[b][COLLIN][/b]

<< Alaya Stratospheric flight number AS4577 is currently delayed. The arrival time of that flight is now 17:40, with boarding to begin no later than 18:00. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience, and ask for your understanding and patience. >>

The small group of passegers waiting at gate 7-A listened to the announcement with groans and a few hushed curses. AS4577 had already been delayed once, and now again? Their flight had originally been for 15:00! Unbelievable! 

Only one person waiting did not express some form of irritation or impatience - a Fox. The Fox's ears perked at the announcement, and he'd listened attentively, but when he'd gotten the gist of it, he tuned it out and returned his attention to the newspaper he was reading. 

[b]「 Yellowstone Beats Sonora to AHL Playoffs : Details on Surprising Upset Win 」[/b]

Not that he was interested much in sports. It was something to read, though.  

He was fully aware of how much he stood out, here.  He wearing a very nice (and very expensively tailored) suit, with golden claw-caps, and even a very delicate gilding on his whiskers. He practically oozed wealth. The chair he was in was probably getting richer each minute the Fox's ass was in it. No one else here looked to be even a tenth as rich, which was odd, considering the flight cost nearly $10,000 a seat. One didn't fly Alaya because they wanted to simply get somewhere - you flew Alaya because you wanted to get there in [i]style[/i]. And style ain't cheap. And yet, here he was, surrounded by middle-class (at best) humans in middle-class (at best)  casual wear.

 If he had known it'd make him stand out so much, he wouldn't have worn the suit. Scratch that, actually - he'd have worn a [i]better[/i] suit. It wouldn't do for Collin Marlowe to be caught in jeans and tank top.  International assassins were supposed to be elegantly deadly "men of mystery" types, and who was Collin to buck tradition? 

The "Fox of mystery" carefully folded his newspaper, making sure the headline and team logos were facing out.  After glancing around, he slipped a wad of cash into the pocket made of the paper and stood up, leaving the folded paper and his coat inconspicuously on the seat and ignoring the eyes on him. He could understand the staring - he had golden fricken' whiskers, for Dog's sake! His entire [i]appearance[/i] was designed to be eye-catching. Let 'em watch, he always said...though the circumstances here were decidedly different from when he usually said that. One of the cleaning staff made eye contact, and he figured she'd seen. Whatever. She was halfway down the hall, and wouldn't want to draw attention to herself to catch the prize. It ought to be fine. 

He made his way to the restrooms, drawing a few scandalized mutters when he chose the 'Humans only' facility.  Here in Mississippi Territory, 'segregated' facilities were commonplace, but enforcement was almost nonexistent. Collin only drew murmurs from the other passengers, and maybe - just maybe - someone might complain to airport security.  Security would make a big show of scolding Collin for the faux pas, but he wouldn't be charged with anything. 

Entering the restrooms, he paused and assessed the room. Three toilet stalls to the right of the door, opposed by a row of sinks. Directly opposite the door, along the far wall, were two 'adult' urinals and one lower-set 'child' urinal. Standard layout, really. He saw that the middle urinal was occupied by a member of airport security. On the ground to the guard's left, there was a briefcase whose color exactly matched Collin's suit. The assassin smiled, and walked up to that urinal. 

He opened the fly of the suit pants and casually did his business, all the while staring up at the guard. The guard startled at Collin's sudden appearance next to him, but kept his cool and finished his own 'business'. He was apparently frazzled enough that he finished quickly,  forgot his briefcase, and nearly castrated himself with a zipper. 

Still facing the urinal, Collin spoke, "Give my regards to Henry, yeah? I heard his girl got sick again, which is why [i]you're[/i] here. 

The security man, who was not  normally a weak fellow, audibly gulped before replying, "Yes, sir, Mr. Marlowe...sir."

Fastening his fly much less dramatically than the guard had, Collin crouched and picked up the briefcase, "Your pay is wrapped around the newspaper I left on my seat.  Look for the Sonoran Hockey logo. Hurry, before some lucky cleaning staff member gets an unexpected bonus."

Once the guard was gone, Collin set the briefcase flat over one of the sinks, and hurriedly opened it. Inside was a single pistol - Hölzchen Arms' classic "Type 7", an extremely reliable weapon, though nowadays it was considered a tad obsolete. It normally was chambered for .22, but Collin's was a rare variant in 9mm. With the gun were two full clips (plus one already loaded), a Skirmish Corps-grade silencer, and Collin's shoulder holster for it all.

He screwed on the silencer, checked the clips, stored everything where it belonged on the holster, and only then did he quickly remove the suit jacket to strap the holster on. Just as he tightened the last strap, his phone began chiming, leading him to grumble and fish the device from the inner pocket. 

He didn't bother looking at the caller ID, just answered the call and brought the phone to his ear,  "Who the fuck are you, and who the fuck gave you this number?"

"Hey, Collie. It's...ah...been a while, yeah?"

Collin almost dropped the phone, "Rick?"

"Yeah."

"You're a bastard and I hate you," the Fox spat, and was surprised by the laughing bark on the other end. 

"Ha! That's fair, though," Rick replied, "I [i]did[/i] leave you in New Spain. How'd that work out, by the way? Not terribly, if the thriving murder career and loaded offshore bank accounts are anything to go by."

"I ended up in [i]foster care[/i]!"

"Ah. Yes. Like all the best international assassins. Collie, let me put it this way - I'd feel worse about what happened to you if you hadn't been well cared for. Your life after I bailed in New Spain hasn't exactly been [i]shit[/i], don't even pretend it was."

"Except for the part where the Wolf I'd looked up to as almost an older brother [i]abandoned[/i] me! You! [i]You[/i] were that Wolf!"

"Two years teaching you how to take a knot, and I was only [i] almost[/i] your brother? Geez, Collie."

"Maybe that's why I felt so betrayed when you disappeared."

There was a long silence on the other end, until Rick finally spoke again, "Collie, I'm sorry. Really. When I found out who you were, I had to be pushed into making this call. Listen, I gotta contract for you. Twice your normal rate."

Collin growled, "Double it again, and I'll at least listen to the details."

"Marcus Delmain. Heard of him?"

"Of course I have. He's a Big Fish down in New Spain - got his claws into everyone and everything. Runs the Black Tree smuggling empire. If he's the target...Rick, I'm not [i]you[/i]."

"Columbia, two years ago. You killed the head of police there, in broad daylight, right inside the station. You were literally surrounded by cops, and you did the job and got out clean."

"Not clean enough if [i]you[/i] heard of it," Collin groused. 

Rick scoffed, "I'm much better informed nowadays than [i]la policia[/i]. Anyways, my point is that you come highly recommended as the very best in the killing-for-hire business. My boss and I have a preference for hiring the right people for a job."

"Fine. I'll settle for triple my normal, and [i]you, personally[/i] are to deliver the cash. I'm supposed to be going on a vacation, you know."

"You mean a mysterious, all-expenses-paid stay at the exclusive Black Tree resort at which your target will also happen to be staying? Why, I know nothing of it."

"As soon as you told me the target, I had suspicions. At least I won't have to cancel my trip," Collin admitted, sighing, "Boarding starts soon. I gotta go, Rick."

"[i]ᚺᚪᚱᛖᚱ᛫ᛋᛌᚢᚹᚾ.[/i]"

[b][DOUGLAS][/b]

「 Passenger Name : Douglas Delmain
   Age : 15 Species : HH
   Flight #AS4577 (Gate A7)
   Cabin 7
   Notes : Unaccompanied Minor (US) ; Staff Priority 」

"Oh, poor dear! Your gate is at the other end, and your flight's almost done boarding! Let me call your gate while you hurry. It's at the very opposite end of the terminal here - just run!"

The 'unaccompanied minor' did as he was urged, running as fast as he could for the other gate. His father would be [i]pissed[/i] if he missed this flight. And when he got pissed, he got... mean. It really was a good thing the courts gave custody of him to his uncle - but he still had to deal with one weekend a year with his father. 

The stewardess had evidently called ahead as she'd said she would, because Doug found the kindly Alaya people holding the gate for him. He thanked them in a rush, and hurried down the boarding ramp, and into his 'cabin'.

