FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Pine filled his lungs. Other scents lay just beneath it, intermingling into something fresh and earthy. Wildflowers. The perpetually recent rain up here, extra vivid to his water dragon senses. And car exhaust, slightly souring the experience, but that grew less pronounced with every step Betta took away from the road.

When he turned the corner, the parking lot finally vanished from his view and the Devon Creek trailhead entered it. He’d heard the creek area was a popular hiking spot, but this early in the year he’d hoped to avoid the crowds. It was a few degrees too cold for the average hiker, but his biology was just that little bit more resistant to low temperatures.

The trailhead was the only proper hiking shelter in the area, but it was above average. A few lean-tos, of course, plus a firepit and even a public bathroom. Betta had arrived early not just in the year but the day; there were still nearly a dozen hikers milling around. Most, like him, had probably just arrived and planned to hike the loop over the weekend.

The scent of smoke caught his attention and Betta immediately realized someone was trying to put the firepit to use. Two someones, in fact, a bear and a weasel. Ironically, the bear looked like a twink while the weasel was handsomely heavyset.

And his shirt was unbuttoned. That was...real nice. Betta sat down across from them, double checking his backpack and trying not to stare. He must not have succeeded, because when the bear excused himself for the bathroom the weasel looked back at Betta.

“Do I know you? Sorry if I do, I don’t recognize you.”

Betta shook his head. “No, I’m new. Just came up here about a week ago.”

“Nice! You picked a great spot, man. Devon Creek is great. Are you doing the loop?”

“Got the whole weekend for it. You too?”

“Every weekend, man. You do a lot of hiking?”

“A little. I’ve done some trails down south.”

“Nice, nice. Where, if you don’t mind me asking? I’ve done the north part of the Solargo, down near Marion. You know? But that’s as south as I’ve ever gone.”

“I’ve done some of the Solargo too, but only the coastal part. And a few times on this local one down near Portside, Hornet Cave.”

“Hornet Cave? Fuck man. I don’t think I could handle spelunking even without those bugs in it.”

“Oh, me neither, but there’s no cave. Well, there is, and I guess hornets? But it’s like a dozen miles from the trail. Dunno why its got the name. It’s pretty cool, though. Loops around a bunch of old buildings.”

“Cool, man. Not a lot of that here.” He examined the now burning fire and, satisfied, started pulling some dried ingredients out of a bag. “Oh, my names Nate.”

“Betta.”

“You’re gonna have to tell me which one’s better.”

“I think I like here more already. I love these trees. And the views! Even driving over. I love getting to see actual hills. Portside is fucking flat.”

“Yeah, the views are fucking fantastic. You never made it to the mountains on the Solargo?”

“No, those are all further north.”

“Oh, right, right. Well, just remember only half the hike is difficult.”

“...which half?”

“Going uphill!” Like all the best jokes, it was funnier to him than his audience. “You want some breakfast?”

Betta shook his head. “I’m good, but thanks, really.” He patted his backpack. “I always overpack food by a day.”

“Well, okay. But make sure you use it. Best way to carry food and water is inside your body. Especially, especially, if you’re not used to terrain like this. It’s steeper than it looks.”

It was about that time that the bear returned. Nate and “dude”, which seemed to be his name, shared a few local points of interest to look out for. Betta tried to pay attention, but. But. Dude’s outfit was even more distracting than Nate’s unbuttoned shirt. Big, baggy pair shorts sans underwear. Every single time he moved Betta got a direct view of his cock.

It didn’t seem deliberate, but...was it? The way they patted each other’s arms and shoulders, the closeness of their bodies, they seemed seemed totally comfortable showing physical affection. Were they lovers? Would they be open to a friendly tailhole?

With the rush of blood flushing his normally blue scales purple, would they believe him if he said it was just the fire?

“I should get going.” He suddenly said, as much to himself as the others. The thought of staying and embarrassing himself was too much. “I didn’t come here to sit around!”

“Hell yeah, man.” Dude said. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll catch each other back here.”

One can only hope, Betta thought to himself.

