching him like this. The Snatch closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as the monster continued to hump an arm into his sheath, grinding and bumping up against his cock, which was growing harder by the minute.
It was good. That is all it could understand. The procyonid's sheath was deliciously tight and warm. Now and then the flesh inside would sputter out a few spurts of precum, though it did not know what it was. The fluid would quickly be absorbed into the beast's already dripping arm. With every thrust, more of the diminutive sacs would swell before bursting in a milky shower of orgasmic bliss. Soon enough, the jelly like curtain containing the creature's own fluids began to dissipate and shrink before eventually it opened entirely; flooding the coon's sheath with a sticky, milky white liquid. The sexual juices of the sewer beast spilled out of his sheath and across his hips before dripping into the water below with tiny splashes.
Stevie groaned as he watched what could only be his captor's cum seeping from his rapidly hardening sheath; phallic tip pushing past the gooey contents before emerging into the musky air of the sewer. It felt so wrong to be getting a stiffy over this thing fucking his sheath but he couldn't help it. At the same time, it just felt so damn good. Even so, the need for survival kicked in once more and the coon began struggling again; hoping for some small chance that the creature would be weaker now that it had just cum all over him. He flexed his arms, paws clenching and unclenching and kicked with his feet, trying feebly to break loose. With a resolute hiss, Stevie tugged with all of his might.
His bonds were as strong as ever.
The motions only caused the nebulous eye to turn away from its own handy work to stare directly at him, almost pressing right up against his button nose. Stevie flinched as the eye blinked, the massive shutter fluttering before him before it withdrew itself away. The coon breathed a shallow sigh of relief, glad the disjointed eyeball had moved away; even though his personal space was still clearly being violated.
That was until he felt a tentacle slithering its way up his chest and around his neck before prodding at his muzzle. He resisted biting at the arm, remembering what happened only a few minutes prior and he didn't want to get another mouthful of sewer monster spunk. However, there seemed to be no avoiding it as he glanced quickly down at his goo-coated crotch. His own quivering shaft elicited a lone, clear drop of precum that dripped onto his bare fur. The Snatch twisted his muzzle away from the offending, prying tentacle; yet it merely followed him. A slight gurgle rang out from the creature...somewhere and it pressed the arm up against his snout, prying his lips apart.
Fuck, I can't win, Stevie whined to himself. He gritted his teeth yet the sheer force his nebulous molester was exerting was pushing his jaws open bit by bit. He fought with all his strength but he just couldn't win out against the insurmountable strength of the creature. His jaws ached and already his tongue could taste some kind of heavy tang that burned his throat and made his head spin with each breath. While the harder, dryer portions of the tentacles no longer dripped sewer water, the stench still lingered yet for some reason; it tasted like rum oddly enough. A very nauseatingly strong brand of rum but not what the thug had expected.
Another unseen tentacle grabbed at the scruff of his neck. The coon immediately noticed that this one was different, simply by how it dug lightly into his fur with two or three, he wasn't really sure; talons. The motion caused Stevie to whine again, forcing his mouth open enough for the sewer beast to shove the probing appendage into his unwilling maw. The acrid taste filled his mouth and he could smell the thing's ungodly stench with every breath. The Snatch did what he thought was best; he struggled some more. The feeling alone; of having the rounded-tip of the tentacle, which was leaking the same liquid that he had previously gotten a muzzle full before almost made him gag. He tried to pull away but the strong arm holding his neck forced him to remain in that position.
It rubbed against the back of his throat lightly with what he could only assume was the creature's precum sputtering forth down his esophagus before it began to withdraw slowly. It slipped along his tongue, coating it with a fine layer of pre-ejaculate while bumping up against his fangs constantly. It didn't care; nor did it feel any pain. All that mattered to the thing was the intense feelings of pure, untainted ecstasy. With a wet pop, the appendage slipped free of Stevie's muzzle with a thin, dripping trail of saliva hanging from his lower lip to the tip of the arm. The eye watched it all intently.
Instincts told him to clamp his mouth shut again, yet the arm in back forced his muzzle open again so that the thing could roughly shove the gooey tentacle back inside the warm confines of his face. Slowly, it began humping the gelatinous, oozing length into the coon's not-so-willing muzzle, forcing Stevie to practically choke on it with every thrust. His tongue and inner cheeks were wrapped in a thin layer of the monster's precum, or; again, that's what the struggling fur thought. Now and then, Stevie would whimper and moan helplessly, more so when the delicate, slick and wet feeling of yet another offending tentacle began groping at his own dripping shaft.
