You’ve always loved the local bathhouse and gym, and not just because as an otter your heart belongs to the water. Within these walls, the loud and frantic outside world gives way to warmth and relaxation. You can return to nature, at least for a couple of hours.

The fact that you don’t have to wear clothes is a nice bonus too. You’ve always found them rather restrictive and uncomfortable but were too shy to try nudism before the bathhouse [i]made[/i] you disrobe. You’ve never been very good at disobeying orders either, and it turns out all you needed to finally bite the bullet was someone to tell you what to do.

Today you’re just relaxing in the steam room, letting the heat soothe your muscles and the steam clear out your pores. You needed this; work’s been wringing you dry recently. One part of you is very much [i]not[/i] relaxed though: between your legs, your dick stands at rigid attention, just like it has since the moment you got here. Being naked just does this to you; it always has. Fortunately, no one at the bathhouse seems to mind. You suspect it might even be encouraged.

There’s nothing wrong with popping a boner here. You’ve seen things go a lot further. You’ve seen handjobs in the locker room, blowjobs on the barbell bench, even full-on fucking in the baths. You’ve even seen showers that turned into the golden variety, if you catch your drift… which you obviously do. 

It’s an unspoken rule here that there’s no shame in looking. No shame in touching either, as long as you have permission. If these walls could talk they’d have no shortage of lewd vignettes. This place is a voyeur's paradise… and an exhibitionist’s paradise too. You consider yourself a bit of both: you don’t show off your body on purpose, but something about being [i]exposed[/i] gets your engine running. Which is why you’ve been hard nonstop since you walked through the doors.

Fortunately (or unfortunately?), you’ve had the steam room to yourself since you got here about twenty minutes ago. But that changes when you spot a silhouette on the other side of the foggy glass, and hear the door slide open.

Another otter joins you in the steam room. He’s bigger than you, but only by an inch or two. You’ve always been short, even for an otter, and this guy’s about average height. His coat is chocolate-colored, with mottled bits of vanilla, and a messy dirty-blonde mane runs down his back.

You recognize him immediately. You’d recognize him anywhere, even though you haven’t seen him in (you do some quick mental math) twelve years? Not since you were both cubs half your current age.

His name is Ripley, and he was your classmate back in grade school. He always found a reason to pick on you. Sometimes he teased you for being lanky, or being a nerd. But his favorite way to bully you was to make fun of your underwear.

See, all your life you’ve had a hyperactive bladder. Sometimes (okay, more than sometimes), you would have trouble making it to the toilet on time. Urges would hit you out of nowhere, and at the most inopportune times. You’ve mostly learned to live with it now, but back when you were in school it was a major problem, and one the school nurse had thought fit to treat by giving you some [i]extra protection[/i], of the infantile sort.

He called them “incontinence briefs,” but the fancy title wasn’t fooling anyone. They were pull-ups, like a little kid would wear. And given your height, they were probably the [i]exact[/i] same pull-ups the little kids wore. They had cartoonish designs on them too: even now you can still picture the little blue and pink otters that adorned your undergarments.

[i]You don’t remember how Ripley first found out about your pull-ups. But you remember how the rest of the school found out: when Ripley pantsed you in front of your locker, and then laughed as every passerby noticed your plush butt. After you got over the shock, you frantically pulled your pants back up from around your ankles. But your padded rear was sticking out the whole time, very clearly soaked with your pee.

A snapshot of that moment is forever burned into your brain. You’ve spent countless long nights reliving it (and more than a few pawing off to it.) That was the day you discovered just how [/i]good[i] it felt to be exposed in front of someone, especially if you were forced into it.

You spent the rest of the day avoiding the stares and whispers of the other cubs… and with the hardest erection you had ever experienced at the time. Something about knowing that everyone was talking about you made your dick throb and press into your soft padding, and every time you adjusted your protection, the fabric teased your crotch.

