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Chapter Four

Michael's rest was brief and unpleasant. The sexually-charged dreams he had - dominating and being dominated in turn by a variety of men - only served to frustrate him further; despite how pent up he felt, he hadn't even had a wet dream to provide some relief which he now desperately wanted. Not only that, his hunger was now at painful levels which kept him from sleeping long enough to feel properly rested.

Jack seemed to be still sleeping, though the other man dozed fitfully; his part human, part rat body turning and twisting, trying to find some comfortable position on the stone floor. Michael stared at him from his tired eyes; fighting the instincts that drove him to want to go over there and bite into Jack's flesh.

Forcing his eyes away from Jack, Michael examined himself. It was nearly impossible to tell if he'd improved or changed further; he felt different - not necessarily wrong, just different - which made things hard to reckon when it all so altered from the mental image he had of himself. He certainly looked fitter, thinking grimly, "If I keep up this diet and exercise routine, I might just end up pretty ripped. I'll be a weird cat-creature, but at least a well-toned one." The extra appendages didn't seem to have gotten longer, but he could still feel the buds of the growths in his shoulders out of his skin, and he still had his tail.

Tiring of his self-examination, Michael turned towards Jack again. He strained to hold his primal instincts - telling him to pounce upon the unwary rat-man - by trying to focus on Jack's human features. He'd never seen Jack as a human; Michael felt curious as to what Jack looked like before, wondering if he'd lost weight, or height, and what else had changed about him.

On hands and knees, Michael edged closer, eying Jack's sleeping frame. Jack had had brown eyes - not too uncommon - which still remained human; the other rat-mens' eyes had been red, possibly even totally red. Michael's own eyes hadn't changed, at least not very much, either. Edging closer with jaw hanging open, he wondered which of the two of them was closer to their monster side.

Thick saliva dripped out of Michael's mouth, splattering down onto Jack's sleeping form. Jack stirred, eyes blinking open; he looked tiredly up at Michael hovering above him, sharpened teeth glistening with saliva.

"Michael, what are you- ?" Jack asked, yawning slightly.

Michael snapped his mouth shut, opening them after what seemed to him like a too-long pause to say, "I was hungry, so I, uh, I wanted to wake you up so we could get going."

Wiping off the corners of his eyes, Jack agreed, "Yeah, I'm starving too. Maybe..."

Michael cut him off, exclaiming "Good!" and standing up. Swinging the door outwards, Michael stepped over Jack and glanced around the next chamber.

His head jolted backwards: the door had done a surprisingly good job of keeping the smell of the latrine pit - currently being used as a urinal by one of the displacer beasts - from seeping through into the small chamber they'd rested in. Michael watched the creature - much larger than the other, more lithe one had been - standing rather proudly, urine arcing and splashing down the hole. "Displacer beast," he mumbled.

"Hey!" Michael heard the creature call. "Come back!"

Michael eyed Jack, who stared back at him, both seeming to wonder the same thing. "You can speak English?" Michael called around the corner, hand tight around the door handle in case there was an attack.

"I fucking well hope so," the creature called back. "Can't speak anything else. You a pledge too?"

"Yeah," Michael admitted, slowly walking around the corner. The displacer beast was busy tapping its sheath, small droplets of urine dripping flicking off the tip. "I'm Michael. Michael Laird."

With his hand stretched outwards, the displacer beast circled around the latrine, responding, "George Durand! Did we meet earlier?" His mouth - rather pushed out due to his muzzle - pulled back in what Michael took for a smile.

"No," Michael said, eyes traveling over George's body. Despite being taller and thicker, he was no less well-toned; Michael guessed George might have been a body-builder or something before he came down here. His black fur concealed some of the curves, but they were certainly there. "I came later on," Michael added. He felt himself starting to breathe in heavily; George's musk was heavy and pleasing.

A cough from behind Michael caused him to turn; Jack was standing there, trying to see through the doorway. He exclaimed, stepping further into the chamber to allow Jack to pass through the door, "Oh! This is Jack, er..."

"Allington," Jack finished. "But I think we might have met earlier. You were a pledge tonight too?"