The conversation hadn’t been that long. The sun was still low enough to shine through the trees and right into his eyes whenever he looked east. It was hard not to look, though. What a view! What trees! Until this visit, Betta had barely seen pine trees outside of seasonal décor. Being a water dragon he’d spent far more time around beaches (and swimming pools, and more than a few bathhouses.) But never an environment like this!

The path away from the trailhead wrapped around the side of a hill. To his left, the hill rose like a wall between him and the road on the other side He took a deep breath and smiled as the utter lack of car-related scents failed to tickle his nose. To his right, he could see the whole of the valley below behind the trees. It wasn’t large, objectively speaking, but it was beautiful.

For the next few hours Betta simply basked in nature.

He passed a few other hikers, but they did little more except nod at each other. The weasel had been right about the steepness, though. Betta was in pretty decent shape, but climbing up each hill was made him feel like he was ascending several flights of stairs. Letting himself pause to watch the feral crows flying overhead or quite literally smell the flowers certainly helped.

Not just the flowers, though. Or the fresh air. There was something else he kept getting whiffs of. Too subtle to place, but too distinct to be ignored. Another hiker with some sort of fur spray, maybe? It was a precise level of ambiguity that might have frustrated him if he hadn’t come already seeking new experiences.

It lingered on the trail, whatever it was, gradually growing in intensity as he ambled along. Each step seemed to form a clearer and clearer idea in his head. Musky and masculine, something that lit up parts of his brain he thought he’d exhausted with his hand before he left.

He was suddenly glad the trail was getting so little traffic today. Like at the trailhead earlier, he didn’t need the embarrassment of showing strangers what type of tent he was pitching.

In fact, the next time he saw someone else it was past noon. As he made his way to the top of the next hill, eyes focused on a pile of large boulders near the top, he suddenly realized there was someone sitting on one of them. They stood, silhouetted by the sky and...no, no, not a silhouette. They were another dragon, covered in black scales. A lot of black scales – he was huge. He bulged with muscle and, fuck yeah, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Betta had always liked muscular men. Being a water dragon had led to many encounters with other swimmers, and he had a certain appreciation for toned men in small, tight swimsuits. This guy, though. This guy looked like he ate raw protein powder by the can.

How much can you look at someone while making it seem casual? Betta had never really been sure of the balance. He kept walking towards the dragon, playing it cool anyway. Just a fellow hiker. Nothing weird. Once he got within about forty feet he could see the light shining across his abs.

Shit, he was definitely staring now. He’d stopped moving, and the dragon was staring back. Betta tore his gaze away, blushing. Should he apologize? Say hello?

“Hey, you can look if you want.” The man’s voice made him jump. It was deep, a little rough. It sounded good.

“Sorry, I, uh…” Betta looked back up at him, then away, then back. The invitation was clear, and he wanted to, but it just seemed awkward now. He took a deep breath, and that same scent wafted into his nose. Much stronger and more distinct now – it was this dragon, definitely. “Sorry.”

“No, really.” The dragon hopped off the boulder and walked up to him. This close, Betta could see a purple sheen to his scales. With Betta’s own usual blues reddening again, they almost matched. “Here.”

The dragon grabbed Betta’s hand and rubbed it all over his abs. fuck, fuck, he was definitely a bodybuilder or something. They were firm, almost hard. Sweaty, too. It was a subtle sheen, but now that Betta had permission to stare it highlighted his body like oil. “Thank...uh, thank you. You’re very...you look good.” He took another breath. “Smell good, too.”

That got a big, almost predatory smile. “I like to be appreciated. I’ve spent plenty of tine honing my body, after all.”

Oh, Betta was definitely appreciating him. With effort, he made himself look up at the dragon’s face. With even more effort, he fought the urge to squeeze those gorgeous muscles. “My name’s Betta.”

“A Beta male, huh?” Betta suppressed a frown. It was far from the first time he’d heard that joke, and it had worn out his welcome by the end of puberty. He’d lost interest in guys from making comments like that, but somehow, it didn’t seem to sting so bad this time.

Maybe because, if there was such a thing as alphas, the dragon would clearly be one. Maybe just because Betta felt like bitch in heat. “Just Betta.”

“Call me Victor.”

