Truth and Consequences I
Truth and Consequences I
by ArosLion
Robert Smith washed his hands diligently.
The bear stood over the sink, his back hunched as he leaned down to make sure every inch was clean. He was thorough and patient. He was never sure why he washed his hands for so long. In the back of his mind, it was as if he could wash away everything he ever did with them. As if they would be a brand new pair of hands at the end of the process.
But as Robert Smith toweled off his hands, they were the same brown fur-covered hands as before, but smelled lightly of lemon. He looked in the mirror of the bathroom, deep black eyes staring back at him from behind a face with grey around the edges, framed by a pair of round spectacles.
Smith walked downstairs into the kitchen, to prepare his breakfast. He was dressed in his favorite blue and white striped seersucker shirt, but would never smile about it. Shirts were not something to smile about. The bread popped from the toaster and he immediaetly spread grape jelly on one side of each. He placed an extra napkin at his neck to protect the shirt from a jelly mishap. It was all a part of the routine.
His doorbell rang.
No one had ever come to see him this early. His toast interrupted, he moved to the front door of his home to answer it. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard the distinct sound of squealing tires. But by the time he had opened the door and adjusted his eyes to the morning brightness, there was only yesterday's mail, which he forgot to pick up. He slipped his hand inside the mailbox, gathering the envelopes and resumed his breakfast, looking through the pile.
One was a check from the army. It was surely packed with that same letter thanking him for his services and telling him it's a pleasure to provide him with the money to cover living costs. He almost felt ashamed, being 35 and retired. It didn't bother him too much, though. He spent much of his time volunteering at the mental hospital uptown, providing expertise and occasionally therapy.
The second was his mortgage bill on the house. Smith had once expected to settle down in the home, but at that point he only felt like a waste of space. It would be better to move closer to the hospital in a condo or apartment.
The third was junk mail, advertising the latest couples wanting to adopt as well as ways to penny pinch at the local market. He had interest in neither. Children were too weak and fragile to really interest him.
The last was an unmarked envelope. Sealed with glue, it offered nothing as to who might have put it in his box. No postage, no return address, just the name "R. Smith" on the front. He left the last bite of toast on his plate to slide his claw along the top, opening the envelope.
Inside was a piece of blank white paper, with words glued to it, which read:
"Mister Smith. you will Meet my demandS or i will share these PICtures with some media OutletS. i Want you to train for me 1 slave that Will obey my commands. i will give detailS later."
Dreading what he was about to see, he found three photographs in the envelope as well.
One was a picture of himself and one other in a profile view. He was sitting across from a wolf that looked extremely tired, with headphones and a blindfold on. The picture was dated about 5 years previous. The next one showed the wolf staring blankly and holding a ball, wires attached to his head to monitor brain activity, with Smith in the background taking notes on a clipboard.
The pictures were harmless if not accompanied by the last one. It was the same room as the other two, but showed two dead bodies laying in pools of blood on the floor, neither of them Smith. And very clearly showed the wolf jumping out of the only window in the room after having broken the glass.
The bear sat frozen in the chair. He remembered that day, of course. The last day before he retired. The letter with his check always thanked him for his cooperation, but never mentioning what for. He knew though, that it was talking about that day.
It was an accident. It was not his fault, but these pictures made him look like the fiend behind the tragedy. Even if he was proven innocent, he'd still have no more money from the Army, and he would never be able to find a job. Who, after all, would hire someone responsible for two apparent murders?
He knew he had to comply. Almost without thinking, he called the hospital and said he wouldn't be able to make it in due to a bad head cold, all the while brainstorming in the back of his mind of where he could find someone to train.
He couldn't just abduct a random stranger. He needed someone that wouldn't be noticed if they disappeared. He needed someone desperate to live. Someone who had no options left.
With one look at his change jar on the counter, he knew exactly where to go.
Damien sat against the wall of one of the older pubs downtown, and checked the time on the modest clock tower a few blocks down.
The tiger knew that the matinee would be letting out soon. While the tickets were too expensive to have forced any patrons to get out a wad of cash, the refreshments would have left their pockets jingling. Maybe one would actually feel generous and give him enough for a whole day's worth of food.
