FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Flying down a long stretch of road on his motorcycle, Max let his instincts guide him around the deserted asphalt turns as his mind mulled over the latest in what was turning out to be a long string of arguments with his girlfriend. It wasn't just the accusations she had thrown in his face (too much drinking, too little time at home), it was the venomous tone the fox had adopted as she recounted his perceived failings.

Today was their one year anniversary, and the dragon had sat there and put up with the one-sided verbal sparring as long as he could. But when he felt his temper begin to boil over, he cut off her latest rant mid-sentence with a few choice unkind words and headed out the front door, only to rev up his bike just as she followed him outside. By now she was practically screaming to overcome the reverberations of the engine. And in full view of the neighbors, no less.

Partly out of his desire to deescalate the situation before it got well and truly out of hand and partly out of his habit of getting out on the open road when things got too stressful, Max peeled out of the gravel driveway as his girl called out another one of her "final" ultimatums.

It was nothing the dragon hadn't heard in similar arguments over the last two or three months, and, mercifully, within a few seconds he was no longer able to see either his rundown, leased house or the furious vulpine in his rear-view mirror.

Now it was just him and the road, which suited Max just fine.

With no real destination in mind, the large framed dragon directed his bike towards one of the several neighboring towns. A quiet, low-tempo sort of place that was just far enough away to allow him two or three hours of shouting-match free calming meditation and contemplation. Plus, at this time of night with the sun-setting there wouldn't be much, if any, traffic down this particular bit of country road. He'd have the whole length of highway all to himself.

Not even caring that he'd left both his cellphone and his helmet back on the kitchen counter, Max let his mind wander over the possibility of falling back on his old habits and just riding until he found some place that looked interesting, and then tracking down some mechanic work and a tiny cheap apartment. No nine-to-five, no girl, and, even better, no paying off her ridiculous credit card bills.

The black-scaled dragon wasn't sure yet if this was just self-indulgent fantasy or a viable life-choice, but either way, it was sure great to just imagine letting go of all of his troubles and starting fresh... just him and his bike.

But even as he grinned toothily into the still-balmy night air, a small part of him couldn't help but consider what he'd be giving up. Yes, his girl could get condescending and downright bitchy at times, but that same passion made her a blast to be around when she was in a good mood. Which, admittedly, had become less and less frequent over the last few months.

She was also an animal in the sack. The way she kissed him. The way she smiled up at him and winked as she pushed her hand through his jeans' zipper while on her knees. The way she screamed out how big and strong he was while he used his thick meat to spear and spread her folds.

Even the handful of times the two of them had been on the rocks, just about to break up and call it quits for good, the inevitable make up sex had been truly spectacular. One time he'd blew up at her after getting her latest online shopping spree bill in the mail. The only reason the dragon still remembered that particular fight so vividly was that later she'd gave him the best blowjob of his life. And after twenty minutes of worshiping his sensitive rod with her lips and tongue, he finally blew a massive, earth-shattering orgasm into her waiting mouth. Then, in a mental image he'd hold onto for the rest of his life, he saw her do something that still sent chills of sexual pleasure down his spine.

Tilting her head back, the beautiful fox open her jaws wide, allowing Max to see the thick serving of dragon cum that was pooled there, covering her teeth and drenching the entire surface of her pink tongue. It was clear that she hadn't swallowed a single drop yet. Taking things a step further, she used her left hand to hold the base of his steel-hard cock and her right to milk the last dregs of cum out of his shaft and into her waiting, stretched-wide mouth.

After a few second of quiet moaning on her part, he realized that she was waiting for his permission to swallow. This wholly unexpected act of submission on her part reignited his already raging libido. Making sure she knew to stay on her knees with her mouth open and without swallowing, the dragon walked her through jerking him off to a second climax, being sure to direct the stream of his seed between her spread lips.

Already overly-full with his potent jizz, it would be an understatement to say that she wasn't able to gracefully cope with the latest thick spurts from his ebony length. Instead, it ran over, flowing down her chin and onto her perky breasts. When he finally did allow her to swallow his musky cream, Max made sure she did it oh-so-very slowly, so that the fox could fully appreciate each and every drop of his masculine seed.

By the time the night was through, he made sure she licked every inch of his pole clean (even though her jaws had to have been pretty sore by that point) and that she'd thanked him for the privilege.

