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"writing": "[b][u][center]The Hacker’s False Parole\nKink-Tober 12: Prison Sex\nFor Arkto\nBy Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFern bit his lip as the robot continued tattooing his ass and soles. The soft prick-prick of the needle was barely noticeable, really, but it was the noise that made it worse than it was. As it clicked away like an angry secretary trying to break a pen, he could imagine the needles going in and out of his ass cheeks and the bottoms of his feet. He didn’t want to think about that, so he lowered his head to the padded table and just endured it. \n\n[i]It’ll be worth it,[/i] the squirrel thought. [i]Once I get marked as a Free-Use prisoner, that means free movement, too. I can get out of here in no time, no problem.[/i]\n\nThe spherical drone hummed behind him, its pincer grippers tight around his ankles as the needles danced down from the center of his foot, just over the arch, toward the ball of his foot. He didn’t know why they needed to tattoo his feet as well as his ass and his chest, but – \n\n“Mmmph…”\n\nBarely resisting the urge to curl his toes as the needles started to leave behind something almost…pleasurable, Fern ground his muzzle against the table and forced his attention on his tail and staying still. If he squirmed and the tattoo got fucked up, they’d have to start all over again, and who knew if the prison admins would approve him a second time. After all, the only reason he’d gotten it accepted this time was through a lucky break in the prison library computer system. \n\nHe didn’t know who had been stupid enough to let a hacker like him have unsupervised access to a computer, but he didn’t want to be in their shoes if that ever came out. \n\nBreathing. In, out, in, out, focusing on that rather than the heat that followed the needles across his ass and feet. Felt like some sort of target on his rump, honestly, like someone had painted a string of words like a bullseye leading right down to his pucker. Fern clenched his teeth and put it out of his mind. \n\n[i]It’s fine. It’s fine. Temporary. You can get those burned out when you break out.[/i]\n\nIt was all part of his plan, after all. And he’d only had one plan go bad in his entire career, so he felt like the odds were in his favor. \n\nAdmittedly, that plan was the one that got him sent to jail in the first place. He was good at what he did, but that last job, he’d bitten off more than he could chew. The corporation should have had a weak-ass security system compared to the other places he’d jacked into, but this one must have outsourced it, getting it from someone that knew what they were doing. \n\nThe next thing he knew, he’d been brought up before a judge, sentenced to twenty years in prison, and then sent to the slammer. \n\n[i]That’s all going to change, though. Now that they’ve got this done…[/i]\n\nThe drone beeped and the clicking stopped. Fern groaned, shaking his head as the pincers let go of him. \n\n“[i]The prisoner will sit up.[/i]”\n\nHe groaned as he acknowledged the intercom’s order, slowly pulling himself upright. He didn’t ‘sit’ on the table – his ass was a little too sore for that – but he was able to lean on his thighs, making sure that he was upright. The steel walls and the cameras on each came into focus again, at least one of them focusing in on his ass and the tattoos on it. \n\nHe wondered if they looked as big as they felt. It was a little embarrassing to be completely naked like this – he’d never gone around with his ass hanging out or his cock dangling for all to see, after all – but it had to be worth it. It had to be. \n\nThe one door in and out of the room opened with a hydraulic hiss. Fern slowly turned his head toward it, watching as the drone – a three-foot sphere with dark stripes along its blue-steel frame – floated toward the Doberman that walked into the room. The guard, dressed in the usual deep blue of the other officials of the prison, tapped the doorframe and leaned against the door after it shut again. \n\n“Well, well. So, the hacker got approved,” the guard said, shaking his head. “Didn’t think I’d see the day that someone like you would be in this program.”\n\n“Yeah, yeah, well, maybe I wanna make good,” Fern said, shaking his head. “Ever think of that?”\n\n“Never.”\n\n“You have a limited imagination, then,” he said, slowly extending one foot and touching it to the ground; no pain. “Can I stand?”\n\n“Go ahead.”\n\nThe squirrel nodded, putting one foot, then the other on the ground. Both soles were a little on the tender side, but he didn’t feel any surging agony or anything like that. Meant that he could walk, at least. \n\nAs he shuffled from foot to sensitive foot, he was all too aware of the guard looking him up and down. His cheeks burned as he looked away, trying not to acknowledge it. \n\n[i]What did you expect? You’re naked. That’s going to happen. You gotta get used to it. That was part of the plan, right? Get into the program, get all the privileges, get out.[/i]\n\nYes, but there was a huge difference between imagining being stared at and actually having those eyes on him. He wanted to turn around, but that’d just show off his ass, but if he turned to face the Doberman, that’d put his package on display, and – well, suffice to say, he was small there even for a squirrel. He had to be satisfied by keeping himself in profile, his long, fluffy tail pulled around and slightly covering his groin. \n\n“So, let’s get greetings outta the way. You’re Fern, here on charges of theft, industrial espionage, and general corporate fuckery,” the Doberman said. “That about right?”\n\n“More or less,” he admitted with a shrug. \n\n“Heh, good. I’m Roth, and I’m the guard that runs your particular branch of the Free-Use program. You and I are going to be seeing each other a lot. More than the other inmates will, that’s for fucking sure.”\n\n“Mmmph.”\n\n“Turn around for me again. I wanna see that fat ass properly.”\n\n“I –”\n\n“Free-Use, prisoner. Remember that. Now, turn.”\n\nThe squirrel clenched his hands at his side before forcing a smile. Giving an ‘as-you-wish’ nod, he slowly turned in place. Each little turn made him all the more aware of his nudity; the air conditioning was blowing through his fur all too effectively, chilling him from head to toe except where the tattoos still burned. He shivered as he turned his back to the guard – \n\n“Tail up, prisoner.”\n\n“Mmmph…”\n\nForcing the long, fluffy thing out of the way, he tried not to think about how he had to look. Even though he was taller than the average squirrel height, life as a hacker hadn’t exactly kept him fit and trim. He had a bit of chub going on, enough to give him a soft stomach and a larger than usual ass. The fact that genetics had ‘blessed’ him with wider hips didn’t make him any more manly, either particularly from behind. \n\n“Heheh, that’s a good fat-ass. Keep turning. All the way ‘round.”\n\nFern followed orders, slowly turning in place. His cheeks ground against each other as he did, eventually facing the officer head-on. The Doberman’s eyes dropped down to his crotch and Roth laughed. \n\n“Fucking hell, I knew squirrels were tiny, but that’s just disappointing.”