Chapter 1

3rd of March, 5:13 PM

Ezil International Prison, Death row

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The white otter tossed and turned on the 'bed' he had been supplied with for the past month; it was hardly a bed and was no where near worthy of being called a decent resting place, even for a condemned A-list prisoner. Nate's bed was a wooden plank, suspended from the ground by taut chains that attached to the concrete walls. The prison ran maintenance on all of the beds, so that the prisoners couldn't pull the planks off of the wall and use it as a weapon, despite this Nate would often awake to find splinters digging into his body. The rest of his cell was no better: the grey walls were un-painted and both the walls, not to mention the floor, had hundreds of cracks snaking over them like veins. It was as if the construction had hated the cell so much they'd abandoned the project before they could finish the abomination. Or maybe they had left simply because they hated the criminal who would be occupying the chamber. Either way, the thing's design was poor enough to make the fathers of the renaissance turn over in their graves.

Apart from the plank, there was a toilet without a seat along with a roll of coarse tissue paper, a small bucket of dirty water for washing and several plates stacked near to the iron bars, so that the flies wouldn't be too annoying. Nate had grown used to the bugs that flitted around the room, sometimes he'd decide to try to knock them out of the sky with his forepaws; a fun way to pass the time and stay reasonably healthy. Tucked into the corner of his room, there was a desk with a written letter waiting to be signed and sent off to the receiver. The otter had read the writing a hundred times, but he'd never even taken it off of the desk for more than a second.

With a sigh, the otter settled for lying on his back with a forepaw resting on the upper half of the orange jumpsuit he'd been provided with. The plank groaned under his weight as he bounced up and down, finding pleasure in the noise it produced. "You fingering yourself in there?" A gruff voice came from the next cell over, masculine and drunken. The guards didn't care about the drug and alcohol problems that plagued cell block 3, therefore most prisoners were regularly out of their mind in two ways. The white otter smiled, his green emerald eyes shining with happiness for he had somefur to speak to who wasn't a feral fly that just happened to be laying eggs wherever it could. "No, not at all. Just trying to get comfortable." He replied with an ebullient tones. "Good, good. Don't t'ink t'e guards would like you fingering yourself at all." The voice stretched out ever L, giving him a strange accent.

The fur who owned the voice went by the name 'Gunn.' Nate had heard the guards and other prisoners calling him by that. They'd only spoken three times, but already Nate had inferred that Gunn was as insouciant as he could get. He smoked, took drugs and threw his syringes or empty packets around when he was finished. In addition to this, Gunn seemed smart enough to evade arrest or even escape from prison, but so far he showed no signs of even wanting to escape. Nate assumed that Gunn was a rat, both in personality and in species.

Staring at the back of the forepaw, Nate came to meet the black pheon that was inked into his fur. It pointed west, representing the country of Ezil. Normally, the broad arrow would be dyed into a convicts fur with white dye, but thanks to Nate's fur color the pheon wouldn't be visible, therefore the prison had reverted to using black dye instead. There was a social stigma around the black pheon wherever it pointed, that represented the human's territory miles north of the wasteland between Ezil and the human's main territory. There were more human territories, one far north and one far south that weren't worth the journey along with a large landmass and another island south of Ivia. The wars had iced over and only a few skirmishes erupted every ten or so years, but the memories and the superstitions were still there. One of these superstitions was that anyfur bearing a black pheon would end up in human territory and would certainly die. Nate however, was not afraid of the silly cub tales; he would die no matter where he went.

The jumpsuit he wore had the white version of the pheon on the back of it and one more on the breast pocket. All prisoners had that mark colored differently to distinguish between visitors, staff and convicts. Staff and convicts also wore I.D on their uniforms. Where as the convicts were marked by their prisoner number, the cell location, the first letter of their first name and their full name, Staff had been tagged with a staff number, work station and their occupation. For example, the otter's markings were; 17022004, W3/B3/C003, N. Todd.

No matter how many times the law said that the otter's name was Nathaniel Todd, he would always call himself Nate Bleak. It was a miserable last name, but it had belonged to somefur very special and he wasn't about to forget about it, even if a man of the cloth said it wasn't his name.

