FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

Rangetops around the kitchen bore sizzling burgers and deep fryer racks dunked bounties of french fries and strips of chicken into scalding oil. The kitchen bustled with gaudily-uniformed young men and women with the odd middle-aged loser sprinkled among them and treated with no more respect. To the patrons coming and going in endless waves, the smells emanating from the kitchen were enticing, loosening jaws and wallets; but the smells were cloying to the employees, none more so than a young thing in the back. Too low on the ladder to prepare food, the employee named Stormy mopped floors, stocked the freezer and scrubbed the toilets for part-time minimum wage. For all the trouble he went to earning his insulting paycheck, Stormy spent none of his money on food, necessities, or luxuries. Every cent went toward rent.

Slopping the soapy, wet mop over the tile subjected him to the acrid cleaning solution, but Stormy was mildly grateful that it blotted out the inescapable smell of fast food. Its allure tied his stomach up in knots and left him longing for the one meal he was barely entitled to at home. Dinner so happened to be whatever he could scrounge after his roommates - a gay couple whom shared the handsome manor which he stayed in - chose to vacate the kitchen in the evening. Oftentimes they'd sit well after their food had settled just to filibuster Stormy out of so much as a bite of fat before the help trashed the leftovers. Such was the life of a young man with no options or dignity.

Stormy dropped the mop into the bucket, sloshed it in the murky gray water and angrily wrung it out. Again he started to mop with fading care for the quality of his work. Most of his energy went into keeping himself from crying and every step he took stirred up a raw anal pain which was refreshed every single night without question. He could have time to heal, so said his landlord, when he finally moved out.

Quitting time on payday. Stormy clocked out and disappeared in back to see the boss. An officious fox with a graying muzzle and an ugly striped tie, he said nothing to the minimum-wage lackey when he handed over his paycheck. Timid Stormy asked, "Is there any way I can get full time? These part-time checks, they're just not enough."

With his conditioning, Stormy expected the boss to kick back and unbutton his fly. That was far from the ideal outcome but quick blowjobs seemed to be a preferred form of currency among power-hungry office fucks; but the fox only smiled and showed off his needly teeth as he steepled his fingers. "No," he answered simply. "Ask again and I'll find another loser to wash the toilets."

To get out of the office was implied. Stormy said nothing when he tucked his tail and started for home.

No bus routes would carry Stormy any closer to home than his feet could carry him, a cab was out of the question, a car of his own was just as unlikely and his landlord forbade Stormy to take rides from friends, whom he didn't want near his home.

An hour into his roadside walk, Stormy broke off from the idyllic countryside to trudge down a well-cleared driveway in the woods. Within the sunset glow was muddled by the trees, and so his colors were a sharp contrast. Snow white fur covered his body, but his species as a tiger had him decorated with stripes in a striking shade of cyan. A tuft of hair on his head to match the stripes looked cute on him, but an old and poorly-healed scar above and beneath and his left eye added to his weary gaze. What little innocence remained in his green eyes was nearly impossible to find.

As the manor came into view among the trees, Stormy felt a sudden pang of revulsion and terror. He paused, leaned against a tree and sobbed while the sun descended.

--2

Deihnyx heard the lock click for Stormy's key and he lowered his book to watch the tiger step inside. From the den he peered with his intelligent eyes, their gaze a malevolent one no matter how pretty a blue they were. "You're home," said Deihnyx with no surprise nor care. "It's Friday. Hand it over."

Where Stormy had once shown scorn at Deihnyx's demands was only deference Though tired, he scurried from the foyer to the den over a fine Persian rug and past a pewter bust of Deihnyx displayed in a recess in the wall. From his the breast pocket of his tacky uniform shirt, he produced his paycheck and Deihnyx provided a pen. Stormy endorsed his check and then he signed it over to Deihnyx.

Having the check in his fingers saw a smile creep across Deihnyx's sleek snout. "Barely a hundred dollars," he said in his bossy cadence. "We'll be making up the difference again this week, I see."

Stormy folded his arms as though he were chilled, though Deihnyx kept his abode almost uncomfortably warm in all seasons. As he always did every payday before the ordeal began, Stormy bleated, "It never seems to be enough."

"Funny how that works out," Deihnyx sneered. He dropped his book, parted his legs and said to the fidgeting tiger, "Take off that ugly uniform. In fact, take off all of it." As Stormy stripped, Deihnyx remarked, "I hate that minimum-wage-trash uniform. Maybe if you'd made something of yourself like I did, you might be able to sit without crying."

A moment after his briefs hit the floor, Stormy knelt compulsively before Deihnyx whom exuded heady musk. Being a dragon endowed Deihnyx with a potent sex drive and a massive capacity for cruelty and punishment upon individuals toward young men such as Stormy. Stormy's fingers opened up the black dragon's khaki fly and the drake said offhandedly, "Start with the asshole this time."

Stormy pulled down the Deihnyx's pants when the dragon lifted his rear out of the chair. Because Deihnyx looked down upon undergarments, his lower body was thus nude. To the tiger's jaded eyes, Deihnyx's tail hole and subtly aroused genital slit were less objects of revulsion and more simply obstacles in his daily survival. He nosed between the two orifices and found himself taken aback as ever by the drake's overwhelming musk but he began to lap across the flesh of that pucker.

Overhead, Deihnyx emitted some dirty rumble just as a toothy grin split open his muzzle. Pointed, purple and knotted cockflesh emerged as Stormy lapped and from the tip of the shaft came a drool of pre which spattered into the boy's hair, leaving also a line along the top of his short snout. Of the most torture to Stormy was ever the dragon's musk, however, this smell not exclusive to dragons but alarmingly more potent on them. Stormy never quite adapted to the drake's powerful scent.

When the scent became too harsh for his tender senses, Stormy pulled back from Deihnyx's asshole for a fresher breath. That was when he noticed a fragrance of fine food wafting from the kitchen. The help always cooked such good food, or so Deihnyx told him secondhand. Making life difficult for the tiger was a low, resonant grumble in his stomach.

Before Stormy could whine of his hunger, Deihnyx tweaked his draconian meat and asked, "Hm, did I say you could stop?"

"Dei, I'm starving," Stormy moaned. "The restaurant was too busy for me to grab any of the throw-out food!"

"Boy," Deihnyx sneered, "have you starved to death yet?" Stormy merely stared up at the drake with a weary face. To this the drake gripped his plump shaft at its base and swatted it down between the tiger's eyes. Though amused by Stormy's flinch, he growled with complete seriousness, "Start sucking."

Stormy huffed a petulant groan just before engulfed Deihnyx's meat. Its shape was of unwanted familiarity to his suckling mouth and lapping tongue just as his maw was well-experienced by Deihnyx's flesh. In lieu of a fond pet or an encouraging croon or two, the drake clutched his armrests and called into the kitchen, "When is dinner?"

From the kitchen came a respectful female voice: "Within ten minutes, mister Deihnyx." It was a voice of utter professionalism, full of respect but not fear. The hired help had nothing to fear from the dragon, of course; but Stormy did.

"Very good," the drake called back with but a subtle twinge of pleasure in his tone. "Set two plates as usual." Gently clattering dishes and silverware answered the dragon and he considered the matter closed. "Harder, boy, suck it like you mean it," hissed Deihnyx.

Stormy obliged over his rumbling gut and tightening throat. He suckled with everything he had but the dragon was a ruthless connoisseur of sex, or so he told Stormy. If the tiger assumed that Deihnyx merely acted hard-to-please just for an excuse to abuse him, he might have been right.

"You're doing poorly at this," growled the dragon. Gone was the usual smirk upon his face, replaced with something much worse and fueled by anger. "Get back to my asshole," he hissed, and as Stormy obeyed and left that draconian shaft with a sheen of slobber, he added, "work your tongue in there."

Gay though he was, Stormy took no pleasure from his abuse at Deihnyx's brutal hand. Whatever climactic pleasure he helped the dragon to would be for nothing, since to fail a blowjob was itself a punishable offense. It was fear of the coming brutality which drove the tiger to try and redeem himself, thus he stuffed his rough tongue beyond the supple flesh which was the dragon's tail hole, slogging again into that virulent musk.

While Deihnyx harshly pumped his male flesh, Stormy lapped and slobbered the velvet walls under his tail with such eager speed and thoroughness as to be mistaken for passion. In all that time his nose was stuffed helplessly into the crook between Deihnyx's asshole and genital slit and all he could smell was the drake's off-putting musk; and yet, not unlike at work, Stormy found the smell of the dragon's musk preferable to suffering the teasing smell of dinner.

"Dinner in five minutes, mister Deihnyx," said the cook. Her vulpine face peered into the den but what she saw did nothing to surprise her.

Deihnyx was similarly jaded. He made eye contact with the vixen and masturbated still when he said, "Fetch Danny, let him know it's time to eat."