\n\n“Sorry that I don’t got enough for your size-queen standards,” Fern muttered with burning cheeks. \n\n“Heh, don’t apologize to me. Just thinking of how that little clit of a dick is going to get everyone all the more eager to fuck your ass. You already look like a bitch from behind; without something meaty in front, there’s no way that anyone’s going to be put off.”\n\n“Look. I get that I’m Free-Use, but this –”\n\n“Kid, I ain’t even close to done. You signed up for this, you know what it’s gonna mean.”\n\n“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” the squirrel said, shaking his head. “But you don’t have to keep pushing it.”\n\n“Have to?” Roth smirked. “Oh, kid. You don’t even get it, do you?”\n\nBefore Fern could protest, the Doberman made it from the door to the squirrel in just two steps. A hand on his shoulder spun him about and bent him over the table before he realized what was going on, and he yelped as the guard’s other hand went right under his tail. \n\n“Gah!”\n\n“Here’s the deal, kid. You’re a Free-Use prisoner now. Heh. You might think that means that you get all kinds of goodies that the other cons don’t. Free movement through the prison, free snacks, the chance to get to the library whenever you want, and even a chance at much, much earlier parole. That’s probably the whole reason that you signed up, right?” \n\n“…”\n\n“Heh, I know I’m right. You got the ass of a slut, but feeling that pucker of yours –”\n\n“Mmmph!”\n\nFern bit his lips as the guard’s gloved finger rubbed around his hole. Some of the tattoo had gone right over his rim, barely avoiding going inside of him, and it was still so hot and sensitive down there. \n\n“Heh, yeah, I can feel that. Ain’t that practiced, is it? And I bet you haven’t sucked much dick, either.”\n\n“Maybe I’m straight.”\n\n“Heh, if you are, then you just put yourself into hell. Because here’s the deal, kid. You get all that shit, sure. But to get it, you signed your body over to the prison. Any guard, any inmate can use you however they like. Long as they ain’t sending you to the infirmary, they can get as rough or as raunchy as they like. See, your body doesn’t belong to you no more. It belongs to the prison, and we’re renting it out to the other prisoners.”\n\nThat…wasn’t exactly something he hadn’t known, but hearing it said was a whole different beast. Fern shivered as the guard’s finger traced a line along his hole, almost sliding inside more than once, and always, always rubbing right over the heated tattoo spots. He shivered every time that he felt a new touch down there, trying not to think too hard about how tight he actually was. \n\n“The other prisoners are gonna see those tattoos and they’re gonna do what anyone would do when they see a bitch they can use consequence-free. They’re gonna use him. Or, heh, use you.”\n\n“…Are you…”\n\n“Not yet. I had my fun earlier. But we’re gonna get you ready so that you ain’t getting sent to the infirmary too soon.”\n\nLetting him go, Roth held out his hand to the drone. Fern took the slight reprise to catch his breath, a little shiver running down his spine. For all that this was still part of the plan, he felt [i]so[/i] much more vulnerable in this position than he had before. The idea that he might actually be…\n\n[i]Fuck…fuck, I might not have –[/i]\n\n“Tail up, prisoner. We gotta get that thing stretched out.”\n\nHe had to keep to the plan. Long as he worked fast, he’d be fine. Fern pulled his tail up, leaning against the table – \n\nSquirt. Squelch. Lube – and a lot of it – splashed against his cheeks and around his hole. He groaned, biting his lips at the slippery, slimy, almost nasty feeling of his cheeks being completely slimed up. It was like someone had already fucked him and all the mess was gradually coming out from between his cheeks. He clenched them together and immediately regretted it; it only spread the slime around further. \n\n“Come on, stop fighting it. Here we go.”\n\nSomething hard – a butt-plug, he realized – was grinding against his hole. If Roth’s gloved finger had set off heated shivers, this was like ice trying to go in. It soothed the burning, yes, but – oh fuck it was cold. He bit his lips and barely resisted going up on his tiptoes, forcing himself to stay as still as possible as the cool metal kept nudging, pushing, and nudging again against his pucker. \n\nA little bit in, then right back out. The soft stretch was…oddly pleasurable in a way that he hadn’t expected. He shook his head; no, don’t think about that. Better to – \n\nFurther, and he gasped as it went over his prostate. Just enough to nudge it, grind on it, then it was gone again. His cock twitched in response. \n\n“What…I…what…”\n\n“Heh, we ain’t assholes, kid. The tats make sure that all the stuff you get feels fucking great. Makes it so you ain’t suffering too much.”\n\n“…What?”\n\n“Yeah. Makes your prostate about four times as sensitive to pleasure, and it starts spreading over time.”\n\n“Oh go-OOOOOD!”\n\nThe plug felt like it just [i]fell[/i] into him, sinking into his stomach and rolling onto his prostate. He didn’t know that could happen. He didn’t even know if it had happened; it just felt like it went from barely in to actually sinking in and his hole clenching around the base and the weight of the plug rubbing right on his prostate and –\n\nFern whimpered as he ground his muzzle into his hands. His cock had gone from half-hard to completely erect in the space of a few seconds, and it was dribbling between his thighs as he kept clenching on instinct. His hole just wouldn’t stop; he wanted to relax, to stop squeezing down, but – \n\n“Mmmph – mmmph!”\n\n“Heh, I love seeing bitches learn how good it feels,” Roth muttered. \n\n“F-fuck…”\n\n“Heh, ain’t it a mercy, kid? If we didn’t tattoo this shit on you, you’d be screaming and whimpering and saying how it fucking hurts and for us to slow down…but with the tattoos, all you feel is how fucking good it feels, don’t you?”\n\n“Nnngh…T-take it out, please…”\n\n“Nah. My ‘Free-Use’ is to see you walk out with that in. And trust me, even with the tats, you’re going to want the training. It ain’t gonna be easy for you to take the bigger inmates, lemme tell ya.”\n\nThe thought of horses or bigger just ramming their cocks in was enough to make him swallow his shame and go with it. Just…had to deal with it for a while. Then he’d figure out how to break out and – \n\n“Stand up, kid.”\n\nFern took a deep breath and did it. As soon as his spine was straight again, he felt the plug rubbing right against his prostate. He tried taking a step and it felt like the plug was trying to fuck him, sliding in, back, up, down, always putting some kind of pressure on that little button. His cock danced in front of him, spitting pre-cum every few steps. Roth chuckled. \n\n“That’s what we wanna see.”\n\n“Mmmph…please…please tell me I get used to this. Eventually.”\n\n“Some do.”\n\n“…”\n\n“Now, get back to your cell. Walk of shame, kid; you can do what you want after that.”\n\nFern nodded, slowly making his way to the door. He was halfway there – and just barely learning to keep the whimpers behind his teeth – when Roth whistled. \n\n“What now?” he muttered. \n\n“Almost forgot. One more thing.” The Doberman gestured at the drone beside him. “This one is assigned to you. It’ll record any bit of sex you get for us to enjoy.”\n\n“…Isn’t just using me enough?”