Then he fucked her brains out until she'd climaxed at least twice as many times as he had. Fairs fair, after all.

But as great as things were when things were going well, there was a very large part of the dragon that made him long for the wilder days of his youth. The biker gang he moved around with and all the ridiculous shenanigans they'd gotten into. The summer he lived near the beach resort and repaired jet skis for pocket money, while fucking rich guy's bored and lonely wives. And that year he shacked up with those two husky twin girls who were freshman in college, virgins, and away from their parents for the first time. Needless to say, neither of them stayed virgin for very long.

Damn that had been a great year.

The truth of the matter was, the biker had just plain enjoyed life more back when he didn't let himself get too tied down. Back when he went wherever the wind and his bike took him. Back before his current full time job as a mechanic, and before he'd shacked up with his girlfriend.

Nowadays he had his signature on a lease, all sorts of bills in his name, and obligations coming out of his ears. So, unsurprisingly there had recently been a few days where he'd felt like blowing everything off and getting back to his roots: wild and free.

He'd miss his girl if he cut and ran, sure, but sometimes that was the price you paid. Besides, she was too domesticated to join him on the road. And it was easier to feed one mouth than two when you weren't sure where your next payday was going to come from.

But then again... he'd have to give up that pussy of hers. Fuck, the decision was wrenching him in two different directions. True, his day to day life might not be as exciting as it once was, but getting woken with a blowjob and getting ridden hard and hot by his babe at night before falling asleep all in the same day had its own unique appeal.

After giving it some serious thought for a few minutes and several miles, Max figured he'd just put off the decision a little longer. There was no rush, after all. The open road would always be there for him, calling to him like a mythological siren. He'd probably head home later tonight, make a couple half-hearted apologies, and then let his dick do the rest of talking.

Between the strong vibrations of the bike and his lewd recollections of the mental highlight reel he'd accumulated over the years, mentally the biker was more focused on how delicious the make up sex would be after this latest blowout between him and girl than on the highway he was making his way down.

Cutting off his train of thought, Max abruptly came up to an incident blocking both the right lane and the shoulder. Slamming on his breaks at the last minute, he got so close that he could clearly make out the faces of the people who stood around near the back of two eighteen-wheelers trucks that had pulled up parallel to each other.

As the dragon took in the scene, he realized that something truly odd was happening here. In a long moment of drawn out silence, punctuated only by the sounds of his idling motorcycle engine, Max saw all faces turned towards him. And he, still seated on his ride, in turn looked right back.

A mental-second later, the winged dragon realized what he was looking at. A prisoner exchange. It was fairly obvious once you put the pieces together. Two huge trucks, one with steam wafting up from a popped-up hood. Several men in uniforms, strapped with firearms and holding taser guns or shock batons. A dozen or so men in orange jumpsuits being escorted out of the damaged truck and into the other, their arms bound behind their backs and plastic masks covering the lower portion of their faces. Even more prisoners had already been transferred and locked down into sturdy looking seats inside the trailer of the second truck.

But with Max's unannounced arrival, all activity had stopped. Everyone froze as they worked out how to handle the situation.

Just as the dragon was about to apologize for startling them and continue on his way, instead it was a prisoner who acted first. Not yet secured into his seat in the second truck, an otter broke off from the pack, knocking a guard to the ground from behind with his shoulder as he ran. Immediately after, the rest of the remaining unseated prisoners made a break for it, each charging off in a different direction.

Many were immediately tasered or tackled by the guards, but the few ones who managed to make it more than a few feet were running towards the thick brush as quickly as their legs could carry them.

Immediately Max experienced a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He'd unintentionally served as the perfect distraction for these prisoners to try and escape. Who the hell knew what these men were in for. They could be extremely dangerous or worse. Murderers and psychopaths. And if they managed to get away, anything they did while on the lam would be his fault.

Knowing he had to act to make things right, Max revved up his engine and pursued the closest runner, knocking the otter to the rough asphalt with an elbow to the back as he drove by. Seeing a guard closing in on the orange-dressed in-mate, the dragon picked a new target. One that was getting worryingly close to the edge of the brush.

Gunning it as hard as he dared, in a just a few seconds the buff, black-scaled dragon caught up to the fast-footed hare. Practically leaping off his bike to tackle the man, Max was grateful that the prisoner's arms were bound, as the desperate man (boy, really, now that the biker could see his face up close) was doing everything in his power to struggle and fight back.