Five minutes was just enough time to rub one out and attend to pressing matters. Deihnyx clenched like a vise around Stormy's tongue both consciously and as the pleasure dictated. For special pleasure he groped his knot in a fist and bit his lip at the resulting pleasure. When that throttling was through, his cock spat a built-up wad of pre up over Stormy's head. Its bulk landed in the tiger's pretty hair and down his stripey back.

The drake's climax neared and he reckoned two or three minutes remained. Rather than command his live-in fuckthing to do as commanded, Deihnyx took matters into his own hands when he snatched the downy tuft of Stormy's hair and yanked back the feline, plucking that barbed tongue from his asshole for a burst of rough pleasure but the moan which passed Deihnyx's lips was eclipsed by Stormy's shriek. "There's gonna be more where that came from," Deihnyx snarled as he pumped harder and faster by the second, he all but ignoring his knot in favor of working the shaft. "Mouth open and tongue out!" he barked.

Nothing could be done for the tiger. Just as tears welled in his eyes at the pins and needles in his scalp, he opened his maw wide and his tongue slopped out like a feline impression of a lazy dog. Deihnyx kept him so close that his jerking hand bumped and punched the small tiger in the nose. When the orgasm at last struck, the drake grimaced to show all of his menacing teeth and he gripped his aching penis at the flared base. From the tip came a streamer of musky spunk which partly made it into Stormy's mouth, but mostly sullied that weeping face. Every other shot had similar aim, each rope of sticky cum partially feeding and soiling the tiger. When the climax was through and his cock only dribbled its watery dregs, Deihnyx braced his palm on the feline's face and shoved him back onto the rug. Deihnyx himself flopped back in his armchair and let loose a shuddering sigh.

"Dei, it's time to eat," said a gentle voice from the kitchen.

Deihnyx stood up and bore down on the tiger. "One moment, my love," he said in a dissonant tone to such a hard and toothy face. Deihnyx reared back as if to punt a ball and he swung his foot into the feline's ribs. His talons were blunt and their tips curved downwards, giving them the effect of a knuckle duster. The pain which radiated through Stormy's flank stirred up a gruesome and winded cry from the tiger's lips, and he swiftly curled in around his wounded side.

"You little bastard," Deihnyx grunted, "making me late for my supper just because you're too poor to afford one for yourself." He knelt and set one of his knees into the tiger's untouched flank. He pressed down with his muscular weight until the feline began to wince and wheeze. "You're lucky for now, boy," warned Deihnyx and with a familiar touch he gripped the side of Stormy's skull, narrowly missing an eye with razor-sharp claws. Twice he pounded the tiger's head into the floor to terrible effect, it being hardwood barely cushioned with a fine rug. When Stormy wailed in pain, Deihnyx pounded his head down again and again.

Blessed silence at last. Deihnyx checked to see that the boy was breathing, and it came to be that he was still conscious and merely cowering.

"Hey, Dei? You coming to eat?" that gentle voice called again.

But the dragon said nothing. He rolled Stormy onto his back, set his hard knee into the feline's gut and pressed down with all of his weight. Snout to snout and enforcing eye contact, Deihnyx rumbled in a tone better felt than heard, "You live on my mercy. Your piss-ant money barely covers the scraps I feed you. The next time I want my cock sucked, I don't want whining, I want results."

Stormy tried to speak. Instead he choked out an agonized sob. Deihnyx snorted both nostrils in his face, spat on his nose and pushed off of the tiger's gut with a heavy exertion. "Clean yourself up and get your greasy clothes out of my den. You'll be let into the kitchen when and if I say so."

Deihnyx trudged away to eat his dinner while sticky, bruised Stormy curled in upon himself and cried for a little while.

--3

For the sake of tormenting Stormy, Deihnyx remained in the kitchen for hours even after Danny wandered to the den and the help had long since cleared the table. There he resumed reading his book, his presence precluding the tiger's negligible, cold dinner.

All Stormy knew, however, was that he hadn't been told he could eat. He lingered in the basement, it being his given dwelling and a cramped one at that. Though Deihnyx's home was a luxuriant one, the basement was unfinished. Drafty, uncomfortably cold in any season and housing Deihnyx's less-prized possessions, it offered little room for the tiger whose existence there consisted of a busted futon with worn-flat cushions all stained with unmentionable fluids. Stormy's entertainment included old newspapers and investment magazines which Deihnyx generously gave him, and his own penis, though masturbation hadn't appealed to him in months.

Stormy wasn't in the mood to read. Deihnyx's musk hung on his snout like a jockstrap on a doorknob. His stomach was bunched into a knot. All of the stress and panic of the day had coagulated into a pulsing headache and the hunger was turning it into a migraine.

Well into the night when the tiger had convinced himself that he wouldn't be fed, gentle footfalls sounded on the stairs. From experience he knew them to be Danny's feline feet; for Deihnyx was a plodding beast when he descended to the basement. But even as comparatively kind as Danny was, he did treat the tiger with a noted detachment. Far removed from Deihnyx's outright abuse but still with a necessarily callous demeanor, Danny was best described as benign to Stormy unless the dragon demanded otherwise.

"Stormy," said Danny on the second to last step, "Dei says you can come and eat now." He stepped in further, flicked on the light and ignored the tiger's wince. Seeing clothes on Stormy's body, he almost coyly added, "You better come nude."

Food at last. Stormy shed his more casual house clothes and ascended hurriedly. Into the hall and around the bend into the den, around another corner to the kitchen, and Stormy set his eyes upon the cold remnants of Deihnyx and Danny's earlier meal. What had once been an expertly-seasoned potroast was then nothing but dregs of fat in congealed juices. It revolted Stormy but he tried to pluck the fat up in his trembling fingers. Twice he broke the chunks and they sluiced back into the pan before he scooped using his palm. When every last bit of fat was gone he turned his attention on the vegetables, turned mealy from the cold. Potatoes and carrots past their prime slid down his throat with very little need to be chewed. Last from the meal was a half-eaten biscuit turned to mush with melted butter. Stormy choked it down without a second thought.

From the threshold to the dining room watched Deihnyx, his black snout contrasted with grinning pearly teeth. To see Stormy demean himself for sustenance made the drake hard and his erection throbbed again beneath his khakis. For as coolly dressed as Deihnyx was with khaki pants and a button-down cream shirt, one wouldn't expect him to be such a foul pig, but the power he wielded in his place of work had a way of emboldening him into the sickest of abuses and the greatest of excesses.

Deihnyx stepped up behind Stormy as the tiger looked through the dishes for scraps. With all his clattering, Stormy didn't hear the drake's talon tips clicking on the tile and so he was startled but reflexively submissive when Deihnyx grabbed his behind. His ass cheeks filled both of the dragon's heavy hands and from those cruel lips came a lewd remark. "You lift your tail up as soon as I go for your ass now. Somebody's learning."

Both of Stormy's paws gripped the edge of the countertop. Slaves didn't need light to eat and so the kitchen was lit secondhand by the lamp in the den. To be molested with unwanted penetration in his immediate future was made so much worse for Stormy by suffering it in near-darkness where Deihnyx's dark body blended with the shadows and his intimidating rumbles precluded speech. "Please, I'm still sore from last night," Stormy bleated.

"And the night before last, and the night before that," Deihnyx sneered. He wrapped his arms around the tiger and squeezed him in close. The khaki tent of his cock frotted between the tiger's prone and bare ass cheeks. "You say that every night like you expect me to give a shit," mused Deihnyx. "Guess it's your subtle way of saying you want it harder, hm?"

"It really isn't," Stormy grunted. "Dei, please..."

The drake eased back but only to unbutton and unzip his fly. With a whisper, his khakis fell to his ankles and his knotted dragon meat luridly slipped between the tiger's cheeks.

"Please," Stormy whined. Deihnyx was stoic as he notched his pointed tip against the feline's puckered tail hole. One more time, Stormy pleaded with him for mercy. At that the drake rammed it forward, sank it in the tiger's ass and wrenched forth the most miserable yowl imaginable. The bucks came harshly, punctuating the unfortunate reality of Stormy's servitude. Tears ran down Stormy's cheeks, dribbling over teeth bared in an agonized grimace as the dragon raped him against the countertop.

Rumbles which Stormy had long associated with Deihnyx's sexual abuse echoed in the dragon's chest. Lust kept Deihnyx pounding the tiger but there was no instinct, no purpose beyond cruelty when he grabbed the poor kitty by the throat, squeezed and pulled him up taut. Those warbled cries of Stormy's tapered off into a gurgle and his asshole clenched violently at this strangulation. It was pitiful when he reached up and put both small paws on Deihnyx's rough mitt to pry it away, and there was no way a starved little tiger could defy a mighty drake.

Deihnyx exerted his grip to its greatest extent when he arched his back to pitch his member up. He hoisted Stormy by the throat until his feet dangled off the tile, flailing until suffocation settled in. Former rumbles from Deihnyx graduated into vitriolic snarls as the dragon rutted and raped Stormy for everything his worn-out ass was worth. Even that fat knot down at the bottom of his cock was in on the fun, for with every buck he sank it and plucked it back out. A veneer of blood from the tiger's asshole coated his penis and lent its purple flesh a mottled shade which Deihnyx would undoubtedly sic the tiger's tongue on soon enough.