Nodding, George elaborated, "Yeah. Hey, sorry about you guys being left behind. I didn't make it much further myself before the other guys dropped me too. Not that I can blame them, really." He laughed, looking down at himself. His tentacles splayed out, stretching as he flexed. "I guess they were worried I'd lost my mind or something and was going to come after them. Not that I wouldn't, but that would be for something other than mauling them!"

Michael grinned back, his tail twitching. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack seemed to be glaring at him, but Michael didn't pay any notice; George's body seemed to hold him in a trance. From somewhere in his periphery, he heard Jack ask, "So, how come you can still talk?"

"I don't know," George shrugged. "Most of the panther-guys don't seem to mind me. I guess I look and smell enough like them to pass muster. Plus it helps that I pin them down and fuck them." Grinning like an idiot, he asked, "Hey, wasn't there two of you? Er, three, if Mike came here later."

Jack replied, somewhat annoyed, "Yeah, Chris got turned into a rat-man." Jack's tail whipped from one side to the other.

"Too bad, he was kind of cute. You too I guess, rat-boy," George grinned. "You're not looking too bad yourself, Mike," he added with a purr.

Michael heard Jack mutter, "My name is Jack," under his breath. Louder, Jack asked, "So, what happened after you guys left us?"

George shrugged, "We made our way down to the stairs, then had a bit of a break with a little bit of hot foursome action to help us relax. Some of the guys weren't too keen, but I talked them around in the end. Then when we were ready to go, we - well, I - got attacked by one of those cat-things-"

Jack interrupted, "They're displacer beasts, or near enough."

"Oh, okay," George grinned. "Whatever. Anyway, one of them attacked me; the other guys tried to help, but then it had stuck its cock into me, and it felt pretty good so I told them to go on ahead. I did my best to give it a good time until we wore each other out. When I woke up, I looked like this. I'm a bit pissed off; I'm pretty sure my cock's shrunk a fair bit too." He stared at Jack's crotch, and said, "Not yours, I see. Too bad, if I'd known I'd have gotten attacked by the rats too."

Michael's own penis had started poking out, imagining George and another displacer beast - he imagined it was himself - sprawled on the dungeon's floor, hands and tentacles sliding over and around each other, cocks slick and throbbing. He grinned dumbly.

Jack repeated, "Yeah. Too bad."

George inquired, "You guys gotten any action yet? I'm guessing Mike here hasn't."

Michael replied, "Almost, a few times."

Jack interrupted, "Do you have any food or know where some is? We're both starving."

George nodded, absent-mindedly thrusting his crotch in their direction. "There's some meat around the corner. It might be raw or just rare."

"I'm so hungry I could eat anything!" Michael exclaimed.

George, hand falling on to Michael's shoulder, leaned in and whispered, "Good to know!" Louder, he exclaimed, "Follow me!" Pushing Michael forward, George led him around the corner; Jack followed a few steps behind them.

The passage turned again; to the right was a members door, and just beyond a small pile of steaks - red and juicy - had been deposited on the ground.

George grinned, mentioning, "I had some earlier. The other cat-guys probably have had some, but I've not seen them around in this section."

Michael quickly fell onto the pile of steaks, picking one up and quickly jamming it into his mouth; the meat's juices splattering over his muzzle. Biting off chunks with his unnaturally sharp teeth, he moaned as his starving gut started to fill with beef.

Jack, nose twitching as it sniffed at another of the steaks, asked George, "This section?" He then bit warily into the steak.

George nodded, staring at Michael as he answered, "Yeah, there's a couple of those small rooms that you guys were in before. The cat-guys can't get through them; can't use the doors or something. I can't either; well, I can but it's difficult." Raising his hands into the air, he demonstrated how his very paw-like hands had a configuration of claws and padding that made them alright for pouncing and attacking, but not so great for gripping. Shrugging, George continued, pointing at his head, "I guess they could too, but then they're not all up there."

Jack mumbled acidly, "But you still have sex with them?"