\n\n“Heh, for some. Not for all.”\n\n“Fine.”\n\nThe spherical drone fell in behind him, hovering five feet back with a camera lens pointed right at his ass. He kept his eyes on the floor in front of him and focused on walking and keeping his moans inside. \n\nIt was going to take a while to get used to this. \n\n#\n\n[i]Two weeks into the program…[/i]\n\nFern was…mostly used to the plug, now. He still didn’t like it inside of him, and he still felt more pleasure from it than he felt was entirely fair, but at least he wasn’t [i]shooting[/i] pre-cum every few steps anymore. \n\nWhat he still wasn’t used to was the fact that he wasn’t allowed a single stitch of clothing. \n\n[i]Mmmph…I thought I’d at least be allowed underwear,[/i] he thought as he walked between the cells. The long hallway loomed ahead of him with a new pair of cells every eight feet, and – \n\n“Hehehe, look at that fat ass, kid.”\n\n“Think he’d look good bouncing on my dick?”\n\n“He’s still got his training plug in. What a wuss. He’s been wearing it for how long now?”\n\n“Two weeks, but he’s still dripping. Bet you he’s having wet dreams all the time now.”\n\n“Hey, kid, you dreaming of our dicks? Or you thinking of kneeling down for a face-fuck?”\n\nThe [i]one[/i] mercy of the Free-Use program was that the prisoners had to actually tell him to bend over or make him do it for it to count. Teasing didn’t mean a damn thing. \n\nOr it shouldn’t have…but it did. His cock still twitched and his cheeks still burned as he felt their eyes tracing the curve of his ass and the disappointing heft of his cock. He wished that he had more of an erection to show off, but when some of the inmates were pulling down their zipper and fishing their cocks out as he walked by – sporting anywhere from seven to ten inches – he could only whimper and look on. His cock was smaller than theirs by at least three inches, often more. \n\nBut…so far, it was working. \n\nFern knew the patrol routes now, knew the placement of all the cameras in the hall, and which ones were dead and which ones were active. He knew how long the power cycles went between the different wings of the prison, and where the guards liked to pass time at night. \n\nSo far, the humiliation of being marked, naked, and plugged was working out for him. All he had to do was – \n\n“Hey, fluff-butt. Get your ass over here.”\n\nFern stopped dead in his tracks. One of them had finally done it. \n\nThe squirrel turned his head to the source of the command. It was a rat, one that was wearing his orange jumpsuit peeled down to his waist. Instead of groping himself, he was leaning against the bars, his boner thrust between them but covered by the suit. He looked Fern over a few times, his eyes dropping down, down, down – \n\n“Get your ass over here, kid. And put those feet through the bars.”\n\n“My…feet?” Fern asked. \n\n“Did I stutter?”\n\n“No.”\n\n“That’s no-sir, kid.”\n\n“No, sir.”\n\nHe turned on his heel and marched across the way to the rat. The rodent was a big, bulky sort of male, a little shorter than him but much broader across the shoulders. Thick arms, too, with long claws on the ends of his fingers. In short, he looked like a thug that would rip someone’s face off on the street, and that was enough to put the willies in his stomach. \n\n[i]Just indulge him. He’s just asking for your feet. Nothing wrong with that. Easier than your ass, too.[/i]\n\nThe squirrel sat down and slowly edged his feet between the bars. No sooner had he gotten them past the metal bars than the rat grabbed them and pulled. \n\n“Gah!”\n\nFern came to a sudden stop with his legs most of the way through the bars and his cock pressed firmly against the steel rod going from floor to ceiling. He gasped at the unwilling frotting going on, only to bite his lips when the rat pulled one foot to his lips and licked the underside – \n\n“Mmmph!”\n\nHis cock jumped almost immediately, throbbing the way that it had been doing for the plug up his ass. The tattoos – they must have made his feet just as sensitive as his hole. \n\n“Hehehe, I love bitches like you,” the rat said, squeezing Fern’s feet together at the ankles. “Soft soles, tattooed bitch-feet like yours? They’re perfect for the sort of shit that I think up.”\n\n“Mmmph…and what…what are you thinking up?” he muttered. \n\n“Footjob today. Foot-fucking another. I wanna hear your feet squishing and squelching with the jizz I leave on ‘em. And no washing ‘em off, either. Not until someone else washes ‘em off with their cum or some shit.”\n\nSquishing cum between his toes all day was…humiliating, but it could be worse. At least, that was what he tried to tell himself as the rat held him tight, his feet pushed together and his arches forming a makeshift hole for the rat’s cock. He couldn’t move, not while the other prisoner held his feet so tightly, and the rodent kept pulling back, grinding Fern’s cock and balls against the cell bar. \n\nIt was uncomfortable, embarrassing, and surprisingly erotic all at the same time. The eyes of all the other prisoners on him made it worse – and hotter – and some of them were jerking off to the show. \n\n“Heh, time to enjoy myself…”\n\nThe rat finally had his cock out. Eight inches, circumcised, and very wet at the tip. He tapped it against Fern’s soles a few times – each little tap feeling like something grinding at his prostate in terms of pleasure – before thrusting between his arches. \n\nFern arched his back in response, gasping. \n\n“Hehehe, look at you. Fucking foot-slut fucker. Push ‘em together, Free-Use boy. Make it tight for me.”\n\nNot sure if he had a choice, he did exactly what he was told, pulling his feet together and keeping the arches as tight to one another as he could. The rat just kept humping away, fucking the space between them and – and it felt good. It felt like the nerves in his feet had been completely rewired somehow, forcing him to feel like – like he was actually getting fucked somehow, the heat going from his soles right up to his head and down to his dick. \n\nHis cock twitched and he panted for breath as the space between his arches were fucked. Each thrust made his head roll back, his breath coming faster and shorter. He moaned, whimpering, his toes curling and his ass clenching against the plug – \n\n“Mmmph…mmmph!”\n\nFern came while the foot-fuck was still going on. His cock jumped and squirted against his belly, spraying white lines along his stomach and all the way up to his nipples. Every little spurt was accompanied by a tense squeeze, his toes curling tighter, his feet pressing more tightly together. He could feel every vein along the rat’s cock, could feel every inch of it between his feet. \n\nFuck. \n\nFuck. \n\nFuck. \n\nIt didn’t last long after that; the rat came quickly, spraying his seed all over the squirrel’s tattooed soles. Fern shivered as the rodent let him go, lunging to his feet as fast as he could. The soft squish-squish of the slime underfoot was a reminder of what had just happened and how he would be carrying that for a while. \n\n“Hehehe, good little foot-slut,” the rat said. “I’ll be seeing you again soon.”