As if this were the most natural thing in the world, Danny padded into the kitchen and flicked on the light. Deihnyx glanced to Danny but soon returned to his task; and Stormy was falling limp and blue in the cheeks, though the unwanted anal stimulation left his tapered feline shaft bared and engorged with all its barbs flared.

Danny was like Deihnyx only in his dominantly black colors. Submissive to Deihnyx's sadistic whims and reluctantly appreciative of Stormy's sexual availability, he found himself watching the dragon work while he treated himself to chocolate eclair for dessert. With his cutely mismatched blue and yellow eyes, he observed in a detached way the manner in which Deihnyx grunted and snarled as he fucked the increasingly limp Stormy.

Only once did Deihnyx ease up, to which Stormy sucked in all of the air he could. In a sudden frenzy he thrashed and sobbed but his attempts to claw were futile as they always were since Deihnyx forced the tiger to keep his claws short and blunt. But even if the tiger was harmless, his thrashing was detrimental to the drake's timely climax. A crude snarl welled up in the dragon's throat when he twisted and shoved Stormy off of his cock and down to the floor. The tiger fell to the tile and barely caught himself at Danny's feet.

"Oh my god," Stormy gasped as Deihnyx descended on him and mounted up again, burying his bloodstained cock to the hilt once more. He grappled at Danny's feet but the cat stood calmly and flicked his tail. "Help me, please," he sobbed.

"Kick him," Deihnyx hissed through grinning teeth. "Right in his fucking crybaby face!"

Danny was not a sadist - at least not openly - but under Deihnyx's command he had the capacity for casual violence. He gripped his plate and even with chocolate dabbed on his lip, he reeled back and kicked Stormy in the muzzle just as the tiger braced and recoiled. All of the well-groomed softness of his foot counted for nothing when he crashed it into the slave's face and when Deihnyx called for another kick, Danny obliged with greater force.

Stormy's head throbbed more than ever and for more than one reason but it was the ripping and raping of his asshole which put him in the most distress. The wails and sobs which passed his lips were such pitiful and broken sounds, the tiger knowing full well that his cries would only summon greater cruelty and yet he couldn't stifle them. Deihnyx bore down like a jackhammer with his hard pelvis and his meaty hands curled around hapless Stormy's shoulders to bear the brunt of the drake's weight.

As he roared bestially in his nearing climax, Deihnyx's abusiveness worsened. It was absurd to believe that such a reamed and swollen tail hole could possibly provide any sort of pleasure to the drake anymore and yet Deihnyx was fully invested in dumping his load. Through another deafening cry which made glasses chatter and startled both felines to pin back their ears, Deihnyx buried his knotted cock just as he delivered a blast of heated dragon seed into the tiger's anal walls. Even in his climax and nearing afterglow, however, Deihnyx was still a cruel beast, and so he yanked his cock free in the last moments of his release just so he could shoot his cum up onto the tiger's back and add fresh white stripes to his coat.

Deihnyx sighed long and low before he growled, "Danny."

The cat set down his plate, leaving only a single bite of eclair on it. "Uh huh?"

Satiated enough, Deihnyx stood and gazed down on the weeping tiger. His knotted cock dribbled the dregs of its recent release and the flesh was smeared with congealing blood; and a glance at the tiger's pucker revealed how lewdly gaped and raw it was, and drooling from it was a mess of semen mingled into blood for a sickening discharge.

"Pull him up to his knees," Deihnyx growled. "Turn him around. He won't move on his own."

Stormy surprised Deihnyx when he moved without Danny's influence. The tiger ended up sagging on his knees, wobbling as if he were about to pass out. He gazed up into Deihnyx's icy blue eyes, his own raw and bloodshot.

Admiration was never an emotion Deihnyx felt for Stormy. That the tiger could pull himself up after so much abuse was unexpected but not necessarily appreciated. The end result was the same, however, in that Deihnyx gripped the back of the tiger's head and jammed his dirty cock past those quivering lips. "Suck the blood off of it," he growled; and Stormy obeyed. It wasn't the first time the drake had stuck it in his mouth dirty and he knew, with some resignation, that it wouldn't be the last. By the time the dragon pulled back yet still held Stormy taut, his shaft glistened with slobber and not a trace of blood lingered on it.

A sneer crept across the dragon's snout. "Fuck him, Danny," said Deihnyx.

Stormy mistook it as kindness when Danny replied, "I'm not up for it, but could I sit on his face?" Almost like an afterthought but with a gleam in his eye, the cat amended, "I could rough him up too, maybe kick his ribs or stomp his balls if you'd like that..."

"Do what you want," Deihnyx lowly chuckled. When he unhanded Stormy's head the tiger nearly toppled back, but Danny grabbed him and made him lie back anyway. While his feline lover undressed and his slave wept, Deihnyx murmured, "I'm off to shower and sleep."

"Is Desmond still coming here tomorrow?" asked a topless Danny, working on his pants.

This was a new name to Stormy and one he put no thought into. Deihnyx being the a mighty CEO saw him constantly courting any number of colleagues and partner-hopefuls.

"He is," Deihnyx answered. "We have some catching-up to do, after all," and he plodded off with heavy footsteps shaking the floor.

"Heh, there he goes," Danny murmured as Deihnyx's footsteps grew faint. "Looks like it's just the two of us now," the cat grinned down to stormy, standing with his blunt shaft bare.

"Danny, go easy on me," Stormy groaned. "I'll rim you, I'll blow you, anything you want, just be gentle..."

Danny chuckled coyly. A very feline swish of his tail compounded his mischief. "Sto-o-ormy, do you expect me to betray Dei's trust? I told him I was gonna beat the crap out of you." While the dry threat hung in the air like a miasma, Danny lifted a demure kitty paw and set it upon the tiger's gut. Even a trim cat like Danny could feel like all the weight in the world on a tender bodily cavity and when he pressed down with his toes, Stormy wheezed and clamped his eyes shut.

"Do you really want Deihnyx disappointed? He won't take it out on me," the cat grinned. Back and forth his tail flicked, its fluid movements smug in their own way. It was with all of his natural graces that he pulled up the foot not buried in Stormy's belly and swung it in a punt kick up into his fellow feline's naked crotch. To hear the winded and pained moan which escaped Stormy's lips and to see the twisted agony on his face would have delighted Deihnyx and made him proud of Danny.

Relatively alone with Stormy where only the apathetic help could possibly hear or see, Danny snickered impishly and pinned the tiger's crotch underfoot. Aligned like so with his arms slight splayed for balance, Danny looked as if he were up on a tightrope. He ground his heel into the tiger's balls and pinched his sheath in the claws.

For every ounce of pain, Stormy squealed and thrashed. It was an involuntary bucking from someone too submissive to consciously try to throw off his attacker, but whatever the motive behind his thrashing was, Danny was much too well-balanced to be disturbed by it. If anything the cat enhanced his acrobatics by pushing off of Stormy's groin for an extra-special yelp. With grace he put both paws down on the tiger's ribs, the tips of the toes digging in.

Finally Danny stepped off of the wheezing and sobbing tiger. He knelt between Stormy's legs and spread them far apart, and it was here that he uttered a soft but deathly serious command to hold his legs apart. Danny gripped his blunt shaft, its length unencumbered by a sheath unlike Stormy's. Nothing about the cat's penis was feline, this being just a genetic curiosity.

A gentle prod of his blunt cock to Stormy's bloody and gaped tail hole shook Stormy into a gasp and a wince. "Danny, don't," Stormy bleated, "I can't take it."

"You can," Danny smiled, "and you will, so shush." Though it was no surprise to Stormy when Danny pushed forward and entered him, he whimpered just the same. Tears dribbled down the tiger's cheeks with each sting of pain, and as if the stretch hadn't been enough pain, he could feel the clotting wounds ripping open again; and Danny's cock was soon smeared with fresh red blood just as Deihnyx's had been. Every day, every night, Stormy suffered those anal wounds anew and the realization that he was simply stuck under Deihnyx's iron fist saw him break down and sob.

There was a sneer spreading across Danny's cute, short snout when he asked, "What's wrong now? It can't hurt that much." Of note was his lack of sympathy in that his hips hadn't slowed at all. The rhythm with which he fucked Stormy's wrecked behind was steady yet rather gentle.

"Danny," Stormy moaned, "I'm stuck here, I can't get away! Dei's not gonna let me move out on my own and I can't live in a shelter... I don't want to die here."

Danny hummed thoughtfully as he leaned over Stormy. At first the tiger thought Danny wanted to get a better look at his eyes. Instead the cat quickened his pace and scratched his claws on the tile.

Suffering mounting pain, Stormy winced and hissed. "God, say something," he pitifully gasped.

"Shut your mouth, how about that?" Danny coolly offered. "The way I see it," he grunted with a balls-deep buck, "is that you work a minimum-wage job to sleep in a manor with ten bedrooms and then you have the nerve to complain when Dei wants a little sex. No wonder you're still scrubbing toilets, you're so entitled," the cat chuckled.