"What time is it?" Nate asked to Gunn. "If I had a watch, I still wouldn't tell you nothin' 'bout the time. Not out'a meanness, but 'c'us' a man shouldn't know how much time he's got left. Ain't it so?" "That's a good point." Nate replied dropping his forepaw back to the bed. "Still... One of these guards will tell you in a second. Only 'c'us' they want to make you panic a bit before they kill you."

Nate clenched his fists and tensed. "I won't panic! I know what's going to happen. I know that I can't get out of it and I know that they'll try to make it painful. But that's just how the law works in this country." Nate relaxed with a sigh, perhaps . "You're not born here are you? In Ezil?" "I'm not. I was born in Veden, moved here with my parents when I was two. How could yo utell?" "What's it like? In that snowy place up north with all the rich snobs runnin' around." Gunn snorted. "I don't know. I can't remember much about what it was like there, but I'm sure that it was better up there than in here." "Everything's better than this prison."

The two of them stayed silent for a while. The rest of the cell block hadn't woken up yet, either that or they were listening to the conversation going on. A few minutes later, a guard came back and rattled the bars to Nate's cell. He shot up, his head darting to look at the grey wolf who'd disturbed him. The wolf in uniform pushed a piece of paper through the bars and did his best to hide his smile, "Write down what you want for your last meal. I'll be back in a few minutes." He said before walking off quickly.

At that point, as if a light switch had been flicked, the whole prison churned to life and noise erupted like a volcano. Forepaws shot out from the bars to grab at the guard, scratch him if they were lucky or just flick him. No forepaws reached him and every time one got close, the guard would slam his baton down on the assaulter making it crack, it's owner would howl and repeal their forepaw to nurse it.

Nate scurried over to the desk as fast as his legs could carry him, he scribbled down what he wanted in full detail. The ingredients... the temperature at which to boil... the amount and weight of the ingredients, even down to what seasoning he wanted! Nate wasn't taking any chances, his last meal was going to be exactly how he wanted it.

By the time he was finished writing the guard hadn't returned. Nate smiled, it gave him the opportunity to perfect the letter. He folded out the piece of paper without taking it off the desk and read as much as he could:

To a Master Bleak... The letter opened. Nate had always addressed the male with that title to tease him. Although, the rest of the letter was much more formal:

I'm sorry about what happened. Even though I know that you won't get this letter and even if you do you won't have some fur to write back to, I've written out this letter for you. I've written it as if you'll be able to read it. I'm sorry that the last words I said to you were harsh and that our last memory together is us fighting on the bedroom floor. I'm sorry that the last thing you heard was a sharp sound. But I'm glad the last thing you saw before you passed was my face. That's good, right?

A large portion of the letter at that point was illegible. His forepaw had been shaky, his mind a blur and his body bruised. He'd just received his first 'play-date' with his peers. Being the weaker male the others set on him and vented their anger with a multitude of attacks. Fortunately, the guards had dragged each and every fur of them to their cells and locked them inside.

A friend had payed Nate a visit after that and had helped him attend to his wounds.

To my parents who may or may not read this letter, I would like for 'Nate Bleak' to be put on the urn that will be given to Master Bleak. You can put whatever name you want on your urn, but know that you are only getting a quarter of the ashes like Master Bleak is. I'm sorry about that, but I want at least half of my ashes to be scattered in Veden, so that I get to see where I was born.

My wrist is starting to hurt at this point, but I'll write until the pen runs out. Master Bleak, prison isn't as bad as you always thought. I don't have a boyfriend, my ass isn't ruined, I'm not being beaten and I do have friends. Well... I have a friend, who I don't know much about. He speaks weirdly, I like him though. There's a fit guard here, I'm going to try to touch his junk before I die! It'll be a good way to go, either that or I'll en up having sex whilst I die. Imagine that!

I asked for your specialty for my last meal. I haven't had it yet, but I know they won't get it right. Promise me that you're going to carry on cooking it and that you're going to carry on writing. I stashed a bunch of my notes on what we were going to right in the desk drawer, you can have them now. Oh! And make sure that you don't kill of your characters until the very end. At least that way you would have out-lived me in one way! And I want the main anti-antagonist's kids to die in a fire, alright?

I want you to carry on living life if you get the chance. I want you to raise a family of your own and if you get the chance, call one of the kids Nate. Make sure that our books get published under your name and you'll throw out all the photos of me. It's no use clinging to the past after all. Anyway, I'm sorry again for all the shit I did.