Alaya didn't use the 'traditional' layout - instead the two passenger decks were divided into eight 'cabins' per deck, each with two fold-out beds that were couches when not fully out (like a futon, but not quite); a small table; and a rather compact, but not very private, bathroom area. 

Usually, he got a cabin to himself on these flights, so he was surprised to find the cabin was already occupied - and locked, as well. Timidly, he knocked, sure there was some mistake. 

After the distinct sound is the cabin lock disengaging, a Fox with golden whiskers opened the door. He looked surprised only for a moment, but Doug might've been imagining it. [i]Doug[/i] was certainly surprised. He wasn't expecting an Anthro, let alone a Fox. "You're tall," was the first thing that came out of his mouth, and he instantly mentally slapped himself for how dumb that sounded. 

The Fox didn't seem to take offense, "You're short," he countered. 

"I'm sorry. Let me start over. I think you're in my cabin," Doug said, holding his ticket out for the Fox to see.

「 Passenger Name : Douglas Delmain
   Age : 15 Species : HH
   Flight #AS4577 (Gate A7)
   Cabin 7
   Notes : Unaccompanied Minor (US) ; Staff Priority 」

"I see. Hmm. Well, here's [i]my[/i] ticket..."

「 Passenger Name : Collin Marlowe
   Age : 35 Species : QFRE
   Flight #AS4577 (Gate A7)
   Cabin 7
   Notes : VIP - Black Tree 」

"What's QFRE?" Doug asked, again not thinking before he spoke. He was really distracted by those whiskers! Yeah. That was his excuse. 

"Someone mocking me for being a half-breed. Pay no attention to that. As you can see, we're apparently sharing a cabin. Do you want to touch the whiskers or something, kid? You're staring."

Doug could feel himself blushing brightly, and he could only stammer as his brain caught up - this Fox was one of his Dad's VIPs! His father had made very, very clear to Doug : Do Not Bother VIPs. And here he was doing exactly that. 

The Fox - Mr. Marlowe, apparently - opened the cabin door fully, stepping aside, "We're supposed to be strapped in before takeoff. C'mon, I'll let you touch my whiskers."

Doug let the Fox get him into the cabin and sat down, not sure how to act. The Fox noticed. Once he'd closed the cabin door, he said, "What's up with you, ᚴᛟᚹᚠᛌᚪ? Never seen an Anthro before?"

"You're one of Dad's VIPs!"

The Fox's eyes flitted to the ticket he was still holding, "So I am. Huh. Dog knows how Rick managed [i]that[/i]. Nevermind that. [i]You're[/i] Delmain's son. And I..."

It didn't escape Doug's notice that the Fox re-engaged the door lock. 

"... am an assassin hired to [i]kill[/i] Delmain."

The grin that crossed Doug's face clearly set the Fox aback, "Really?"

"You know, most people are less...enthusiastic...about me killing their relatives."

"My Dad's...mean. And I mean [i]mean[/i]. If you killed him, I wouldn't have to take these trips once a year out to his creepy, shady, sex resort...which I probably shouldn't have told you about...but you're killing him anyway, right?"

The Fox sat down next to him, "Easy, ᚴᛟᚹᚠᛌᚪ, easy. Breathe. You really want him dead?"

"Uhhh... it's more like I don't [i]mind[/i] if he suddenly...well... dies. Is that bad?"

"You're asking an assassin that question. Look, you look like you could use a calm-down, and I got just the thing. Or I will, anyways, watch this..."

He took out his phone, and made a few taps with his thumbclaws, and moments later there was a knock on the door. The Fox was still near the door, and opened it to reveal an extremely nervous member of the flight staff. The stewardess gave the assassin two white cigarettes, a lighter, and an ashtray. The Fox closed the door. 

Turning back towards Doug, he held up the cigarettes, "You smoke? Cubs these days are always smoking something, and your ticket says you're [i]about the right age[/i] for it."

Doug cocked his head at the odd emphasis, but shook it off, reaching for one of the cigs, "My Dad's gonna kill me."

"I'm killing him, first, remember?" Marlowe asked, lighting Doug's cigarette. 

[b][COLLIN][/b]

There was no way the boy didn't notice that the cigarette wasn't tobacco. He hid it well, though, or the initial taste of cannabis was already familiar. Either way, he took a decent hit before taking it in his fingers and exhaling. "What is this stuff?" the boy asked. 

"It's weed, but coated with this new designer drug called Imperium. Supposed to make you feel like the Alpha of old Rome. ᚴᛇᛋᛌᚪᚱ. Dunno about all that...but it's a hell of a buzz. You feel it already?" Collin asked, lighting his own joint. 

The human boy nodded, "Maybe. Dunno yet. Are your whiskers really gold? It's been bugging me."

"I noticed. They're gold [i]plated[/i], with a layer of gold just barely a few atoms thick. Literally just enough to be visible at all. It adds a few micrograms of weight to 'em, makes 'em more sensitive. Plus, I get golden fucking whiskers, obviously."

"And your claws?"

"Caps," Collin answered, demonstrating one's removal.

"I'm surprised you don't have military claws."

[b][i]<< Will all passegers please be seated - we are about to begin taxiing. Attendants will make rounds of the cabins to strap you in momentarily. Thank you for flying with Alaya. >>[/i][/b]

Collin flopped onto the couch next to the boy, "My...colleague...has those. He says they're a huge pain, day to day. [i]He[/i] has real ones - official ones, I mean. Black market mil-spec claws are just as much of a hassle, but you get way worse surgery results than gettin' 'em from the Army. Too much bother, either way.  Besides, I have a gun for a reason - I'm not...the close-quarters type."

The cabin door opened, and one of the stewardesses came in, as promised, to strap them in. Just like the other one, she was clearly wary of Collin, who purposefully put on a vaguely disgruntled expression. He noticed with some amusement that Doug copied him in forcing the poor woman to work around their lit joints. Collin had done it because he could, and he had a gun. [i]Doug[/i], however... well, Collin could read human scent and body language easily. He decided to probe a bit once the stewardess was gone. 

"So, it's not just the whiskers. You're still staring, ᚴᛟᚹᚠᛌᚪ. What is it?"

"What's that word mean?"

" [i]'Kōva'[/i]? It means 'boy' or 'son'. And you didn't answer the question."

It took another deep hit off the joint for the teenager to reply, and again he was blushing - Collin loved that about the paler humans. It was neat. Anthros only blushed at the ears. And Cats didn't do it at all. "You're...um... well, you're really pretty."

Collin couldn't help his ears perking at that, and now it was his turn to blush a little. Only a bit of it was exaggerated, "Aww, that's sweet. You're a handsome pup, yourself, you know."

Taxiing began, and Collin quickly magnetized the ashtray to the table and put his joint out, indicating for the boy to do the same, which he did, after one last hit. 

"I hate this part," Doug confided, and Collin couldn't much blame him. Already they were accelerating rapidly down the runway, and just before lift-off, they'd be putting on an additional burst of speed, nearly four g's total at that moment. It was... not a gentle takeoff. 

Once they were in the air, it was only another five minutes before they reached 'cruising' altitude. "It's a six hour flight, right?" Collin asked, watching the boy out of the corner of his eye as he added, "I heard this flight is great for joining the mile high club."

Doug's blush said it all. Just to tease him, Collin leaned over and said, "Hey, if you wanted to join that club...I could help with that."

The kid was so shy, Collin initially dismissed the tentative head-nod, but Doug soon spoke up to match the gesture, "Sure."

Collin laughed, "OK, kid! But let's hold off on that for now. Let  the [i]high[/i] really kick in first."

The boy nodded. They both unbuckled the safety belts and relaxed into the couch. In the process, Doug somehow managed to scoot closer to Collin, who pretended not to notice. The Fox was patient, and already he could smell the boy's erection - humans' clothing made their smell stronger, not weaker, generally - especially [i]that[/i] smell. The Imperium would kick in soon...he just had to wait. 

It was the squirming that gave it away. One of Imperium's first effects was to raise the user's body heat. Second, usually along with the first effect, it hugely improved tactile sense. For Anthros, whose fur itself was already surprisingly sensitive in that regard, it was pleasant, but not much to write home about. But for a furless human? It was a bit of sensory overload, and made clothing suddenly rather uncomfortable.