By the time you visited the nurse before seventh period, hoping for a quick change, your cock was swollen, flush and red. And of course the nurse saw it. He did his best to be professional and ignore it, but just knowing that he could see it, knowing that he knew you were aroused, was enough to ignite a fire in your belly. And when his paw brushed against it during the change, completely by accident, that was all it took. You came so hard that your vision went white… as did your belly as you painted it with seed. You experienced your first ever orgasm on the nurse’s table, sitting in your own soaked pull up.

In hindsight, that day awakened your sexuality.

Ripley teased you even harder after that, and in ways that were, in hindsight, deliberately sexual in nature. He would follow you into the bathroom and ask if you needed help aiming at the urinal. He would perform “diaper checks” in the hallway, loudly announcing the state of your pants. He called you “Sog Champ,” a nickname that several underclassmen learned before they ever heard your real name. And you never told a teacher about it because:

* One: you knew that telling a teacher wouldn’t do anything, but also because
* Two: the days that Ripley teased you were the days when you would get home and masturbate in your pull-ups for hours.

You could never forget Ripley, but you don’t know if he would remember you. You’re not sure if you want him to.[/i]

Back in the steam room, a peculiar smell hits your nostrils, aided by the heavy steam. It’s strong enough to pull you out of your memories, impossible to ignore. And it’s clearly coming from Ripley.

The larger otter climbs onto the seat next to you and flops onto his back, melting into the bench. He pulls his legs up onto the bench and spreads them, settling into a lazy butterfly pose. One paw presses into his chest and then slides down his smooth furred belly, grasping between his legs with only a modicum of restraint. He pushes down with his hand, bites his lip, and lets out a powerful huff. His hand begins moving in slow circles as his hips gyrate. His butt wiggles, the way that otters do.

It’s like he doesn’t even notice your presence. Honestly, that might sting more than him being mean to you.

You finally place the scent. It’s [i]heat[/i], and a powerful one at that. Ripley’s whole nervous system must be flooded with hormones right now, all his urges overridden by an instinctual desire to breed.

You remember the first time that you smelled Ripley’s heat.

[i]You had visited the nurse’s office for a change of pants, a routine by this point. But this time, the nurse wasn’t at his desk. Normally, you would wait patiently. But at that moment, your pee had already cooled and your wet pull-up was chafing against your thighs. And to make matters worse, you were leaking. You’d left a trail of piss all the way from math class to here, and were slowly making a puddle in your seat. Your shorts were stained with the evidence of your deed, and you just wanted out of them.

So, in your impatience, you decided to check inside the examination room. You pushed open the door and you saw the nurse, a lithe fox in his early twenties that you maybe had a childhood crush on, leaning over the table. But you also saw Ripley laying on his belly. He was clutching a pillow tight against his chest and head. His face was flushed red. And his pants were around his ankles, his butt raised slightly, with the nurse’s middle finger up to the base inside Ripley’s heat-drenched cunt.

As you watched, the nurse twisted his hand, and Ripley moaned into his pillow. The nurse pistoned his finger in and out, the slender digit emerging from Ripley’s wet insides covered in a sheen of fluids. Ripley’s juices were running down his thighs, pooling on the sanitary pad laid out on the table beneath him.

You could hear the wet squelch of the nurse’s finger squishing against Ripley’s fluid-soaked insides, and you felt yourself stiffen in your pants. You’ve never seen a vagina before, and you never expected it to be so [/i]loud[i]. You didn’t expect the smell either, a musky, spicy scent that could only be coming from Ripley’s sopping crotch.

And then Ripley saw you. You weren’t trying to hide, just standing in the doorway struck dumb by what you saw. He gasped, drawing the pillow even tighter against his chest and jerking backward onto his knees (inadvertently sitting on the nurse’s hand in the process.) It wasn’t a behavior you’d seen from the boy before; then again, he’d never been vulnerable around you before. You caught him quite literally with his pants around his ankles, karma for every time he’d done the same to you.

The nurse spotted you too and shamed you for spying, although with his hand pinned he wasn’t able to reach the door to close it. You were about to excuse yourself, face red with shame for intruding on such a private moment, but Ripley interrupted: “It’s okay,” he told the nurse. “He’s a friend. He can stay.”