“Victor.” Betta nodded. “A...pleasure.” The formality almost died on his lips from its unintended innuendo.

Was it even unintended?

“I haven’t seen you out here before.” Victor slowly moved their hands up to his chest.

“I. I’m.” Betta took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and mostly succeeding. Victor reeked of sweat, and it was driving him wild. “I’m just visiting the area. I’m not familiar with forests like these. I’ve mostly hiked the beaches back home.”

“Back home?”

“Portside, down south.”

“Oh, yeah. I spent a little time there a few years back. A shame I missed you.”

“Did you go to the beach much? I used to be a bit of a beach bum.”

“Never. I like to avoid big crowds. I’m more of a loner.”

“Really?” Betta finally gave in to the impulse to squeeze Victor’s pec. “You’re so, uh, friendly. That’s hard to imagine.”

“Well. Not a total loner. I get plenty of tail.” Did that mean he was a top? Please, please, if he was a top and this overtly interested…”

“I bet you do. Uh...dude tail, right?”

Victor laughed. “What do you think?”

“I mean...well, if you want…” Why was he so horny? He’d never done anything like this before. But...fuck.

“Are you here with anyone?” Betta shook his head. “Well then. There’s nothing stopping you from getting behind those rocks, taking off your clothes, and kneeling down so I have total access to your throat, is there?”

Betta slowly nodded. The sheer audacity was...someone else might...he had never wanted to fuck someone more in his life. Victor just rolled his eyes and slapped him on the ass, suddenly shaking him into action.

There wasn’t much room behind the boulder pile, but there was enough room to hide them from the trail. He dropped his backpack behind another already there – Victor’s, no doubt – and tore his clothes as fast as he could. He moved so fast he even ripped his shirt on one of his horns. Whatever, he could buy more.

He could not believe he was doing this. He’d done a few slutty things before, sure, but nothing too crazy. Some one night stands, and that one time he got fucked in a bar bathroom stall. He thought he’d been living it up that time.

This was public. It was with someone he’d just met five minutes ago. The ground wasn’t even comfortable, it was all bumps and pebbles. His cock was harder than it had ever been.

He knelt as Victor came around the corner, unhurriedly removing his shoes. Then his pants, revealing a pink jockstrap. Fuck, there was a wet spot at the tip. And now it, too, was coming off. Betta’s eyes bulged.

Cocks like that weren’t supposed to exist outside of porn films. And pornos didn’t look so...incredible. It was the same black as his scales, veiny, and thick as a beer can. It was only semihard but he swore he could see it throbbing as it grew. The balls, too, thick and full. He bet if he put his ear to them he’d hear them churning.

And the scent! It was so strong it was almost hard to see through the stench, like some ancient primeval part of his brain that hadn’t evolved eyes or ears yet was being pulled forward to puppeteer his actions. A tiny drop of pre was forming at the tip, and it was almost impossible not to stare at how the light glinted off it.

Suddenly there were hands around his horns, affectionately rubbing the base where they joined with his skull. Betta slowly stuck his tongue out, reaching for that drop of pre. The moment he tasted it, rich and salty, his own cock exploded in pleasure he was barely cognizant of.

That was Victor’s cue to yank his head forward, and suddenly Betta was breathing dragon cock. The intensity of the sudden facefucking made his eyes roll back in his head. Victor clearly wasn’t interested in anything drawn out. Each thrust was as deep and rough as he could make it.

It only took a few for Betta’s snout to start pressing against’ Victor’s body. A part of him, still dimly self-aware, felt pride in this unexpected accomplishment; he’d never even managed to deepthroat a regular cock before, let alone this behemoth. The rest of his mind, operating off pure instinctive lust, gulped and swallowed as eagerly and energetically as possible.

It was heaven.

And it was gone. The cock was gone!

Betta whined, or begged, or both. He wasn’t entirely conscious of which, only that Victor had pulled out of his mouth and turned away. One hand kept an iron grip on Betta’s horn, holding him in place, while the other was stroking his own shaft. A moment later, Victor groaned as a massive load covered one of the nearby rocks. Betta tried to push forward, to lick that ambrosia off the ground, but Victor didn’t let him budge.