He could see the inner debate going on in the boy's head. 'It's hot', on the one paw, but 'I can't just take my clothes off' on the other. 

Before Collin could 'take the lead' and plant the idea, Doug surprised him by sitting forward and taking his shirt off of his own accord, "It's hot in here..." 

[b][DOUGLAS][/b]

His skin felt tingly, and he had suddenly become aware of how [i]itchy[/i] his clothes were. He was learning by hypersensitivity that the thread count mattered in the way the grit rating of sandpaper mattered. His shirt's 60 threads per inch suddenly was like the equivalent grit sandpaper - rough and irritating. 

It was also getting uncomfortably hot, and already he could feel his armpits start sweating, and the very beginnings of his chest and belly doing the same. He mumbled an excuse and quickly got the offending garment off, tossing it over onto the other seat. 

He looked over at the Fox to guage his reaction. The Fox was grinning slightly, and Doug made an instant decision. "Your turn," he said, a little challengingly. The Fox's grin only widened, just barely revealing the sharp points of his teeth. 

He stood up, and again Doug was surprised with how tall he was for a Fox. He'd always imagined them as short...er. Mr. Marlowe was actually a little taller than Doug - though only by maybe half an inch. Was that tall for a Fox? Or was Doug just short for his age? Maybe both? 

Doug was so distracted thinking about the Fox's height that it was his nose, not his eyes, that told him Mr. Marlowe wasn't copying him in taking his shirt off. As soon as the Fox undid his pants, the strongly unmistakable scent of vulpine musk filled the cabin, only getting stronger as Marlowe unbuttoned the tail strap and let the pants pool around his footpaws.

The adult bent over to pick up his pants, and in doing so lifted his tail enough that Doug got a good view of the Anthro's anus, and Doug found his mouth watering strongly. He had never been one to get introspective, so he instantly accepted the idea that he wanted to [i]lick[/i] the Fox's tailhole. No second-guessing, no wondering why he wanted to do such an odd thing. He even started leaning forward to do it. 

But Mr. Marlowe turned around after tossing his pants alongside Doug's shirt on the opposite couch. And so, instead of making contact with the Fox's butt, it was his sheath Doug ended up burying his face against. Not a bad result, Doug's drug-fueled horniness asserted, but that Fox musk was strong enough to make him lightheaded.

"You're barking up a dangerous tree, [i]Kōva[/i]. Are you sure it's not just the drugs talking?"

The question forced him to actually consider, and he shrugged, "I dunno...I think it's more the drugs are making it easier to do what I'd be too embarrassed to, otherwise."

Marlowe gently pushed him back onto the seat, "In that case, you should take it slow. Here, let's both get comfortable..."

Doug watched, entranced almost, as the Fox removed his remaining clothes, revealing the full extent of the off-white cream that covered his front from his throat to just past his balls. On his sides, back, and face, the fur was a muddy red, but his ears and the very tip of his tail were black, as were his paws up to the elbow, and his feet up to his knees. Doug felt... well, like [i]he[/i] was the animal-person. Humans didn't  look so magnificent. 

The Fox snapped his claws against each other, "Hey! Stop worshiping me with your eyes. You still have pants on, and if I've gone to all the trouble to show you mine, you're definitely showing me yours."

[b][COLLIN][/b]

By [i]Dog[/i], Collin loved adolescent males. Human, Anthro, it didn't matter. They were all the same - any hint they could get their rocks off with, by, or in anything besides their own paw, and they'd do whatever you asked. 

Doug took both his pants and underwear down in the same motion, and slipped his tennis shoes off moments later to toss the whole bundle to join the rest of their clothes. His socks followed just a moment later. 

The boy was 'white', but with a hilariously mismatched tan. One could see easily that the boy very often went around in just shorts that stopped just above his knees - because that area was almost actually white. The rest of him was a bit darker, but only as far as his Tribe/breed/whatever got. 

He didn't have much hair yet - just his head, underarms, and groin had any to really speak of, and not much of that yet except on his head. What he did have was darkly colored - not quite black, but a brownish red that was close enough.

The poor kid was painfully, obviously hard. Nearly five and a half inches of circumcised monkey cock. Collin found the practice disgusting, but he couldn't deny the aesthetic appeal of the result when done well, as Doug's was. 

Impulsively, Collin reached over and put his paw around the teenager's cock. "Oh, God that's not fair!" Doug moaned, though he wasn't exactly shying [i]away[/i] from the contact. 

"You're free to reciprocate, if you think that's fairer. But first, check this out -" Collin growled playfully, running his leathery pawpads up Doug's belly and chest. Doug moaned and squirmed, as each of the finer hairs on his body suddenly could be [i]felt[/i] as the Fox's paw brushed over them. 

When he removed his paw, Collin could see the boy shaking, shuddering in near-orgasm from the tactile overstimulation. He waited, let the kid 'cool off', as it were. 

Once he recovered, Doug struck, putting his hand on the Fox's chest and ran it down Collin's front, and stopping only once he had a handful of the adult's sheath. Both of them moaned from the contact, and what followed was a back-and-forth game of tit for tat that quickly devolved far beneath their maturity. The fact that each new touch, rub, or grope felt increasingly pleasurable for both of them didn't hurt.

[b][DOUGLAS][/b]

It was bad timing, really. The Fox had pulled him into his lap, and was nuzzling his neck while carefully running his claws down Doug's ribs - which felt amazing - when the boy found that his balls couldn't take it anymore, and he actually came just from that. Four good shots, too, that arced from where they were cuddling/wrestling on the seat across the two feet of space between the couch and cabin door, finally to splatter onto the face of the flight attendant who had just entered to inform them of the in-flight dinner menu.

The poor woman was stunned speechless, and for a moment the only noise other than the plane's engines was the sound of the cabin door automatically sliding shut behind her. 

"Great shot, kid!" the Fox cackled in his ear, nudging him to get up. Doug himself was too mortified at first to move, but the Fox was insistent and eventually Doug slid off to sit next to him, now covering himself and blushing with embarrassment. 

Once Doug got out of the way, Mr. Marlowe stood up and moved over to the other couch, quickly finding and picking up his suit jacket, and taking the pocket kerchief from it. He then walked over to the stewardess and offered it, "Apologies for the boy's aim. I assure you he was not intending for that to happen."

She took the cloth, and wiped herself off with a much dignity as she could, tossing it back to him when she was done. She stammered, clearly torn between anger and humiliation, finally spitting, "I'm reporting you both to the Captain."

Marlowe shrugged, "Do what you like. We're well past the point of returning to the mainland, the location we're landing is entirely controlled by a man I have significant clout over, and the Captain himself is known to take bribes. The caps on my 'pinkie' claws should be more than generous enough. Maybe I'll give him a single thumb-cap. Either way, you're going to jeopardize your job with Alaya if you say anything about me. [i]Or[/i] you can accept my and the boy's apologies, and be a dear and bring us some water? And maybe whatever's actually good on the menu."

She still seemed mighty pissed, and Doug couldn't really blame her, considering he'd just jizzed in her face. Now that he'd actually gotten off, the high was dissipating fast, and he felt guilt setting in. He tried not to look her in the eye. To the Fox's proposal, she finally answered, regaining her composure, "Give [i]me[/i] one of those caps, and you got a deal, Fox."

"Done," Marlowe said, promptly removing the smallest cap on his left paw and tossing it to her.  She inspected it, seemed satisfied, and discreetly pocketed it.

Once she'd left, the Fox returned to the couch, sitting close to Doug, "The high wearing off?" he asked.

Doug nodded, scooting closer to the Fox, "Yeah. Guess yours is still going - you didn't even get hard!" He reached over and ran his fingers through the ultra-soft fur around Marlowe's sheath.

The Fox chuckled,  "I'm Canid, we're built differently. I'd haveta pull the sheath down past the knot before I'll start to get hard, unless I'm pissing. And it's gotta go somewhere warm and slick, or it'll dry out and get painful."

"Knot?"