Stevie berated himself silently behind the mouthful of flesh for being so turned on. Just the way the multi-limbed creature softly wrapped that almost uncomfortably warm, wet appendage around his throbbing cock caused the coon to buck his hips forward just a bit. The delighted sensation of having something other than his own two paws feeling him up like this sent shivers coursing down the length of his spine and tail. Yet having that oozing piece in his muzzle made him panic just as much. By all accounts, there was no way he should be getting turned on by any of this.
The thing lives in the fucking sewers with all the shit and everything and here it is, shoving a pretend cock in my mouth while pawing me off? Why the fuck am I up so much?!
The eye just watched intently.
Having his teeth scrape roughly against the arm only served to heighten the intensity of the feelings coursing along the tiny nerves inside the arm. Nerves that sent signals to each of the tiny sac-like organs to expand and explode in a milky-white mist. It didn't matter; they would grow back eventually.
With every thrust, more of the sacs would explode and subsequently float to the tip of the arm and leak into the coon's muzzle. The almost indescribable, intense warmth of the coon's mouth was delectable, as was the feeling of that wet, slimy, almost velvety tongue of his. He still continued to struggle but with the arm holding his neck, he made little; if any progress at all. The way the furry creature would squirm and buck its hips into the arm wrapped around that slim, pink shaft caused the sewer dwelling denizen to gurgle with glee. The street-wise top-dweller really seemed to be enjoying it! Maybe there was something else it could do to add even more sensation to it all; for the both of them. With a splash of water, another uncounted tentacle slithered into the open air of the sewer towards the lower end of the aloft fur. The eye scanned the top half of its toy yet nothing presented itself. It snaked around, the spire-shaped casing holding the oculus intact sloshing about the thick waters. It moved to the lower half and found what it sought.
Just under the ring-painted tail was a small orifice; just big enough that it could probably slip an arm inside. All it would take was some working; just like the coon's mouth before hand. The eye blinked as it gently eased an arm against the puckered, pink opening of Stevie's tail hole, the tip of which already dripped in delight. It pushed and met with stiff resistance. A muffled whine came from the front of the creature and the eye moved back to see what was the matter. Stevie's face was a mask of bewilderment as the tentacle continued to muzzle-fuck him with its partner molesting the captured fur's cock. Precum leaked from the tip, sticking to his fur as the arm continued to paw at him with feverish delight. Wet slurping sounds resonated from his muzzle every time the tentacle would pull back before shoving itself forward into the warmth of Stevie's mouth. Already the gelatinous curtain that coated the innards of the appendage had begun to shrivel and shrink, much like the other one before. Stevie could feel it too and he whined even more; knowing full well what was too come.
He clenched his eyes shut tight as another arm pushed into his tail hole, sending bolts of pain shooting up through his body. Though covered in a slick coat, the arm was still fairly thick and he could do little to prevent the sewer fiend from having its way with his rear. He just continued to whine and whimper pitifully as the thing humping into his muzzle edged closer and closer to the brink of climax. Soon, his muzzle would be flooded by cum of the thing raping him and his aching sex wouldn't recede. In fact, knowing these things potentially served to turn him on even further.
A grunt escaped his filled muzzle as more of the slimy tentacle pushed into his tail hole; spreading him open wide. It hurt like nothing he had ever experienced before yet somewhere at the very back of his mind, something clicked and the tiniest hint of pleasure crept forward. It never occurred to Stevie that he could be turned on by having something pump into his tail hole. He'd never had sex with a guy before; hell, he didn't even think he was gay or even remotely curious but a tiny spark of delight rolled through his suspended body as the creature began to slowly ease another inch inside of him. Slick with the oozing liquid inside, the going became easier until it finally began to withdraw from the excruciating warmth of the coon's innards. With a muffled moan, Stevie's hips bucked forward again into the wet hand of his gelatine formed captor as the tentacle slipped from his rear with a wet slurp.
The eye watched it all curiously before placing the appendage back up against the rogue's hole and pressing forward again. Slowly, albeit easier, the gelatinous arm began to sink back into the comforting flesh. Stevie continue to moan as the creature sunk a good six inches of itself inside of him before easing it back out; only to repeat the process all over again. Like the coon's muzzle, the thing began to fuck the fur completely and utterly.
A spasm would tear through his form whenever it pushed in too deep but for the most part the sewer fiend had built a nice, steady rhythm in which it quickly learned the limits of its captured toy's comfort. Spittle and ooze leaked from the coon's muzzle lips as the wilful appendage slithered between his jaws furiously. Stevie had to swallow the foul tasting preseed just to avoid choking, which meant he had to breathe through his black button nose; the pungent aroma of sewer beast filling his nostrils every time he inhaled.