Realizing that there was no way to get the white-haired hare to cooperate, Max instantly gave up on the idea of driving the two them back to the truck, and instead used his superior strength to force the uniformed prisoner to walk.

Blood pressure spiked and adrenaline pumping, the dragon wasn't too terribly patient with his charge, ordering the boy to, "Get to walking, asshole. Try that shit again and see if you don't get my boot up your ass. Just do your time like everyone else, aye? You're just gonna make things worse for yourself by trying to run."

Hearing this, the rabbit apparently strongly disagreed as he tried to arguing back and shaking his head back and forth. But the lower face-plate prevented him from communicating effectively, muffling the boy's words into nonsensical syllables. The hare's eyes, on the other hand, were incredibly expressive. Looking back over his shoulder towards Max, who was pushing him from behind, he shot the dragon the best "poor me" look the leather-jacket-donning biker had ever seen.

The young man kept on trying to talk through the muzzle, even going so far as to use his shoulder and some body language to indicate that he wanted the dragon to help remove his gag. Max decided to pretend he had no idea what the lad was trying to get at and made sure to keep him moving forward.

It was clear the boy was scared and more than a little distraught. Feeling a bit sorry for him, the dragon tried to ease the prisoners nerves, if only just a bit.

Still forcing the lad back towards the truck as a guard hoofed it over to meet them, Max took a calming breath and explained, "Look, you're young enough, yeah? And you don't look like the dangerous sort. I'm sure this prison term is just a minor setback. Young-and-dumb and all that, right? You'll do just fine, and lead a long, happy life in the end. Just follow instructions and stop pulling dumb stunts like this. Serve your time, pay your dues to society, and get out soon with good behavior. It's that simple, yeah?"

For some reason, though, this seemed to have the opposite effect. The youth was now more desperate than ever to communicate with his captor, trying to talk through the gag even though such an act was clearly pointless and futile. And as one of the guards (a horse) caught up to the pair, the dragon thought that perhaps now the kid had tears in his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Calling out the officer, Max said, "Hey, sir. Sorry for causing y'all so much trouble. I snagged this one for ya, before he could make it off into the wilderness."

Noticing that the transport guard was eyeing him warily, the horse eventually said, "Yeah, thanks. Go ahead and walk him this way, would ya. We need to get him to the truck and then do a headcount. We're already behind schedule and we can't afford to stay out in the open any longer."

Believing he understood the man's meaning, the dragon nodded and said, "Oh yeah, guess that puts you guys at risk for an external break-out attempt, yeah? Gang members and the like trying to spring mates."

Still keeping his eye on the dragon and keeping a hand on the grip of his stun baton, the horse grunted and said, "Umm, yeah, pretty much. This way. Almost there."

But as they arrived to the back of the two trailers, Max started to feel on edge as his instincts told him something wasn't right. First there were subtle signs, like guards roughing up and tasering the prisoners who had run even though they had already been re-secured into their new seats. Entirely defenseless, the dragon watched a lion get repeatedly tasered in the stomach by a officer who was cursing up a storm at him.

Eyes scanning the back of the truck, the biker spotted the otter, who had been the first to run and who had triggered the stampede by the other prisoners. Also strapped firmly into his chair, Max realized that one of the guards had unzipped the youth's pants and extracted his tackle. Part of the dragon's mind realized that the horse was now speaking to him, but the biker's attention was fully focused on the fact that the guard molesting the otter was now bringing the tip of shock-baton towards the prisoner's exposed sack.

Fighting against his bindings, there was nothing the orange-suited prisoner could do and a split second later he was writhing and screaming in pain and terror as thousands of volts of electricity were applied directly to his tender unit.

In the next instant, Max keyed into several things. First, was that the rabbit he'd been escorting was still looking at him, but now his expression wasn't just fear and frustration. The look he was giving the biker was now one of pity and powerful regret. The next realization was that that horse guard who had been standing next to him was now pressing a shock-baton against his neck.

The last thing the dragon picked up on before the taser discharged, forcing him into a painful unconsciousness was that not a single one of the guards had been wearing a badge or any form of identification.

Mercifully, he passed out quickly.