"I hate you," Stormy whined. "I fucking hate you both!"

Mindful of his claws and not wanting to tear Stormy's eyes out, Danny smacked him across the face backhanded. With a tight feline rumble he warned, "I'm willing to pretend I didn't hear that." As the gravity of Stormy's own remark settled in, Danny buried his cock to the base and hunkered down against the tiger. Nose to nose and well aware of Deihnyx's heady musk hanging on the tiger's snout, Danny hissed, "If Dei finds out you said that, getting tossed out is gonna be the least of your worries." He paused, narrowed his eyes until they appeared like slits, and grinned. "I'm willing to pretend you didn't say it," he reiterated, and he took up fucking the tiger's raw ass again, this time with no finesse. Despite being nowhere as large or strong as Deihnyx, Danny raped Stormy well enough to make the drake proud and he had the blue-striped tiger yowling and gasping, but never begging for mercy. It seemed that Stormy did at least grasp that no mercy awaited him.

Once Danny pressed flush to Stormy and his long tail lashed above his ass, it looked like Danny were making love to the tiger but with Stormy's sobs and shrill squeaks, it was anything but a tender moment. Over and over again, Danny pounded his blunt member into the tiger solely for his own pleasure but it had the effect of keeping those anal rips fresh. Despite Stormy's plaintive cries, Danny had made it clear that he wouldn't stop until he had gotten off; and whether or not it was fortunate for Stormy, the cat passionately hissed when his climax washed over him.

Harsh, rapid bucks gave over to slower yet firmer grinds as Danny sank to the hilt again and again to get that last bit of stimulation. A heavy shudder and a dramatic feline arch of his spine marked his climax and he promptly shot his load into the tiger bitch. Deep in Stormy's ass, Danny's seed mingled with Deihnyx's release. The two loads would undoubtedly drizzle out in the coming hours to keep Stormy's wounds stinging. Danny yanked his cock out of that wrecked asshole and, not unlike Deihnyx, stood up and sneered down at Stormy.

The tiger knew what he needed to do next but he first awkwardly reached down and put fingers on his sullied anus. Merely touching the gaping ring made him shudder. To feel the blood-laced semen oozing from his innards and caking the wounds made him cringe and wince. Too often had he felt that awful sting.

Panting against the pain, Stormy pushed himself up to his knees. Without thinking and merely acting on instinct, he took Danny's bloody cock into his maw and he cleaned the flesh with wet sucks and brisk laps. When it was clean of blood, he fell slack on his knees but stayed upright at the very least.

"You give a great spit-shine," Danny remarked with a coy smile as his dark cock fell flaccid. Stormy was a slave of unlimited possibilities but Danny knew better than to ruthlessly partake of them himself. No, the tiger was primarily Deihnyx's plaything, but cruel thoughts raced through his mind and a grin spread across his face.

"What? What is it now?" Stormy hopelessly bleated.

"Just thinking. Go to bed," Danny said, enigmatically.

--4

Stormy limped down the stairs and past boxes of Deihnyx's and Danny's assorted, unwanted junk on the way to his worn-out futon. By the light of a dim lamp, he brushed the stained cover and did his best to make it a more comfortable nest to sleep in but it was a lost cause. The frame was bent, the springs were wallowed out, and the cushions were crushed and smelly. No matter how presentable he made it, it collapsed like a house of cards every time he mounted it. Predictably, it creaked and folded into a subtle but very uncomfortable V shape as Stormy climbed on. He resigned himself to his fate and stared at the ceiling.

A single tear rolled down his cheek at pains on his body and in his mind. Revulsion and fear for Deihnyx and Danny; hatred for his job; complete disgust at his terrible life. Never was Stormy so desperate for release as to kill himself, but in his darkest moments he could see where someone might court the idea.

Just after Stormy turned off his light and rolled over, heavy and familiar footsteps trundled down the steps. It was Deihnyx, and this realization sent a shiver down Stormy's spine. The drake never came down to the basement except for the gravest of offenses and Stormy feared for his well-being.

Deihnyx's feet fell more quietly when he hit the foundation. Stormy heard no leaden thuds but merely the clicks of his talons on the floor as he grew near. He loomed over the bed, undoubtedly staring. His breathing was well-controlled but that meant nothing. Tranquil fury was the deadliest of all.

The dragon turned the light on and Stormy flinched upon realizing how close he was. He dared not to ask what Deihnyx wanted. It couldn't possibly have been pleasant.

"According to Danny," said Deihnyx, whom stood nude and whose hide gleamed after bathing, "you hate me. You hate both of us, in fact." Stormy cowered and pressed into the back cushions of his futon. "If I must be honest, I'm surprised," the dragon sneered. "I've gone over it before, but let me count the ways I spoil you. Shelter; food; and all the sex a sissy little tiger like you could ever want, yet you hate me?"

"Dei, please let me explain," Stormy squeaked.

"Fine, explain," Deihnyx snorted.

Stormy choked up. He hadn't expected the chance and so he faltered. The tiger couldn't lie to authority without stammering and stuttering and Deihnyx knew this tic well. It persisted despite attempts to beat it out of him.

"No? Nothing?" Deihnyx asked. He drew his lip up and bared his teeth. "Just as I thought."

With a heavy hand, Deihnyx tweaked and palmed his genital slit. To see the knotted dragon flesh within emerge had Stormy ready to lift his tail and close his mouth but the drake made no further moves. "Hatred is a silly emotion, it's better suited to a fussy teenager. You're no child," he growled, "and while I'm undoubtedly a great many things to you, I'm not your father. Remember that you're in this situation of your own doing."

Stormy should have known what the dragon was up to but he let himself be surprised. Deihnyx pissed on him without grace and he went so far as to aim for the tiger's face. A pitiful squeal welled up in Stormy's throat when the piss burned his eyes. His cry degraded into a gurgle when the stream splashed into his mouth. Deihnyx gave the tiger a generalized hosing then, all the while smirking like the cruel benefactor he knew himself to be. From head to toe he doused his indentured fuckthing whom held still but wept in a very stimulating manner to the black dragon.

The stream tapered off but the ordeal wasn't quite over. Deihnyx grabbed Stormy, rolled him and pinned his frail body face-down. He ignored the nasty, spongy squish of the cushions when he knelt and straddled the tiger. The benefit of leathery hide was how easily it rinsed off.

Wearing his nastiest grin imaginable, Deihnyx rammed his cock into Stormy's ass without a second thought, knot and all in the sniveling bitch whom shrieked. The drake resumed his pissing with a soft grunt deep in Stormy's abused bowels. For all the sickness Stormy had been subjected to, piss under the tail was a new one and he mewled helplessly. Not even Deihnyx's formidable knot could keep a seal in that worn-out tail hole and so hot piss washed out of Stormy's behind and coated his balls and thighs on its way to dirty the already-fetid cushions. When he was through, Deihnyx carelessly yanked his cock free from the tiger's asshole, and he gave his hip one harsh smack to overstate his dominion.

"There you are," he curtly grunted. He shut the light off and spat on the weeping tiger's back. "Now you've got a good reason to hate me."

--5

As he often did, Stormy wondered now how he ended up in this mire. It was Saturday morning and he had been permitted a shower, but clothing was denied. This wasn't a new occurrence for Stormy but it was no less humiliating to have his bruises and privates laid bare.

Stormy's morning had been a quiet one. After informing Stormy what he could and couldn't do, Deihnyx left without even a kiss on Danny's cheek. As he often did in Deihnyx's absence, Danny played video games. Stormy whom was forbidden from any of the televisions read books in the den, but in the middle of his attempt to read one of Deihnyx's stuffy novels, Stormy succumbed to his exhaustion on the sofa. As he lie unconscious, rain began to fall outside. Autumn showers rendered the outdoors especially dreary and the sun was out blotted by bloated clouds.

Late in the afternoon, the subtle chimes of the driveway alarm sounded. Stormy stirred as if he'd heard an alarm clock, for this was his Pavlovian reaction to the chimes, having been beaten for being asleep upon Deihnyx's return in the past. He shelved the novel and waited in the den with a grim face. He saw the sleek lines of Deihnyx's sports car coming up the driveway, quickly disappearing around the manor and into the garage. Stormy's day was about to properly begin, but not even such a paranoid slave could have known what was coming.

--6

A guest strode into the den ahead of Deihnyx. Though a head shorter than the drake, he carried with him great authority. The way he spoke to the drake nailed that much down. "Let's see your little fuckthing, then," he said, and then his eyes met Stormy's. They sized each other up and Stormy saw him as a fox with raccoon marks and sissy blonde hair, wearing the same kind of well-fitting khaki and polo as Deihnyx often did. This foxcoon wasn't intimidating in size, but Stormy was put off by the piercing gleam in his gaze.

