FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Well-kept Witness by theonehowl

Fang pulled at the restraints that surrounded him like a spider's web. The "net"-like trap held him down painfully with his knees on the cold concrete floor and his toes pointing straight back, but the silk rope binding around his shoulders, arms, wrists; all tucked in the sinews of the tiger's fur-covered muscles, felt soothing in the way it dug deep with its pressure. The thread burned against his fur, and the knots dug deep under the flesh... feeling somehow good. The more it pressed in, the more of the sickly-sweet smell wafted up in Fang's nostrils. All this left Fang feeling very fearful of his predicament.

He jerked his head every time that smell hit him. His body convulsed every so often because of the tight claustrophobic sensation. The body movement caused the rope to stretch with a straining sound and the smelly aroma would spread over the his nostrils.

The room around him was dark, empty, and silent except for his pained grunts and the rope's strangled music. Fang wished to be back home, to be clothed and not naked inside all of that rope. It might be the end, but he'd fight as best he could.

His muscles grew tired, which was stranger to him than even the ominous silent empty room. That, too, seemed strange to Fang. Why wasn't he being interrogated to find the witness he had under his protection? Why did it have to be stupid silk rope instead of something easier like chains? He broke out of chains before. Even a few buddies back at the station would play a joke on the rookies and bet Fang could break out of handcuffs. The rookies usually were suckers and bet against the tiger.

Those days might be over if he didn't break out of the smelly, silky rope.

Fang started his struggles anew. The straining silk almost squeaked as his body twisted and turned at the force of his arms, trying to separate the coils that bound both ligaments behind his back. His heart pumped faster as he began to sweat. The open air ceased to help cool his body as it was warming up more every minute during his wasteful effort. The rope was too strong as it bound him tight and immobile, so much that he found no leverage in any of his movements.

After what felt like fifteen minutes of resisting the bindings with his thick muscles, the tiger collapsed forward on the ground, his abs and chest slapping against the hard basement floor. His fur felt sticky, a cause from his sweat and something else. As he panted for breath, his head swam like he was having a fever.

He needed a short breather before continuing with his escape. Then, maybe, he could finish off the rope with a little more force, and be free.

But Fang felt sleepy after a few minutes of his resting. The whole time he breathed in that aroma, somehow it intensified, and the tiger could swear his nostrils felt a little numb. Then all he could do was breath it. The world, his thoughts, faded and slipped like water between fingers leaving a wet memory. He had a vague idea of something horribly wrong.

The drowsy feline sobered some when the sound of an opening door reached his ears, making them perk slowly.

"W-who's there?" he said. His voice strange to his own ears. He sounded almost drugged up.

Footsteps echoed back to him in an orderly fashion, slow and steady, the only sound to answer him. The deep darkness past the little light bulb above him restricted his view of whoever was approaching. Once the sound came close enough, he saw a pair of white shoes and matching seamless pants. The tiger tried lifting his body to face his abductor properly but only lifted off the floor two inches before collapsing back down, making a long, weary groan.

"It's no use, Fang," a male voice said. The voice came from above those shoes, from the dense darkness. "You're in the final stages of your capture. Then, it will be time for the conditioning process." Fang had no idea what this psycho meant by 'conditioning process', but before he could think any further, his thoughts slipped away as if they never occurred and left a funny feeling, almost like deja'vu.

The whole time Fang struggled with his fleeting thoughts, the white-shoed villain continued speaking, only for the words to slip further and further away between the cracks of Fang's dwindling capacity. Something about relaxing, listening, but the tiger swore he already was doing that...

"You don't know why you're so relaxed but you do. You're calm so you can escape. You're listening intently, listening for details you could find valuable." Words ran past Fang's conscious mind so fast that it felt like spinning, confusing the thoughts trying to think about escape and listening more intently. He needed to concentrate, calm down, relax, listen, and escape. "Listening and relaxing."

Fang didn't notice the drool on his chin, but he did feel the sense of that sedated satisfaction. He stayed relaxed so the captor would lower his guard. He listened only so he could find something useful, some kind of information that he would need later, something important. The dark figure spoke more and more, with Fang listening intently. He struck a brilliant idea upon listening to the information. Sleeping would help, too, even if he didn't know why it helped. So he slept.