Marlowe guided Doug's hand to the relevant part of his anatomy, "Feel how my cock is bigger there? Well, when I'm about to cum, that gets even bigger - a bit bigger than my closed fist - and locks me with whatever I'm fucking."

Doug started gently rubbing the adult's sheath back and forth, not really trying to 'paw' him, just more because it felt nice. After a moment, he asked, "For how long?"

"Maybe up to twenty-five minutes. Never less than ten, in my experience. Dogs and Wolves can stay tied up to half an hour, but I've never heard of a Fox lasting that long. But the tl;dr version is Canids don't get hard like humans do, unless they're gonna fuck something."

"So how do Canids... you know, jack off?"

"If we get our paw slick enough, we can paw like humans do, more or less. Usually, we just suck our own cocks...or get our brother to."

Doug was too shy now that the Imperium high was almost gone, and too inexperienced to know how to properly express his desire, but he could sense that if he didn't try for it now, the Fox wasn't going to go any further. "I...um...can you show me?"

"You want me to suck my dick or did you want to suck my dick?"

"Um...both?"

"Ok. First, I'll have to change positions, here...usually, we use a wall or the headboard of the bed...Ok." He shifted around so his legs and hips were propped up by the back of the couch. He then curled his head in while bringing his hips down, and took his own penis into his muzzle with ease that betrayed literally years of practice. Doug gasped and impulsively grabbed and moved the Fox's tail out of the way to get a better look.

The Fox pulled his muzzle off his now much-more-erect maleness to growl, "I'll say this as nicely as I can, Kōva - paws off the tail. Never, [i]ever[/i], grab an Anthro's tail without their permission." 

"I'm sorry! You let me touch it before!"

"You were [i]touching[/i], not [i]grabbing[/i]. Anyways - ow! - this couch ain't right for that, it's already hurting my back, so moving on. You still want to suck my cock, ᚴᛟᚹᚠᛌᚪᚻᛖᚾᚪ?"

"What does [i]that[/i] word mean? Boy-something?"

The Fox snickered to himself, "It means 'dear boy', more or less.  Anyways - you, cock, yes or no?"

Doug was staring at the six inches of vulpine cock hanging from Marlowe's sheath, and the Fox had to snap his claws together again to get the boy's attention. 

"So how to I--"

"Look, let me get up... ok, lay down so your neck's mostly supported  by the edge but so you can also straighten your throat."

Doug followed directions, and wasn't without a fair bit of trepidation as the adult Anthro lined himself up in front of the boy's face, his cock already spurting precum onto Doug's cheeks.

"Last chance to back out, Doug. I plan to knot you."

Doug gulped, "Will this hurt?"

Marlowe shrugged, "That actually depends on you. My advice? Relax, nose-breathe on the pullout, and focus on what you're doing. And cover your teeth with your lips. Once the knot's in, same deal. Keep calm and relaxed, and you'll be fine - key is to not panic when your throat's full of cock. Ok? And seriously, once the knot's in, even [i]I[/i] don't have any choice in it being there, and when I'm close to that point, I won't be much inclined to stop, so it's better if you treated the whole thing as a yes or no from the start. So, if you wanna-- Or, OK! Bored with the talking part, I see."

Doug [i]was[/i] bored with the 'talking' part. It didn't hurt that because of their new positions, Doug's options had been 'let precum drip into his nose and eyes' or 'take it in his mouth'. It only took a bit of the former for him to choose the latter.

Doug had 'fooled around' with other boys before, mostly younger relatives and older schoolmates, but having an [i]Anthro's[/i] cock in his mouth was...exhilaratingly different. His uncle lived in Mississippi Territory, and like it's geographical position, the Territory was known for trying to favor both the highly human-supremacist East coast and the more anthro-centric West. Anthros weren't subhuman, but they [i]were[/i] 'Other', and that made having sex with one - and an adult, at that - doubly thrilling. 

The Fox took a half step - more of a leaning shift of his weight - and suddenly he had almost half the length in his mouth, just barely at his throat. He paused there, rubbing Doug's chest, "Doing great, here, Doug. Here's the hard part - just remember to relax and breathe."

He then began pressing forward, and his cock slid further in. Inch by inch he put it down Doug's throat, and even Doug was amazed at his own lack of gag reflex. The Fox stopped again here, "OK. I can feel your breaths so you're not choking - good so far. I'm gonna start the pullout, OK?"

[b][COLLIN][/b]

This was perfect. Not only was Doug extremely cute by Collin's tastes, exactly the sort of age Collin liked, and apparently very submissive, but he was his target's kid! And here the little ᚴᛟᚹᚠᛌᚪᚻᛖᚾᚪ was deep- throating Collin's cock like a pro! Already, gears were turning in his head. He could use this. 

He slid his cock almost all the way out, then shoved it the entire length with honestly a bit more force than he'd intended. Doug took it effortlessly, and Collin again paused with his now [i]fully[/i] erect length fully buried down Doug's throat, this time because the teen was shuddering and moaning in orgasm. 

Collin had already found out Doug's impressive 'range', and this time it was he who got a face-full of jizz, at point-blank, so to speak. He instinctively licked away what landed on his muzzle, and groaned, feeling that more had splattered on him where his tongue couldn't reach. Since he wasn't about to stop what he was doing to wash it off, it would dry there. He may have thrusted a little more roughly in annoyance when he resumed raping his cabin-mate, but the human boy took it in stride and even grabbed onto Collin's ass to spur him to be even rougher.

Of course Collin obliged, and Doug even seemed thrilled about getting a full 'muzzlefucking'. He was so into it that he came twice more before they were negotiating the Knot. 

Collin went easy on the pup, willing to let things be if he couldn't force it in. It fit, barely, and after that it was hard to think straight. He flopped forward, draping his upper half over Doug. He got another faceful of teenage-human-spunk for his trouble, but he was in such a good mood from getting his rocks off that he not only let the boy cum on him, but immediately wrapped his tongue around Doug's cock and brought him to another orgasm right there. 

It was around that point that there was a knock on the cabin door. Since his nose told him it was the stewardess returning, he straightened up to a more modest position (since even he'd find it a bit off-putting, walking into a room and being accosted with the view of the butt of a Fox who was bent over, tail raised straight in the air, with his dirty tailhole twitching in time with the spurts of cum he was filling Doug's belly with.)

"Come in," he called, feeling the sharp intake of breath from Doug as the boy realized he was not only going to be seen in the middle of gulping down Collin's load, but he was also almost completely exposed. Collin decided to have a bit more fun, and he caught Doug's hands before they could move to cover his once-again-erect boyhood. The boy didn't resist, but did start to squirm, eventually giving up. 

The Stewardess hurried in once she saw she was not in the line of fire, and looked very disapproving of their current activity, not that Collin cared. He gestured for her to put the water and their meals on the table, gently testing the tie. He probably [i]could[/i] pull out, but decided to let it run its full course. 

Though she looked mighty eager to be gone, Collin stopped the woman before she could make her escape, "I'll also need a Black Tree 'pet' collar, and a leash that's at most two Tails long. And blank LNH paperwork."

Collin wasn't sure if the boy had heard him or not, but Doug's body had perfect timing in shuddering and making his cock shoot cum all over the boy's exposed belly.  The Stewardess was clearly distracted by the display, though mostly disgustedly, but Collin stared her down until she nodded and left the cabin. 

While she was gone, Collin negotiated the careful process of getting his knot out from behind Doug's teeth. Once he'd extracted his member, he helped the boy sit up and immediately offered one of the bottles of water, "Here, drink - it'll help keep your throat from getting sore. You did amazing, pupper!"

Doug ignored the water, springing forward to hug Collin tightly. Though he danced his hips back to keep his still-exposed cock from getting touched, Collin returned the gesture, even nuzzling Doug's cheek with his own. He let the cuddle go on for a few moments, but then gently pushed him back onto the couch, thrusting his hips out, "Wanna help me put it away?"

Doug blushed and nodded, "What do I do? Oh, jeez, my voice is all weird!"

Collin smiled at him, ruffling his hair, "That's one reason I offered you the water. Most people don't deep-throat on their first go, you know, even Anthros. Your voice will be fine in a bit, just drink up, and try not to strain it for a while. "

"Mr. Marlowe..."