"Oh, that's cute. A sissy twink-boy," the stranger said as he strode closer. As if observing a zoo animal, he halted a few feet away and leaned over to get a better look at the tiger. "What a little fag." Turning his head for a sideways glance at Deihnyx, he smirked to say, "You must still be sore that you never got up under my tail."

Deihnyx chuckled and thumped his guest's prone ass with his long tail before he took to his armchair. The guest apparently ignored the strike and he took to end of the sofa opposite Stormy. The tiger followed the foxcoon from the corner of his eye as if nervous to look directly at him. "What's with the scar?" asked the guest, clearly not addressing Stormy. "Did you put that there?"

"I wish," Deihnyx snorted. Brusquely, "Stormy, this is Desmond. You'll show him the same respect you show me."

Desmond grinned from ear to ear. "I used to nail your master here whenever I felt like it," he said with a glance at the drake whom narrowed his eyes. "The first time... I found him drunk in our dorm after a party. I tied him to the bed."

"Desmond, shut it," Deihnyx grunted.

"Hey, your little homo might as well know what he's in for," Desmond sneered, but he decided to leave it at that after all. "I wonder if he'll start to like it like you did."

"He hasn't yet," Deihnyx murmured. He called for Danny whom made his appearance and gave Desmond a familiar, gentle hug.

"You look as good as ever," Desmond cooed. "Has Dei fucked you even half as well as I did?" he said with a bob of his eyebrows.

Danny was inclined to take his lover's side but his body language betrayed a few secrets. Deihnyx shortly suggested a change of venue, and in a rare moment for the slave, Stormy was permitted in the kitchen with his masters.

Drinks were poured and the rain worsened. Stormy peered out the kitchen window at the melancholy scene but before he could reflect too strongly upon it, Desmond jabbed him with a foot in the ribs and made him yelp.

"Can you talk?" the foxcoon sneered.

"Yes," Stormy said lowly.

"Oh, so you're just a pussy," Desmond said matter-of-factly. "Thanks for clearing it up." Deihnyx had a good laugh and Danny grinned. "Did he come this wimpy or did you beat him into submission?"

Deihnyx sipped his whiskey, a simple taste for a rich man. "It's a bit of both," he reservedly said, "though he's conditioned to lick your cock clean after you sodomize him. Good conditioning there."

"Really now," Desmond murmured with an evil eye leering down on Stormy. The tiger was of course relegated to kneeling and sitting on the floor. "How about a look at his ass?"

Stormy started up but Danny hopped from his chair and left his light drink where it was. The tiger bent over of his own accord and Danny yanked his tail up high to truly offer his prostrate behind, this spurring Stormy to a yelp.

"Thank you, Danny," Deihnyx rumbled as he stared appreciatively at that fine round behind.

Desmond licked his lips. "Pull the cheeks apart," he said before he wet his lips with a sip of whiskey. Danny obliged and thus bared Stormy's abused asshole, its rim loose but washed clean of blood and semen. "Looks like a flat tire," the foxcoon smirked. "You must put him through his paces."

The dragon downed what remained of his drink and sighed heavily at the pleasant burn. What was strong to Desmond and Danny, however, was just mild to a black dragon. "I make a point of fucking him once a night. He never seems to grow used to the knot."

"You never did either," Desmond snickered. "All right, Danny, you can sit down." While the cat retook his seat and Stormy did the same on the floor, Desmond remarked, "I doubt you brought me over here just so we could reminisce about college, Dei... Am I getting a turn with this little pussy or what?"

A wry smirk flickered across Deihnyx's snout. "You might've fucked me in college and I know Danny gave it up for you as soon as you met him, but I own this boy. What's your pleasure worth?"

Here Desmond rolled his eyes and tugged a bankroll out of his hip pocket. He slammed it down on the table, and there it lay unmolested, slowly unfurling of its own accord. "We'll figure out what he's worth." Desmond unbuttoned and shoved down his pants, and he closed in on Stormy. Kicking a slave around was faster and much more direct than issuing it commands and Desmond demonstrated his impatience when he kicked the tiger in the chest. Stormy made a pitiful whuff! and flopped back onto the tile in a sprawl. Desmond descended on him with a dark, chuckling snarl and he parked his taut ass against the tiger's snout, squatting and facing away from his scrawny body.

Stormy whimpered when Desmond's musky pink pucker ground so luridly into his nose. The grind precluded any rimming and the foxcoon wasn't so contradictory as to expect or demand it. It was his intent to smother and humiliate Stormy and he did just that with rude, lewd grinds downward, smearing his delicately clean yet lewdly-scented asshole all over that short and quivering snout.

"Usually we sit back and just let him rim us," Danny mused, flicking the skewered olive in his drink.

"Good for you," Desmond curtly growled, continuing his rough grinds. Beneath, Stormy fidgeted and whimpered, gasping for breath in the warm cleft of Desmond's ass cheeks. Another more shrill noise came when Desmond gripped his hair and yanked it down against the floor. For a clearly hair-enamored homosexual like Desmond to abuse Stormy's hair suggested more cruelty than even the sadistic Deihnyx realized.

Against the musk-infused fur and flesh of Stormy's snout and hapless nose, Desmond's pucker quivered and winked. Lowly he asked whomever had the answer, "Does he drink piss?"

"Wears it too," Danny chimed in.

"And regularly," Deihnyx rumbled in a tone laced with arousal. Rather than suffer the stuffy crotch of his khakis, he unbuttoned his trousers then and there and allowed his knotted dragon cock to emerge from his fly.

"Fun to know," Desmond chuckled. As quickly as he'd started, he released Stormy's hair but he pressed his taut ass more firmly down into the tiger's face. "Bring me another drink. Make it something strong, I'm sick of your cheap whiskey."

The smirk on Deihnyx's face was aimed at both Desmond's musky smothering of Stormy's face and the fox's typical remarks. "Fix Desmond a nice drink," he flatly said to Danny without looking at the cat.

"Whatever it is, make it a double," the foxcoon huffed. He shoved his ass downward with extra force and Stormy's skull bashed into the tile, disorienting the tiger and startling him to suck in a very deep breath.

The pitiful sounds of Stormy's ongoing smothering went on and on as Danny pilfered through the liquor cabinet, tail swishing curiously. Something strong was in order. He brushed past the cheap whiskey, ignored the vodka and finally settled on the absinthe.

Deihnyx watched with a quirked eye ridge as his feline lover padded back with a decorative bottle in his paws. "Pour a glass for me while you're at it," said the drake, plunking down his glass which had droplets of whiskey still in the bottom.

A moment later, Danny strode up to Desmond clutching a dull glass tumbler with vibrantly green absinthe within. After just one pensive sniff, Desmond ceased his grinds down on Stormy's snout and chuckled as the tiger whimpered and writhed, "Absinthe, huh? Good choice." He had a sip, and then another, and another after that to chase them down. In a worrisomely short moment, the glass was empty and Desmond thrust it back into Danny's paw.

As a taste not unlike licorice and kerosene sizzled down his throat, Desmond felt the first twinges of the buzz he'd been waiting for. He rolled ungraciously off of Stormy's face and landed with a bump on his ass. Rapidly vanishing was that foxy surefootedness of his, replaced by something more lumbering and ominous. It was with a lewd snarl that Desmond lunged over Stormy, and he forced a savage kiss upon the broken tiger.

One-sided and dominated by Desmond's slobbery tongue, the kiss served only to worsen the feeling of dread in Stormy's gut. The justification for this dread came when Desmond rammed two very dry fingers home in Stormy's sore asshole, the loose pucker of which clenched to unwittingly enhance the nightmarish pain. Stormy squealed into the kiss and bit on Desmond's tongue. He immediately loathed his reflexes when the foxcoon yanked free of the kiss and chomped down on his prone throat.

Though the fog in his head was getting thicker, Desmond was not, and nor would he ever be far gone enough to rip Stormy's throat out. He pinched the flesh and nipped the Adam's apple but this was a mere warning, a shadow of a more feral overreaction which he kept buried. More painful and much more upsetting was the manner in which Desmond violently fingerfucked the tiger. Grinding into Stormy's leg was the result of the rimming - Desmond's swollen erection, a pink cock with a fat knot at its base. The foxcoon wasn't as hung as Deihnyx but the knot, as a canine feature, was far more dramatic in its girth. Stormy feared it.

"I can't believe how fucking loose his asshole is," Desmond said with a graceless belch at the start right across Stormy's face. "You never could take care of your toys, Dei!"

Deihnyx sipped at his absinthe, the glass nearly full. It was, however, his second helping. He thoughtfully tweaked his cock. "Neither could you," he remarked. "You never cared how much I hated your knot."

"Heh, you had the decency to cum for me at least," Desmond sniggered. He pulled his fingers back out of Stormy but didn't bother to look at them. Bright red blood caked the fur.

"Uhn, god," Stormy winced in a pitifully resigned tone. There was no fight in his voice. There hadn't been for months.