\n\nFern shivered, hustling along before someone else could call him over. The drone followed behind him, still streaming the show to whoever happened to be watching. Roth, probably. \n\n#\n\n[i]Four weeks into the program…[/i]\n\nThe plug had been removed, though only a week ago. Fern was waiting for someone to take advantage of it, and he kept telling himself that he didn’t want them to. He’d realized that morning that telling himself that was something of a lie. \n\nThe squirrel groaned as he leaned over the library desk, staring at the computer screen and trying to focus his thoughts. It had only been four weeks, but in those four weeks, he’d had his feet fucked – repeatedly – and been made to learn how to deepthroat more cocks than he wanted to think about. The guards and the prisoners both looked at him like little more than a free hole to use, and it didn’t matter what he happened to be doing at the time. If they saw him and started getting turned on – which seemed like it would always happen, considering he was always naked – they were going to pile on and use him. \n\nHe rubbed his forehead, trying to think clearly as he looked at the computer screen. He’d made a few hundred notes about weak points in the prison, from windows that were often kept propped open to shipments of supplies that were usually two-way, from the guards that wanted to skive off on their duties to those that were impossible to bribe. There were hundreds of little details that would make for the start of a good escape plan. \n\nIf only he could focus. \n\nHis cock was leaking almost non-stop these days. Even now, the little thing was oozing even though it was soft, dripping on his balls and on the padded bit of the chair. The squirrel shifted from one cheek to the other, almost missing the heavy weight of the plug inside of him. That had been an easy way to cum if he needed to, but now his ass was empty. Stretched, yes, and practiced – Roth had made it very clear that Fern’s hole was going to be fucked soon, now that he had spent three weeks with a plug inside – but empty. \n\nSo. \n\nVery. \n\nEmpty. \n\n[i]Mmmph…focus…focus…[/i]\n\nHe rubbed his eyes again, trying to think through what he could do with the information he’d gathered. Yet, every time that he thought of a guard that might be of use, some part of him started thinking of kneeling in front of them instead, of feeling their balls on his muzzle and their cocks down his throat. He started thinking of the prisoners – the rat, and others – dragging him along by the ankle and fucking his feet. \n\nAnd he started thinking of other things, things that he’d never tried. Things that’d mean lifting his tail and…and…\n\n“Mmmph…”\n\nThe squirrel leaned forward, head in hands, as his imagination ran wild with things that he’d never done. His tail high, his cheeks spread, and a [i]cock[/i] inside of him instead of just a plug.\n\nFern had [i]never[/i] allowed someone else to penetrate him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure that he wanted that, or that it would feel good, or if he was ready for it, but at the same time, the fucking fantasies were running wild through his head. The concept of being railed hit him harder than fucking someone else ever had, and [i]fuck[/i] if it wasn’t riling him up and making him think of how it would feel to be passed between the prisoners like that. \n\n[i]It wasn’t supposed to be this way,[/i] he thought, rubbing his forehead. [i]This was supposed to be a cover, a dodge. Why…why can’t I stop thinking of –[/i]\n\n“Well, well, well. So this is where the latest Free-Use slut has been hiding.”\n\nFern sat up straight in his chair, but too late. A pair of furred hands rested on his shoulder, holding him down and keeping him from getting up. The dull rumble of a faint purr filled his ears, and he shivered as he felt the body-heat of someone else pressing against the back of his head.\n\n“Hiding in the library. Trying to keep your ass from becoming public goods? Tsk, tsk.”\n\n“I – I –”\n\n“No need to fret…”\n\nOne of the hands left his shoulder, stroking along his face instead. The squirrel saw the orange fur, the white underside, the black stripes – tiger. The feline flexed his fingers, showing the claws between. \n\n“I’ve been looking forward to this. Lean forward now, that’s a good little squirrel.”\n\n[i]Oh god…[/i]\n\nDespite all the ‘training’ that the plug had put him through, he didn’t know if he was ready for this. Yet, all the things that had been done to him – \n\nHe didn’t even realize that he’d leaned forward, nor that the chair had been moved out of the way until the tiger’s large hand rested under his tail. A finger on each cheek, two helping spread them, and the last – \n\n“Mmmmmmmph…”\n\nHe whimpered under his breath as he was split and filled all at once. Just one finger, but it was a fat one, rubbing against his prostate like it was a pleasure-seeking weapon. He arched his back despite himself, shaking his head as his inexperienced hole clenched down again, and again, and again, milking the digit opening him up. \n\n“Mmm, looks like you already know what to do.”\n\n“Nnngh…It’s…it’s the first…”\n\n“First time? Heh. It won’t be the last with a hole as slutty as yours. It knows what it wants. You should listen to it.”\n\nThat was what he [i]didn’t[/i] want to do, considering it was getting louder and louder about what [i]it[/i] wanted instead of what he should be doing, but he didn’t have a choice. As that finger worked in, out, in, out, he slumped further and further over. By the time his chest hit the desk, his tail was so high that there was no hiding his ass. \n\n“There we are. Relax.”\n\nThe tiger’s cock flopped over his cheeks. Fern knew that he had to do something, anything to take some kind of control, but his brain was fried. The pure pleasure of that finger sliding out and leaving him all warmed up with nowhere to go had stripped his annoyance away. He needed something, anything, to stretch him again. \n\nThe heated cock head nudged his hole. The hacker moaned, closing his eyes as the tiger leaned over him. \n\n“This is where you belong.”\n\n[i]This is what you need.[/i]\n\nThe tiger’s words and his body’s desires blended together, creating something that he could no longer ignore. Fern just hoped that he’d come through the other side with something of his old plan, because for right now – \n\n“Ah!”\n\nThe tip popped in, and he couldn’t think of anything else but [i]dick.[/i]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]\n\nSummary: Kink-Tober the 12th – finally back on track – and we get to some prison sex. I hope you enjoy the idea of this Free-Use category. \n\nTags: M/M, M/solo, Tattoo, Prison, Prison Sex, Kink-Tober, Kinktober, Squirrel, Doberman, Rat, Tiger, Anal, Foot Fetish, Foot Fucking, Sensitive, Foot-Gasm, Anal, Anal Sex, Fingering, Cum, Orgasm, Public, Nudity, Forced Nudity, Butt Plug, \n",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "
The Hacker’s False Parole Kink-Tober 12: Prison Sex For Arkto By Draconicon
Fern bit his lip as the robot continued tattooing his ass and soles. The soft prick-prick of the needle was barely noticeable, really, but it was the noise that made it worse than it was. As it clicked away like an angry secretary trying to break a pen, he could imagine the needles going in and out of his ass cheeks and the bottoms of his feet. He didn’t want to think about that, so he lowered his head to the padded table and just endured it.