---

For Max, consciousness returned excruciatingly slowly at first, and then rapidly. Recalling a jumbled mess of memories from the last few minutes before he'd been knocked unconscious, the dragon picked his previously limp head off from his chest and looked around.

Looking to his left and right in near panic, the biker realized that he was seated alongside the rest of the prisoners. Equally bad, he was now donning an orange jumpsuit, just like the rest of them and also the half-face mask over his muzzle, this one apparently customized for dragons.

As much as he wanted to create a ruckus and demand answers, Max quickly thought better of it. He didn't want to call any attention at all to himself until he figured out what was going on here.

Looking around for clues that would shed some light on the situation, the biker was deeply troubled by what he saw. While he himself was in his late twenties, all of the prisoners around him had to have been in the age range of sixteen to twenty-one. They were hardly more than kids.

Even worse, seated directly in front of him on the other side of trailer was the otter who had caused all this trouble in the first place. Apparently having decided they weren't finished punishing him for that infraction, Max saw that the boy's now-swollen testicles were still exposed outside of his zipper. Only now there was a small leather shackle at the base of his scrotum... and hanging from it was what looked to be a ten pound weight, hanging off the edge of his seat and into the air. The pained look on the boy's face spoke towards the fact that he'd been dealing with this latest torment for a while now

But even if the otter had gotten the worst of the guards' ire, apparently there had still been plenty of punishment to go around. The dragon also spotted several lads just within his eyeline that had been equipped with glass pressure plates around their own extracted ball sacks.

Max only happened to know what those devices were by mere coincidence. Several months earlier his girlfriend had shown him a page online that was dedicated to buff, studly dragons (much like himself) who allowed these devices to be placed on themselves and then filmed or photographed. If the biker recalled correctly, the page had been titled "Dragons' Jewels" and was a kink site that focused on several highlights, including role-reversal for typically dominant dragons and light cock-and-ball-torture.

His girl had tried to persuade him that it'd be fun if they tried out some of the things depicted on the site and then took and submitted their amateur photos. Max was sure to explain to her with great clarity that this was never, ever going to happen. Predictably, she'd pouted and whined endlessly at the time until he softened his position ever-so-slightly and allowed the vulpine to lightly (very, very lightly!) chew on his eggs that night. No cameras, though.

And now he was seeing these devices in action, in the flesh. Apparently each of the other runners was going through their own private hell as their sacks were mashed flat and their balls compressed far past the point of comfort. They didn't look quite as distressed as the otter did, so apparently this was a lesser punishment than the initial runner was being subjected too. But not by much, Max figured.

Since the plates squeezing their testicles were entirely transparent, the biker got an unobstructed view of what the device was doing to the bull who was seated across the aisle and a few feet to the right. Equipped with the huge sack that is typical of bovines, the young bull donned an equally large set of compression plates. Trapped between them were his impressive pair, which were far larger than Max's own. The mechanic's tender eggs also happened to lay external from his body due to the particular line of dragon-kin he descended from.

The biker could hardly believe how far they'd managed to tighten the screws on the bull's compression plate. The bovine's squashed nuts looked more akin to hockey pucks than their typical lemon-ishq shape and size.

The dragon forced himself to look away, since there was nothing he could do for the poor soul. And then, with that thought, it occurred to him what the young bunny had been trying to tell him through his muzzle. They weren't trying to escape from jail... they were trying to escape from... from this. Whatever "this" was.

For the next thirty minutes they rode in relative silence, interrupted only by the occasional muffled, pained moaning of those had been brave or stupid enough to have attempted to escape. Max spent the time trying to decide how he was going to handle the situation, and trying to plot an escape plan. Troublingly, no solutions to his predicament were immediately jumping to mind.

This period of quiet contemplation was brought to a conclusion when the horse "guard" who had tasered him earlier walked by and stopped in front the dragon. Turning to face him and looking down from his standing position, the man said, "Wrong place, wrong time, bud. You had pretty bad luck back there for sure. But here... I'll do ya a couple favors for helping me track down that last escapee. First, some advice. I'm sure you have a ton of questions, and probably even some stupid-ass demands. Well, my advice is to keep them to yourself. It's all been said before and it has never made a lick of difference. Plus, it'll only get you into trouble. Just keep silent and follow instructions. Which brings me to my second favor. I'm going to get hard, rub my junk over your face for a few minutes, then slap you around with my horse cock for a bit."