The fleshy tentacle was becoming harder and harder by the second and he knew it would only be a moment or two longer before the thing unloaded itself in his muzzle. Just the thought of that happening made his waist hump forward again into the teasing arm that gripped his small pink cock, which glistened and spat precum constantly. He felt his own climax building quickly while the monster beneath the foul-smelling waters fucked both his ass and muzzle in rapid succession. The coon's body twitched and quivered in the throes of pleasure, despite the gravity of the situation he was in, delighted moans and whimpers seeping from his saliva-coated muzzle; some of pain, some of lust, some of fear. His mind barely registered when the ooze coated tentacle finally became completely rigid and not so slimy before it dumped the contents of itself into his mouth.
Stevie groaned as the beast's arm spurted its juices into his maw; the gooey, sticky cum spilling down his throat and quickly filling his muzzle with the heavy tang of seminal fluids. Reflexively, the raccoon swallowed once, twice and thrice before the appendage withdrew itself from his maw, now painted an off white with its seed before more spurted out on his face. The creamy juices splashed against his grey-furred cheeks and plastered his ebon mask in globs of the sticky ooze. The rest sputtered out onto his neck and chest, coating the coon's fur with cum.
It wasn't finished with him yet.
The Snatch's breathing became heavy as the only sensations remaining was of his tail hole being filled and of his own phallic flesh being tugged and pulled at lightly. Dark irises flashed as he gazed at his cock being suckled on by the gooey appendage while the other continued to snake in and out of his tail hole. With the steady drip of lubricating juices from the thing itself, the pain had quickly subsided, though not completely. With a groan, he clenched his eyes shut tight, his paws closing into fists and flexing whenever the creature thrust back inside his warm confines after withdrawing. The supple flesh was already becoming harder and Stevie knew that the orgasm which would soon follow would happen sooner than later. It didn't take much effort to figure out that the thing was getting off much quicker this way than it had with his muzzle. The delighted, almost cheerful gurgling from beneath the dank water below was proof enough of that. It all came down to whether or not he would cum before or after the creature. If the coon had money to bet, he would have readily placed it on himself. The stimulation of having the slick tentacle slithering and sucking on his almost impossibly hard shaft made his head spin on its own. Yet the addition of his prostate being constantly slammed by the thing's sister arm took it to newer levels; transcending the bounds of pleasure he had known before.
A hiss of panic-filled ecstasy slipped from his sloppy lips, the fur on his face matted heavily from the thing's second climax of the evening. The flesh of his cock was rock hard and his balls became tight with his body; the hot juices within churning with anticipation. The coon bit his tongue, the heavy tang of semen still thick within his muzzle while he continued to hump into the thing's slick appendage. With baited breath, he waited for the eventual climax that would overcome him at any second. The procynoid heart beating within his chest thundered and fluttered as his body tensed just a little more as the gooey arm penetrating his tail hole sped up. The thing could sense his growing anticipation and lust-filled want.
His pleasure-filled cry echoed on the cold stone walls of the sewer.
The Snatch watched, enthralled, as his cock throbbed and pulsed in the sewer beast's grip, cum spitting forth from the tip in righteous ecstasy. With a groan of fearful passion, his warm juices sprayed across his chest, some even splattering across his lower jaw as the monster continued to hammer his prostate; milking it. Stevie howled as his own jizz splattered on his fur, matting it even further. All the while, the tentacle continued to jerk him off until no more cum dripped from the tip. Stevie's head swam in a swirl of panic and undeniable pleasure. Never before had he had an orgasm that intense. He felt weak; almost drained.
The oculus took it all in intently; watching with delighted glee as his toy came all over himself. The way the thug's cock pulsed and shuddered as the milky substance sprayed all over him filled the beast with a strange sense of accomplishment. Satisfaction. A bubbling gurgle resonated from within the water when a surge of bliss overwhelmed the thing's feeble mind. All of those hard, forceful thrusts were finally coming to fruition as the jelly-like shell hardened and shrank entirely, unloading the contents of itself inside Stevie's tail hole. The coon tensed and whined as the feeling of being completely filled tore through his body as the tentacle pulsed its seed deep into his bowels, painting it much akin to what it had done to his sheath beforehand. Plenty of cum slipped past the arm and spilled down into the loathsome water below until finally, it withdrew; leaving a very empty Stevie hanging in the air, the monster's cum and his own coating and matting his fur almost everywhere. Even his ring painted tail hadn't escaped the tentacled fiend's orgasm. Its seed dripped from the Snatch's abused hole down onto the fluffy appendage slowly.