It was the first time that Ripley ever called you a friend. At the time, you were conflicted but wanted to believe it. Now, you’re pretty sure friendship wasn’t the reason he let you stay.

The nurse seemed to be on the fence, at least until he saw the trail you were making. He looked back and forth between the cub that was currently making a mess on his linoleum and the cub that was sitting on his finger, trying to decide whose problem was most important.

Ripley made the choice for him by pulling off of his finger, his cunny making lewd shlicking noises as his tight inner walls clenched around the departing digit. “I can wait,” he promised. He disentangled his shorts from around his feet and, now fully bottomless, hopped off the table and sat down in a chair. His legs were spread, his swollen mound fully visible to the room before he began rubbing it with his hand, his own middle finger replacing the nurse’s. It was a pose almost exactly like the one he’s making now, in the steam room with you. At the time, you somehow didn’t realize that he was preparing to masturbate to your diaper change, although it seems obvious in hindsight.

You’d never known how to disobey Ripley. The nurse must have felt similarly, because he followed his lead without question, picking you up and laying you down on the table. In his flusterment though, he didn’t replace the sanitary cover, and your head was laid right next to the part that had just spent the last several minutes soaking up Ripley’s vaginal juices.[/i]

That’s why you could never forget the smell: you spent one of your most formative diaper changes with your nose pressed up to a concentrated burst of it. You never thought you’d get to smell it again, but it’s just as overwhelming now as it was back then.

You watch Ripley pleasure himself next to you, and his self-stimulation takes on a fevered intensity. His hips jerk up upward suddenly, and then again and again in regular rhythm, and he grunts through gritted teeth. He grinds his mound against his palm, and soon a splash of fluid squirts from between his legs, staining the floor. His whole body tenses as he cums, hissing as he sucks in a breath between his teeth. Then he exhales, his body slowly melting back into his seat like an inflatable that just sprung a leak. His head rolls lazily in your direction, and he makes eye contact with you.

As soon as he knows he has your attention, he smirks and you hear a hiss. The fucker just released his bladder, and because of his folded-up pose, his piss stream arcs up several inches above his waist before splattering against the stone tiles. 

You wonder what the appropriate thing is to say to a school bully you haven’t seen in twelve years. There’s feelings in you that you only found the words to articulate as an adult. You could tear into him if you wanted, but you’ve never been the confrontational type. So you silently watch as he sprays his pee all over the floor, the bench, and himself. And though you thought the scent of his heat was bad before, it’s nothing compared to the pheromone laced piss that’s now flooding the room.

The stream dies to a dribble, and still neither of you have spoken a word. Finally, Ripley breaks the silence: "Get me a towel?"

You dumbly nod and stand up, and Ripley seizes the moment to pinch your ass. You flinch and quickly cross the room to grab a towel from the rack. In the past whenever Ripley gave you an order, you obeyed without even really thinking about it. It seems that part of you hasn't changed one bit.

You hand him the towel, which he uses to wipe between his legs. "Damn heats," he laments. "Nothing ever keeps them down for long.” He tosses the towel at you, and then his eyes fall on your cock, which is somehow even harder than before. “You liked watching that? You ever seen a guy in heat before?”

He doesn’t recognize you, or he’d know damn well that you’ve seen a guy in heat before. And you did a lot more than just [i]see[/i].

[i]You mind returns to that fateful encounter in the nurse’s office. The nurse had just finished cleaning your drenched hindquarters, but before he could put the new pull-up on you, his phone rang. You couldn’t hear the words on the other end, only their feverish intensity. The nurse’s words told enough of the story though: “Stay calm; keep it elevated; I’ll be right there.” Then he handed you the pull-up and asked if you could finish up on your own.

You indignantly told him that yes, you knew how to put underwear on, thank you very much. 

Then he left you alone with Ripley, just two bottomless boys too shy to make the first move. See, up until that point, you had never been alone with him before. Without an audience to tease you in front of, Ripley didn’t immediately attack your pride. And without his peers to back him up, he seemed hesitant to say anything.