“Not yet.” Betta paused at the words, staring up at Victor. The fuck? “Not. Yet. My cum will blow your mind, and I don’t want to do that to you just yet.” With the horn as leverage he half-pushed, half-threw Betta fully to the ground, away from the cum. “It’ll be way stronger after making you wait a day or two anyway.”

The words left Betta elated and crushed in equal measure. He needed that cum, that cock, so desperately but...it was a promise. Wasn’t it?

“Soon?” He managed to ask.

Victor chuckled. “Soon. I’m definitely cumming in you, but not until I’m done. You’re too cute not to ruin.”

Ruin? That sounded...fun. Victor peered around the rocks, checking if they were alone, before looking back at him. Betta had gotten to his feet and was just starting to put his pants back on when Victor pulled them away.

“No clothes, cutie.” He instructed. “Take your pack, but you’ll go naked. Stay in front of me and try to look sexy. Keep that tail up, too. I wanna see you shaking that ass all day. Oh, and get out of sight if anyone else comes along.”

It was hard to think, hard to process the commands, but Betta nodded. Smiled, even. He wanted to press his body against Victor’s. Lifting his tail was instinctive, he didn’t need orders for that. He wanted, he needed, Victor to fuck him, but all he could do was stare as the other dragon dressed and covered his body again.

And then they were off. It was hard for Betta to stay ahead of Victor, especially without any shoes, but he pushed himself and tried to sway his hips with every step. Victor kept a brisk pace, too, but the overall going was slow. Every time they came to anything cool looking – an overlook, a signpost, a particularly nice looking tree – Victor would point and tell Betta to go strike a pose. Sometimes he’d have specific instructions, like “Try to fuck those ferns,” or “See if you can hang from that branch with your tail.” Most times he contented himself with, “Go look good for me.”

One time, about three hours later, he told Betta to prop himself up upside down against a tree, like he was about to suck himself off. He had just gotten into position when Victor suddenly stepped forward and grabbed his cock. One squeeze was enough to make Betta shoot all over his own face. When Victor finally stopped laughing, he told Betta to hold the pose while he dug out his phone.

It was embarrassing, getting photographed in such a comprising pose, but hearing Victor’s laughter felt good. Neither of them wiped off the cum, and courtesy of being a water dragon, it wouldn’t dry out on his scales like it would for most people.

Fuck, he wished it was Victor’s cum. Thick liquids like that could stay wet and fresh on his body for days. A problem with lotions. An indulgence with this man.

Victor also had keen senses, or at least better situational awareness than Betta did right now, because he was always the one who had to shoo him off the trail whenever anyone else was coming. Betta would hide, watching, almost jealous of the easy conversations Victor struck up with passersby. Until nearly sunset, they continued like that. Betta barely noticed the time passing. Except when Victor specifically pointed things out, Betta might as well have been on a treadmill for all he cared about the trail.

“We’ll set up camp here.” Victor finally decided a little ways before sunset. “Those trees give just enough privacy. Go set up my tent. Just mine. It’s not like you’ll need to be comfortable.”

Generous man that he was, Victor let Betta take a long, slow lick of his cock before getting to work. In fact, he was so generous he also let Betta make a fire and cook him dinner, and was even willing to let Betta get down on all fours and be his chair! Betta smiled the whole time. He was on some level aware of being hungry, and that tonight he’d be cold and uncomfortable sleeping on the bare ground, but those concerns seemed so distant as to be utterly irrelevant. Doing what Victor said was fun, and important, and those things were neither.

That night, under the stars, Victor fucked his ass.

Things started slowly, leisurely. Victor hot dogging his cock between Betta’s cheeks, smearing around lube he’d taken from his pack. Betta’s mind was a whirlwind, repeating the same ecstatic thought over and over. He’s gonna fuck me. He’s gonna fuck me. He’sgonnafuckmehesgonnafuckmegonnafuckmefuckmefuckme…

Each slow push under his tail felt like it was pulling one of Betta’s synapses taut until it snapped. One less tether to hold him to his thoughts. He was his body, and the needs of his body, nothing more. His heart beat in time to throbbing of Victor’s cock.