George, still focused on Michael, missed Jack's implication and exclaimed, "Oh yeah, they're eminently fuckable. I mean, they're cat-people, but then I'm practically one too, so when in Rome..."

"That's uh..." Jack started, before getting cut off by George.

George interjected, "And these guys are really, really desperate for it, you know? I mean, sometimes they get caught in groups, but sometimes they're on their own and they can't jerk off or anything so you just lick them in the right places and after that they'll just bend over and let you take them. They're still guys after all." Changing the topic abruptly, he asked Michael, gorging himself on a second steak, "So who are you when you're at home?"

Michael mumbled, mouth full, "Law student. Part time legal gofer." His stomach was starting to protest less, and his other desires were starting to come to the forefront. Gulping, he inquired, "You?"

George answered, "I'm a business student myself; I just started college this year. I work at the gym part-time, great way to stay in shape and get paid. You gay?"

Michael wavered his head, "Sometimes; I guess I'm bi but I just go through phases where I prefer one to the other."

George nodded, "Yeah? I was just curious - and probably a little high too - when of my fag friends from the gym mentioned he wanted to come down to this club and cruise for hot guys and I said I'd go to see what all the fuss was about. I mean, a mouth's a mouth, right?"

Michael shrugged, "I guess." His hunger sated for the most part, he ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to dislodge the gristle that had gotten caught up between them.

George turned around, flexing his muscles boastfully. He continued, "So, I arrive and find out this club's wilder than advertised. Naked guys everywhere, and then it gets even wilder down here. Rat-men suddenly out of nowhere and it's like 'Holy shit! What's going on here?' and then we're running away totally freaked out. I start thinking that maybe I smoked a little too much before coming around, but then everyone else is acting the same way.

"Then we get our way around some weird shit like moving floors and secret doors, and then down some stairs where we get attacked again, only this time I'm the one getting left behind, and this guy's clawing at me and tying my legs, and then he's fucking me, man.

"So I'm changing and his cock's ramming me in the hole and I, well, I kind of like it and I've been wandering around getting fucked and fucking all sorts of ways."

As he narrated his story, George moved right in front of Michael. Being leaned over by the muscular George, Michael felt the displacer beast pheromones wash over him. George turned and said something to Jack, but Michael was already too busy running his hands over George's furred chest for his brain to recognize what the words meant; it didn't help that one of George's tentacles was gently probing at his rear, the other gently circling the tip of Michael's exposed member.

Michael groaned in surprise as George then grabbed him under his arms, raising him up; Michael wrapped his legs around George's waist as George shifted him further down the passageway, around the corner and out of Jack's sight. In the semi-darkness, Michael felt that George was aroused, too; his spiky-tipped penis slid in between Michael's thigh and scrotum. Arms around George's broad chest, Michael felt the top of his back slam up against the wall, George's arms having slid down to push Michael up higher.

George's tentacles both went to work on Michael's cock; one continuing to massage the tip as the other probed around the base of his shaft. George's fingers carefully worked around Michael's rear, his hole gradually loosening as the spiky dick underneath Michael dripped fluids that were caught up and used to lubricate him.

Michael's own cock had become drippy by now as well, under the combination of the scents and heat from George's body closely pressed against him and the ticklish ministrations of the tentacles working his shaft.

They both started moaning; Michael fleetingly noticing how much both of them snarled like jungle cats, George's seemingly heavier with it than his own. Instinctively reaching forward, Michael licked at George's face; behind him, his nubs writhed and seemed to flail.

Then George's tip finally penetrated him; Michael felt himself slide down as George's hips bucked backward and forward. Michael moan-snarled again, his legs tightened up around George's waist, trying to keep his tail off to one side or the other.

With George's hands pushing apart his buttocks, Michael's cock twitched a little as the prickly tip slid through him, pushing up against his prostate. George's tentacles left Michael's cock suddenly, spasming and flailing about behind as George leaned his head back and growled. His thrusts became more rapid, and Michael's arousal started to ebb as the soreness of his back rubbing up against the hard stone wall started to overcome his arousal.