"It's Collin, Doug. You've just had my cock in your throat, I think we can use first names, now."

Doug giggled, but grew serious, "Collin... are you going to kill me? After you kill my dad, I mean? 'Get rid of' the witness?"

Collin sighed, "No. You'll be free to tell the authorities everything afterward, if you like. You said your father's not your normal guardian? Then you'll at least be sent back to whoever normally takes care of you once everything's done. But, on the flip side of that, because you know who I am and my purpose, until my job is done, you're staying with me."

Doug did not look displeased, nodding, "That makes sense."

"On that note, I do have a role for you to play in my plan. But, I'll wait until the supplies come back. For now, it seems my cock found its own way home, and I don't know about you, but I could eat."

If the Stewardess really had brought the best on the menu, Collin wondered exactly what sort of bland kibble they were offering second- and third-class passengers. Whatever it was, it was edible, vaguely filling, and did not at all distract Collin from how much he wanted to fuck the boy's brains out.

Doug seemed to pick up on that, and was constantly touching and snuggling against the Fox, who was actually grateful when the Stewardess returned. As lustful as he was, [i]Collin[/i] was too old to go twice in a row like that, and his Plan called for him to hold off for now. 

The Stewardess took their food trays and replaced them with the things Collin had asked for, and Collin could feel the boy freeze when he saw them. If he spent even one weekend at the BTR every year, he surely recognized the collar and what it was. 

Ignoring Doug for the moment, he thanked the Stewardess, and waited until she left to turn to the boy, "I'd really prefer not to force you, but that Collar's going on you one way or the other."

Doug gulped visibly, but meekly reached out and took the collar off the table.  Collin took it off him and put it on the boy, who was probably just now remembering that Collin wasn't exactly a 'good guy'. He didn't resist at all, however, and reacted with no more than a flinch as the automatic latch engaged. Collin stroked the boy's cheek, "Good boy. Now, hand me those papers."

Doug obeyed, and allowed Collin to pull him close with one arm around him, while the Fox read the paperwork. "Oh, good!" he commented, "It's mostly boilerplate. Hey! No peeking! It's actually important that you [i]don't[/i] read any of this. Now, go over to my jacket and get the pen I have in the inside pocket."

The boy complied, giving Collin an opportunity to admire the pale white skin of the teenager's rump. Build-wise, the kid was clearly not an athlete, but he was at least a general kind of 'fit'. In any case, Collin did much admiring while the boy was bent over looking through the suit coat for the pen. He was gonna [i]fuck[/i] that, it was pretty much set in stone at this point. If Doug got as much enjoyment out of that as Collin planned to, that'd be a bonus. 

"Why can't I read it?" Doug asked as he returned to the couch and handed over the pen. 

"Because we're faking it. If you read it and signed it, you'd be my slave, effectively. Legally, you'd be a pet. As much as I'm tempted by the idea of having you as my own personal toy for real...Ri-- my mentor --would have nothing more to do with me, if I did [i]that[/i]. And I apparently still care what he thinks, so instead, the idea here is - if you ain't read it, and I sign for you, you can't be said to have entered the contract knowingly or willingly. It'll [i]look[/i] legit, and until my job's done, we'll have to [i]act[/i] like it's legit, but it'll be cub's play for a lawyer to get you out of when we're through."

"Oh. So I'll have to go naked?" Doug asked, glancing mournfully at his clothes. 

Collin laughed, "Dog, no! At least not until we fix that tanline of yours. Hey, c'mere..."

He put a paw against Doug's cheek and forced him to look him in the eyes, "I don't care what other people do with their pets. If you're [i]my[/i] pet, you'll be treated well. You'll eat what I eat, go where I go, get to enjoy the same things I do. When we're at the BTR, if anyone gives you shit for the clothing, just say your owner likes to dress you up."

Doug nodded, "I should probably stay close to you, then. My father never lets me really explore the place when I'm there, but you catch hints and stuff. I didn't understand when I was younger, but now I know what goes on there. Kind of.  I'm...a little scared to see it for real."

Collin shifted uneasily, "You're right to be, from what I've heard."

[b][LOUIS][/b]

Louis woke to the sound of someone screaming. That wasn't unusual by any means at the Black Tree Resort. People came here to live out their fantasies, both tame and...otherwise. Louis was currently 'posted' to the Black District - which catered to the [i]much[/i] darker end of things. Snuff, necrophilia, and psychotic sadism were vanilla, here.

Now, Louis hadn't gotten posted, arguably to the most horrible area of BTR, as a punishment. Nor was it exactly his 'pleasure', either. He was here because he was the only one in the security corps who could actually keep the wackjob clients and residents of the Black District in line. Not to mention the wackjobs who got punishment postings here - a.k.a. his 'subordinates'.

The screaming person got louder, and Louis considered very strongly going over and shooting whoever was making the noise [i]and[/i] whoever was making them make it. But firstly, he didn't like shooting in general, actually. Second, it was his goddamn day off, and going and doing something about whoever was doing whatever to whoever...well, that was very much 'on-the-clock' shit. Fuck that. Hopefully the poor fucker would die soon...or at least maybe their voice would give out.

When the screams turned into high-pitched shrieks, that was it. A glance at the clock told him it was 04:00, waitforit,  04:01. Who the fuck was making that kind of racket at four in the morning!? Even the usual Black District clients weren't typically awake at this hour. 

Grumbling and cursing, the big Dog climbed out of bed, snatching up his gun from the nightstand and checked its load as he stomped out of his apartment, not even bothering to fully shut the door behind him. No one would dare steal from him. 

On the way down the stairs, he nearly tripped over Lionel, one of his neighbors, who was coming up the stairs. Louis paused to help steady the smaller Cat, who thanked him. They both awkwardly paused there on the stairs, both about to say something, then, well, not saying anything. 

"What's the...ah...hurry, Lt. Baxter?" Lionel asked, to break the awkward moment and in response Louis waved his gun above them.

"Know who's making that racket? They woke me up and I'm gonna go do sommat about it."

The Cat shook his head, "Don't know, sir. It does sound like it's coming from outside, though. Maybe the alley?"

"Come with me as backup, and the bodies'll be yours," Louis offered. One perk of being essentially the police chief for the District was that he knew [i]everyone's[/i] weak point. And other than his addiction to necrophilia, Lionel was actually one of his less objectionable neighbors, so Louis felt he ought to throw the guy a bone occasionally. It couldn't be easy, actually living in the Black District, at Lionel's size. Dude was just shorter than three feet. Balls height to most Canids and nearly all humans. Snack size for the wackos. The fact that he was also cute as hell didn't hurt.

Lionel's tabby-marble face lit up, "Done!"

Together, they headed down the stairs and out into the parking lot. Out there, they could more clearly hear the sounds. Quietly, they approached one of the alleyways, only stopping when Lionel patted Louis' bare rump to get the Beardog's attention. "Hey, um, Lt. Baxter...what exactly do you want me to do, here? I'm not exactly a fighter."

"Honestly, you're bait. I want you to go [i]there[/i] and piss. Make sure they can see you, [i]and[/i] that I can see you from here.  Uh...try and make yourself seem like a cub, if you can. Round here, even if they've already got a plaything, they won't pass up the chance to nab what they'll think you are. They come into my sights, bam, done. You'll be perfectly safe."

"If I get hurt--"

"I'll at least be pissed enough to get revenge for you. But seriously, I'm a great shot, you'll be safe. I actually promise you, I will not let you get hurt, Lye."

"OK. Hey, uh, this is a weird time, but I've always liked you...Imean, you're not a thug like the last guy, is all I'm sayin'," Lionel said, and Louis noticed that the Cat's paw was still on his ass. 

"I thought you only went for cold ones?"

"Dude, you're like, the hottest male in this District, human [i]or[/i] Anthro. Have you [i]seen[/i] some of these greasy wackos? Ugh!"

"Please don't tell me you fantasize about fucking my corpse."

"No way. It's about you fucking [i]my[/i] corpse."

"Lye. No. [i]Dog[/i] no. Go be bait while I scrub that image out of my head."