It’ll be worth it, the squirrel thought. Once I get marked as a Free-Use prisoner, that means free movement, too. I can get out of here in no time, no problem.
The spherical drone hummed behind him, its pincer grippers tight around his ankles as the needles danced down from the center of his foot, just over the arch, toward the ball of his foot. He didn’t know why they needed to tattoo his feet as well as his ass and his chest, but –
“Mmmph…”
Barely resisting the urge to curl his toes as the needles started to leave behind something almost…pleasurable, Fern ground his muzzle against the table and forced his attention on his tail and staying still. If he squirmed and the tattoo got fucked up, they’d have to start all over again, and who knew if the prison admins would approve him a second time. After all, the only reason he’d gotten it accepted this time was through a lucky break in the prison library computer system.
He didn’t know who had been stupid enough to let a hacker like him have unsupervised access to a computer, but he didn’t want to be in their shoes if that ever came out.
Breathing. In, out, in, out, focusing on that rather than the heat that followed the needles across his ass and feet. Felt like some sort of target on his rump, honestly, like someone had painted a string of words like a bullseye leading right down to his pucker. Fern clenched his teeth and put it out of his mind.
It’s fine. It’s fine. Temporary. You can get those burned out when you break out.
It was all part of his plan, after all. And he’d only had one plan go bad in his entire career, so he felt like the odds were in his favor.
Admittedly, that plan was the one that got him sent to jail in the first place. He was good at what he did, but that last job, he’d bitten off more than he could chew. The corporation should have had a weak-ass security system compared to the other places he’d jacked into, but this one must have outsourced it, getting it from someone that knew what they were doing.
The next thing he knew, he’d been brought up before a judge, sentenced to twenty years in prison, and then sent to the slammer.
That’s all going to change, though. Now that they’ve got this done…
The drone beeped and the clicking stopped. Fern groaned, shaking his head as the pincers let go of him.
“The prisoner will sit up.”
He groaned as he acknowledged the intercom’s order, slowly pulling himself upright. He didn’t ‘sit’ on the table – his ass was a little too sore for that – but he was able to lean on his thighs, making sure that he was upright. The steel walls and the cameras on each came into focus again, at least one of them focusing in on his ass and the tattoos on it.
He wondered if they looked as big as they felt. It was a little embarrassing to be completely naked like this – he’d never gone around with his ass hanging out or his cock dangling for all to see, after all – but it had to be worth it. It had to be.
The one door in and out of the room opened with a hydraulic hiss. Fern slowly turned his head toward it, watching as the drone – a three-foot sphere with dark stripes along its blue-steel frame – floated toward the Doberman that walked into the room. The guard, dressed in the usual deep blue of the other officials of the prison, tapped the doorframe and leaned against the door after it shut again.
“Well, well. So, the hacker got approved,” the guard said, shaking his head. “Didn’t think I’d see the day that someone like you would be in this program.”
“Yeah, yeah, well, maybe I wanna make good,” Fern said, shaking his head. “Ever think of that?”
“Never.”
“You have a limited imagination, then,” he said, slowly extending one foot and touching it to the ground; no pain. “Can I stand?”
“Go ahead.”
The squirrel nodded, putting one foot, then the other on the ground. Both soles were a little on the tender side, but he didn’t feel any surging agony or anything like that. Meant that he could walk, at least.
As he shuffled from foot to sensitive foot, he was all too aware of the guard looking him up and down. His cheeks burned as he looked away, trying not to acknowledge it.
What did you expect? You’re naked. That’s going to happen. You gotta get used to it. That was part of the plan, right? Get into the program, get all the privileges, get out.
Yes, but there was a huge difference between imagining being stared at and actually having those eyes on him. He wanted to turn around, but that’d just show off his ass, but if he turned to face the Doberman, that’d put his package on display, and – well, suffice to say, he was small there even for a squirrel. He had to be satisfied by keeping himself in profile, his long, fluffy tail pulled around and slightly covering his groin.
“So, let’s get greetings outta the way. You’re Fern, here on charges of theft, industrial espionage, and general corporate fuckery,” the Doberman said. “That about right?”
“More or less,” he admitted with a shrug.
“Heh, good. I’m Roth, and I’m the guard that runs your particular branch of the Free-Use program. You and I are going to be seeing each other a lot. More than the other inmates will, that’s for fucking sure.”
“Mmmph.”
“Turn around for me again. I wanna see that fat ass properly.”
“I –”
“Free-Use, prisoner. Remember that. Now, turn.”