---

When Fang woke up, clueless to how long he'd been out, the basement came into full light upon his eyes opening. After his eyes adjusted, he noticed the crowd around him. All of them wore black suits with red ties, all except one. The dragon standing directly in front wore a white suit, matching the white scales of his body, and a black tie. All the other dragons that surrounded him had various shades of green scaly bodies. The prominent feature were the red eyes of the white dragon, who's white pants and shoes began to register in his groggy memory.

This was the Japanese mafia. Fang suspected this to be true before, and now he recognized a few of the big name faces around him, all except a few of the green dragons. And the white one. He never saw the white dragon before, but it went without saying that this one called the shots. This white dragon may be the very leader Fang protected his witness from.

He began watching for one of them to make a move, but they all stood very still. Each of them made smiles that made the tiger internally concerned but kept his hard exterior in place so not to give them the benefit of his fear. His eyes took them in, scanning over their suits, their shoulders, down to their hips, and felt a strange feeling when his glance hovered over their groins. He wasn't able to explain why he watched so carefully in that area. He usually looked at the eyes. The eyes were his strong point. It's why he became a cop.

"Look at you. Awake and fully aware in a matter of seconds," the white dragon spoke, voice familiar but Fang's attention drifted back to the many dragons. He chewed his lower lip as the strange heat crept up below, making him shiver in the strong bindings which enclosed his large muscular form. He reassured himself in his mind by saying those dragons probably weren't strong enough to take him in a fight if he were to get loose of this rope. Their naked bodies wouldn't stand a chance against him.

Fang blinked out of confusion by the strange direction his thoughts went. His concern intensified when he had to squeeze his legs together to tame a warm stirring below, finally noticing where the heat came from. He didn't know what to think of the feelings... His mind drifted to the smooth scales on their chests and how he desired to run his tongue over them. The imagined taste excited more than disgusted him, and he expected disgust. What the hell was going on? he thought.

"The look on your face tells me you are beginning to figure out a few new things about yourself."

He struggled against his bonds, not understanding the feelings inside. A few of the dragons laughed at his futile struggles. Their laughter only set him off in a fury of grunts and twists inside the confines of the rope. The lights added to the warmth of his exertion, and his body began to sweat and seep into the tight threads again. Shortly, that familiar, tangent aroma came back, and the dizzy confusion that left the tiger's head spinning quickly followed.

"You also might have noticed a peculiar smell around you," the white dragon said. "It's something that we like to call..." The dragon spoke some Japanese Fang couldn't comprehend. "It means Seductive Flower. The basic compound of the chemical you're smelling is derived from the Dragon Lillies of the West Hills, but that's not what's important right now."

No, Fang knew what was important. He needed to protect the whereabouts of Marny Dukes, the soul witness to the Mafia's underground slave trade. Even with that determination, his eyes continued to pick out the handsome qualities of those sexy dragons, wondering how their ball sacs weighed on his tongue. His observations fueled the embarrassing, intimate warmth burning between his legs.

He flexed his claws in desperation, knowing very well the rope couldn't be reached by them. He tried anyways. He tried harder, understanding he would lose if something wasn't done soon. He felt deep down in his cop intuition, time was running out.

"You want to know where Dukes is, don't you?" Fang asked, hoping to buy some time with talk. He found it difficult to speak as the heavy fog kept pulling on his thoughts. Not as much of a fog as it was the images of smooth, lean chest and abs, and what he wanted to do to them, distracting his mind. He growled internally at the treacherous mind.

"Actually, we have you, thanks to your boss."

"What?" How, he thought. They had to be bluffing.

"Well, the judicial police were clever enough, and trusting, to allow you to hide and be the only one to know where to find Marny Dukes. How is it... your captain could be so trusting with you?" Fang instantly flashed back to times of him and his captain, Shelly O'Neal, laughing over coffee most mornings and throwing back info on cases. His chest heaved with the biting memory of their countless instances of love-making before he was put in charge of protecting Marny. "Shelly was nice to us. The girl gave us all we needed to know about you."