You didn’t know what to say either. You’d rehearsed so many times in your head the things you’d say to him if you caught him alone, but all those words died on your lips. The situation was too surreal.

“So… I don’t think he’s coming back,” Ripley finally said.

“Guess not.” You hopped off the table and put one foot in the pull-up, fully prepared to get dressed and leave.

“Hold on,” he said. You freeze, one foot through the pull-up, the other suspended in midair. “I didn’t cum yet. Want to do it?”

Your heart tried to leap out your throat. “Do what?”

“Sex, dummy.” Ripley turned around and leaned over the chair, raising his muscular tail to reveal a pair of tight lips. One hand supported his weight, while the other reached behind and tugged on his mound, pulling his pussy lips to the side. A gooey strand of thick white fluid oozed from his freshly spread slit, and between his folds, his tight pink love tunnel beckoned. “You can put it in if you want.”

Your curiosity got the better of you, so you decided to put off disrobing for now, dragging the pull-up along the floor by one leg as you got behind him. You’d never seen a vagina up close before, and like any teenage boy, you couldn’t help but be curious.

You poked his puffy vulva, and found it soft and spongy and warm. He grunted, and your fingertip came away gooey. You slid the finger inside, amazed at how there could be so much resistance but so little friction. His virgin insides latched onto your finger and did their best to trap it there. You moved your finger to the side, hoping to widen the hole so you could look inside. But all you could see was rings of muscle and gooey webs of arousal.

Ripley whined. Hearing him whine was such a new and amazing sound. “Come on, stop teasing me,” he begged you. “Just stick it in already.”

You eyed the door. What if the nurse forgot something and came back? Is this really worth getting in trouble for?

“Stop being a pussy and fuck me!” Ripley shouted. It was a direct order, delivered with such intensity that it tickled some primal, submissive part of your brain. You realized you can’t say no to him. So you lined your cock up with his entrance, rubbing the underside of your shaft between his folds to get it nice and lubed. With how tight he was, you were going to need all the lubrication you can get. He huffed and nodded, urging you forward.

With a grunt of effort, you leaned into him, slowly sinking your dick between his thighs, and into heaven. You didn’t expect him to be this hot inside, but his body heat assaults your cock. And he was so slick, your dick displacing even more juices from inside him and spraying it all over your legs.

He let loose a strangled cry, like a wounded animal. It was a sound you’ve never heard come out of Ripley’s mouth before. His hand that was spreading him open moved between his legs to feverishly rub at his clit. His other hand gripped the armrest of the chair, shaking from strain. He whimpered as you spread his insides with your cock. “Come on, do it harder…” he begged. “Why are you such a fucking tease? Am I your first pussy or something?”

His constant belittlement burrowed under your skin: you wondered why he had to be so mean, even when it was just the two of you. “Yeah… who else would I have…” you muttered. You decided if he wanted harder, you’d give him harder. You pulled back out of him, both of you groaning as his tight hole gripped your member. Then you hilted in him as quick as you could, your thighs slapping wetly against his legs. Ripley makes another one of those elaborate throat singing noises. 

“Me too. I’ve never had a real cock before, only toys.” Ripley’s voice was shaky, and he switches to using both hands to support your combined weight. “The real thing’s so much better. Should have done this sooner…”  Ripley’s cunt is an endless waterfall, sweat and arousal running down both your legs and sticking in your fur.

You were pretty quiet, but he was loud enough that anyone outside would be able to make a pretty good guess what you were doing. You quickly learned to read his squeals and snorts and got a sense for what really got him going: the rougher the better. “Harder!” he wailed, even though you were already going as hard as you could.

When it became clear that you were going neither fast enough nor hard enough for him, he sighed and pushed your pelvis away from him. Your cock sprang free, the cool air giving agonizing respite from his silky hot insides. “In the chair,” he ordered, and when you took too long to obey, he grabbed your shoulders and forced you to sit. Then he climbed into your lap, lined up cock with hole, and dropped down. He took your entire length in a single fluid motion, then started bouncing on your cock.