The theater's doors opened and hundreds of people started flooding outward, most in his direction. He was confident that he'd get more sympathy than the others around him. Their clothes were too nice to be truly beggars, and he saw one of them park a car a few blocks away. They were liars, but he was desperate. He was lean, malnourished, and mangy. He would make an effort to clean himself up if it didn't help him eat.
"Spare Change?" He said, many times to the theatergoers moving past him, lifting a coffee mug he had been given once, a few years ago. He was younger than he looked, in his early twenties, but could be mistaken for a middle-aged tiger from his dirty appearance.
A few coins fell into the mug, clinking and rattling noisily, adding to the empty feeling inside. It all had gone so wrong for him, but in a way, he didn't regret it. He just wanted to escape what he was in now, this cage of homelessness, trapped in a city and forced to beg for scraps and coins. As he thought about it, he stopped asking for money and stared out into the distance.
Damien blinked a few times when he realized that he was being watched. Standing on the other side of the street and staring either at him or the pub he was leaning against was a bear in a large jacket. His hands were in his pockets, and his stance was wide.
The tiger was curious. What kind of man was this? Was he the pub owner, angry that so many beggars were loitering outside? Was he a theatergoer standing and waiting for friends to come outside?
No matter what he was, the bear was still giving him more attention than he had received in months, probably years.
As the crowd thinned, Damien took a look at his mug. It was mostly pennies and nickels, and the mug was half empty. There was no half full in his life. He looked back up to see the bear again.
But he was gone.
A voice next to him said. "Give me some privacy." It was quiet but deep. Damien turned his head and saw the bear handing the only other beggar a twenty. "Sure man," came the reply and the beggar stood up and drunkenly swaggered away.
The tiger simply watched as the bear approached him, standing inches from his slouched figure. He was a little jealous of the other one. He wanted that money. He needed that money.
"Mind if I sit with you for a bit?" The bear asked politely. Shocked, and a little confused, Damien answered.
"Sure." And with that, the bear almost came crashing down. Tall, large, but not graceful, the tiger noted. But he managed to sit in the same position as Damien.
"Any luck with the white-collars?" The bear asked. "They can be pretty stingy."
Damien looked at his mug again. "A little. I have enough for tonight and maybe tomorrow." He smiled, hoping the bear would be kind enough to double his total.
The bear scoffed. "I guess it's good enough. You should have gotten more though." He said, with an air of disdain for the mass of people. "Where do you get your food?"
"Fast food. Value menus, mostly." The tiger could tell this was going somewhere. He was afraid to derail the conversation, but someone with a wallet was talking to him. Had to know. "Can I ask your name?"
"Robert." The bear replied quickly. "Yours?"
"Damien."
The bear held out his hand to shake Damien's. "Nice to meet you."
"Yeah," the tiger replied. It was impeccably clean, so much that he nearly felt ashamed to touch it with his dirty fingers.
"How about I treat you to a dinner, Damien? We can go to any fast food chain you want." Robert said. "I'm parked pretty close."
The tiger sat up in excitement, his posture reflecting his emotions. "Really? I would love that!"
The bear held up another blindingly clean hand. "On one condition: I get to take you home, and you tell me about yourself."
The tiger nodded. If he played his cards right, he might even get to sleep in a bed tonight. "Sure!" His life story wasn't has favorite thing to recite, but it was worth a free dinner.
The bear groaned as he lifted himself up. "Come on then. What's your favorite place?"
The tiger followed, unsure of what restaurant he wanted, let alone what food.
Smith found it cute that Damien was so excited about a drive-thru. It felt perfect when he saw the tiger sitting there. He was young, homeless and desperate. No one would miss him, and his mind had less for him to remember and occupy himself with. After that disastrous morning with the letter and terrible luck in most places he'd looked for subjects, it seemed like fate that he'd find Damien.
As the bear drove them home, he wasn't shocked when Damien tried to order as much food as possible. Three sandwiches, two different drinks and an astounding amount of fries. It cost him almost all the cash left in his wallet.