Then it went in, and any delusions of coherent thought were smashed into a puddle of pure feeling.

want. big. hot. throbbing. big. meat. inside. inside! deeper. throbbing. orgasm. heartbeat. heat. rut. owned. deeper! need! pain. orgasm. pleasure. denial. denial! no no No NO NONONO!

His master pulled out! His master didn’t cum in him! He promised! He promised! He needed it!

He twisted around, desperate to see what was going on. His master’s cock was pointed at the fire, cum shooting and sizzling in the flames. The need to crawl after it, to lick every drop up, was as deep and primal as the fear of burning. But his master held him firm, slapping his ass and laughing as Betta sobbed at the unfairness of what he’d been denied.

“Not yet, bitch. But keep crying!” Was all his master had to say before retiring to his tent. Betta was alone, left to uselessly stroke his cock and sob and cling to those precious words like a life preserver. Not yet.

The next morning Betta woke up to the sound of birds. He groaned, blinking his eyes open. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but he felt like he’d been up a while. It was hard to think, but the fog he’d spent the day in was ever so slightly clearer. Not much, but enough to remember the day before.

He was naked and covered in morning dew. Everywhere felt sore, especially his ass and the many places rocks had dug into his body during the night. The first was satisfying, the rest not so much. At least he didn’t feel very cold - a perk of water dragon biology. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten in 24 hours.

While he started digging through his pack for some of the nuts he’d brought, he heard Victor still snoring in his tent. He must be warm and cozy in there, he thought with a pang of jealousy, and was immediately ashamed of himself. Victor deserved it, even if he didn’t know why.

The bag of nuts were heavy in his hand. Should he eat them? He was hungry but Victor hadn’t let him have dinner last night. Was that just dinner? He didn’t know, but slowly, he put the bag away. He didn’t want to disobey, even by accident.

A hint of musk was in his nose. Did Victor get morning wood? The image of that cock, huge and hard, was lodged in his brain. Fuck, now that he was thinking about it he could really smell it. So faint, so subtle, yet it overwhelmed everything else.

The rocks cut his knees as he crawled to his master’s tent. He didn’t care. Slowly, he opened the tent flap and...there it was. Just under the sleeping bag. Master’s cock, making a tent in his tent.

He slowly pulled down the zipper, unveiling his master’s body inch by inch. His master slept naked and it was a beautiful sight. He’d started licking before he even realized what he was doing.

Victor groaned, and a moment later grabbed Betta’s horns. No words. Just a sudden shift as Betta’s face was forcefully fucked. Just like before, the taste of it was enough to make Betta cum.

But then Victor immediately shoved him off, growling. “You bitch. Did I fucking tell you to cum all over me?”

Betta pulled back, eyes wide. His eyes darted to over to Victor’s face, and then back at his cock, and...oh, fuck. Betta had been sucking him off on all fours. His own cock had been so hard it was almost horizontal. And when he’d cum...it had shot so far it landed between Betta’s arms and on Victor’s thigh.

“Well? Answer me.”

Finding his voice was harder than he expected. “No...no, master.” Some deep part of him wondered where that word came from.

“No, I fucking didn’t. And you got that shit all over me.”

“I’m sorry!”

Victor grabbed Betta’s horn again, this time to use his face as a rag. It didn’t work well. Betta still had some of his own, half-dry cum left on his face from the day before, and scale rubbing against scale wasn’t ever going to be a great method for cleaning. It smeared the cum around as much as it cleaned it off. The ineffectiveness just made Betta feel even worse. He should be a better...thing.

After a minute master pushed him away and got up. “Don’t wipe it off.” Betta nodded as his master left, heading to the edge of their camp to take a leak. That felt like a waste, but Betta wouldn’t dare ask for anything right now. “And make me some breakfast!”

The shame didn’t start to diminish until the end of the meal, when Victor seemed to be in a better mood. He gave the same orders as the day before, nudity and showmanship.

At first, Betta couldn’t wait to prove himself. But as the early morning fog lifted from the trail it seemed to settle into his brain. The clarity, limited as it was, that sleep had afforded him faded away quickly. It was too difficult when he got so smell Victor’s sweat and strike poses that made his master pull out his cock and start stroking. Sometimes, he even rewarded Betta by letting him huff his balls or lick his cock. It was like a drug; numbness, pleasure, and a greater numbness.