There was another problem too: this is too new, too much, too fast, and you didn’t know how much longer you could last. Your balls clenched,and your thighs tensed as you tried to prolong this moment as long as you could. “Ripley, slow down,” you warn him. You weren’t sure if he would want to take your spunk, or whether he would want the fun to end so soon.

He growls, a low rolling thunder from his throat. “No fucking way. I’m almost there.”

“Ripley…” you tried to warn him again. The way he was using you like a glorified dildo for his own pleasure was too hot, and even as you tried to stay calm and still, an electric feeling crawled up your spine. You couldn’t help it. You [/i]had[i] to cum, and right then there was only one place to do it. “Fuck! Ripley, I’m gonna…”

“Hey, wait!” He sensed the change, but not in time to climb off of you. He felt you shudder as a whole-body orgasm swept your senses. You unleashed your youthful load inside his tunnel, even as he flailed on top of you.

He finally disentangled himself from you and scooped some of your cum out of his used cunt with his fingers, grumbling in disgust. “What the fuck, man? I didn’t think you were gonna nut in me. I’m in heat, dumbass.”

You were still trying to catch your breath. “I tried to warn you…”

“Whatever. Can you at least go again?” He grabbed your dick, but he couldn’t stop it from going soft in his hand. “Fine. But you gotta lick me til I cum.” He turned his back to you and leaned against the examination table, then slid his feet on the floor, lowering into a half-split. Cum, your cum, leaked from between his folds.

You obediently get on your knees and lift his tail. Maybe it’s because this still doesn’t feel real, but it’s so easy to fall into a trance-like state and just do what he asks. You put your lips to his petals and suck, tasting your own salty cum for the first time. You probe his hole with your tongue and hear him sigh.

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely doing this again later,” he announced. He pushed his underside against your snout, grinding his taint on your nose as you ate him out. It didn’t take long before you felt his tunnel tense and squeeze your face, and he squirted even more of his heat-laced juices directly onto your tongue. 

Once he was satisfied, he pulled the sanitary sheet off the examination table and pushed your head away from his ass. He all but ignored you as he used the sheet to dab sweat and juices off of his legs. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll deny it,” he told you flatly.

So you never told anyone. You just left and went back to class and acted like it never happened. But it did happen. And it would happen again. You would go on to fuck Ripley many times after that. You even developed a system. Ripley told the nurse that he wanted privacy to take care of his heats on his own from now on, instead of the nurse helping him directly. Then, you coordinated your nurse visits so that you’d both arrive during lunch. Ripley would get a room to himself, and you’d come visit before getting your change.

Sometimes Ripley would get impatient and grab you before or after school, dragging you off to an empty classroom for some fun. You were always worried about getting caught, but that only made it more thrilling for both of you.

You hoped that this new secret connection would make Ripley nicer to you, but if anything, his teasing escalated, and took a new, vaguely romantic bent. For instance, one day you found a package of pull-ups left outside your locker, and a note saying, “Heard you need these.” It was a successful gambit to humiliate you, but it was also a practical and functional gift. Another time, after Ripley performed one of his nonconsensual pants checks and found you wet, he dragged you to the bathroom and insisted on changing your pants. You didn’t even fuck that time, although you fucked lots of other times.

Given how much you’d pissed him off the first time, you made a deliberate effort not to cum in him again. But he would always get mad at you whenever you pulled out before he was satisfied, and out of spite refused to get you off with his hand or mouth. You were forced to either get yourself off or return to class with an aching, unsated erection. And you could tell he was unsated too, because he would usually drag you off to the bathroom at the next available opportunity.

You had a couple sessions of coitus interruptus, with Ripley getting increasing frustrated each time you had to stop fucking him. Fearing that his impatience would reach a breaking point, you decided to push yourself harder, stave off your orgasm for as long as you could instead of playing it safe.