Fang forgot the handsome dragons, who began undoing their ties together. The terror, pain, and confusion squeezed tight over his heart while his eyes closed tight. Hope drained from him with his emotions in a mess from what he just heard.

"You're a lair," Fang said, disappointed in the shaky tone of his voice.

"I'm afraid she's the liar in this scenario. Did you and her have plans last night?" The tiger gasped with eyes wide open. The conversation he and Shelly had before his abduction stuck out clearly in the haze of his mind. "Yes, I believe you did. And you showed up on time, just like we all planned."

Fang renewed his struggles, ignoring his sweat and the heady smell of the rope. It couldn't be a set up, he thought in defiance.

"You're lying!" The roaring words bounced in the confining basement, but no one seemed moved by them. He quickly shut his eyes again, feeling ashamed of his tears. With the comfort of his closed eyes, Fang sucked in an emotional breath that stunk with the sweet scent. It was so strong that he could taste the scent on his tongue. All the soreness in his muscles, the ache, the exhaustion... came down on him hard with his emotion making him vulnerable. That dizzy smell helped in a way.

He took in a deep breath, not to cool the anger but to take away the sadness. He got drunk off the second intake of air. He resented the aroma but couldn't help the way all his worries and problems went away with each conscious thought.

"No, kitty..." the white dragon said. "She lied. Women lie, don't you remember?"

Fang's brows furrowed at the strange way those words made sense. It sounded true. A familiar understanding floated around in his subconscious. It certainly made more sense as his eyes opened slowly to delight in the sight of the dragons around him, stripped of all their clothing and standing nude. It made sense when he was so hard from the mere sight of their bodies and the internal thoughts of what he would like to do with them, his eyes catching the sight of their free hanging genitals.

Starring down at the ground, he realized he forgot why he was angry. He couldn't fight through the haze to find the anger. He suddenly wondered why the dragon called him "kitty". Worry throbbed in the back of his dull mind as those thoughts became fleeting again.

"You can trust a man, though," the dragon continued saying. He pulled off his red tie and pealed the shoulders of his coat off. "Men don't lie... at least, I don't. You believe everything I tell you, don't you?"

Fang opened his eyes to look incredulously at the dragon, who already started unbuttoning the front of his shirt. The tiger couldn't believe how true the words rang in his ears. He didn't want to believe, but who else was left? Shelly betrayed him. Women lie. And the dragons, so hot in their nudity and showing such dominance through their intense stares aimed at him, they could be trusted.

"You believe you can trust us, don't you?"

"...n..no..." Fang replied with a fearful and strangled sound. It was so hard to openly deny the truth, and the truth was that he trusted these dragons and believed all the white dragon said. "I can't. You... you did something." But he couldn't remember what it was anymore.

"Are you sure? No. We didn't do anything to you except tie you up. That's why you're here, anyways. You simply forgot why you came here."

"Stop it!" Fang shut his eyes and tried to block the words invading his mind. He couldn't remember why he was here, only that they tied him up. He didn't want to ask, but something inside him needed to know. The desire to have his memory back was too strong. He wanted to remember. "Why did you tie me up?" His eyes opened and pleaded with the dragon to answer, who threw his shirt to the side after unbuttoning it.

"Silly kitty, you came over to fuck. You asked us to tie you up and have our way with you."

So much of what the dragon said sounded wrong to Fang, but believing it somehow made the fear and the aroma of the rope better. He never recalled being into bondage, but he needed some remnant of memory... anything would be better than no memories. The nagging in his mind tried to warn him of the dragon's words. Then, again, his hard shaft made better proof than any other explanation. The dragon finally smiled and took notice of the jutting feline's appendage.

"Ready to play, kitty?"

"I... I don't think so... I'd like to leave." Fang hated feeling weak as his ears folded down, but the dragons could easily have their way with him no matter what he wanted. He scanned the group, and finally noticed they all sported similarly hard shafts or were rubbing them up to arousal. They were ready to play.

"You are ready. You can just let your cock do the thinking. That's how you usually act."