He hung there limply for what seemed like hours; yet it had only been a few moments. The creature still held him aloft and it would gurgle to itself now and then but nothing happened. After thoroughly fucking him, the tentacles had slipped back into the grungy waters and disappeared from the coon's vision entirely. The eye still remained yet it seemed as if it were quickly losing interest in the thug. More often than not it would be looking around the sewer, as if something was going to sneak up behind it. Nothing ever did. Eventually, the nebulous eye's singular gaze drifted to the purse, still resting on the walk. Stevie followed its gaze to the object and then everything seemed to race back into his mind; the situation he was in and the fact that he needed to get out of it.
There was no need to struggle this time however as the creature tossed the naked, cum-soaked procyonid against the wall, the fur crashing to the floor in a daze. Stevie's head lulled on his shoulders and he almost passed out right on the spot when he saw a gooey arm grab at the handle of the purse. Instantly, his senses snapped back.
"Like fuck you're going to take that away from me!" he shouted while making a bold dive for the leather bag. A tentacle shot out of the water, pinning him against the wall. The furious coon clawed and gnashed his teeth but the creature's immense strength was just too much for him to overcome. It was with hate-filled disappointment that the Snatch watched as the purse slipped into the grimy muck. The appendage holding him drifted slowly down the matted fur of his chest, playing with his shrinking hard-on just a little bit before plunging into the fetid river.
Stevie watched it go, the churning ripples on the sewage surface the only indication that it was there at all. He blinked as the realization of what had just transpired filtered into his mind. That...thing had just thoroughly raped him and he had gotten off to it. A shiver coursed down the length of his body as his eyes searched for his clothing.
There was nothing.
With a furious shout of anger, Stevie ran down the length of the walk, in the direction leading away from the beast and to his den. The coon cursed and shouted all the way, vowing to never use the sewers as a means of escape again.
***
Sirens and voices could be heard from the open man-hole and looking out the sewer grating before hand, the creature could see at least a dozen other surface dwellers walking about in some kind of strange black uniform. Brilliant flashes of blue and red would filter into its cornea rapidly before disappearing in a blink, only to return a second later with equal intensity. They all seemed so intriguing and the creature vaguely remembered the pleasure it had gotten from playing with that bipedal creature that it had encountered earlier. Would they all be as fun to play with as the raccoon had been?
That thought was gone before it could even answer it as one surface-walker in particular caught the thing's attention. It was the same one the coon had assaulted before. She still seemed shaken and disturbed but those other beings around her seemed to have the woman's tears under control. It couldn't understand a word they were saying but it just knew that her distress had something to do with the grime-covered bag it now carried.
The oculus looked at the purse curiously and then back to the woman. Somehow, it managed to piece together the significance of the item to her and it surged towards the open sewer cover. The canvas of night beckoned the thing from high above, yet it knew that it couldn't go to the surface. Its life was down here, hidden beneath the sewage and muck of Winnipeg. Despite the beauty of the stars twinkling, the creature ignored the tempting voices inside its mind and tossed the bag high.
Further and further it soared, up past the open man-hole to clatter on the street loudly as the buckles scraped against the concrete. A few voices shouted in surprise, including one, very happy sounding feminine vocalist. With a delighted gurgle, the sewer creature slunk back into the mire and muck for a much needed rest.
Who knew what or who else could be lurking down along the walkways of the sewer. By morning, the fluid-filled sacs would be reborn and the hunt would be on.
***
So ends the tale, my good friends. Take what I have said to heart, for that creature does indeed still lurk about in the dimness of the Manitoban sewers.
Last I heard it had moved itself to the water-filtration facility on the edge of town where it has been reported that many of the workers have been disappearing for hours at a time, only to return without their uniforms and covered in a viscous fluid that only one such creature I know could produce. The slight stagger in their step is a good indication of what that thing is capable of.
So, let my tale be a warning for all of you furs who would dare stalk the sewers and water-ways of any and all cities, for I have heard similar stories spun by the tongues of those like myself. Creatures prowling the water for their next victim. Things that do not know the difference between good and bad, man or woman. They simply are what they are and will stop at nothing to get what they desire; to fill the insatiable void with their gluttonous wants and desires.
The temptations of pleasure and gratification can spur even the lowliest of creatures into a ferocious frenzy of terrifying proportions.