George's dick had been leaking into Michael even since he'd first been penetrated, but now he felt a heavier squirt erupt through his insides: George's thrusts became more irregular as he ejaculated. Warm fluids quickly trickled out of Michael's sore asshole as gravity went to work on George's semen.

Michael felt his body sag away from the wall as George, spent from the exertions, tapped him on the legs. Unwinding himself, George staggered back a little, his gooey cock sliding out of Michael with a wet splat as more cum dripped out.

Breathing heavily, George tugged on Michael's hand; Michael bent down and, under George's guidance, lay on the ground face-up; legs guided apart as George's muzzle slowly lapped at Michael's cock.

The heavy, rough, feline tongue lapping at his shaft made him moan again, and the painful twinging and throbbing of his back seemed to fade away as he quickly became aroused again. Michael purred as his shaft popped out into the cool, shaded passageway, before quickly disappearing into George's hot muzzle, two wedged-outward clawed digits sliding up and down the base of his shaft.

It wasn't like the blow-jobs Michael had gotten before; most people he'd had sexual encounters with didn't have long, sharp fangs in their mouths, and the lips were certainly different. Nevertheless, Michael enjoyed the feeling of the hot, wet insides of George's mouth caressing his cock. His eyes partially closed, Michael vaguely made out George's tentacles swaying almost hypnotically behind him.

George's rubbing of his base became harder, and Michael began to leak pre-cum over George's roaming cat tongue. Michael's tentacles started to flail behind him, his muscles twitching and his joints flexing and contracting as he squirmed and moaned.

Michael felt George quicken his rubbing, his own body informing him that it was preparing for the orgasm that was quickly approaching. Michael panting became heavier, his abdomen heaving up and down. His breath brought in more of George's musk, which seemed to make his whole body throb with arousal.

When George's tongue slipped one final time over the tip of Michael's cock, Michael breathed in sharply and felt his hot fluid jizzing out, some of it plopping wetly down his shaft. A few more wet squirts, and the rest of his ejaculation slowed down, the cum oozing over his tip like hot, heavy lava from an eruption.

Michael lay prone, recovering from his orgasm as George's mouth pulled away; his eyes closed, Michael heard George spitting repeatedly. A couple of seconds later, Michael felt warm light above his closed eyelids, and he opened them again: Jack was stepping around his prone form, somewhat clumsily as his face was angled away.

"So," Michael heard George say, still not quite wanting to get up yet, "want to have a go, ra-err, Jack?"

"No," Jack replied quickly, "I'd rather just get on."

"If it's the whole cat-rat thing," George argued, "then I'm totally okay with it. Besides I'm curious about that cock of yours, and how lo-"

"I said no," Jack interrupted. "I don't know about you two, but I still want to get out of here."

"Yeah, okay," Michael finally agreed, curling up before rolling up onto his feet. "We should probably get out of here."

"Alright," George chuckled, raising his clawed hands up, "I know when I'm losing."

"Good," Jack nodded.

"Besides," George added with a grin, "that'll just give me more time to work on you, Jack."

Michael was behind the two of them, so he couldn't see Jack's expression, but the stiffness of the muscles in his back seemed to tell him enough. Fighting off a temptation to curl around and lick himself clean - "George had been fun," he mused, "but not that fun," - he quickly caught up to Jack.

"Everything alright?" Michael asked.

Jack, glancing at Michael only briefly, answered, "I guess."

"Sorry about leaving you alone back there," Michael apologized. "I - well, I guess it's kind of like with you earlier with the rat-men. I kind of just got caught up with the pheromones and stuff, but since George is still, well, human enough I didn't really worry about it as much as you did."

"You've gotten worse," Jack mentioned, pointing behind Michael.

Michael twisted his head, looking around at the back. The most obvious change had been the tentacles, which had sprouted from the small nubs to about the length of his middle fingers. Everything else didn't seem too bad - a bit more length in the muzzle and tail, perhaps, and a bit of extra claw from his fingers and toes - especially as he still looked more human than George did. "Not that looking more like George is a bad thing," Michael wondered to himself.

