[b][u][center]An Impossible Sentence
Chapter 5
For Mizzukat
By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]








The cell felt bigger than it was as he sat down across from the naked boar on the bunk. Despite the fact that it was meant for two people, he felt like more could gather in here, and probably had since Mafia had been sent to prison. It had the feeling of some grand place of schemes and plots, even though they were in the depths of the most impenetrable prison on the planet. 

The fact that Mafia still managed to put off that air of power, even here, worried him. It had taken years to put the boar away, and for all that he had managed to convince himself that this was his only way to get out of here, he knew for a fact that he was risking bringing hell itself to the surface. 

Mafia scratched a small note on the notebook and passed it over. 

[i]Make small-talk. They can’t read what we’re saying, but they’ll be suspicious if it’s too quiet.[/i]

“You think that you’re going to be able to just run this place the way that you ran the streets?” Horus asked, crossing one leg over the other and doing his best to ignore the raven cum still dripping down the front of his face. “I doubt that the guards are going to take kindly to some gang running just under their noses.”

“I think you would be drastically disappointed as to the preferences of the guards, ‘Hermcules.’”

“That is not my name.”

“It is the name that I choose to use for you, heh,” the boar said, shaking his head as he passed another note over. “But if you think that they care, you’d be quite mistaken. The Maxson way of thinking has permeated through all ranks and layers of the non-prisoner population. They believe that the only thing that matters is making sure that we don’t leave. Everything else that happens may as well be just the same as breathing. As long as we don’t try and kill one another, they don’t care one bit what happens.”

The boar was off on a tear on the perils of group-think, and despite himself, Horus couldn’t help but smile. He knew that Mafia had a talent for holding forth, but this was one of the few times that a monologue would have been useful rather than merely annoying. Taking the sheet of paper, he flicked his eyes over it. 

[i]Time is short, so we’ll have to make this brief. The long and short of the plan is this: we have turned several guards and a Farseer on the surface level and two staff in the infirmary. That will be enough to get us out of the prison if we can get to the surface, but the problem remains in getting there.[/i]

He raised an eyebrow. The fact that Mafia had managed to get that many of the staff on his side as that was an accomplishment and a half, particularly considering that he imagined that most of the surface staff never came as far down as this layer of gen-pop. This far out to sea, this far in the depths of hell, nobody would want to associate with the villains if they didn’t have to. A part of him almost wanted to ask how it happened. 

The rest of him knew that he was better off not-knowing, and he kept his mouth shut. The last thing that he needed was to start feeling admiration for this criminal. 

Another sheet of paper followed. The boar got to his feet, pacing back and forth. They’d gone from the perils of group-think to the endless disdain that the upper world had for anyone that could be a threat to them, how the world above would be looking at heroes soon enough to toss in here. 

Horus hesitated as he gripped the paper, imagining what [i]would[/i] happen to some of the heroes on the surface. He’d been the first one sent here on trumped-up charges, he was sure – though he supposed that there could have been others that he believed were guilty when they were not, just as the world believed that he was guilty of what had happened up there – but he probably wouldn’t be the last. The Super Max was, he realized, too easy a solution for an inconvenient super. Once they were tossed in jail, all the public had to be told was that they were convicted of something horrified, and they would cease caring. 

[i]Brilliant, I suppose.[/i]

Mafia gestured for him to read the next note, never ceasing in his monologue. Horus did as he was bid. 

[i]What we need are keys. Prism Gate keys, specifically, and a master key if we can get it. We can get some of the former down here, but only Maxson keeps the master key on him at all times. And he’s got a specific interest now.[/i]

He didn’t like the sound of that. 

[i]If you want to be part of the jail-break, then that’s going to be your contribution. You’re going to have to get us the master key. And you can get that from the Warden himself, now that he has shown some interest in you.[/i]

That was not the sort of plan that he had been hoping to see. For all that he knew that Mafia was a clever son of a bitch, he’d been hoping that there was some sort of secret passageway, some sort of underwater escape tunnel, or something that they could use. Not this…this seduction bullshit. 

And the idea of the crocodile putting his hands on him, the idea of submitting himself to ‘customization’ and ‘breeding,’ was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. The very idea of letting someone like that do such…

[i]If it’s the only way out, can you stomach it?[/i]

It was a question that he didn’t want to ask himself, but he unfortunately had little choice in the matter. He glared at the paper, rubbing his forehead as he imagined doing it. 

[i]Just once…just a few times…[/i]

Surely, it wouldn’t take more than that to get the master key off that asshole, would it? Just a couple of sessions, and then he could get the master key, come back to Mafia, and they could get the hell out of here. And once they got to the surface, he could figure out how he was going to get his life back on track, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to have the time to figure that out down here. 

The boar took the pieces of paper back, crumpled them up, and tossed them in the toilet. Instead of asking him a question, he passed him the notebook and a crude pen, and Horus took them from him. 

“Anyway, that’s why you should be disappointed in the guards. They’re nothing more than thugs themselves, so why wouldn’t a cluster of prisoners be willing to form a gang to keep the worst of them at bay?”

“I guess it makes sense, even if it’s…”

“What?”

“Dangerous.”