The squirrel clenched his hands at his side before forcing a smile. Giving an ‘as-you-wish’ nod, he slowly turned in place. Each little turn made him all the more aware of his nudity; the air conditioning was blowing through his fur all too effectively, chilling him from head to toe except where the tattoos still burned. He shivered as he turned his back to the guard –
“Tail up, prisoner.”
“Mmmph…”
Forcing the long, fluffy thing out of the way, he tried not to think about how he had to look. Even though he was taller than the average squirrel height, life as a hacker hadn’t exactly kept him fit and trim. He had a bit of chub going on, enough to give him a soft stomach and a larger than usual ass. The fact that genetics had ‘blessed’ him with wider hips didn’t make him any more manly, either particularly from behind.
“Heheh, that’s a good fat-ass. Keep turning. All the way ‘round.”
Fern followed orders, slowly turning in place. His cheeks ground against each other as he did, eventually facing the officer head-on. The Doberman’s eyes dropped down to his crotch and Roth laughed.
“Fucking hell, I knew squirrels were tiny, but that’s just disappointing.”
“Sorry that I don’t got enough for your size-queen standards,” Fern muttered with burning cheeks.
“Heh, don’t apologize to me. Just thinking of how that little clit of a dick is going to get everyone all the more eager to fuck your ass. You already look like a bitch from behind; without something meaty in front, there’s no way that anyone’s going to be put off.”
“Look. I get that I’m Free-Use, but this –”
“Kid, I ain’t even close to done. You signed up for this, you know what it’s gonna mean.”
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” the squirrel said, shaking his head. “But you don’t have to keep pushing it.”
“Have to?” Roth smirked. “Oh, kid. You don’t even get it, do you?”
Before Fern could protest, the Doberman made it from the door to the squirrel in just two steps. A hand on his shoulder spun him about and bent him over the table before he realized what was going on, and he yelped as the guard’s other hand went right under his tail.
“Gah!”
“Here’s the deal, kid. You’re a Free-Use prisoner now. Heh. You might think that means that you get all kinds of goodies that the other cons don’t. Free movement through the prison, free snacks, the chance to get to the library whenever you want, and even a chance at much, much earlier parole. That’s probably the whole reason that you signed up, right?”
“…”
“Heh, I know I’m right. You got the ass of a slut, but feeling that pucker of yours –”
“Mmmph!”
Fern bit his lips as the guard’s gloved finger rubbed around his hole. Some of the tattoo had gone right over his rim, barely avoiding going inside of him, and it was still so hot and sensitive down there.
“Heh, yeah, I can feel that. Ain’t that practiced, is it? And I bet you haven’t sucked much dick, either.”
“Maybe I’m straight.”
“Heh, if you are, then you just put yourself into hell. Because here’s the deal, kid. You get all that shit, sure. But to get it, you signed your body over to the prison. Any guard, any inmate can use you however they like. Long as they ain’t sending you to the infirmary, they can get as rough or as raunchy as they like. See, your body doesn’t belong to you no more. It belongs to the prison, and we’re renting it out to the other prisoners.”
That…wasn’t exactly something he hadn’t known, but hearing it said was a whole different beast. Fern shivered as the guard’s finger traced a line along his hole, almost sliding inside more than once, and always, always rubbing right over the heated tattoo spots. He shivered every time that he felt a new touch down there, trying not to think too hard about how tight he actually was.
“The other prisoners are gonna see those tattoos and they’re gonna do what anyone would do when they see a bitch they can use consequence-free. They’re gonna use him. Or, heh, use you.”
“…Are you…”
“Not yet. I had my fun earlier. But we’re gonna get you ready so that you ain’t getting sent to the infirmary too soon.”
Letting him go, Roth held out his hand to the drone. Fern took the slight reprise to catch his breath, a little shiver running down his spine. For all that this was still part of the plan, he felt so much more vulnerable in this position than he had before. The idea that he might actually be…
Fuck…fuck, I might not have –
“Tail up, prisoner. We gotta get that thing stretched out.”
He had to keep to the plan. Long as he worked fast, he’d be fine. Fern pulled his tail up, leaning against the table –
Squirt. Squelch. Lube – and a lot of it – splashed against his cheeks and around his hole. He groaned, biting his lips at the slippery, slimy, almost nasty feeling of his cheeks being completely slimed up. It was like someone had already fucked him and all the mess was gradually coming out from between his cheeks. He clenched them together and immediately regretted it; it only spread the slime around further.
“Come on, stop fighting it. Here we go.”
Something hard – a butt-plug, he realized – was grinding against his hole. If Roth’s gloved finger had set off heated shivers, this was like ice trying to go in. It soothed the burning, yes, but – oh fuck it was cold. He bit his lips and barely resisted going up on his tiptoes, forcing himself to stay as still as possible as the cool metal kept nudging, pushing, and nudging again against his pucker.
A little bit in, then right back out. The soft stretch was…oddly pleasurable in a way that he hadn’t expected. He shook his head; no, don’t think about that. Better to –
Further, and he gasped as it went over his prostate. Just enough to nudge it, grind on it, then it was gone again. His cock twitched in response.
“What…I…what…”
“Heh, we ain’t assholes, kid. The tats make sure that all the stuff you get feels fucking great. Makes it so you ain’t suffering too much.”
“…What?”
“Yeah. Makes your prostate about four times as sensitive to pleasure, and it starts spreading over time.”
“Oh go-OOOOOD!”
The plug felt like it just fell into him, sinking into his stomach and rolling onto his prostate. He didn’t know that could happen. He didn’t even know if it had happened; it just felt like it went from barely in to actually sinking in and his hole clenching around the base and the weight of the plug rubbing right on his prostate and –
Fern whimpered as he ground his muzzle into his hands. His cock had gone from half-hard to completely erect in the space of a few seconds, and it was dribbling between his thighs as he kept clenching on instinct. His hole just wouldn’t stop; he wanted to relax, to stop squeezing down, but –
“Mmmph – mmmph!”
“Heh, I love seeing bitches learn how good it feels,” Roth muttered.
“F-fuck…”
“Heh, ain’t it a mercy, kid? If we didn’t tattoo this shit on you, you’d be screaming and whimpering and saying how it fucking hurts and for us to slow down…but with the tattoos, all you feel is how fucking good it feels, don’t you?”