The Cat snickered and slunk off, into the alley, but not so far in that Louis couldn't cover him. The Cat was so engrossed in being meticulously stealthy that it was only once he was in position that he actually looked at the scene. Whatever he saw, he abandoned stealth and scampered back to Louis.

Even if that hadn't been the plan, the screaming stopped abruptly, replaced by silence. A voice called out from the alley, "Don't be shy, Lt. Baxter. Come on in! I've got a [i]thing[/i] I need to chat with you about."

Louis crouched and took Lionel by the shoulders. The out-of-shape Cat was still panting from his earlier sprint, but at the Dog's insistence got his breath back enough to talk, "There was just this Wolf, with a radio set up on a table next to a speakerphone, and he has some big machine gun on mounts set up next to the table. He's got armor on, too. Bear Steel logo."

Louis looked up at the nearby apartment building, "I bet he's right beneath my window, too. Fuck. It's a trap. Did you recognize him at all, Lye?"

Lionel shook his head, "Nope. I didn't get a good look, though, just nope'd the hell out of there. Sorry."

Louis patted the Cat's shoulder, "That's okay, Lye. I don't want you hurt. This might be a bit beyond your skill, so you can head back if you want."

The small Cat surprised him in shaking his head, "I'll stick around. Help if I can."

To the Wolf, Louis called out, "Why don't you come on out? Leave the machine gun."

The Wolf did just that, and even Louis gulped when he saw who he was dealing with. The Wolf was wearing a full set of military 'Bear Steel' armor - Louis' little nine-mil was...not guaranteed to penetrate [i]that[/i]. In fact, it was very likely to ricochet or deform against the considerably harder ceramic steel of the armor. If Louis were spectacularly unlucky, it was possible he could shoot [i]himself[/i] by shooting [i]at[/i] the Wolf. 

Physically, he could possibly take the guy on, but the shiny glinting of the Wolf's claws told Louis those were mil-spec combat implants. 'Sharp enough to cut God' was the general consensus among those who used - or faced - them in actual combat. That shit was a close-quarters no-no if you were literally naked, like Louis was, and he had no intention of getting disemboweled. 

"That's close enough! Who the hell are you?"

The Wolf stopped, paws out to the side - seemingly docile but actually giving those claws room to swing, if needed. "Lt. Baxter, there's no need for the hostility. I mean you no harm."

"Answer the question, Wolf," Louis ordered gruffly, keeping his gun trained on the Wolf's muzzle while also keeping those claws in view and estimating if he could get a shot off before being lunged and murdered.

"Alekhine."

Louis involuntarily took a step back. Alekhine!? [i]That[/i] Alekhine? He was not in the mood for this shit on his day off. But he also couldn't ignore Alekhine - literally Black Tree's Enemy Number One - traipsing in his backyard. 

"You got some way to prove it?" 

The Wolf scoffed, "I'm not exactly carrying an ID card."

Lionel spoke up, "His picture's on the hit site, sir! $195,000 dead, his head as proof. Twice that, captured. Has a list of distinguishing features and a police scent profile chart. Here, look."

The Cat tugged on a pawful of Louis' hip fur to get him to bend down and look at the Cat's phone. The bright screen had an image of an obviously younger Alekhine, clearly a mugshot. Even from the picture alone, Louis could tell the Wolf in front of him was who he said he was. And the scent profile matched as well. 

"If it interests you, Interpol is offering half a million, alive. There's a reason no one's taken Black Tree up on the hit yet. Satisfied I am who I say? Can we get down to business?"

If the Wolf lunged, Louis would feel bad about it, but Lionel would have to get used as a shield, despite his earlier promise. Trying to make it look like a protective thing, he moved the Cat behind him, while also keeping him within reach. "What business would that be, Wolf?"

"There's gonna be a hit on your boss soon, and I wanna know now if you'll be willing to be paid off...or if I need to 'eliminate' you and your friend." The Wolf's reply was curt, matter-of-fact, and dead serious. 

Fuck, he almost actually pissed himself. Alekhine was a legend in the underworld - the Wolf was called a 'violence savant', and Louis had [i]no[/i] desire to find out what exactly [i]that[/i] meant. Especially not when he was naked. Plus, he really didn't want Lionel to get hurt, if he could help it. "What am I being paid off to do...or not do?"

"Just...be less attentive than usual. I'm not asking you to [i]help[/i] my guy, per se, more like--"

"Don't hinder. Got it. How much are you payin'?"

The Wolf grinned, "How much are you askin'? 'Member, it's to split 'tween you an' the Cat. A side request is that I was never here."

"Fifty grand, each, if you have it right now. Seventy each of you're wiring it. Throw in yon gun on yon table, and you have a deal."

"I got eighty grand in a duffel behind the dumpster I got the table out of. It's all I have on the spot - we underestimated you. And you know the thing's a prop, right? It was just to keep your...residents...from getting too curious. It's yours if you want it, nonetheless."

Lionel nudged Louis, "I'll take thirty grand if you want. Bastet, I'll take [i]no[/i] grand, if it gets us out of this sooner."

Louis looked his friend dead in the eye, "We're splitting it even." To Alekhine, he said, "We'll take it. Care to drop a hint as to when the...event...is going to be?"

The Wolf had already started walking away, but he called back, "By my phone's clock, my guy should have landed five hours ago, already. It'll probably take him a few days to get set up, so, 'soon' is the best guess I have. [i]Buenas noches, perros[/i]."

As soon as he was sure the Wolf was gone, Louis crouched and then just sat down as he waited for his heartrate to go back down. Louis was by no means a small Dog. At six-feet, he was fairly tall for a Canid, and he was all muscle. There's a reason his Clan (sub-Tribe within Dog Tribe) was known as 'Beardogs'. But Alekhine scared the [i]shit[/i] out of him. The things he'd heard about the Wolf, if they were even half true...yeah, no. Not someone he'd want to tango with. 

Lionel must've been feeling much the same, if not worse. The poor Cat was visibly shaken, and barely managed to scramble towards the dumpster when he was forced to drop his shorts, squat, and empty his bowels. 

"He scare you that much?" Louis teased. 

His friend yowled and avoided eye contact, "Shut [i]up[/i]! It's unrelated!"

Louis climbed to his feet and padded over to the Cat, whose insides were apparently rebelling, and stood guard. When Lionel glanced up at him, the Cat snickered at his swollen sheath, "If all I had to do was shit in front of you, I'd'a done this more often."

"It's unrelated. When you're done, I'm gonna fuck you," Louis growled, grinning at the shiver of arousal that became visible in Lionel's fur.

"Oh, God, yes!"

"Good kitty."

The moment Lionel was 'done', Louis wasted no time in reaching down and picking the Cat up by the hips, causing Lionel's shorts to fall off his footpaws, not that either of them noticed. 

"Ohwhoahwhoa! Oh, fuck, you're strong! Please don't drop me!"

Louis held the flailing Cat at arm's length, "I'm not gonna drop you; stop flailing! Lye, for fuck's sake, just go limp and raise your tail! I'm not gonna drop you!"

Without anything supporting his paws, Lionel's instincts were hard to override, but he managed, forcing himself to let Louis hold him in the air and shove his comparatively huge snout under his tail. When he was sure Lionel was clean, he set his friend back down, laughing as the Cat immediately dropped to all fours with his ass up, tail obligingly out of the way. 

"Not here, Lye. You're coming back to warm my bed. For now, let's get the money and the prop thing."

Lionel grumbled, but stood up, yelping as Louis reached a paw down to grope the tabby's erection, "Lye, I...aghm...I like you, too. You're cute."

Lionel ground his cock against Louis' pads, "I know. It's how I make money. People pay me to watch videos of me doing... well, Black Tree stuff, but all cute-like. My on-screen persona is, like... well, I've heard it described as 'a goth-y teletubby that fucks dead stuff'. It pays my rent, Ok?"

"Look, Staff are allowed 'family' to live in their apartments, rent- free...if we, uh..."

"Fuck yes! If... you're okay with... you know."

"If you're OK with being a...well, a 'sex kitten' - I only now realized the pun there, it wasn't intentional."

Lionel giggled nonetheless, "I'm OK with that."

"Good, let's get the stuff and get back up to my bed before I paw you off here in the alley."