"It's not bad, and if George has been managing as far as he's gone, then I should be alright for a bit," Michael shrugged.

"Yes, but-" Jack grumbled.

"So, you girls talking about me?" George interjected, popping his head between them, his muscular arms falling over both of their shoulders.

"Oh, it's just that I've become more like a displacer beast," Michael explained, trying to distract George from the dirty scowl Jack sent his way.

"Yeah, it doesn't make much sense to me," George admitted. "When I get fucked, sometimes it gets a bit worse, but not too bad, you know? Not like the first time; maybe it's virgin ass or something."

"You could have told us before you went off with Michael!" Jack growled.

"Woah, apparently it's not just kitty who has claws," George laughed. "Besides, that's why we're here, right? Hot gay sexual encounters? Just think of it as an STD."

Jack, stepping forward, poked George in the chest and shouted, "Yeah, looking like a rat or a tentacled cat is a really fucking common sexually transmitted disease, or at least it is on planet asshole!"

Michael soothed, "Hey, hey! I could have said no, Jack. It's as much my fault as George's, and we can't do anything about it now anyway. Maybe we ought to be a bit more careful when we have sex though, at least until we figure out a way to control it, okay George?"

George rolled his eyes, and argued, "Look, I've been doing fine on my own before you and rat-boy here turned up, okay?"

Jack grumbled, "Then maybe you ought to just fuck off and continue to do your own thing, then?"

Exasperated, Michael swore loudly, "Oh, for fuck's sake you two! I'm not going to sit here wasting time listening to you two bitch at each other." Heading into the darkness, Michael marched toward the next corner.

"Wait, Michael," he heard Jack call as Michael stormed off.

Michael ignored him; he also ignored George's added comment. All his focus was on the shimmering reflection of one of the mirrors in the corner up ahead. Shadows flickered around his vision, and even the sound of his claws clacking against the stone floor died out.

The next moment, Michael found himself bathed in darkness. Staggering to regain his footing, Michael pricked up his ears, nostrils flaring. He couldn't smell any fresh scents of another displacer beasts - just some remnants of George clinging to himself, and however much his own scent matched up - so decided to recline against the edge of the wall.

"The whole reason for coming here was to avoid all this stupid drama shit," Michael thought, holding his hands against his ears as though to block out the fresh memories. Having sex with George was a mistake; he could see that clearly now. Jack clearly didn't like him, and George just seemed to deliberately get on Jack's bad side. And that was at its simplest; if Jack had some feelings for him, which given the stressful situations they'd been in was a distinct possibility, then Michael had really stuck his foot - or rather, his dick - into it.

Musing on what he was going to do next, he was startled by George suddenly appearing beside him. "Woah, wicked, I didn't know I could do this too," George said, tumbling over.

"What are you doing here?" Michael asked.

"Well, you just vanished," George explained, "and then rat-boy, um, Jack started blabbing about dungeons or something, and he said I could magic my way around by looking in the mirrors."

Michael stared back, "You've never noticed the other displacer beasts doing it before?"

George laughed, saying, "Dude, I toked up before coming in here, I'd have believed in fucking marshmallow men on say-so. Then I just kind of got busy with fucking around like a real homo, and I didn't really pay attention to what the cat-men did afterwards. Besides, I usually wandered off before then."

Michael shrugged, "Well, Jack knows his monsters, apparently."

George grinned, before asking, "You two aren't a... a thing, are you?"

Michael shook his head, "No, I only met him when I got in here. I guess we came close a couple of times to maybe having sex, that's about it."

George shrugged, "Maybe he has a crush on you or something. Something's up his ass and it ain't the usual."

Michael glowered, "It could be that you're just a prick."

George leered, "I didn't hear any complaints earlier."

Michael half-nodded, not wanting to get into the fact he'd probably have done it with an inanimate stool given how much he was running on hormones. "Well, maybe we ought to cool off or be a bit more discreet about it in future or something."

Light steadily grew; clattering paws striking the ground suggested that Jack had grown tired of George and Michael not returning and was heading off; hoping to either catch up or maybe just to continue on his own.