“Nnngh…T-take it out, please…”
“Nah. My ‘Free-Use’ is to see you walk out with that in. And trust me, even with the tats, you’re going to want the training. It ain’t gonna be easy for you to take the bigger inmates, lemme tell ya.”
The thought of horses or bigger just ramming their cocks in was enough to make him swallow his shame and go with it. Just…had to deal with it for a while. Then he’d figure out how to break out and –
“Stand up, kid.”
Fern took a deep breath and did it. As soon as his spine was straight again, he felt the plug rubbing right against his prostate. He tried taking a step and it felt like the plug was trying to fuck him, sliding in, back, up, down, always putting some kind of pressure on that little button. His cock danced in front of him, spitting pre-cum every few steps. Roth chuckled.
“That’s what we wanna see.”
“Mmmph…please…please tell me I get used to this. Eventually.”
“Some do.”
“…”
“Now, get back to your cell. Walk of shame, kid; you can do what you want after that.”
Fern nodded, slowly making his way to the door. He was halfway there – and just barely learning to keep the whimpers behind his teeth – when Roth whistled.
“What now?” he muttered.
“Almost forgot. One more thing.” The Doberman gestured at the drone beside him. “This one is assigned to you. It’ll record any bit of sex you get for us to enjoy.”
“…Isn’t just using me enough?”
“Heh, for some. Not for all.”
“Fine.”
The spherical drone fell in behind him, hovering five feet back with a camera lens pointed right at his ass. He kept his eyes on the floor in front of him and focused on walking and keeping his moans inside.
It was going to take a while to get used to this.
#
Two weeks into the program…
Fern was…mostly used to the plug, now. He still didn’t like it inside of him, and he still felt more pleasure from it than he felt was entirely fair, but at least he wasn’t shooting pre-cum every few steps anymore.
What he still wasn’t used to was the fact that he wasn’t allowed a single stitch of clothing.
Mmmph…I thought I’d at least be allowed underwear, he thought as he walked between the cells. The long hallway loomed ahead of him with a new pair of cells every eight feet, and –
“Hehehe, look at that fat ass, kid.”
“Think he’d look good bouncing on my dick?”
“He’s still got his training plug in. What a wuss. He’s been wearing it for how long now?”
“Two weeks, but he’s still dripping. Bet you he’s having wet dreams all the time now.”
“Hey, kid, you dreaming of our dicks? Or you thinking of kneeling down for a face-fuck?”
The one mercy of the Free-Use program was that the prisoners had to actually tell him to bend over or make him do it for it to count. Teasing didn’t mean a damn thing.
Or it shouldn’t have…but it did. His cock still twitched and his cheeks still burned as he felt their eyes tracing the curve of his ass and the disappointing heft of his cock. He wished that he had more of an erection to show off, but when some of the inmates were pulling down their zipper and fishing their cocks out as he walked by – sporting anywhere from seven to ten inches – he could only whimper and look on. His cock was smaller than theirs by at least three inches, often more.
But…so far, it was working.
Fern knew the patrol routes now, knew the placement of all the cameras in the hall, and which ones were dead and which ones were active. He knew how long the power cycles went between the different wings of the prison, and where the guards liked to pass time at night.
So far, the humiliation of being marked, naked, and plugged was working out for him. All he had to do was –
“Hey, fluff-butt. Get your ass over here.”
Fern stopped dead in his tracks. One of them had finally done it.
The squirrel turned his head to the source of the command. It was a rat, one that was wearing his orange jumpsuit peeled down to his waist. Instead of groping himself, he was leaning against the bars, his boner thrust between them but covered by the suit. He looked Fern over a few times, his eyes dropping down, down, down –
“Get your ass over here, kid. And put those feet through the bars.”
“My…feet?” Fern asked.
“Did I stutter?”
“No.”
“That’s no-sir, kid.”
“No, sir.”
He turned on his heel and marched across the way to the rat. The rodent was a big, bulky sort of male, a little shorter than him but much broader across the shoulders. Thick arms, too, with long claws on the ends of his fingers. In short, he looked like a thug that would rip someone’s face off on the street, and that was enough to put the willies in his stomach.
Just indulge him. He’s just asking for your feet. Nothing wrong with that. Easier than your ass, too.
The squirrel sat down and slowly edged his feet between the bars. No sooner had he gotten them past the metal bars than the rat grabbed them and pulled.
“Gah!”
Fern came to a sudden stop with his legs most of the way through the bars and his cock pressed firmly against the steel rod going from floor to ceiling. He gasped at the unwilling frotting going on, only to bite his lips when the rat pulled one foot to his lips and licked the underside –
“Mmmph!”
His cock jumped almost immediately, throbbing the way that it had been doing for the plug up his ass. The tattoos – they must have made his feet just as sensitive as his hole.
“Hehehe, I love bitches like you,” the rat said, squeezing Fern’s feet together at the ankles. “Soft soles, tattooed bitch-feet like yours? They’re perfect for the sort of shit that I think up.”
“Mmmph…and what…what are you thinking up?” he muttered.
“Footjob today. Foot-fucking another. I wanna hear your feet squishing and squelching with the jizz I leave on ‘em. And no washing ‘em off, either. Not until someone else washes ‘em off with their cum or some shit.”
Squishing cum between his toes all day was…humiliating, but it could be worse. At least, that was what he tried to tell himself as the rat held him tight, his feet pushed together and his arches forming a makeshift hole for the rat’s cock. He couldn’t move, not while the other prisoner held his feet so tightly, and the rodent kept pulling back, grinding Fern’s cock and balls against the cell bar.
It was uncomfortable, embarrassing, and surprisingly erotic all at the same time. The eyes of all the other prisoners on him made it worse – and hotter – and some of them were jerking off to the show.
“Heh, time to enjoy myself…”
The rat finally had his cock out. Eight inches, circumcised, and very wet at the tip. He tapped it against Fern’s soles a few times – each little tap feeling like something grinding at his prostate in terms of pleasure – before thrusting between his arches.
Fern arched his back in response, gasping.
“Hehehe, look at you. Fucking foot-slut fucker. Push ‘em together, Free-Use boy. Make it tight for me.”
Not sure if he had a choice, he did exactly what he was told, pulling his feet together and keeping the arches as tight to one another as he could. The rat just kept humping away, fucking the space between them and – and it felt good. It felt like the nerves in his feet had been completely rewired somehow, forcing him to feel like – like he was actually getting fucked somehow, the heat going from his soles right up to his head and down to his dick.