The result was predictable. You were fucking in the toilet stall when the tension in your balls decided that it would not be denied, and it exploded out of you, the prolonged edging producing your hardest orgasm since the last time you’d creampied him. Afterward, he sat on the toilet, prodding his cum-dripping cunny with his finger and sighing. “It’s fine,” he said, annoyed. “You already did it once before, so it’s fine to do it again. Finish inside me from now on, okay?”

And so you did, at Ripley’s request. Every time you fucked him after that, you made sure to leave him with a parting gift of your seed. Afterward you would take a moment to watch your cum drip out of him and run down his leg. Sometimes he made you wipe it up with a paper towel, but if there wasn’t one available he’d just put his pants and underpants back on. One time, he pulled you into the bathroom after school and you discovered that your entire load had leaked out into his briefs, staining them dark and giving them a randy odor. You had to fill him up again with a second load before he would let you go home.

Some days he would get on your bus after school and you’d have clandestine sex in the back row. You never got caught, although your classmates must have wondered why the bus smelled like heat and cum.

Then one day he got into a fight and got expelled, and you never saw him again. You didn’t get the chance to say goodbye properly, since you had never exchanged phone numbers or addresses. For a time you wondered what had happened to him, but gradually you moved on. Without his interference in your life, you found new hobbies and made new friends. But you never forgot about your escapades, or the way his pussy felt wrapped around your cock.[/i]

And now he’s suddenly back in your life. He’s older, bigger, and wilder, but it’s definitely him. He’s grown out his hair and put on some bulk. He’s really glowed up, and the tightness in your chest and the stirring in your loins confirms that you’re just as attracted to him as you were when you were cubs. Even after everything he did, there’s a part of you that wants to ingratiate yourself, and hope for another round with the best pussy you’ve ever felt. 

But he’s not the only one who’s changed. You haven’t been skipping the gym either. You’re still short, but now you’re stocky, and it’s a bit harder to push you around. Maybe this time you assert yourself.

Ripley can see your inner turmoil, because he leans in and examines you more closely. “Hey, you look familiar. Do you come here often?”

Maybe this is a brand new start, if you can suppress your urge to open up to him and reveal who you really are. Ripley never respected you before, but maybe he’ll respect the new you.

You muster up all your self confidence and ignore how fast your heart is beating right now. Time to be bold. You open your mouth to say something cool, but what comes out is, “Yeah, probably.”

You berate yourself. Yeah, probably? Real smooth moves, hotshot. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s like you want him to think you’re a wimp or something.

He finishes toweling off and throws the towel back at you. It reeks of his heat now, just like everything else in this cramped room. You’re trapped in a steamy pressure cooker with a sexy dom, and you hate how much you love it. “I’m gonna hit the gym. Spot me?” he tells you, and you can’t tell if it’s a request or an order. They way he walks all over you and acts entitled to your loyalty makes you… well, it makes you really horny, if you’re being honest.

You want this badly. But if you show your eagerness, how do you stop him from taking advantage of you again? You could just say no, but the truth is, you [i]do[/i] want to spot him. It’s not being pushed around if you already want to do it, right? Friends spot each other all the time. It makes them peers, equals.

You follow him out of the steam room and down the hall to the gym. As you turn a corner, Ripley grabs your cock, pulling on it like a leash to make sure you follow him. Most of you stays calm, but your cock bounces in his grasp, craving his attention.

Nudism rules apply to the whole building, so everyone you pass can see your bare bodies, and your eager erection. The whole room reeks of body odor. You pass a slender fox on a treadmill, his junk bouncing with each stride. You pass a middle-aged mare lifting weights, sweat from her thick ass soaking into her seat. You pass a polar bear working a punching bag, his burly arms and legs a lethal blend of fat and muscle. All of them watch you be led into the room by your cock. Ripley doesn’t even acknowledge that everyone can see his naked body. You try to act unbothered too, but your heart is pounding, and your throbs under the weight of so many pairs of eyes.

Ripley stops at the leg press machine and gets on it. You help him set the weights, then step back and spot him, which also gives you the chance to admire his body. His pecs are sturdy, and his nipples poke out from his smooth coat in pairs running down his belly. His thighs are thick and toned. He must work out a lot, especially his legs. You wonder if he bikes or runs. Either way, he could probably crush your head between his thighs, and the image that invades your mind is not entirely unwelcome.