[b][DOUGLAS][/b]

Much of the rest of the flight was spent cuddling with Collin, who explained his plan, "First, how many of the Security staff are likely to recognize you?"

"All of them. Louis - I mean, Lt. Baxter, the chief of security overall - insisted that every single member of Security know what I look like, naked and clothed. They also had this Police-Dog do a 'scent profile', but I think Louis was just messing with me."

"No, scent profiles [i]are[/i] a thing. Police all over are full of Canids, because we got better sniffers. To aid in inter-department communication, they developed standardized ways to describe a given scent. If you're trained in the jargon, the description alone can help you recognize and match the actual thing. You know those colored barcodes at the edge of a driver's license or passport? That's a digital scent profile. An officer can scan it and get the full profile. If it don't match with [i]you[/i], you might get in trouble."

"So, I just realized there's no way you're getting me through Security, if they all have seen me."

"You'd be surprised. One moment..."

A few moments later, the same Stewardess as previously arrived, looking very perturbed. "Forgive me, Mr. Marlowe...I would like to make clear that I'm not a prostitute...if that's what you were..."

"Heavens, no! I understand that Alaya allegedly provides 'in-flight makeovers' as part of their VIP package. I wanted to enquire what all that entails. Can we get my new pet a new look? While we're at it, what about this tan line?"

"Hair coloring is easy enough. The tanline...well, there's a d-i-y way that can do, but I'm drawing the line at touching his genitals or rear. [i]You[/i] can do it, I'll tell you how. And...this might be too bold, but if you're trying to sneak him past Security, you'll want to shave him. Or most of him. It can help with body scent, so I'm told."

Collin nodded and turned to Doug, "So do you want to choose the style or the color?"

[b][RALF][/b]

<〔 RALF BARNKOPF 〕>
<〔 ᛒᛇᚱᚾᚴᛟᚠ ᛫ ᚱᛇᛚᛖᚠ 〕>

<〔 Age : 12 〕>
<〔 ᛚᚢᛋᛁᛗ - ᛬ᚠᚷ᛬ 〕>

<〔 VIRGIN / MALE 〕>
<〔 ᛉᛌᚪᚾᚷᛖᚱ / ᛏᛟᚹᛋᛌ 〕>

<〔 Tribe : Dog (Mutt) #ddog 〕>
<〔 ᛈᚪᛋᛌᚪᚾ : ᚺᚢᚾᚻ {ᛗᛁᛏ} #ddog 〕>

<〔 Rent : [color="red"] C̩̯̍ 0.⁹⁹ (any use except snuff!) [/color]〕>
<〔 Buy  : [color="blue"] C̩̯̍ 20.⁰⁰ (-C̩̯̍ 5.⁰⁰ snuff discount!) [/color]〕>

<〔 ᚷᛖᛚᛞᛇᛚᛗ — [color="red"] C̩̯̍ 0.⁹⁹ ᛬᛬ ᛁᚾᛏᛖ ᛫ ᚪᚴ ᛫ ᚠᛌᛟᚹᛋ ᛫᛫ ᚾᛁᚾ ᛫  ᛭ᛋᚾᚢᚠᚠ᛭! ᛬᛬ [/color]〕>
<〔 ᚷᛖᛚᛞᚢᛏ  — [color="blue"] C̩̯̍ 20.⁰⁰  ᛬᛬ -C̩̯̍ 5.⁰⁰ ᛭ᛋᚾᚢᚠᚠ᛭ᛚᛟᛋ! ᛬᛬ [/color]〕>

The cage had beeped briefly when the prices changed. Normally, he slept through it, but this time the beeping woke him and, when he saw what he was 'going for'...he wasn't much inclined to sleep anymore. 

Ninety-nine cents. When the market actually opened in a couple more hours, that's what anyone would have to pay to do [i]anything[/i] they wanted to do to him. Except kill him, but if they wanted to do [i]that[/i], it was just fifteen credits more. Ralf had seen what happened to the others if their prices got dropped to this low. They were basically raped to death.  And their corpse went up for auction, after which [i]it[/i] was usually raped, too. Ralf couldn't stop staring at the red and blue numbers telling everyone that he was practically a free sample. 

He was so horrified he couldn't even cry. He just stared in numb shock at the sign of his doom.

The door to the 'pet market' banged open, and in came the morning staff. Ralf knew all of them by now - he'd been at the market nearly a month, now. While even he wasn't naive enough to think these people were his friends or cared about him in any way, they had always been nice to him. It devastated him when he saw their unsurprised reaction to his new price. One of them even started taking bets on how many 'renters' he would have before someone snuffed him. Bobby, the Rat who usually fed and washed him, was the only member of staff who was even remotely sympathetic. Once the others had started their various tasks in getting the market set up, Bobby made his way over to Ralf's cage. 

"Hey. Uh, I'm figuring you're not too happy right now. The situation you're in... it's a nightmare, I know. Look, I'll make you an offer : if you want, I can put some...ah...'feel good treats' in your food. It won't stop what's gonna be done to you, but you'll find you don't care quite as much."

Ralf came out of his daze just long enough to really compute what Bobby was saying. And [i]that[/i] was just long enough to rekindle his spirit. The normally docile pup kicked the cage door where Bobby was crouching, snarling, "Go [i]fuck[/i] yourself!"

Bobby had fallen back onto his rump, startled by the pup's sudden aggression and swearing. Snarling a bit himself, he climbed to his feet and kicked the cage back, "Fine, you little cocksleeve. I'm gonna be the first one to fuck your corpse after you're snuffed out!"

Ralf had [i]liked[/i] Bobby. The Rat was the only other Anthro staff at the market, and he'd been nice to Ralf - [i]much[/i] nicer than any of the others. But now Ralf really understood how Bobby could help sell Anthro pups to people who were going to do horrible things. Bobby, Ralf realized, was not a good person. Even his offer of drugs to make...that...hurt less - it was 'kind'...but Bobby wasn't going to lift a paw to actually save him.

The Rat was also petty. Ralf wouldn't be getting breakfast today, apparently. Fuck him. Fuck him, and him, and him, and him, and him, but Bobby most of all. Fucking traitor. Fucking [i]Rat[/i].

The market doors banged open again, this time to reveal a Wolf. The Wolf wasn't one of the staff, that much was sure. For one thing he was [i]way[/i] more muscular than any of the 'pet store' staff. He was naked other than a shiny metal collar - copper-plated and polished to a high gleam. The red metal stood out sharply against the Wolf's otherwise black fur. Despite the collar, the Wolf didn't hold himself like a beaten slave. He stood tall, composed, and confident, both paws behind his back in a relaxed manner. 

"Attention : This is a robbery. Comply with my demands and I'll allow you to live."

The Wolf's voice was soft, almost quiet, but the words stopped everyone in their tracks. The six staff and dozen or so 'pets' all suddenly had their full attention on the Wolf. 

Ralf's eyes locked with the Wolf's for a brief moment, and the pup for a moment had hope. But then the Wolf pointed to him, "My first demand : that. Bring it here." 

Dominic and Wayne were the two closest to Ralf's cage at the time, and they were hesitant. Too hesitant for the Wolf's patience, as their whole head and shoulders turned into red mist and jelly following the booming of the huge gun the Wolf had brought out from behind his back. They were gone in under five seconds, and Ralf's ears now hurt tremendously. 

That massive paw-cannon moved to line up with Bobby, "You,  Rat.  You're next unless that pup's kissing my footpaws in the next sixty seconds."

Even Ralf was a bit surprised at how quickly Bobby scrambled across the room, unlatched Ralf's cage, and manhandled the struggling pup over to grovel at the Wolf's paws. Under the Wolf's murderous glare, Bobby practically slammed Ralf's muzzle against the Wolf's footpaws, screaming, "Kiss 'em! He's gonna fucking kill me! Kiss his fucking paws, bitch!"

Though he was vaguely aware he was taking a huge risk, Ralf fought against the Rat's attempts to get him to kiss those paws, hoping the traitor would get his comeuppance. 

He was not disappointed, though he hadn't realized just how gross getting splattered with hot gore at close range would feel. 