On the way, Smith had been quizzing him about his life. By that point, he'd learned that Damien had no siblings, his parents divorced at an early age and neither could support him, forcing him to go through the foster system. He shied away from telling him his life after that, so Smith figured out some basic facts. The tiger was 24, had a high school diploma, worked in a few mind-numbing retail jobs, and loved burgers before it was his entire diet.
As he drove into his own driveway, Smith noticed the tiger had already finished half the food. "If you throw up, use the downstairs bathroom." He joked to Damien. The tiger only nodded while stuffing his face, packing away the uneaten food to take it inside.
Half an hour later, Damien was sipping the last remains of his milkshake as Smith finished sharing his own abridged history, leaving out his work at the Army. The tiger was curious as to why the bear wanted to know so much about him, but Smith was only confirming that he was as perfect as he looked.
"I have to say, you're pretty relaxed for someone without a home or a job." Smith remarked.
Damien smiled. "Well, that's only because of you. Normally I'm pretty worried about how much money I have and whether I can eat tomorrow."
"Really? Worrying can kill you if you let it get out of hand. It's a slow painful process, but it can happen. We have to use a few techniques at the hospital to keep patients calm if they have certain diseases." The bear replied, casually.
Damien nodded. "Yeah, I suppose I should just try and not worry about it. What kind of techniques?"
Smith answered, "Some of them are just little speeches we can tell them, but the most effective is hypnosis. Would you like to try?" Smith hoped beyond hope that the tiger would respond positively.
"Sure! I'll try anything to get out of what I'm stuck in now."
Perfect.
Damien thought that it might be a little sketchy. He'd heard about stage hypnotists at his middle school and thought it was all fake. But Smith, who'd told him his last name while he ate, said it was therapy. He'd never even had therapy before. And it was free. No reason not to try.
The bear stood up, "Well, I can start whenever you're ready." He went over to the living room and pulled up a stool, having it face a very comfortable armchair.
Damien paused for a second, almost taking back his acceptance on the offer. But that chair looked damn comfortable. He stood up, his meal sloshing around in his stomach and sat in front of Smith, who had sat himself upon the stool.
Smith smiled warmly and pulled something from his pocket: a small pendant at the end of a chain. If he tried some stupid trick after waving that around like "quack like a duck," Damien would be so out of there.
But Smith didn't do anything of the sort. He kept it in his hands and said, "Just sit back in your chair and relax. Keep your eyes open for now. Relax all those muscles."
The tiger slouched in the chair a bit, doing as he was asked. It came to him surprisingly easily. After being told a few more times to relax, he heaved a contented sigh.
Smith held up the pendant, but not the whole chain, just enough so the pendant wasn't in front of his hand. "I want you to focus on this object. Keep your eyes from looking anywhere else. You'll find that it's easier to relax when you look at just one object. Let yourself slip deeper and deeper into your wonderful relaxed state."
It was a novel feeling for Damien. He rarely felt comfortable and even less often felt relaxed, but never had he felt quite like that. His eyes remained fixed on the pendant as he listened to Smith's repeated words of encouragement. It was so easy, he was told, to relax and listen.
Something, maybe Smith, told him that he could close his eyes, that his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, that it felt natural to close them. So he did, and as darkness became all that he saw, he could have sworn he almost felt like he was floating in it.
Questions came at him. He heard them, but didn't really listen. He gave the answers easily, not even realizing what they were. It was as natural as breathing to him.
Smith put the pendant down on his lap. Now was the time to get the important information about the tiger. He was guaranteed to be the slave already, but he needed to know what he was so he knew what to change.
"Tell me, how do you feel about taking orders?" Asked the bear.
"...I can do it...If I trust them..." came the soft reply.
"Do you trust me?"
"Not yet..."
Good, there was space to work with.
"How do you feel about other men? Do you ever feel attracted to them?"
"Sometimes...I've never said it though..."
A closet case. At least bisexual to some degree. Definitely workable. The note didn't tell Smith that he needed to give away a sexual slave, but if he was going to train him...
"Lastly, how do you feel about living with a stranger?"
"No...don't trust them..."