As he draws back his legs the motion spreads his labia, which are noticeably more developed than when you were cubs. You wonder how they would feel in your mouth.

He catches you staring. “You like what you see?” he teases you.

Of course you do. But you need to play it cool. “Not bad,” you tell him.

You assist Ripley through the rest of his workout routine. At no point does he offer to spot or assist you, but to be fair, at no point do you work up the courage to ask him either. You’re just helping out a peer, that’s all.

You both head to a more open space to do cooldown stretches. You’re helping him press his knee into his chest when you get a little too close to him, and your cockhead brushes against his inner thigh. You look at him apologetically, but he only grins.

“You know, I work out my kegels too. Want to feel?” He’s clearly enjoying showing off his body, and now he wants to show off the insides as well as the outsides. You know you’re giving him what he wants by playing along… but you want this too. You stick a finger between his folds, and you feel his walls clench around you. He may be bigger, but he’s still tight. 

“Not your finger, doofus.” He reaches down and grabs your cock, slapping it against his mound. “Feel it with [i]this.[/i]”

Honestly, you’d love to. But there’s people around. Ripley would never let you fuck him with people around before, and you probably wouldn’t have said yes regardless. It was always supposed to be your little secret. But growing up has made him more confident… what about you? Are you still the same nervous kid you were twelve years ago, or can you keep up with all-new, all-grown-up Ripley?

“But, there’s people watching...” you mutter. “They’ll see.”

“So? That just makes it hotter. Stop thinking so much about it and just put it in already!”

All it takes is him telling you to turn your brain off, and it’s off. Once again, you fail to resist a direct order from Ripley. The tip of your cock tastes his wetness, and there’s no going back after that. Aided by your position on top of him, you bear your weight down, sliding into him.

As soon as you bottom out, he flexes and you can feel his kegel muscles squeezing around your cock. He really wasn’t lying about training them. You’re not even moving in him and it feels as good as a full rut. He could probably bring you to orgasm like this, without any work on your part… but what would that say about you? You want to prove that you’re not just following orders, that you can take control. 

So you take control. You use one hand to keep his knee pressed into his chest, and the other to hold his other leg down. And just like that, you’re fucking again. But it’s not because he told you to. You’re doing this because [i]you[/i] want to. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

He’s as good as you remember. Better, even. His body is sucking you in, and you’re tempted to get lost in the pleasure. But right now your goal isn’t to enjoy this. It’s to prove that you can give as well as you take. You’re determined to make him cum.

You tap into the strength that you never had as a cub to really give it to him. Your balls slap against his thighs. The noise is enough to get the attention of everyone else in the room, and the fox and the bear wander over.

“Hey Ripley! Looks like you made a new friend!” The bear squats down so he’s not towering over both of you, and his hand works his half-erect cock.

“Not a new friend,” says Ripley. “An old friend.” Ripley’s body lurches each time you pound him. He closes his eyes and lets you take control. “Oh fuck,” he breathes. He places his hand on your cheek and presses his forehead to yours. You’re too focused on rutting him to react much, but you can feel his hot breath on your face. “I missed you so much…” he mutters.

So he [i]does[/i]] recognize you. “You remember me after all,” you say. Deep down, you hoped that he would. You liked to think you had a special connection with him, that he hadn’t just gone off and replaced you with a string of other flings.

“Of course I remember you, dingus,” he tells you. “How could I forget? You were my first. Nothing ever made me cum as good as your dick.” He leans forward so he can kiss you on the lips. In all your time together as cubs, you’d never kissed him. You aggressively return the kiss, fucking him even harder.

“Your first?” The fox titters with delight. “Wait, this is the guy? The sperm donor? Ripley never shuts up about you, man!”

You don’t know how to feel about that. You’re glad he remembered you, but it sounds like everyone here already knows your most intimate moments. And then there’s the nickname that they apparently have for you. [i]The Sperm Donor?[/i] How demeaning. 