The gun moved to point down at Ralf, just as the boy looked up at the Wolf. Their eyes locked again for a moment,  and Ralf kept the contact up as long as he could while he slowly lowered himself and licked the top of the Wolf's nearer footpaw. The gun, thankfully, moved away as the Wolf threw his head back and laughed. When he looked down at Ralf again, he was smiling, "Oh, I'm definitely keeping [i]you[/i]."

One of the staff members sneezed, which snapped the Wolf's attention away from his new pet. The gun came to point at the sneezer, "OK,  we're on part two, now. Money. Last person to donate to the 'please, don't kill me, Mr Wolf' fund [i]gets turned into jell-o[/i]. C'mon, 'ungentlemen', clock's ticking!"

The staffers panicked. The Wolf quickly accumulated a healthy pile of jewelry, along with various denominations and nationalities of currency. It wasn't quite a dragon's hoard, but it was still a fairly respectable haul. The terrified humans even robbed the corpses of their coworkers in their desperation. 

The Wolf shot the remaining three staffers without giving them the slightest warning. He then dragged all the bodies into the center of the room. Ralf sat near the Wolf's loot pile,  watching in fascinated horror (and more than a bit of schadenfreude) as the staff were dispatched. After several reloads, the remaining pets in the market were similarly eliminated. Then it was just the Wolf, Ralf, and the bodies. 

There was a long and awkward silence, finally broken by Ralf, "Are you going to kill me, too?"

The Wolf shrugged, "Maybe. Will you suck my dick?"

"Yes," Ralf replied instantly.

"Let me fuck you? Will you drink piss?..." Every answer was the same. Ralf had no hesitation about it - he knew pleasing the Wolf equaled surviving. If the Wolf asked him to do something, Ralf had to do it. 

The Wolf seemed a little disappointed with Ralf's compliance, and the pup wondered briefly if putting up at least a token reluctance might please the Wolf more. Finally, the Wolf said, "Here's the deal, you obey. You do what I say when I say it, I'll keep giving you food and stuff - I'll take care of you. But, the moment you disobey me [i]in the slightest[/i], and I'll strangle you to death and dump your corpse in an alley."

Ralf nodded eagerly, "I can do that."

The Wolf smiled, "Good puppy. Now, let's get away from this massacre. By Dog! What was I thinking? There are cubs around!"

Ralf laughed at the dry sarcasm in the Wolf's voice and couldn't help his tail wagging. He nudged the 'loot' with his footpaw, "What are we doing about this stuff...er...Mr. Wolf?"

"I like that! 'Mr. Wolf'! That's adorable, keep calling me [i]that[/i]. And uh...fuckit, let's see here..."

When the Black Wolf and young mutt left, both were wearing as much jewelry as they could wear.

[b][COLLIN][/b]

Bright. Goddamn Yellow. Collin even paid extra (two more of his claw caps) for the, quote 'especially hi-vis' version, at the boy's insistence. The Fox made them dye every bit of hair Doug had. Well, all the dark ones. Scalp, eyebrows, underarms, and the boy's pubic hair were now all bright yellow. 

"I'd like to remind you that [i]you[/i] picked this. Fuck, I think your hair actually is [i]glowing[/i] slightly!"

Doug kept staring into the mirror, running his hands through his now alien hair, "I was not expecting this, to be honest. So what's the style gonna be, then? You let me pick...this...so you're obviously picking the style, right? Whatcha got, Collie?"

Collin startled at the unexpected use of his old nickname, but recovered quickly, "Who said [i]I'd[/i] be choosing the style? Miss Todd - you remember her, from your 'misfire' earlier? [i]She[/i] has picked your style, today."

Doug blushed and was clearly not looking forward to finding out what the flight attendant had in store for him. She made it worse by forcing him to be blindfolded for the duration, which made the whole process vaguely ominous, as though at any moment, she might slice his throat with those scissors.

His throat was, thankfully, un-sliced, and the boy looked pleasantly surprised at the wide and fluffy mohawk he now sported when it was done. Doug had to admit, the boy in the mirror was already unrecognizable, and Collin wasn't done yet. 

"OK, so what Miss Todd earned another claw-cap from me for was explaining how this d-i-y tan thing works, and it's tangential to the hair thing, actually. See, Biofoam has a lot of neat effects - used diluted on hair, and it can spontaneously make it grow about a half- inch. On the skin, it'll do the same thing, [i]unless[/i] suddenly exposed to strong UV light. In [i]that[/i] case, it breaks down and stains the skin, which is what we're hoping to exploit. Now, from my understanding, results are mixed, and seem to depend partially on the thoroughness of the Biofoam layer, and how well that's kept from other light before 'exposure'. Apparently, it's something like photography, but on the skin."

Collin watched the boy nod, but the kid then asked, "Why are we bothering? You're letting me stay dressed, so no one will see it, anyways."

"Because, [i]Doggie[/i], you're getting [i]shown off[/i] to Security. See, there's always two ways to hide - make sure no one sees you, or make sure [i]everyone[/i] sees [i]only[/i] you. They're looking for a polite young teen in casual clothing, whose hair was his natural color and styled so it would look decent in school photos. We're showing them the opposite in almost every way. You're a human pet, we've dyed literally all your hair bright yellow, and you now have a mohawk, and you'll be [i]naked[/i]. With a tanline that the Doug they're looking for would never have. Now take your clothes back off, I don't wanna find out what this stuff does to fabric."

There were still several flight attendants around, and Collin could see Doug's brief hesitation at stripping. Collin didn't even have to chide him, though - he obeyed without complaint. 

The fur of Collin's paws grew out nearly an inch as he smeared the disturbingly warm foam onto Doug. By the time he was done, the boy looked like he was wearing boxers made of shaving cream, and [i]Collin[/i] looked like he was going to transform into a mighty Werefox, paws first. 

"Well! Now for the second part, while Miss...Decatte, was it?gets my werepaws back in order," Collin let the other two flight attendants set up the UV flashbulbs they'd be using, while he charmed the hairdresser as she deftly trimmed his paw-fur. She was quite skilled with those scissors, finishing just in time for Collin to get to watch as the bulbs flashed and the foam disappeared, leaving an even tan over the boy's previously milk-pale skin. 

The treatment also had a side effect of increasing the volume of Doug's pubic hair, or at least made what he'd had grow a little longer. Collin saw no reason to explain to Doug that the tan he'd just gotten would last unusually long (depending how often he bathed), or that the hair coloring was guaranteed permanent. His hair would from now on just [i]grow[/i] that way as though humans naturally could have such a color. 

"So, what now?" Doug asked, and Collin grinned.

"We wait for that to fully 'cure', apparently. It should get rough-feeling in a minute or two. I was told to keep you from scratching at it until it [i]looks[/i] rough, too. Then, we get a much of it off as we can, and rinse off the rest."

"Can I sit down?"

"I'm not sure, considering where we're working on. She didn't make it sound like we'd be waiting long. Anyways, I did wanna chat now the stewardesses are gone. Doug, it's going to be [i]critical[/i] that we both play the roles expected of us, down there. I wanna be sure you know what that means."

"I'm not naive!" the boy replied, a little defensively. 

 Collin shook his head, "Never said you were. But you're gonna haveta keep it in mind at all times down there - if I'm not around, that collar essentially makes you 'free use'."

"You'll protect me, right?"

"...Not always...unless you'd actually be damaged, no. Remember, I'll be playing the role of your owner. Unless it affects a pet's use or value to [i]them[/i], Owners don't usually raise fuss. A lot of them actually enjoy watching their slaves suffer. Now, I'm not going to let it go [i]that[/i] far, but I'm not going to blow our cover to protect you if you're not actually in danger, either."

Doug gulped, clearly feeling like he was in over his head. Collin stepped closer and put his paws on the boy's shoulders, "Doug, don't worry. Be obedient to [i]me[/i] and the rest can be excused as you being 'new to the collar'. Ok? ᛞᛌᛖᛊᛖᛞᛟᚹ ᛫ ᚴᛖᛃᛊᛖᛞ."

"What does that mean?"

Collin felt a little queasy as he replied, remembering that he wasn't the only older male Canid to say that to an impressionable youth, "...It means 'trust me'."