"You think I should fuck him too?" George asked.

"What?" Michael exclaimed, trying not too burst out laughing. In his head, he admitted that he didn't know Jack all that well, and there were sometimes people who just surprised you with who they caught up with, but Jack and George seemed like a disastrous pairing.

"I mean, maybe it'd help him to relax, or feel like he's included or something. I'm kind of curious to see what rat-cock is like." George added.

Michael shrugged, "You could ask, but I really don't think he'll agree. Plus I really don't think that you guys would do well together. He's still a virgin, so he might be hoping for a good first time."

George's eyes widened, and he smirked. "A virgin? Damn, I got laid more tonight than he has ever. Maybe he does need something to replace the stick up his ass..."

Jack joined them soon after, huffing after a short jog, carrying all of their belongings. "Fucking hell, next time come back for me!" he growled at the two displacer beast-men lounging around.

Michael stood up, "Sorry, I just needed some time to myself to collect my thoughts."

George asked bluntly, "So, Jack, you're a virgin?"

Jack stared at Michael, his jaw dropping open. "You told him that?" he whined, squinting slightly.

Michael planted his face in his palms, but George countered, "Woah, woah, no need to get so testy. There's nothing wrong with that. Just letting you know I'd be up for a little action if you should want to empty those giant balls of yours. Hey, if Mike was up to it we could try a three-way; I haven't had one of those either, and think of the stories you can tell when you got home! 'My first time was a fucking three-way! Suck on that, bitches!'"

Michael and Jack just stared at him silently for a moment too long.

George relented, "Okay, okay! I just wanted to let you guys know everything was cool!"

Michael sighed, "Let's just go, okay?"

Jack nodded, "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

The three went around the corner proper, heading down a short passage before turning to the right. George pointed at the mirrors at the corners when they got there, and asked, "So, I can magic myself around using any of these mirrors?"

"If there's a mirror on the other end, yeah," Jack answered. "At least, that's the prevailing theory: reflections letting you move between them. That's the reason why I called them displacer beasts. I mean, with the teleporting and the tentacles, not with the mirrors."

George nodded, inquiring further, "So, if that's not what they do, why do they need the mirrors at all?'

Jack shrugged, "That I don't know."

George shrugged back. "Lucky we had you along then, eh?"

Michael smiled slightly, half-wondering if George was simply trying to get into Jack's metaphorical pants. The next two turns were right, and the next was left as the passage weaved its way around; all walls mirrored. Shuffling forward, George asked, "Then how do they move between sections? They can't use the doors."

Jack answered, "I don't know that either."

George nodded, saying, "Fair enough." He seemed to be about to ask another question, when his tentacles and tail started to twitch. Feline nostrils flaring, George added, "There's another cat-guy close."

Both Michael and Jack sniffed around too, agreeing that an extra masculine feline musk was shifting around in the air.

George grinned, "Hey guys, I've got this one." Turning, he looked into the mirror, squinting into it dramatically before the air around him seemed to shimmer and then George vanished. Further on down the short corridor, they saw George reappear; dropping on to all fours as though it was his natural stance, prowling forward and out of sight. A few moments later, and Michael and Jack crept forward to follow.

Suddenly they jerked backwards as George and another displacer beast tumbled over, both snarling and growling. Michael could tell which one was George - he was still the biggest displacer beast of sorts they'd seen - but if he hadn't encountered him earlier he wouldn't have been able to tell.

Watching the mess of furred limbs and tentacles thrashing about Michael started to feel himself getting aroused slightly again. Quickly staring at the crotches of the fighting pair, he noticed that the two of them seemed to slowly be getting erections; pink, spiky ends emerging, contrasting against the shiny dark fur of the creatures. Unconsciously, Michael started to rub at his own crotch.

The two continued to fight and claw and snap jaws at each other, until both George and the displacer beast's wrestling became less violent and more amorous. Currently on top, George seemed to have one; the two started to lick and groom each other, George's tentacles slowly wrapping around the other displacer beast's legs.