His cock twitched and he panted for breath as the space between his arches were fucked. Each thrust made his head roll back, his breath coming faster and shorter. He moaned, whimpering, his toes curling and his ass clenching against the plug –
“Mmmph…mmmph!”
Fern came while the foot-fuck was still going on. His cock jumped and squirted against his belly, spraying white lines along his stomach and all the way up to his nipples. Every little spurt was accompanied by a tense squeeze, his toes curling tighter, his feet pressing more tightly together. He could feel every vein along the rat’s cock, could feel every inch of it between his feet.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
It didn’t last long after that; the rat came quickly, spraying his seed all over the squirrel’s tattooed soles. Fern shivered as the rodent let him go, lunging to his feet as fast as he could. The soft squish-squish of the slime underfoot was a reminder of what had just happened and how he would be carrying that for a while.
“Hehehe, good little foot-slut,” the rat said. “I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
Fern shivered, hustling along before someone else could call him over. The drone followed behind him, still streaming the show to whoever happened to be watching. Roth, probably.
#
Four weeks into the program…
The plug had been removed, though only a week ago. Fern was waiting for someone to take advantage of it, and he kept telling himself that he didn’t want them to. He’d realized that morning that telling himself that was something of a lie.
The squirrel groaned as he leaned over the library desk, staring at the computer screen and trying to focus his thoughts. It had only been four weeks, but in those four weeks, he’d had his feet fucked – repeatedly – and been made to learn how to deepthroat more cocks than he wanted to think about. The guards and the prisoners both looked at him like little more than a free hole to use, and it didn’t matter what he happened to be doing at the time. If they saw him and started getting turned on – which seemed like it would always happen, considering he was always naked – they were going to pile on and use him.
He rubbed his forehead, trying to think clearly as he looked at the computer screen. He’d made a few hundred notes about weak points in the prison, from windows that were often kept propped open to shipments of supplies that were usually two-way, from the guards that wanted to skive off on their duties to those that were impossible to bribe. There were hundreds of little details that would make for the start of a good escape plan.
If only he could focus.
His cock was leaking almost non-stop these days. Even now, the little thing was oozing even though it was soft, dripping on his balls and on the padded bit of the chair. The squirrel shifted from one cheek to the other, almost missing the heavy weight of the plug inside of him. That had been an easy way to cum if he needed to, but now his ass was empty. Stretched, yes, and practiced – Roth had made it very clear that Fern’s hole was going to be fucked soon, now that he had spent three weeks with a plug inside – but empty.
So.
Very.
Empty.
Mmmph…focus…focus…
He rubbed his eyes again, trying to think through what he could do with the information he’d gathered. Yet, every time that he thought of a guard that might be of use, some part of him started thinking of kneeling in front of them instead, of feeling their balls on his muzzle and their cocks down his throat. He started thinking of the prisoners – the rat, and others – dragging him along by the ankle and fucking his feet.
And he started thinking of other things, things that he’d never tried. Things that’d mean lifting his tail and…and…
“Mmmph…”
The squirrel leaned forward, head in hands, as his imagination ran wild with things that he’d never done. His tail high, his cheeks spread, and a cock inside of him instead of just a plug.
Fern had never allowed someone else to penetrate him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure that he wanted that, or that it would feel good, or if he was ready for it, but at the same time, the fucking fantasies were running wild through his head. The concept of being railed hit him harder than fucking someone else ever had, and fuck if it wasn’t riling him up and making him think of how it would feel to be passed between the prisoners like that.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way, he thought, rubbing his forehead. This was supposed to be a cover, a dodge. Why…why can’t I stop thinking of –
“Well, well, well. So this is where the latest Free-Use slut has been hiding.”
Fern sat up straight in his chair, but too late. A pair of furred hands rested on his shoulder, holding him down and keeping him from getting up. The dull rumble of a faint purr filled his ears, and he shivered as he felt the body-heat of someone else pressing against the back of his head.
“Hiding in the library. Trying to keep your ass from becoming public goods? Tsk, tsk.”
“I – I –”
“No need to fret…”
One of the hands left his shoulder, stroking along his face instead. The squirrel saw the orange fur, the white underside, the black stripes – tiger. The feline flexed his fingers, showing the claws between.
“I’ve been looking forward to this. Lean forward now, that’s a good little squirrel.”
Oh god…
Despite all the ‘training’ that the plug had put him through, he didn’t know if he was ready for this. Yet, all the things that had been done to him –
He didn’t even realize that he’d leaned forward, nor that the chair had been moved out of the way until the tiger’s large hand rested under his tail. A finger on each cheek, two helping spread them, and the last –
“Mmmmmmmph…”
He whimpered under his breath as he was split and filled all at once. Just one finger, but it was a fat one, rubbing against his prostate like it was a pleasure-seeking weapon. He arched his back despite himself, shaking his head as his inexperienced hole clenched down again, and again, and again, milking the digit opening him up.
“Mmm, looks like you already know what to do.”
“Nnngh…It’s…it’s the first…”
“First time? Heh. It won’t be the last with a hole as slutty as yours. It knows what it wants. You should listen to it.”
That was what he didn’t want to do, considering it was getting louder and louder about what it wanted instead of what he should be doing, but he didn’t have a choice. As that finger worked in, out, in, out, he slumped further and further over. By the time his chest hit the desk, his tail was so high that there was no hiding his ass.
“There we are. Relax.”
The tiger’s cock flopped over his cheeks. Fern knew that he had to do something, anything to take some kind of control, but his brain was fried. The pure pleasure of that finger sliding out and leaving him all warmed up with nowhere to go had stripped his annoyance away. He needed something, anything, to stretch him again.
The heated cock head nudged his hole. The hacker moaned, closing his eyes as the tiger leaned over him.
“This is where you belong.”
This is what you need.
The tiger’s words and his body’s desires blended together, creating something that he could no longer ignore. Fern just hoped that he’d come through the other side with something of his old plan, because for right now –
“Ah!”
The tip popped in, and he couldn’t think of anything else but dick.
The End
Summary: Kink-Tober the 12th – finally back on track – and we get to some prison sex. I hope you enjoy the idea of this Free-Use category.