Make sure you do something extra bad to get into hell, maybe suck a few hundred dicks or shout that you're gay. Oh! Or kiss a guy in a church. Do everything you can to go into hell and we can be together. Actually, don't. I want to see you, but you deserve a nice place like heaven. On that note, I think it's a good place to end.

- From your pet Nate Bleak

P.S My pen is running out, but I have to tell you this! I've put all of my life savings (More than a million) under th

Nate smiled when he read his cliche, but comical ending. He hadn't actually hidden any money and 'Master Bleak' would know that there was no loot to be found, but any fur reading it might be tricked and go on and wild goose chase. The thought of that made Nate giggle to himself.

He folded the letter back up and plopped it into an envelope. He didn't know if he'd ironed out all the errors or if he'd made it as good as possible, but what he had in the envelope would have to do. The prison had promised to post one letter free of charge, so he didn't need to all the formal stuff to get the letter posted. Finally, he wrote 'To Master Bleak' on it before walking back to the bars and waiting for the return of the guard.

"Whatcha order?" Gunn asked. "What did you order?" He repeated, which was good because the last question was incomprehensible. "A specialty that I grew up with: Mashed peas with peanuts mixed in and smothered with ketchup." "That sounds like it's gonna taste like shit. Besides, they won't give you the nuts. Might think you're tryin' to kill yourself before they can." "They will! They'd better!" Nate pouted, "It's my last meal. They have to give me what I ask for, even if it takes ages to cook." "I suppose you got a point. Still, don't go cryin' when you just get peas and ketchup."

"What are you going to have? When it's your turn?" "The biggest meal I can have, so it takes 'um a day to cook." "They won't spend that long on it. Mine will probably only take a few seconds." "That's 'c'us' it's shit." "You've never tried it the way I used to have it. If you don't do it right it doesn't taste nice!"

Nate was slightly offended, after all, the dish was a special that belonged to some fur who was very important. In Nate's opinion, the dish would be delectable no matter what. If it tasted like shit, he'd just throw it at the guard and demand that they let him cook it. Nate knew that the prison would probably just give him the injection the moment he protested, or just put a bullet through his head, but at least he would have tried to honor Master Bleak's dish.

"Why do you want it anyway? Ain't you gonna ask for somethin' you otters love, like fish?" "That's just a stereotype. I want it because the dish has sentimental value." "Oh so you one of those lovey-dovey faggots?" Gunn growled. Nate winced, but replied. "Yes. I am. The guy who made the dish was my boyfriend. Do you have a problem with that?" Nate asked trying to keep his voice as emotionless as possible.

Nate wasn't fazed at all, he'd encountered plenty of homophobes in his time, both male and female, old and young, smart and stupid, big and small, strong and weak. Many furs supported gays, polysexuals, lesbians, transsexuals and everything else and those who didn't rarely spoke out against it. But if Nate held his boyfriend's forepaws or hugged him in public , he'd get an disapproving look from somefur.

"Yeah, but I won't bash on what you like when it's your last day livin'. A Man's last thoughts have to be good." "Thanks." Nate smiled, not every homophobic was a complete twat. "Did you have a lover outside of prison?" "Girl in every port!" The two of them chuckled, Nate was glad to be back on the right side of the fence. "You were in the navy?" "Served for 10 years before they nabbed me."

"What did you do?" Nate questioned curiously. "One of the girls turned about to be 15. Bitch said she was sixteen when we hooked up." "That's not your fault!" Nate cried as he shot up in bed. He exhaled slowly and lay back down. " She shouldn't have lied to you. What happened then?" He said with a much softer tone.

"Her parents dragged me off to court, navy fired me without a second thought and the judge threw me here on a count of being a pedophile."

"How long ago was that? You were here before me." "Four months ago. My case isn't as serious as yours, so they waitin' a while before they kill me off." "You spent Christmas in here?" "Yeah, got no presents. Not even a visitor." "That must be harsh..." Nate sighed. "I don't care. Hated my family anyway. You got family on the outside?"