Stormy's broken will was exactly the reason why when Desmond staggered up to his feet and demanded anal, he was met with simple compliance. Stormy rose to shaky feet and braced his paws on the counter, and then he felt Desmond's paws on his hips. They were soft and Stormy found that he liked the feeling of the pads, but soon he felt Desmond's swollen cock poking at his ass crack and he was back to hating everything again. Desmond grasped his swollen penis at its knotted base and he pushed it forward with, of course, no care but for his own pleasure. This sharp and brutal entry was not without a sharp cry muffled through clenched teeth from Stormy, but the foxcoon openly moaned for it.

"Agh," Stormy panted as his gaped anus felt Desmond's knot, "Desmond, please don't knot me, please..."

"Hah, it said my name," Desmond said in a deadly, drunken sneer. One paw clapped down on Stormy's hip. With the other he reached around and gripped the tiger by the balls for a squeeze and a jerk. The sudden yowl which cut through the air was walked over by Desmond's vicious snarl, "Fucking clench! Say my name again and these," punctuated by a brutal yank on the tiger's balls, "are coming the fuck off!"

Indentured servant Stormy knew enough about obedience and respect to know not to question Desmond's threat. He had learned that when a threat was too outlandish to really follow through on, something of comparable brutality often filled the void. He clenched tightly and ground his ass back, the pain of the stretch and more so his aching balls be damned. Obedience drove him to buck back even when his tail hole ripped itself back open and blood drizzled down Desmond's cock. Hot, wet pre burned his wounds but slicked his walls, the moisture blessing and torturous. In all his stress, he panted and sobbed but he didn't speak another word.

"Heh, nice," Deihnyx murmured at the sight as he thumbed through the bankroll. Danny was sipping some absinthe of his own, stroking himself lazily. "I think all of this covers what you're doing there, actually..."

"Did Desmond really fuck you back in college?" Danny whispered to Deihnyx. The dragon muttered something but answered nothing.

"Damn right I did," Desmond sneered at the two of them, though Deihnyx's money-counting was lost on Desmond. "Rrf, clench on me, you pussy," Desmond angrily snarled to Stormy, throwing his hips into the tiger's asshole with everything he had in his drunk body. His knot was too thick to so easily enter Stormy but the flesh itself punched the tiger's abused pucker, bruising flesh which had already been to the limits of raw pain. Though his paws were soft and could love, they showed no such emotion as they gripped Stormy's hips. His blunt claws pricked the flesh, adding more pain to what was already agony.

Stormy's vow of silence broke but the words which came forth were broken up by sobs, left in stammering syllables. "I am--, I'm trying so hard...!"

"Not hard enough!" Desmond panted with rougher, meaner bucks inward and yanks back on the tiger's hips to achieve a fucking only a drunk sadist could.

Deihnyx and Danny watched in rapt attention and listened intently as Stormy squealed and sobbed to match Desmond's hideous snarls.

That sweet moment Desmond had been craving came at last when he tied the knot. Between raw aggression and endless cruelty, he bullied his fat knot past the tiger's asshole and the noise Stormy made was unlike anything Deihnyx had quite been able to wrench out of him. It was like a quavering squeal, the sort of noise a tigress in heat might make, yet it was clearly twisted by horrible pain, and in the very last moments of its short life it took on a pitiful drone, this being the sound of Stormy's will as it was wrung out.

Most nuances of Stormy's cry were lost under Desmond's victorious snarling when the foxcoon came. As far as drunk climaxes went, it was something special. To so spectacularly rape a sniveling fuckthing like Stormy took him back in time to his college days with Deihnyx - tossing the dragon's tail over his shoulder, rutting his ass until the sun peeked through the blinds, stretching that asshole around his fat knot and hearing those bonded cries. It was all so nostalgic.

Potent foxcoon seed sluiced into the tiger's sorely-abused rear but the knot itself kept the salty payload away from Stormy's pucker, this being a fairly significant mercy, for that was where the bloody rips were, but even with that pain spared for the moment, Stormy trembled in obviously overwhelming pain. Tears streamed down his cheeks like the rain down the window and pitiful sobs wracked his body.

"Fucking shit," Desmond panted, his afterglow settling in neatly. Too drunk to stand and exhausted by his climax, Desmond pulled Stormy down with him as he flopped onto his back, and the tiger uneasily sat upon his hips. "Hey Danny?"

The cat had an impish smile plastered across his face. "What's up?"

"Get the bitch a nice, strong drink. Make it a double," Desmond grinned.

That sounds really good right now, actually, Stormy thought with nothing but defeat on his mind. That his tapered feline cock was exposed was of no matter to him. The alleged pleasure he felt was a bastard feeling. That no one had remarked on his erection was far from a surprise.

As Danny poured another drink and this time quite sloppily, Deihnyx hummed in thought "Put it in a bigger glass," he remarked.

Danny wasn't one to question the drake. He poured the absinthe into a plastic tumbler cup. Before he could even think of handing it to Stormy whom looked desperately at the drink, the dragon took it and stood up from his chair with a crude smirk.

"I have yet to see you drink any liquor," said the dragon in cold deadpan, "so in my infinite compassion for you, I'm going to give you something familiar as a mixer."

What Deihnyx did then came as no surprise to Stormy. He stared blankly as the dragon held the cup low and aimed his penis into its rim. A trickle, then a stream, and just as quickly a trickle again of darkly-hued piss ripe with draconian musk washed into the cup. Deihnyx tapped his cock, shaking the dribbles off into the glass. With a claw in lieu of a swizzle stick, he stirred the drink and thoughtfully sucked his digit clean before he held the concoction out for the tiger.

Stormy stared into the glass, watching the sickly yellow-green drink ripple. It was enough to make his stomach turn. "I... I can't."

"Drink it!" Desmond snapped.

Stormy flinched but he snapped the cup up to his lips. Just as he expected, the rank stench of absinthe and piss hit him like a truck. It made him screw his nostrils up and the ammonia in it left his eyes watering and squinting. "Oh my god," he moaned - and then he gulped. One gulp led to another and another still. Half of the drink was already slopping down to his gullet and the scent backwashed his sinuses and made him cough.

The foxcoon cackled with sadistic delight. "Drink the rest of it," he said in sudden sternness, "or I'll hold your muzzle shut and piss in your nose to wash it down."

"Yes, drink it down," Deihnyx chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. It didn't matter how blue his eyes were. The evil in them was subtle like a thunderclap.

Rather than try to bear Deihnyx's eyes, Stormy peered into the cup. Already the potent absinthe played with his head. The fumes mingled with the stink of piss, oxidizing while the liquid itself metabolized in his body. He shuddered, tipped the glass and chugged the rest of the cocktail as fast as he could. He didn't care that chugging liquor was a fast track to oblivion. Anything he could do to get rid of the stench was worthwhile.

"What a fucking whore," Desmond said with a thoughtful hum.

"It's gone, all right? I just did," Stormy belched petitely and finished in a wheezy rasp, "I did what you told me to do."

"You did," the foxcoon said. His eyes rolled slowly over to Danny. Even on the floor, he had authority in his gaze. "Fix him another. You put the mixer in this time."

As Danny took the glass and made a fresh new drink, Stormy whimpered and hugged his stomach while the piss and liquor played evil games with his gut. Danny had no pleasure on his face when he angled his cock into the glass and gave it his own special rinse, though he did crack a tight smile at Desmond when he handed the glass back to the beleaguered slave.

Stormy learned two things as he chugged this second drink. The first was that he had almost no tolerance for hard liquor, absinthe especially. Secondly, Danny's piss was just as off-putting than Deihnyx's had been, heavy musk being a feline trait.

When the drink was gone, Stormy belched into the open air. Everybody laughed, himself included for only a brief, drunken giggle. "Okay... All right, I can't drink anymore, please," he bleated with sudden desperation to nobody in particular.

"Cute, you act like you have a choice," Desmond said with a snort of laughter, his paw closing around the tiger's balls, but gently. Stormy didn't appreciate this gentle molestation much more than the abuse.

"Please," Stormy whined.

"Fine, fine, you're cut off," Deihnyx snorted. Already standing up, he yawned, stretched out and carefully splayed his great, red wings through which no light passed.

Desmond continued to palm Stormy's crotch, this absent faggotry putting a smile on at least Danny's face. "Tired already? You always tuckered out fast when I was nailing you," the foxcoon cheekily recounted for Deihnyx.

"I have nothing to prove," Deihnyx grinned. "You're the long-haired twink who asserts himself on everybody. But no, I'm not tired," he said, starting for the den. Out of his fly, his long, knotted shaft wagged enticingly with each step. "I just want to sit on something soft. Since Stormy's face isn't an option, my furniture will do."

Danny glanced at Stormy, then Desmond before he shrugged and followed the drake.

"We'll be right along," Desmond called to the cat, Deihnyx by extension. With evil, drunk eyes on Stormy, he hissed, "Come on, you little twat, the night's young." Like a spring-loaded trap and with more finesse than Stormy expected from a lush, Desmond sat up, knocked Stormy to the floor and viciously ripped his knotted cock back and out. Stormy's cry tore through the manor.