It was like he was floating inside his own body. It was a shell, something hollow, pantomiming the movements of a real person. He couldn’t feel it, not really. The sensations reached his brain but it was distant, apart from him, like numbers on a screen.

By the end of lunch he wasn’t even sure if he felt good. It didn’t seem important.

From this perspective he observed himself continue to perform his master. Yes...master. When had that happened? Yesterday? When they met? He swayed his hips with every step, and the exaggerated movement felt natural and effortless. He hid off the trail while he master talked with other hikers, laughing and swapping stories with actual people. He danced like a stripper in front of grand vistas and in pits of sharp gravel that hurt his feet. He jacked off until he came all over the dirt and rubbed his face in the mess.

None of it mattered, none of it except seeing that approving leer in his master’s face.

He would have been filthy if his master hadn’t taken him to a stream and told him to clean off. That time, too, the pleasure even managed to penetrate all the way into what was left of his mind. As he stood in the shallow water, wiping off a day and a half of dirt and bodily fluids, his master suddenly waded in and shoved him over.

The cold water prompted an undignified yelp from Betta and a laugh from Victor.

“Master?” He asked as twisted around on his back. “Are you gonna fuck me? Please?”

“No.” Victor straddled Betta and pulled his mouth open, as wide as possible, before he could ask anything else. “Tongue out.” As he stood up straight, he fished out his own cock and...relaxed.

Piss rained down all over Betta’s head. He tried to catch as much of it in his mouth as he could. The taste was intense, bitter and sour. Like everything about his master, it was perfect. The flow stopped all too soon.

He almost begged for more, but that would have been stupid. Bodies don’t work like that, even ones as amazing as his master’s. He swished his tongue around, savoring the lingering taste while he could. But then he had to keep washing, and a few minutes later they were off again.

It was near sunset when they reached the end of the loop. The shelter was just ahead, half-visible through the trees. Behind the bathroom, he could see some other hikers setting up in the lean-tos or heading to the parking lot around the hill. That’s when master pulled him away, off the trail and out of sight.

“Good news, bitch.” He ran his finger down Betta’s chest. “Two bits of good news, actually. You’re finally getting my cum, and you’re finally going to serve a purpose in life.”

Betta seemed to step into his body a little. The promise made everything a bit more vivid. “Your cum? Really, master?”

“Mm-hmm. On your knees.” Betta couldn’t kneel fast enough. Master smirked. “You don’t even want to know what your purpose will be?”

“Serving you, master?” Betta’s heart was pounding. Master’s cum. Master’s cum! He was gonna get fucked again!

Victor laughed, and gently pressed his foot onto Betta’s cock. The pain, to, seemed to sharpen his sense. “No.” With no further explanation, he grabbed Betta’s horns for the final time and shoved his shaft in.

The last two times had not been gentle but this was different, somehow. His master was more focused, and gripped Betta’s horns so tightly they could feel it. he’d been wrong yesterday. That wasn’t heaven, this was. The taste, oh, the taste! A cocktail of pre and sweat and dirt and scales and meat. With each thrust it filled his mouth to it’s limit, like his head was sculpted to be his master’s perfect toy.

He was nothing but a mouth.

And then his master came. His cum tasted like salt and cream and musk and bourbon. It was thick and hot, heated by his master’s dragon biology, and sat like a hot milkshake in his stomach. At some point his master pulled out and so he could shoot the rest all over his face, and then there was nothing else Betta was aware of. Nothing but the taste, the scent. Sight, sound, feeling, time and place, all washed away.

Betta felt...calm. Calmer than he had ever been. There was nothing in the world, in his world, but his master’s cum. And then...words. Even in this state, they sunk deeper than him, become more profound, more permanent, more of who he was than his own self.