"My parents. They would have wanted to visit me." "What about that boyfriend of yours?" Gunn asked, intrigued and wanting to know a little more about Nate's lover. "I don't think he'd want to see me ever again." "I won't ask about that then. It's wrong, not lettin' a guy's family see him before he dies. They were going to open visitation for you next week." "My parents would visit me once, cry a bit and then never see me again." "They sure were quick about gettin' you of the way." "Well you know... They crack down quick on furs like me." "They afraid of a revolution. Worried that every last poor man's gonna pick up a pitchfork and charge parliament." "That won't happen any time soon. It'd be lovely to see it though." "Heh, I'd love to see the president's head on a pike."

At that point Nate stopped conversation, brutal had never been his thing. It must have been closer to another fifteen minutes of perturbing silence before the guard walked past, swirling his baton. Nate reached out of the bars and poked the wolf, the two of them smiled at each other. "Done already, Nate?" He asked, "Most take about an hour before they know what they want." "I've planned it since I got here." Nate replied, his tail swishing like a dog's might.

The guard did his best to suppress his own tail talk, since every fur nearby could see his tail. "Thought you would." He took the list of off Nate and scanned it. "This is... detailed." He said after a brief pause. "You know me, Adam!" "You're supposed to call me, 'sir.'" Adam growled, baring his teeth in a playful demeanor. "You've never cared for formalities now have you?" Nate forepaws loosely clasped around the bars, he ran them up and down the iron lengths with a feline look in his eyes."You know me a bit too well." Adam chuckled. "I do don't I? And I know that right now you're trying to hide a boner. Why don't you open my cell and we can have some fun before I die?" Nate asked with an alluring demeanor. He'd acted that way before, but he'd never been serious about it. "And end up losing my job? No thanks." Adam replied.

"Awww... So you're just going to let me die a virgin?" "You're 22, Nate. I'm sure that you've lost your virginity to somefur." Adam rolled his eye, mocking the otter. "Yeah, but with a girl..." Nate stressed the latter word as if a female was disgusting to him. "I still haven't taken it up the butt." "Lucky you. Let me tell you, it hurts." "That's just because you're a wimp. Then again, I bet that you were begging him for more. More! Please! Uh! Uh!" He teased. "One more like that and I'll shove this baton up your ass!" Adam threatened with a whispered hiss, no longer being jocular. "Is this what you call police brutally?" Nate purred, doing nothing to hide his own erection.

The wolf was blushing heavily, trying desperately to hide his embarrassment from the other prisoners. It wasn't often that Nate was able to control the situation."Awww.. Go on! It's a win-win situation for me either way. But if you unlock the cell and come in, we can both get a win." Nate winked. "Told you before otter; ain't gonna happen!" Adam moved away from the bars, almost as if he was finished talking, but Nate heard another guard speaking to Adam.

"Could you take this list to the kitchen, Nathaniel Todd's last meal." Adam explained, trying to force the note into his peer's forepaw. The other wolf rejected it immediately, "Do it yourself, I need to take the rest of the stuff to the room." He said before leaving in a hurry. Adam grumbled something, but soon returned to the cell bars with a simple hood in his forepaws.

Although it was unnecessary, Adam grumbled "Could you please step away from the bars, kneel down, face the wall and put your forepaw behind your head?" Nate didn't do exactly what he was told, he faced the wall and got down low, but he couldn't prevent himself from sticking out his ass and pushing his tail to one side. "Do you like what you see?" Nate asked in a teasing voice. "Nate..." Adam mumbled, opening the door and approaching the white otter from behind.

He placed the hood over Nate's head and tied a knot in the string to keep it attached. Nate couldn't see anything, nor could he hear, smell or taste anything apart from the foul scent of leather. It hadn't entered his mouth, but the potent, repugnant odor slaughtered his taste buds and lingered around his synapses. He'd long since shut his eyes tight, but the leathery smell found a way to sting his eyes.

Nate himself had decided on this way of tradition. They would always cover the condemned prisoners head when escorting him around the prison, so that the other prisoners didn't know who was going to be executed. The orange jumpsuit helped them blend in and white tufts of fur couldn't really give away a fur's identity. Unfortunately, every fur in Cell block B knew about the legendary N.Todd and his not so noble escapade, it was a tale whispered among friends in taverns, chatter among school cubs, a tale that had been twisted and spiked with liquor to exaggerate the bad and make the good parts wane.