The bear rubs his enormous fingers on your ear. “Ripley says you’re like a total slut, man. You'll do anything.” He slaps his cock playfully against your cheek.

Oh no. This is not how you’re going to convince them not to push you around… so why does it excite you so much? “That’s not true…” you mutter.

“Yeah it is…” says Ripley. His whole body is relaxed, like otter-shaped putty. “He’s [i]so[/i] good too. He never says no.”

The fox gets on his knees behind you and lifts your tail. You feel his rocket prod your anus. “So it’s fine if I take his ass, right?” He asks. He’s notably talking to the room, not to you.

“Go for it!” Ripley answers for you.

This is your moment to speak up for yourself. To tell the fox off. But you don’t. It wouldn’t make Ripley happy. And seeing him happy is the most important thing in the world for you right now.

The fox cock pops inside you, filling your rear. You’re not an anal virgin, having fooled around with your fair share of guys in college. But it’s been a while since you last stretched your hole. You’re going to be feeling this in the morning for sure.

You keep rutting, and the fox just holds still, letting you pull off his cock every time you thrust into Ripley beneath you. On your backswing, you press against his cock and it sinks back into you. Just when he’s about to bottom out in you he suddenly bucks his hips forward, his thighs slapping against yours and knocking you back into Ripley. Then the process starts over again.

The bear stands over you, tapping your forehead with his dick. You open your mouth, prepared to give some oral action. But instead, a stream of piss begins flowing from his dick, spraying all over your forehead and snout, only some of it landing in your mouth. “That’s right, drink it,” the bear orders. You shudder and do your best to obey, licking the warm piss from your lips and swallowing it.

Back when you were in school, you’d always wondered what would happen if you got caught having sex with Ripley. You knew that most likely you’d get suspended. But there was always a part of your imagination that conjured up scenarios where whoever caught you would join you instead. In exchange for their silence, you’d bring them into the fold, make it your job to please more than just Ripley. It never happened, but for years after the fact you’d jerk off to daydreams of what might have been.

You imagine it would have been something like this. You’re having all your orifices freely used, two of them by people whose names you don’t even know. Everyone can see how slutty you are. But at the center of the action is Ripley, your anchor, your friend… your love. He won’t let you be hurt for real, because somewhere deep down he cares about you. Your relationship may have started because you were an easy target, but somewhere along the line he opened up to you and let you make him vulnerable. You became more than just an easy mark, you’re sure of it.

You’re seized by a desire to claim Ripley now, as your mate and lover. You put all your weight against Ripley, pin him down, and bottom out inside him. Your thighs press into his and his fluid splashes against your legs. Claiming Ripley will be your triumph, proof that you’re not just his toy. You feel your balls tighten against your groin.

The fox notices, because he takes your nuts in his paw. “Hey, I think the little dude’s about to nut!”

“Oh, really?” The bear finishes feeding you his piss, and blots his cockhead against your upper lips. “Cute~. Fill him up, little man.”

“Give it to me,” Ripley pleads. “I’m so close…” He hooks his leg around you to hold you close and kisses you again.

Your fiery act of independence is immediately torn down by their encouragement, but the part of you that only wants to please revels in it. You tremble as the dam breaks and you fill Ripley up. You hear Ripley gasp, and his cunt squeezes around your cock, milking it for its seed. The fox’s paw clutches your balls, feeling them pulse as you unload.

Ripley huffs right into your mouth as you come down from your highs together. For a moment his eyes are soft, kind. Then he shoves you back, and you pop out of him, wet suction noises coming from where your bodies connect. “Come on man, don’t [i]actually[/i] give it to me. Heat, remember?” He pokes his mound, watching your seed ooze out. “Damn, I forgot how much you make. You better not have put another cub in me…”

Wait… another?

Before you can fully come to terms with this, the bear grabs you and pulls you into, well, a bear hug. “Welcome to the family,” he tells you.

Your fears and anxieties melt away. This is where you belong.