Michael felt himself drawn to the pair as George lifted the displacer beast's legs up and apart; his own cock fully erect as the musk from the pair seemed to pour off them like a thick fog. Transfixed by George's cock, tip glistening as a drip of precum slid down the smooth pink flesh, Michael stepped forwards.

Suddenly, he felt a hand clamping down on his wrist. Jack, eyebrows tented in the middle, whimpered, "I don't think that's a good idea."

Michael, aroused by the scents and now the sounds as George forcefully penetrated the displacer beast, pinned Jack over against the wall. His pointed pink erection jabbing into Jack's groin, Michael whispered, "It's probably not, but it might at least tire me out a little if we encounter more later, and it should distract him from noticing you enough to sneak past."

Jack mumbled back, "I think George is doing a good enough job at 'distracting' for the both of us."

Michael, a slightly rough tongue-tip hanging out of his mouth and dripping saliva onto Jack's shoulder, offered, "I'll explain later, just let me do this, okay?" Pushing away, he headed over to the George and the other displacer beast.

George purred, the fur of his crotch wet with the juices squirting out of his cock; the displacer beast's back slammed up and down under the combined effort of George's thrusting forwards and the tentacles forcing him hard down George's shaft. The creature's own cock had retracted - Michael knew from experience that George wasn't the best at keeping the other guy's cock aroused while fucking their ass - but it seemed to be enjoying things well enough.

Mimicking George's earlier approach, Michael dropped on to all fours; it wasn't nearly as natural for him as it had been for George or the other displacer beasts, but he didn't do too badly. The other displacer beast's head tilted to the side, and hissed; George was way too preoccupied to notice.

Michael tried to block the displacer beast's view of Jack - from what Michael could hear above the thrusting bodies and sexual moans was that Jack had stayed put where he'd pinned him earlier - while approaching. Not having been much of a cat person, Michael had no idea of any feline etiquette while approaching two cat-men fucking; but he knew enough about men to know what they'd probably enjoy.

Heading up to the creature's face, Michael licked the creature's muzzle, trying to come off as friendly. It yowled warily at him, but Michael slowly moved his hands over its wrists to avoid any struggles, massaging its arms to make everything appear more sensual. Michael's head started to lick further down the creature's chest - the taste of fur not too appealing, but Michael couldn't really think of a better approach - while trying to make his intentions clear. When the tip of his short muzzle pressed into the creature's crotch, Michael felt a surge of panic as he realized his own genitals were going to be near the displacer beast's own muzzle - complete with sharp fangs - but it was too late to pull back now.

Lowering his head, Michael started to gently take the displacer beast's sheath into his mouth, coaxing his tongue into the tip of the sheath while trying to move his head to avoid bumping into George's now-hurried thrusting. He felt the displacer beast's tentacles slowly wrapping around his ankles, gripping tightly when both it and George yowled in pleasure.

The hot feline breath on his genitals made Michael drip precum onto the creature's fur; now that George's movements were becoming slower, and the creature wasn't suffering any more pain from having George's erection rapidly shoved into its ass, the creature seemed to recover quickly, and Michael felt the hot, dimpled head of the displacer beast's cock entering his muzzle, followed by the smoother, but still hot, shaft.

While he hadn't had much experience with fellatio with a mouth filled with sharp teeth, he still had more leeway than George had to contend with, and after a few moments Michael's head bobbed up and down on the shaft, lips tightened, milking the displacer beast's dick slowly.

Suddenly, he felt his own dick being encased in a warm, wet muzzle. The tips of fangs threatened to tear into his cock, but the rough tongue lapping at his erection made up for it: whoever the displacer beast had been in his previous life, he had either been well practiced in, or had gained a great deal of knowledge of, orally pleasuring another man: just enough sensation to keep things interesting while just skirting the edges of physical pain.

The more his nostrils jammed down into the creature's crotch fur, the more of its musk permeated into Michael's brain; he felt his rationality slipping away just enough to get caught up in the moment. He noticed only subconsciously that George had slipped out, disentangling from the displacer beast, even though it meant his own body had sagged closer to the ground, and he had to be careful not to slam his lower jaw's fangs into the fleshy tube bobbing in and out of his mouth. And he barely consciously recognized the sound of claws striking stone as the tongue on his cock tip massaged him to the point where his legs nearly buckled.