Damn. That's going to take some work. But he's gotten this far. "Now Damien. I want you to visualize those fears and worries and knowledge of the bad things about your life right now. See them there, let them disappear. Let them be cast aside or fade away into nothingness." He repeated it a few more times, then said, "Tell me when they're gone, Damien."
A moment later, the tiger merely said. "They're gone..."
"Good. Now, I want you to listen to what I am saying, and repeat it back to me, and repeat it in your mind. Understand?" said the bear.
A mumble and a nod came from the tiger.
"I trust my friend Robert. I trust him with my life. I will do what he asks of me. I trust my friend Robert."
"I am comfortable talking about sex with other men. I am curious about it. I want to learn about it. I want to experiment with it. I am comfortable
with sex with other men."
"I can find the good in people. I can learn to trust the average person. I can comfortably live with another person that I know very little about. I can find the good in people."
"I am not homeless."
"I am looking for a job."
"I live with my friend Robert."
"He takes care of me."
"He gives me free therapy."
"I live with my friend Robert."
"I am attracted to Robert."
It took more than an hour of repeating those words, but Smith wanted to be safe with Damien's mind. He couldn't afford to have anything go wrong. He even planted a false history of the past weeks.
"On the count of ten, your awareness of your surroundings will come to you. Remember now what you know. Disregard the old information."
And he counted back. "One...two...three..."
The tiger's fingers began to move a little, his breathing speeding up from
the relaxed rate it was at before.
"Four...five...six...seven..."
Damien's ears flicked, his eyelids began to open, but the eyes didn't process what they saw.
"Eight...nine...ten."
Damien's eyes opened fully and the tiger smiled back.
"How do you feel?" The bear asked warmly.
"Pretty great. I'm a lot more calm now." The tiger said. Smith swore that he stared at the bear's crotch for more than a second.
"Good. As long as you feel completely aware. Glad I could help you out with that." The bear replied, starting to do the same thing to the tiger's groin. It looked pretty big, and he wanted to know...but it'd be better to let the tiger start.
"Damn, I really need a shower." Damien said after catching a whiff of himself.
Smith's mind entertained itself with the image of the tiger naked in the shower, water gliding off of him, around his nice shapely rear, fur clinging to his body...The bear brought himself back to reality.
"Good idea. I'll clean up dinner. Let me know when you're done, I think I'll do the same."
Damien smiled and headed to the upstairs bathroom while Smith dumped all of the fast food leavings into the trash. His pants tight from the idea of Damien's beautiful nude body in the shower, Smith quickly fetched a box of clothes much too small for him, most given to him as gifts. They looked to be the perfect size for the tiger though.
Smith could hear the shower still running as he shoved the clothes into a drawer in his guest room. It'd take a bit of acting to get Damien to believe it was really his room, but it wouldn't be too hard.
Fortunately for Smith, his bedroom was opposite the bathroom, and offered him a perfect vantage point to admire the real naked wet body of the tiger. He stood there and started to take off his own clothes, glad that Damien left the door open. As the tiger turned off the showerhead and stepped out to dry himself, Smith finished stripping.
They passed each other, smiling, the bear going so far as to add a suggestive wink, something he could pass as a joke among friends if Damien thought poorly of it.
But the tiger didn't.
The entire time Smith was in the shower, Damien stood in the hallway and watched. Smith even saw something poking from behind the tiger's towel, knowing exactly what it was.
As the bear stepped out and dryed himself, he chuckled at Damien's presence, but pretended to mind his own business.
"I love the feeling when you get out of the shower. So refreshing." He said lightly.
Damien just nodded and smiled, starting to step away.
"You ever spooned before, Damien?"
The tiger just shook his head.
"Feels great. You just line yourself up against someone else, facing the same way, and they put their arms around you." Smith walked back to his room, brushing Damien along the way. "Wanna try?"
Damien nodded.
Five minutes later, both of them were nude and Smith had his arms wrapped around the tiger's chest. They laid there, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies. Smith's chest rose softly against Damien's back.
"It feels really nice..." Damien said.
Smith gently caressed Damien's chest.
"Told you," he teased.
Somewhere from behind, Damien felt a prodding, in the small of his back.
"Sorry," the bear told him. "I...can't help myself. You're just so damn cute."