"What? No... I... do?" Again, he lost conviction when the words felt so true.

"Yes. Ask it what you want. Right now. Do it." The dragon smiled more.

Fang looked down at his thick cock, blushing furiously but unable to stop himself from asking the question.

"W-what do you want?" The arousal that accompanied his question was incomparable to the mild attraction he felt for all the naked dragons around him. He never knew such pleasure could come from... obedience. The tiger lifted his head to see the white dragon holding up his own large shaft, larger than any of the others. The length and thickness were intimidating to Fang's eyes but exciting to his imagination. His paws gripped with the need to run over the white dragon's body and hold the heavy length in his palms. The utter desire to let the white dragon have his way with the feline's body proved why Fang was here. "I'm ready."

"That's good, because so am I..."

With that, the white dragon walked up and pressed his length over the kitty's mouth, who lapped and kissed at the meat running over his lips. Fang's mind spun once the taste of the dragon's cock enveloped his senses. The tiger worked with difficulty trying to stuff the head of the dragon's cock down against his throat but enjoyed trying. His own cock drooled on to the floor with its arousal and aching need.

The white dragon shoved into the wanting mouth, grunting and breathing heavily as his need built. The tiger's mouth brought pleasure to him, and the power of corrupting fueled the dragon's ego. He shoved harder, knowing the tiger wouldn't care if he choked on the dragon's dick or that he'd been subjected to a whore. The dragon's tongue hung out of his snout as his breathing and force escalated.

"Uhnnf... that's it, kitty..." the dragon growled and panted. He quickly jabbed himself down into the waiting mouth, which only took up half the massive length and girth. He grunted louder before letting out a soft cry of relief. The massive sized prick flooded Fang's open mouth and poured over, down the tiger's furred chest.

Fang coughed and gagged heavily as the seed overwhelmed him. He gasped for breath through his nose, tears streaking down his face. Once the cock pulled free of his mouth and some of his throat, he discovered air refreshing and welcome.

The white dragon let the deflated length hang low, dripping with sticky strings. He had a hand on his hip and showed a proud grin of victory.

"Swallow, kitty." Fang gulped and breathed desperately for more air. "You'll get used to it by the end of tonight, trust me." The dragon leaned down and pulled up the tiger's chin with the claw of his index finger, aware of the messy dribble of cum accumulating at the tiger's chin. "You really seemed to enjoy that..." Fang gave a dopey smile as his eyes looked upon the dominant figure with dazed adoration, breathing with the musk of cum on his breath. The tiger couldn't think of anything better than taking another load in his mouth and down his chest. He learned of the implemented homoerotic thoughts much too late. The same as the dragon's unchallenged logic. He never stood a chance after he blacked out from the soothing words and aroma, the first time.

"We're missing someone from our little gang bang, kitty..." the dragon continued. Fang showed concerned and confusion over this. More would be so much better, who could possibly be missing this? "Maybe you can tell us where Marny is?"

Fang thought about the question for a second.

"He's on Anderson's St., 2893, apartment 32... when will he be here?" The dragon smiled.

"Shortly, Fang... my friends will keep you company in the mean time..."

"Okay..." Fang felt relieved. Marny would be joining in shortly. "Don't be long, okay?"

"Okay, kitty."

With that, the dragon turned and began walking away. The green dragon next in the circle looked at the white-scaled leader.

"What do we do with him after we're done?" the green dragon asked with a smirk.

"Sell him to the bath houses back home. He will fit in well with them... he has much skill." The green dragon nodded and walked towards the tiger, who grew excited by another naked male approaching. Fang's excitement intensified when the whole circle narrowed in on him almost simultaneously. The group of dragons did a little organizing before they began filling the tiger's mouth, some simply jerked off into his open muzzle or on his face. A few managed to tie the tiger on the above beam to stuff two of their throbbing lengths up the tiger's tailhole. Fang knew deep down... in the deep surrender, that his ass would be sore for a week... but it wouldn't matter. He needed to be fucked so he could forget about whatever happened before, whatever it was; it went away once he concentrated on cleaning their spent shafts.