There were already a multitude of legends about the 'psychotic', 'depressed', 'evil', 'troubled', 'twisted', 'tormented' mustelid who had simply handed himself over out of grief or fear. Either way, the crime stayed the same all the time. But Nate's story stayed the same in all details; it was a mistake, his finger slipped and he didn't deserve to live any longer. That was why the otter was eager to enjoy his last few hours alive, even if meant being a bit lecherous.

"Is it comfortable?" Adam asked, patting Nate on the back and helping him come to a standing position. Nate felt cold handcuffs lock around his wrists and forepaws pushed him forwards slowly, Nate shuddered. Adam leaned forwards and gently kissed Nate on the back of the neck. "Calm down. Answer my question." "Yes, they're comfortable enough. Which way?" Nate sighed and did his best not to freak out. "Left." Adam replied. Nate felt a chill pass down his spine as he walked past Gunn's cell. "The prisoner we just walked past. What color is his fur? What's his real name? Can I speak to him?" "I don't know his name and no, you can't speak to any fur but me now. His fur is brown and black if that'll comfort you." Adam informed. Brown and black, Nate thought. Brown....black. For some reason those colors made him fear Gunn more than ever, even though there were iron bars between them.

The walk to their destination was full of stumbling, cursing and giggling, but Nate soon was gently pushed into a warm room. The handcuffs remained on, but the hood was removed, so that Nate could at least see his surroundings. He wasn't in the dining hall, or the execution chamber, or any place he recognized. The walls were painted a light grey color, the same shade as the prison cell walls; however, this room was finished. There were white tiles of the floor that had never been stained. But that was the only decor the room had received. It felt empty, at least the cells had a bit of furniture, but this room had nothing to it, literally.

"We're not allowed to give you the traditional send off, because of your crime, but we can add our own variation. Now... this isn't legal at all, nor is it authorized, but you're a slut aren't you?" Adam asked, breathing down the back of Nate's neck and rubbing his forepaw against the back of Nate's thighs. Nate's head had just been flooded with information, but he wasn't stupid. "No... I'm not. You know that I'm a virgin. Who's we?! Why isn't this legal?! What are you planning on doing with me?" "But you did give your boyfriend a lot of blowjobs, didn't you? Silver tongue, lashing his cock with kisses... Gave me a few didn't you?" Adam chuckled. "Because he wanted me to and you forced me to!" Nate cried, his voice breaking as he recalled memories both good and bad. Adam's sexual words were starting to offend, yet Nate couldn't stop himself from getting hard as his imagination ran wilds with images of the most delectable cocks.

"He wanted to have real sex with you. He wanted to hear you moan as his dick slipped inside of you, he wanted to make you come. That's not all though, is it? He wanted you to ride him until you were too tired to move yourself and he'd have to hump you from beneath until his cum spurted into you." Adam growled, gripping Nate's bound arm and squeezing. Adam's was just aroused as Nate was, if not more and he didn't plan on stopping the sexual onslaught any time soon. "He'd toss you off whilst you had anal. You'd both end up a sticky mess and then you'd do it all over again. Because that's what he wanted. You know your place in this world. You live to serve others." Adam purred and licked his lips. "I'm included in that list aren't I?" A forepaw brushed over Nate's sensitive cock.

At this point Nate was both terrified and turned on. Adam shouldn't have known about what Nate's boyfriend wanted and Nate shouldn't have been getting an erection over fiction. On the other hand, a part of his body wanted to drop to the floor and jerk off. One last release before he died. Even it was just a splutter on to the floor or if his forepaw got terribly sticky, that would be enough to satisfy Nate in his final moments.

Adam suddenly backed away and one of Nate's un-answered questions found its answer. The second wolf entered carrying a camera and a body bag full of items. Nate couldn't see what was in the bag, but Adam knew what was inside already. "Never getting involved yourself are you, Will?" Will had black fur from head to toe, apart from a small variation in shading around his chest area. His red eyes darted from the otter and then to the wolf, he'd heard all of the conversation. He was ripped, a lot more than Adam, yet Adam was still the alpha in the room. Nate had learnt that the hard way when he first arrived. Adam had been told to get Nate changed into his jumpsuit, but Nate was putting up a bit of resistance.

Adam had charged straight into the cell and dragged Nate to some kind of locker room. There, Adam had torn Nate's shirt and jeans from him and pinned him on the ground. The next thing he knew, Nate was handcuffed to a bench and completely stripped of what little pride and dignity (along with his remaining clothes) he had left. He'd recorded him, made Nate shake his ass at the camera otherwise things would have gotten brutal. Adam had never used the footage to blackmail Nate into doing anything, so he was probably using it for personal reasons or posting it to a website for the amusement of others.