“Stay hidden until everyone is asleep, then sneak into the bathroom. There’s a maintenance closet nobody has been in for years, with a few old glory holes. Get inside. You’ll stay there and service the glory holes forever. You’ll only leave the closet if nobody is around, and you’ll never, ever leave the bathroom. You’ll do whatever you need to keep people from getting worried or suspicious. You’ll live off cum, piss, and whatever you can get out of licking the toilets clean each night. If you find a broom or something use it as a dildo, and...you know, fuck you for this morning, so no cumming either.”

Each word rang out in his brain like divine scripture.

When Betta came to, Victor was walking away, carrying both their packs. He wanted to follow him, but...he had to stay here, stay hidden. Besides, Victor wasn’t his master, not really. Was he ever?

Victor had done something to him. These last few days were...wrong. They’d felt so right, so natural, but there was some sort of hypnosis or something and it was only after Victor had cum in him that the effect had gone. He should follow him, demand answers, take retribution.

But he had to stay hidden. He couldn’t remember exactly what Victor had said after the orgasm, but...the meaning was there. He glanced at the bathroom as he crouch down. His future was there.

The occasional hiker went past, a slow but steady stream that continued well after sunset. Most of them seemed to be going to the parking lot. What would happen to his car? Well, Victor had his pack, so he had the keys. It was hard for Betta to imagine driving again anyway.

Just to be safe, he waited until he was sure it was after midnight and the firepit had completely gone out to move. His whole body was cramped and sore, and parts were covered in his own cum after he’s shot his load all over the same ground he’d been forced to hide on. Shot his load for the last time, he mused. That was gonna be rough. Moving quietly, he was able to get inside.

It was a cheap, dingy bathroom. The sort of place that probably had fur fungus on the floors. He wished he had sandals. But...there was the door, in the back. Covered in dirt and graffiti.

He spent nearly an hour slowly prying it open without making noise. It was tense, nerve-wracking. He didn’t know what he’d do if he was caught.

And then he was closing the door. The closet was small and pitch black, but by feeling around he got a sense of the size. There wasn’t much, not enough enough to lay down. It was a cell. It was...it was home now.

He sat down, and waited.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, only that he woke up to the sound of footsteps. In the morning light, the closet was a bit brighter; light shone through a small, dirty window and the two glory holes, none of which he’d been able to see clearly before. One hole opened to the main room, the other to the stall at the end. He peered through the first one and had to suppress a gasp.

It was Nate! The heavy weasel was rubbing his eyes, obviously still half asleep. He stumbled towards one of the stalls, and Betta took his shot...and knocked on the wall.

Nate paused, glancing around. Betta knocked again, and stuck a finger through the hole, waving him forward. That movement got the weasel’s attention, and he stared, eyes wide.

“No fucking way…” Betta put his mouth up to the wall and stuck out his tongue. A moment later, he was rewarded when he heard Nate pull down his pants and push his cock in through the hole.

Betta sucked, as eagerly and intensely as possible. This was his purpose now. If felt like his purpose. And even if it didn’t feel so correct, he was starving and needed to eat something. This might be his only meal all day.

It didn’t take long for Nate to cum, and Betta tried to suppress his disappointment. He savored the cum, he was too hungry not too, but it tasted...bland. A bit salty. Nothing like what he’d gotten to taste yesterday. He hoped Victor would come back, and feed him again.

Nate hurried off, and soon returned with Dude in tow. And soon after, others. They must have told, because he was popular that day. Fox, panda, gecko, shark, and a few he couldn’t recognize. By the time it got dark he was covered in cum, kept wet and fresh-ish by his water dragon scales. It was embarrassing, but satisfying.

It was satisfying, but boring.

That night he finally got to leave, if only a little. He washed himself clean and drank water out of the sink. He used the toilets himself. And then, he got on all fours and licked them clean. It was...disgusting, but there was no other way. He hoped the bits of dirt and...just dirt, he decided, would at least help feed him a little.

And then the next day, it was the same. Within three days the cramped conditions of the closet had become agony. He wanted to leave, but couldn’t. Leaving the closet except in the dead of night, let alone exiting the bathroom, felt so profoundly wrong – morally, spiritually, wrong – it made him feel sick.

So he stayed. He stayed for days.

Weeks.

Years.

Betta lived in the closet for the rest of his life, and he never saw Victor again.