Desmond soon joined Danny on the sofa. Deihnyx had taken to his armchair with his feet on the floor and a fresh glass of whiskey in his hand. Stormy saw the liquor cabinet in the den to be open. That reserve was only for the most decadent of occasions.

Drunk, sick, bloody from the ass and in such a low state of mind, Stormy met his situation fidgeting and squirming. Desmond, Danny and Deihnyx all sat bottomless and erect, lazily reclined in a posture Stormy recognized as awaiting complete worship. He didn't need to be told what came next, and though his rock-bottom submission didn't earn him any special treatment, it did amuse the drake and the foxcoon. "Who first?" he moaned.

"Desmond is our guest," Deihnyx effused. "But he's also an asshole, so you'll service me first," he smirked, clinking the ice cubes in his glass. "Get your tongue in good and deep," said the drake just as Stormy knelt and sloppily pushed his nose up below Deihnyx's swollen genital slit. Stormy lapped harshly on the surface less than a dozen times before he pressed his tongue against the ring, quickly wriggling it inside. The musk which he tasted made his head spin - though it could have been the absinthe doing that.

"That's it," Deihnyx huffed. "And use your paws, work my knot. Harder, squeeze it harder, you'll never break me, boy." He waited for Desmond to chime in, but the fox didn't.

A steady drizzle of dragon pre drooled onto Stormy's head as he dutifully lapped Deihnyx's anal walls, leaving them slick with saliva and spurring Deihnyx to curl his toes. With a rueful chuckle, the dragon murmured, "You're so eager, makes me wonder why I don't take you to the office with me, make you lick the sweat off my taint while I work..."

"Yes indeed," Desmond grinned, "I imagine your employees already know what a decadent faggot you are, might as well nail it down."

Deihnyx sneered with a hint of anger at Desmond, flexing his anal passage around Stormy's tongue to exorcise his frustration. He reached down and put his heavy hand on Stormy's head but the touch was anything but a kind pet. His barely blunted talons grazed the tiger's scalp and made it sting, leaving shallow and unbleeding furrows in the skin.

Hoping to stave off Deihnyx's clawing, Stormy lapped harder and faster just as a pitiful whine came up his throat. The noise was subtle, lost to his noisy slathering and perhaps better off that way. Desmond and Deihnyx had no shortage of reasons to hate and mock the little tiger. Though with claws carefully retraced to avoid a savage beating, Stormy abused Deihnyx's cock in a manner almost cathartic, squeezing its fleshy bulk and kneading the girth of the knot with all his strength. For all his efforts to harm the drake's meat, Deihnyx groaned and bucked against both his tongue and paws; and in due time, he barked to little Stormy, "Get your mouth around it, and don't you dare waste a fucking drop!"

Stormy engulfed the drake's knotted malehood, suckling it tightly and massaging the knot from behind with soft-padded digits. As he pleasured his unwanted master and fought back new tears of drunken indignity, more catharsis came in the most unexpected manner: Desmond gave him an order.

"As long as I'm paying for your faggot ass," he barked, "get some fingers up under Dei's tail!"

Though the dragon hissed at the notion, he muttered to Stormy through grit teeth, "Do as he says. Be careful, or you'll pay now and after he's gone."

Whether or not it amused Stormy to finger his master, he was terrified and he knew Desmond couldn't truly intervene if a beating commenced; and that was assuming the sadistic fox would even try. Taking into consideration everything he knew on the matter, Stormy freed up his maw and suckled two fingers until they dripped with saliva. Even then, it wasn't until Desmond growled an angry spur that Stormy dared to prod the digits to Deihnyx's well-licked pucker. Without looking up to the drake's face, he pushed them slowly forward to which the drake hissed.

"Even after all these years, you still like something hard up the ass, don't you?" Desmond said with his most wicked of smirks, his masturbation slow and uneventful like Danny's. "Now jerk him off, bitch. He doesn't need your muzzle."

The tiger couldn't bring himself to meet Deihnyx's gaze. It was just as well. He closed his eyes and wrapped his other paw around the dragon's swollen penis. There was no telling if it was really any harder now, but Stormy thought it could have been was with those fingers buried so passively up his ass, holding the walls open. With a familiar touch, he jerked the dragon off with long and mild pumps, his pads gliding over flesh slicked with drool and pre for a consistent, if not simple handjob.

"Pump those fingers," Desmond hissed, "he's not your master, I am."

What to do but obey? Forced into action by the foxcoon, Stormy firmly pumped the drake's ass with his fingers, foregoing his lurid touch for a rough one. Mirroring his abuse of the dragon's asshole was his rapid stroking, and it all ran neatly parallel to said dragon's pleasurable snorting and huffing. Deihnyx clawed at his armchair and gripped his glass so tightly one might have expected it to shatter. All of this occurred as he gushed his draconian pre into the tiger's paw.

On the very cusp of his release for all these combined pleasures, Deihnyx snorted into the air and pounded his feet onto the floor. Flush in his chair and clenching like a vise about Stormy's digits, Deihnyx came. His seed shot high like a geyser, and just as one creamy spurt fell heavily on Stormy, another came. Like a mortar, it splattered onto the expensive rug - a pittance for Deihnyx. When only dregs of his seed drooled out, the dragon impatiently snarled to Stormy, "Get your fingers out of my ass, boy."

Stormy slipped them free and lunged back from Deihnyx in fear of those feet and the tail. He looked up then to Desmond and dared to meet the foxcoon's eyes. It was clear to the mixed fox that Stormy was asking permission and Desmond canted his head toward Danny.

Showing signs of a frenzy, Stormy lunged on Danny's prostrate asshole with laps and kisses for a moment but a deep and thorough lapping soon after that. Though he reached for the kitty's cock, Danny brushed his paw away and took to it himself.

"Rub my thighs," Danny said instead, spoken like an offer but meant as a command. Stormy obliged no matter the tone behind the voice and he stroked the cat's shapely legs well, but it was his tongue-fucking of that very tight and pink pucker which did Danny the most good. The fine black cat mrowled and moaned, curling his toes as he took the tiger's proffered attention and eagerly abused his own cock in the process.

"Fine little slut you've got, Dei," Desmond murmured, his eyes locked on no particular part of the tiger. "Better make sure I don't make off with him when I leave. Stuff him in my suitcase and take him home," he dirtily snickered. He peered over at the drake whom regarded him with bitter ire. The hatred only widened Desmond's grin.

Danny might have been vaguely aware of it, but Stormy knew little of the strife in the room. All that mattered to him was to pleasure Desmond and pleasuring Danny was a consequence of that, it seemed. Unlike his deviation with Deihnyx, he only used his tongue on Danny and he did so with messy, thick laps all around the feline's anal walls. With his face in the source of it all, Stormy's head was beset with rich musk but he was already too properly drunk to even notice it. All he could do was obey, and obey he did.

In the midst of whimpers and gasps which caught the attention of Desmond and Deihnyx, Danny begged Stormy for a blowjob to finish him off, but Stormy didn't listen until Desmond told him to do it. Then he slopped his tongue out of Danny's ass, a runner of drool in the wake of his tongue. He wrapped his lips around the housecat's waiting, aching meat with a faux-lusting noise and bore down on the flesh with tight suckles.

Climbing in octave with his sweet cries was Danny, his paws on the back of Stormy's head, sticky fingers threading through the tiger's pretty blue hair. "Oh gawd, that's the stuff," he gasped with a happy grin on his face. Constant little spurts of pre into the tiger's maw showed just how near a climax he really was, a fact Stormy already knew but which the male juices helped to nail down.

"That's right, keep it up," Deihnyx grinned just before he wet his lips with a sip of whiskey. Desmond fixed himself a drink while he waited for his turn with a swollen cock.

Stormy was mentally absent. He was gulping with single-minded intent on Danny's cock, the black flesh engulfed in his maw, teased by his suckles, lavished by his tongue. His soft paws ever squeezed those supple thighs with feigned lewd intent but nothing could top the ferocity of his cocksucking.

A skyward yowl cut through the clatter of ice cubes and the pitter-patter of falling rain with ease. Danny was cumming and everybody knew it. Holding tightly onto Stormy's head and whimpering in cute bliss, Danny shot his sticky, white wad right into that gulping maw. Drunkenness aside, the climax was mind-bending - or perhaps it was enhanced by the liquor. The only certainty was that Danny's pleasure was incredible, and so was the volume of his climax.

Stormy nearly choked in his earnest guzzling but he never eased off and he wasted not even one drop of the kitty's cum. He didn't pull off until Danny gasped that the pleasure was too much, begging for it to end then. Without Desmond's enforcement, Stormy obeyed and promptly turned his eyes on the foxcoon.

"That's it, c'mere," Desmond said, an expression of lewd wickedness plastered on his face. He gripped his knotted cock and wagged it from side to side as Stormy scooted closer. Its flesh was still smeared with gelled blood and semen but the filth didn't seem to matter to Stormy. In every regard, he had become the perfect slave in his drunkenness. Tears were hot in his eyes and the indignity ran high, but his submission was absolute.