Either way, Nate couldn't do much. Most, if not all of his rights had been taken away with his possessions. So trying to appeal or getting a guard investigated was nearly impossible. After being hand-cuffed, Nate had begun to beg for mercy. Nate had promised to do anything, so long as it was anal. He had promised to his boyfriend that only he would be allowed to take his anal virginity. The pleas had made Adam chuckle, then he'd simply promised to look after Nate, so long as he gave his consent to one sexual act. All he had to do was suckle on Adam's cock until Adam came.

It was over in about a minute, but after it Nate was panting and crying. He'd hated every second of it, but conflict had been aroused in his brain. A part of him loved the rough treatment and was eager to do it again, yet another part had wanted to run and another wanted to fight. The only thing that his brain agreed on was that Adam was the alpha, and they were lower down than an omega. If Adam wanted a blow job, Nate gave it him, if Adam wanted some company in the guard bedrooms, Nate gave it him. If he was lucky, he'd be able to sneak back to his cell before the warden caught and whipped him with words and leather.

Nate had been dragged off several times before to engage in oral with Adam or to toss him off at the wolf's demand, but this was the first time he'd seen Will getting involved. "We're going to shoot another one of our videos. Just a little one for the scrap books." Adam explained. After a sigh, Nate got down on the floor without being told and was about to remove his master's trousers when he received and un-expected thwack on the neck from Adam's baton.

Nate crumpled onto the floor, gasping for breath. His forepaws clutched against his burning neck. The pain soon ceased and with a sharp tongue Adam hissed at his pet. "Were you told to move? Did I say you could begin?" He quipped. He pinched the otter's small round ear and bellowed into it, "DID I?" "No!" He screamed in mortal terror, his body shaking with fear and his forepaws grasping into fists. Adam released and backed away for a moment to compose himself. Nate lay sniffling on the floor, twitching and trying to bring about the courage to do something. He saw that the camera was rolling and was already trained on him. He rolled to lay face down.

"Over." Adam hissed seconds later. Nate wasn't given enough time to react, he was pulled onto his back about a second later and Adam was once again in his face. The buttons on jumpsuit were undone and soon his bare chest was exposed to the camera. His fur was disturbed, un-cut and neglected for a month if not more. The unkempt fur was Nate's shame.

"What are you doing?!" Nate cried, struggling underneath the weight of the wolf. "G-get off!" He stuttered, writing around and trying to kick out at Adam. What Adam was doing at that moment was different from the other times. Normally they'd be in a bedroom and Adam would be sitting on the side of the bed. Nate would kneel down and then his head would be pushed into the sweaty crotch.

He'd be forced to sniff, lick, grope and fondle until Adam was satisfied. Sometimes the worship was enough to make Adam happy and Nate would be released to go about his daily business. Sometimes, when Adam was feeling horny he'd make Nate go all the way to the point where Adam would come into his mouth.

At first Nate would spit it all out before he could even think to swallow or Adam would tip Nate's head back and make him swallow. Nate had lost count of how many times he'd gagged or coughed up what cum he'd been made to swallow. One time he'd broken down into tears because he couldn't make Adam come. That had been one hell of a night for the both of them.

But this time, it was all different. He was being pushed onto the ground, stripped by the wolf's forepaw whilst another wolf recorded it all without a second thought. Adam simply ignored the otter's pleas and finally managed to remove the jumpsuit entirely. He tossed it across the room and allowed the otter to scutter backwards until he was pressed against the wall. He was now fully naked and the cold was starting to get to him.

Despite the fact that Nate felt violated and many levels, he couldn't stop his own erection from throbbing; just like Adam's erection was pulsing in his boxers. The camera zoomed in on Nate's erection. Colored a fleshy pink, it looked as if it was about to explode into a mess of cum. But Adam wasn't going to let his prized possession have its release just yet.

The wolf with the camera ignored Nate's cowering body for a moment and focused on Adam's crotch. Adam slowly un-zipped his jeans and slid them off as slowly as possible all the while he was thinking about how much fear his mustelid friend was feeling.

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Thanks For Reading! ^_^

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