The tiger just smiled and pressed back against Smith.
"It's fine...to be honest, I was kind of hoping it would happen."
"Really?" Smith asked.
It was true that ever since he had arrived at the house so many weeks ago, he didn't initially feel anything for the bear, but as he lived with him, sharing each other's stories and discussing potential job opportunities the tiger could have, Damien grew to enjoy Smith's presence more than anything else.
Was it love? He had been looking forward to this moment, when they could be together and just hold each other for hours. He knew that Smith was gay when he moved in, but the way he presented himself didn't hint toward his sexuality at all. Damien never expected to have these feelings develop, but he had always been curious.
"Yeah, really. In fact," He said nervously, "I was hoping that you might...uh, well...want to do more than spoon tonight."
Smith only smiled and pressed his nose into the tiger's neck.
"I'd be happy to. I haven't been this comfortable with someone else in a long time." The bear's arms slid around Damien's waist. "Anything you have in mind? I could help you with almost anything."
Damien just rested his hands on the bear's arm.
"What's your favorite thing to do?"
"Something you're not ready for. Just do what feels comfortable, okay? If you want, I could just take control, and you let me know if I'm doing anything you don't like."
Damien nodded, "Okay."
Smith grinned and gave the tiger a nuzzle before starting to kiss below his neck. He slipped his arms from the tiger and whispered in his ear, telling him to lay on his back. Damien obliged, shivering from excitement.
The bear began by sliding his hands up and down the sides of the tiger while his tongue started worshipping Damien's chest, causing Damien to arch his back and squint his eyes closed.
"Feels fantastic," the tiger murmured.
Smith only gave a wink as he moved downward, towards the tiger's throbbing shaft. Soon, the bear's muzzle was inches away from it, and took the opportunity to fondle Damien's sac as, for the first time, Damien felt the lick of a tongue on the underside of his member.
It was like nothing else.
Damien's shaft tasted even better than the bear had expected.
He licked several more times, hearing shuddering moans coming from the tiger. To lick such a beautiful tigerhood and hear the noises of pleasure from the one it belonged to was almost as wonderful as seeing them go under for him. Smith grabbed the base of the shaft as he began to lick the very tip, moaning slightly himself as his bearhood pressed against the bed. He took his other hand and slowly groped the sac beneath the tiger's considerable member.
Smith started to tease the tiger's shaft, taking his tongue off of it and just stroking it while fondling the balls beneath it. Another loud moan from Damien, and a slow stream of pre moved down the feline member, letting the bear slide his hand slide up and down on the shaft even faster.
Then just to surprise the tiger, Smith took his mouth and quickly deepthroated him, eagerly tasting the pre on the shaft. Sweet and delicious, he bobbed his head up and down while the tiger fidgeted, groaning loudly from the sensations the bear gave him.
It felt so pure, so right, so wonderful to service the tiger, despite Smith knowing he led this metaphorical horse to the water and convinced him to drink it by less-than-ethical means. But the gasps from Damien told the bear that what he was doing was fine. There were no problems with it.
"I...I'm close!" The tiger said, which prompted Smith back into the present. Almost on command, he performed a combination of all the acts from before. He used one hand on the very base of the member, his mouth on the cocktip and the other hand on the tiger's sac, sending waves of bliss through the tiger's body.
Not much longer, Smith felt the seed of the tiger fill his mouth. Normally, it would have been slightly disgusting, but this was different. He loved giving the naive tiger such pleasure, and knowing he did so well. The bear swallowed it down, murring as he lingered on the spent shaft.
After a few moments of afterglow for them both, Smith slid back up to hold the tiger, spooning him as if he never left.
"That...that was amazing," Smith heard the tiger mutter.
The bear held Damien close. "You thought that felt good...just wait until we do more. But for now, let's just sleep here."
"Yeah...it's so comfortable...so nice..." The tiger said, drifting off.
Soon Smith was simply laying there, staring at the tiger before him. It had only been half a day, but- No, not this fast. He couldn't be. But he was. He was falling in love with his slave.
And he wouldn't be able to give him away. Even if his life depended on it.
And it did.
To be concluded