Despite the guard's first bit of advice, Max found himself suddenly struggling to get out of his chair while simultaneously attempted to talk back to the guard. But just as with the otter, he had absolutely zero success on either count. These chairs had clearly been well engineered for their purpose.

Continuing on, the horse calmly stated, "Yeah yeah, I know what you're trying to say. 'How is slapping me around with your dick suppose to be a favor?'. Well, this is about the gentlest introduction to slavery anyone has ever gotten, so consider yourself lucky. You need to understand that you no longer get to set the bounds of your personal space. Free people do. Trainers do. Guards do. Your eventual Master does. Basically, anyone and everyone but you. Usually this is a particularly painful first lesson. Instead, you lucked out because I'm going to get you to understand your new place in life with just my nice, harmless mare-stuffer. No muss, no fuss, no pain. Just you and my big ol' cock. Sound good?"

None of this sounded good to the biker. In fact, it sounded just plain crazy. Slavery? New place in life? Masters and Trainers? Huh?! Just what the fuck was this loon going on about! Max continued to fight against the straps holding him in place, but he wearing himself down far faster than he was wearing out the bindings.

For his part, the guard didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the dragon's ineffective display of defiance. He simply said, "Okay, don't look away now. It's important that you always pay attention to what's going on in front of you." as he unzipped and pulled his mostly flaccid pole out into the open from his black slacks. The biker immediately tried to pull back and turn his head to the side to get away, but he immediately found that all of a sudden couldn't move his head even an inch anymore. The seat had somehow locked the back side of his muzzle in place, forcing his head to point forward.

"Okay, bud, here it is. I have no idea if you're gay, straight, or whatever, but you should know that really doesn't matter anymore. Your sexuality is what your Master tells you it is. Understand? But on the off chance that this is your first time going face-to-face with another man's pride, you should make the most out of this opportunity and try to get use to it. Here... let's start out by having you get use to the smell."

Seeing the plump, if still soft, tackle getting pushed closer towards his face (not to mention nostrils), Max instinctively started breathing out of just his mouth. He'd seen plenty of naked guys in gym showers over the years, but he'd never gone for any of this gay stuff. Despite having been hit on by other men pretty regularly over the years. It just had never interested him. But this horse here... he wasn't asking Max's permission or trying to flirt with him. He was demanding and telling the biker how it was going to be. It nearly made the dragon's vision tint red to be violated in this way.

But even breathing through wholly through mouth, Max couldn't help but get a waft of the musky odor as the horse pressed the blunt tip of his member against the front of the kidnapped biker's muzzle. It assaulted his nostrils and came off as earthy, musky, and very masculine. Just then, he wished he was going down on his girl's delicious, tight snatch, rather than be forced to put up with this lunatic.

Seeing that he had the dragon's full attention, the guard spoke and said, "Later, when you're better trained, this is where you'd put that muzzle of yours to work to get me fully hard and ready for some more fun. But there's no way that any free man would be dumb enough to put their prick anywhere near the unrestrained mouth of an untrained slave, so this time I'll get it up and hard myself. Keep watching, though. This is my cock's favorite trick, and it loves showing it off."

Sure enough, to the kidnapped mechanic's great dismay, the horse's mottled-colored flesh elongated and firmed up, mere inches away from Max's face. And occasionally, as the guard jerked his meat roughly back and forth, it bobbed around and the tip made contact with the biker's exposed flesh, making him recoil internally. Moments later this escalated suddenly as the man used a grip at the base of his cock to rub his meat all over the angry dragon's face.

Just then, Max noticed that he had the attention of all bound and seated prisoners within eyesight. Those that were within range to do so were listening or watching as the guard has his way with the new prisoner. This bothered the biker more than he would admit. Not only was he being messed with and sexually assaulted, but this was all happening publicly with plenty of witnesses who were all silently observing his degradation.

Most of the eyes pointed his way had either pity or empathy behind them, but Max caught the look of this one kangaroo who almost seemed to be smiling behind his muzzle. Even beyond that, the dragon could see the kangaroo had thrown a sizable boner, his erection visibly outlined by the tight orange jumpsuit. The jerk was getting off on what the guard was doing to him!