Pressing his nose to Desmond's sack, Stormy took in the scent of male musk. "How do you want me?" he desperately bleated.

Deihnyx quirked an eye ridge at such progressive behavior, but rather than bloat Desmond's ego with the revelation, he cleared his throat to no particular effect and sipped his drink. By then it was watery and lukewarm.

With tunnel vision only for Stormy, Desmond stroked over the tiger's head and down to the crook of his shoulder. "You're an obedient little thing. Cute and fun to fuck," he smirked. "But make no mistake - you're beneath us, bitch. You're lucky to be here, under this roof. Outside," and he snapped his paw to the tiger's ear with a growl, "don't look at the window, you only need to look at me. Outside it's pouring down rain. Left to yourself, you'd be sleeping out in that, catching who-knows-what and eating shit out of trash cans." In one smooth unfurling, he released Stormy's ear and relaxed on the sofa. A long sigh escaped him and he wrapped his shapely legs about Stormy's back. "Quite a few boys aren't so fortunate. I want you to think about your good luck while you eat my ass," he said smartly.

In no state of mind to consider anything about his bleak life, Stormy nosed beneath Desmond's balls and voraciously attacked the pink pucker below. The sheer depravity with which he suckled and slobbered that quivering asshole was easy to mistake for lust, and just maybe some part of it was if he could be drunk enough to ignore everything wrong with the situation. Perhaps serving under someone who could make the fearsome Deihnyx a bottom bitch was in itself a means to earn some of Desmond's power, even if only for a little while. Or maybe none of it mattered at all, which he pondered when he rammed his tongue past Desmond's anal ring. Over tensed walls he lapped and against the ring itself went his lips for something akin to a kiss. His soft paws grasped the twink foxcoon's thighs for leverage, nothing more, and down below his sheath stirred but remained ignored.

Gloating with moans and huffs, Desmond masturbated lackadaisically and strengthened his leg lock around Stormy. Tighter than that was his heated tail hole, rich with musk which tormented Stormy's drunk nose. "I have to say, this has been quite a night," Desmond airily giggled in a sound quite unlike what Stormy had come to expect. "Believe it or not, I came here expecting to end up balls-deep in Deihnyx's ass," he said with a sneer at the dragon whom looked away and snorted. "Then again, who knows? The night is young, could those fingers have been a taste of things to come for our proud drake?"

"Don't push your luck," Deihnyx bitterly snorted, meeting Desmond's eyes suddenly. "Your influence over me isn't what it once was."

"And yet here I am back in your home," Desmond winked. Down to Stormy he huffed, "That tongue is starting to chafe my asshole, cut that out." Before Stormy had fully complied, the foxcoon remarked, "Blow me, and keep it light on the tongue."

Even easier for Stormy. The blood and spunk smeared along Desmond's cock was no concern for the tiger whose tongue had already been up every ass in the house. He descended on the slave-driving foxcoon with a noise that, while slutty, was not lustful. What small erection he'd been suffering had already receded into its sheath again. His work was solely to give pleasure, not to receive it.

Keeping his tongue in check as well as possible, Stormy gulped and bobbed, allowing his cheeks and lips to do most of the work his sandpaper tongue couldn't. Desmond soon enough crooned the order to palm his balls. Broken little Stormy obliged with soft paws relatively unmarred by his menial job, and that was when Desmond moaned to Stormy and told him to get down to the knot and suck. Broken little Stormy did exactly as he was told, and with a swish of his tail, no less. Desmond was indeed an enthralling master - not necessarily a better or more pleasant one than Deihnyx, but still a change of pace.

The foxcoon reached down and palmed his knot beneath Stormy's lips. Each throttling grope on the bulbous gland caused a spurt of pre to erupt into the tiger's mouth but this flavor was old and far from exciting to Stormy. He was just suckling to suck, desperate to please and doing a fine job of it if Desmond's groans and huffs were anything to go by.

Just as Deihnyx and Danny had succumbed to Stormy's touch, Desmond was about to cum too. A grimace and a prolonged shudder betrayed how close he was. A sustained arch against Stormy's maw gave over to a lazy grind just before he gripped the tiger's ears and held him in close. "Ah... Oh, shit," Desmond panted, and that was it. The foxcoon shot his sticky wad into Stormy's mouth and the tiger was submissive to a fault, gulping the cum down into a thoroughly upset stomach. For a few moments afterward as Desmond held his ears like handlebars, Stormy did nothing to pull back from that twitching penis. Soon the potent spunk had run dry and Desmond's breathing began to mellow out.

When Desmond relaxed and ordered him to back off, Stormy thought it a dull way to act after so much dominance; but then the whole evening was falling action after the peak in the kitchen. He fell back on his rump and stared up at Desmond's shaft, its knotted flesh perfectly clean aside from slobber. The content look on the foxcoon's face brought Stormy some queer satisfaction of his own but his sheath was inert. Unless he furtively masturbated later in the night, Stormy would know no pleasure.

"Well, what now?" Deihnyx snuffled, slumped lazily in his chair.

Peering down at Stormy, a queer smile crossed Desmond's face. "Maybe I should make him fuck you, Dei."

Stormy shared an alarmed, wide-eyed stare with Danny - the only sane man, so he thought.

Deihnyx, however, snarled a warning and got up on his feet. "I think not, Desmond. I'd be very careful if I were you."

Up on his own feet and toe to toe with Deihnyx but a head shorter, Desmond patted the drake's snout and narrowly avoided a snapping bite. "If you were me, you'd be acting the same way, you petty bitch," he said through grinning teeth. "But I'll take care of you later, just like old times." Spinning around on his heel, Desmond addressed Stormy with a snap of his fingers. "Show me to your room, little tiger. I'm going to tuck you in."

Ostensibly Desmond wanted to tuck Stormy in by himself, but Deihnyx and Danny followed at a short distance.

In the unfinished disaster area of the basement, Desmond glanced around and shook his head. "This is where you sleep, huh?" he spat.

As he fell onto his broken futon, Stormy suddenly felt the full weight of his exhaustion and the absinthe. "Yeah," he mumbled as he curled in upon himself. "I don't know where my blanket is. I usually just sleep under my clothes..."

"Aw, cute," Desmond grinned, "you thought I was actually gonna tuck you in. Isn't that cute, guys?" he asked Deihnyx and Danny, both of whom chuckled and quietly agreed. Stormy whined and splayed back his ears.

"Not to worry, little tiger," Desmond cooed, gripping his sheath and exposing the front inches of his unaroused penis, "I'm gonna warm you up."

Finally Stormy thought of himself as fortunate. This wasn't because of his situation - being pissed on by Desmond - but because he saw it coming and closed his eyes. The foxcoon rinsed him with a stream of smelly piss among a long and content sigh of exaggerated relief. It reeked of musk and poorly-metabolized liquor, both of which the tiger noted but didn't really acknowledge. All Stormy could do, in fact, was cry.

Deihnyx joined in, seemingly agreeing with Desmond for once. Together they doused Stormy from head to toe, soaking him and his filthy nest of a bed. The stench of Deihnyx's draconian piss overrode Desmond's but it was all potent just the same, certainly not something anybody but the most depraved of souls would want to be soaked in.

Just to cap off a sickening night, Deihnyx and Desmond both nudged Danny into joining them and he did. As their streams began to taper thin, Danny's was going strong and under goading from the more dominant creatures, Danny got up close and pissed against Stormy's grimacing face, thus leaving a horrendous stain right under his head.

Shaking off after their personal rinses, Desmond and Deihnyx watched as Danny went on for a few moments longer. "That should keep you nice and warm," the dragon said in his usual dark cadence. "If you get cold in the middle of the night, we'll be happy to come warm you back up."

Desmond chuckled and turned to Deihnyx just as Danny finished up and shook his black shaft off. "As for you," he said to the drake, "let's you and I go upstairs. There's something I've been wanting to do."

As Deihnyx begrudgingly left with the guest, Danny wondered briefly just how that encounter might go but he turned his eyes back on Stormy when the tiger sputtered and sobbed. Kneeling down, Danny petted his shoulder and huffed. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Stormy peered through pissy hair at Danny. Warily and wearily he blurted, "Are you really?"

"Yes," Danny snapped. Just like that, he left and turned off the light. Knowing that Desmond and Deihnyx were probably going around and around in a power struggle with rape as the prize didn't please or placate him. Neither did Danny's remorse. Nothing had changed and nothing ever would. Stormy curled up and sobbed himself to sleep.

Much later in the night, a freshly re-intoxicated Deihnyx staggered his way down to the basement with the bottle of absinthe in his hand and Danny close behind. Stormy awoke to the sound and got the light on just in time to see them. Oh, what now? he thought. He said nothing.

"Open wide," the dragon said in a near-slur. He clutched his fat, purple cock and Stormy saw a dull smear of blood around its knot, but that meant for nothing for the tiger. It was time for another rinse, one the apologetic Danny didn't hesitate to join in on.