Michael's short tentacles undulated on his back, the hairs prickling as they sensed movement from his side. Suddenly he felt another tongue on him - someone was licking his asshole. Michael's arms released the displacer beast, and started to lightly massage and stroke around the creature's shaft.

Michael's mouth opened wide, quickly gasping for breath before lowering again, enclosing the displacer beast's penis, though still working it, now more vigorously between his fingers. Suddenly the base of his own shaft was being squeezed - someone's tentacle was starting to gently milk him - which just excited him all the more.

All the previous anguishes and worries from the last few hours or days drifted away, along with the concerns with the future; Michael was fully caught up in the moment, the apparently neverending pleasure of being sucked and licked and milked while giving the same pleasure to someone else.

The tentacles around his legs tightened; Michael prepared his open mouth gladly, and waited as the warm, thick splash of semen squirted into him. Michael kept licking; another shoot trickled out of the side of his mouth.

The displacer beast's jaw opened wide as it gasped for air; Michael felt his saliva- and precum-slick penis tingle in the cooler air as George's tentacle slithered up the shaft. Another, heavier, squirt of displacer beast fluids entered his mouth; Michael lapping it up, cleaning off the shaft in his mouth sloppily as his own pleasured moaning caused trickles from the corners of his lips.

The displacer beast's penis continued to ejaculate, but now less so and much slower; Michael barely noticed, as he felt the stirring in his own loins that made his knees jerk inwards as his body prepared himself.

Michael came hard; something - maybe George's tongue, maybe his recovered cock - had slithered into his saliva-lubricated hole and had poked him in the prostate at just the right moment. For a brief second, it felt like his cock had become too sore of being tended to to cope any more; the next second Michael felt as though his balls were emptying into the awaiting displacer beast's mouth.

Michael barely remembered what happened next, his body and mind tingling in the post-orgasm rush of endorphins through his system. What he recalled was mostly snapshots: sagging contentedly onto the torso of the displacer beast, George sliding beside them both; then he and George supporting each other, trying to walk towards a door next to a fountain in the darkness; looking at an apparently contented and tired-out displacer beast curling up in the corner of the maze; Jack helping him to get seated.

The next continuous moments Michael remembered clearly was staring at a gold-lined keyhole on the special door beside him, listening to the faint trickling of the fountain on the other side of the wall, the sound traveling underneath the other door beside him. George, apparently mimicking the displacer beast's sleeping traits, had curled up to sleep near Michael's legs. Jack was sitting nearby, staring into the corner where two normal doors met.

"Hey," Michael grunted.

Jack replied noncommittally, "Hey."

"I need to tell you something," Michael explained. "When I woke up earlier, I- okay, let me put it this way. I know for a certainty that displacer beasts can be a lot like cats when it comes to things resembling rodents. Especially when none of their various hungers are sated."

Jack's eyes turned away, grunting, "Oh."

"Yeah," Michael continued, turning away himself as he felt blood rush to his face. "It's not something I'd really want to happen to you, because you're a good guy. I don't know how much I can trust myself, and I certainly don't trust George, though I think you could probably push him to sex more easily if it came down to it." Michael looked at George, then added, "I mean, sure, I'll admit I find him really fucking attractive, but I th- I hope that a lot of it is just the pheromones."

"What's your point?" Jack sighed.

"Sorry, I'm probably rambling," Michael apologized. "I guess I just mean that we all kind of get something out of it: for the moment I'm pumped up and hot for George's body, so he and I can use each other's bodies to get some of what we need to stay sane; then you get to be kept safe."

"You really are a fucking lawyer, aren't you," Jack grunted.

Michael smiled, chuckling, "Not yet, but hopefully some day." Yawning, he added, "Everything okay?"

Jack shrugged, "I guess."

Michael replied, looking at George, "I think I'll take a cat-nap too." He yawned again.

Jack said, "Sure."

Michael closed his eyes.