"Now, do you see how I'm doing you a favor? If we were back at the facility, you'd already have a sucker's muzzle strapped on between your teeth and your fifth cock jammed down your throat. Instead, you get the equivalent of a candle light dinner, with just you and my mare-buster. Nice, slow, and intimate, yeah? Look, you guys are practically dancing now. Back and forth.... baaack and forth. See? Now when your first Trainer pushes his dick between your gagged lips, you'll be much better prepared for it."

If Max could, just then he'd of bitten off the prick's prick, damn the consequences. Instead, he was forced to bear it as the guard's prick began leaking and smearing precum all over his face. The sticky substance smelled nothing like the juices his spit-fire fox squirted, and offended his masculinity and free-person sensibilities immensely.

True, there were more than a few times that the biker had done something similar to this to his girlfriend in the past, but that was different. It was a privilege and an honor for a young, sexy female fox to have her facial fur matted in copious dragon seed and pre-cum. But what the horse was doing was crass, disgusting, and unforgivable. Especially since the horse's cock was somewhat bigger than his own. That just made the humiliation even worse.

Looking up at the man's expression, Max felt his own face flush with shame and resentment when he realized that the horse was smiling fondly down at him. As if he were the man's new favorite pet.

"I really wish I could be the first person to feed you a fresh batch of free-man seed, but there's some stuff that I have to take care of. God damn escape attempt. So much freaking paper work that has to get typed out, then encrypted, then uploaded, then the local files deleted and wiped. It's a huge pain, you know? Instead, you'll just have to settle for a few gentle dick slaps to get you use to accepting your new lot. Okay bud, keep your eye on the birdy."

Even seeing the man take a half-step back and use his grip at the base of his length to pull his fully-hard and dripping cock back a bit, Max was still caught off guard by the sheer force the guard put into the swing that came only moments later. Impacting the side of his face with a wet thud, the biker almost saw stars as the horse was already readying his veined-tube for a second blow.

Again and again the horse slapped the dragon's immobilized face with his leaky meat, seemingly as hard as the guard could manage without hurting himself. After a dozen or so semi-painful swats to the face with the baton-wielding man's pride, Max realized that the guard had been lying when he said there'd only be a "few gentle" dick slaps. The biker picked up on the fact that the man was breathing harder, and seemingly enjoying himself. He was getting off on this, in a big way.

Twenty or twenty-five slaps in (the biker wasn't exactly endeavoring to keep track, instead focused on ignoring or blocking out this embarrassment), the guard's "mare-buster" began sloshing around a silly amount of pre-cum. Suddenly Max realized what was coming.

Sure enough, a good many cock-slaps later, the guard began groaning out his pleasure. At this point he stopped beating Max's face with his horse cock and instead directed the flared head directly at the kidnapped dragon's face. Spurt after spurt of jizz coated the muzzled victims face, until he was forced to close his eyes, not willing to risk them being stung from the musky irritant.

After a lengthy orgasm that seemed to just go on and on (from Max's perspective, at least), the horse took a few second to catch his breath. During this time, he used the biker's new orange jumpsuit to clean off his softening shaft. The biker couldn't see it, but he certainly felt it.

He didn't think he could get more pissed off, and yet the man always seemed to have one more humiliation for him to endure.

"Whew, look at you, drenched in cum. What a little biker-whore you've managed to become. And in such a short time, too. You're welcome, slut."

Even blind, Max tried to snarl through the gag, only to be thwarted yet again.

"Well, back to work. I'll be sure to track you down again once you've gotten some training under your belt. We will do this again, but next time you'll beg me for the privilege, and then thank me afterwards. You can count on that. The Trainers at the facility are the best at what they do."

Unable to see, it took a minute or two of silence for the dragon to accept that the guard had finally let him be. The only good thing about not being able to look around was that the biker didn't have to acknowledge or address the looks of the other prisoners. Especially that smirking, horned-up kangaroo.

He had no idea where they were going, how long it would take to get there, or what would happen to him once they arrived. But Max did know one thing: If they thought he was going to roll over for them like some subby bitch, they were in for a big surprise. He'd do more than simply escape. He'd get revenge.

The dragon spent the rest of the ride trying to ignore the cooling sperm covering his face while imagining all the ways that he was going to make these fuckers pay for crossing him. He also imagined all the ways he was going to fuck his girlfriend when he got back to her -- just like the hetero dragon stud he was.