“Everything in this prison is dangerous,” Mafia said, chuckling to himself. “My little hero, we would not be here if we were not considered a danger to society. And yet, they allow people like you to walk free…for now.”

“For other reasons.”

“For their own gain. Let’s not fool ourselves, hmm? There is little reason for them to let you stay out and us to stay in.”

“…”

“If they could have something that they could control more, if they had something that couldn’t think for itself do the same things that you did, they would do it in a heartbeat. The point of their society is, and has always been, control over others. By having useful people like yourself on their side, they incentivize the weaker criminal element to lie low, and they force others, like myself and my associates, to step forward. We have little choice; we cannot lower ourselves to nothing, and we cannot simply do the ‘right thing.’ We are not allowed. So we must be ourselves, and in doing so, we threaten their order, the very order that forces us to take action in the first place. 

“It is a remarkably efficient system. Strangle the people, enforcing a certain moral code. Those that cannot, or will not, fit into that code are forced to either be someone that they are not, or become stronger to be free. Those that are stronger are forced to expose themselves, and so the weaknesses to the system are purged regularly by being forced to show themselves. And if the system itself starts to break, then it is simple enough to remove that part – that hero – and replace them with another one. After all, there is never a shortage of eager lackeys for the system.”

It hurt to hear it broken down like that. He didn’t entirely agree with what Mafia was saying, nor did he think that it was that simple, but there was an undeniable feeling of truth to what the boar was saying. 

The world was broken. His presence here said that. The fact that they were this damaged in the prison said a lot more. 

[i]What kind of system have I been supporting?[/i] he wondered. 

It wasn’t enough to convince him that the villains had it right, but it was enough to make him question just how much he had swallowed without thinking about it while he had still been one of the great heroes of the world. He shook his head again, looking down at the paper and writing something out. 

[i]How do you expect me to get close to the Warden? He’s not going to call me, and if I take his offer, he’ll isolate me immediately.[/i]

“You’re certainly introspective. Have I touched a nerve?” Mafia asked. 

“You say that the system only exists to control people. But at least it gets people like you and…some of the others off the street.”

“By some of the others, I assume you mean my associates at the cell door?” Mafia asked, chuckling as he took the notebook back. “By all means, say what you really feel. The floor is yours; hold forth as you will.”

In other words, keep talking while the boar read his question and responded. Horus wasn’t great at deception, but he managed to summon enough indignation at the question to sound – he hoped – properly offended. He sat up and grimaced. 

“You think that they deserve to be on the streets? Even if I completely believed that they’re just out to control people, look at the things your people have done. Look at the people that General Victorious raped, or the others that were killed by the criminals up and down the cells in here. Look at all the horrendous things that have been perpetrated by the thugs that we’ve had to lock up here.”

“And you think that they’ll get any better out here?” Mafia asked, scrawling a few words on the notebook. “I think that you vastly overestimate the goodness of the system when the entire procedure for dealing with an assault on its values is ‘toss them in a pit until they die.’”

“Some of you are released!”

“Few and far between if they have any valid powers. We are in a pit of doom, Hermcules. There is no way out except death for most of us. I will not be allowed to see the sun again for at least ten lifetimes, and some others have even longer sentences. Would you call that fair? Would you call that suitable for people that haven’t even killed or raped or anything worth that sort of sentence?”

He didn’t have an answer to that, or at the very least, he didn’t have a good one. Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, he looked at the three villains that stood guard. 

General Victorious he had no sympathy for. The bull had been a bully, someone that had gotten used to getting stronger and stronger with his powers, growing closer and closer to invincibility as he raised his standard and put his mark on others. The only ‘good’ thing that he did was care for those that he pulled into his herd in his own twisted way, but even then, that was a mark of taking responsibility for what one did, not doing a good thing. Who knew how many of his ‘herd’ even wanted to be part of it?

And then there was Dark Storm. There was…something there, he was surprised to feel, but it wasn’t the same as what he felt when he looked at the bull. There was no unfair power that forced him to feel a sense of need and want and submission that he had to fight every second he was around the bull. Instead, the raven made him feel…questioning. 

[i]What if the system was broken? What if they only sent him here because he couldn’t be controlled?[/i]

Yes, Dark Storm deserved to be locked up. Yes, he deserved punishment and rehabilitation for the deliberate murders that he was responsible for. But did he deserve to never see the sun again? Did he deserve to have to fight for his life day in and day out just to keep existing down here in the Super Max?

He didn’t know. It was a hard question to answer. 

And then there was Shock Treatment. Of the three lieutenants that Mafia had, that one was the saddest. The poor opossum had been gifted with a tremendous power: control over electrical currents and the ability to generate a massive amount of power was a godsent of a power, something that could have improved the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of people even if he just jolted the power plants to keep them going without the constant fuel consumption that they had needed before now. 

Instead, Shock Treatment had become a ‘doctor’ that tried to fix people with the shock-treatments that he came up with, channeling his powers through others and rewiring both their brains and bodies. And now that he thought about it, none of the opossum’s ‘patients’ had been allowed to come to the trial. 

In hindsight, he wondered if that meant some had been fixed, or if it meant that they were all that traumatized by him. 

He shook his head as the boar handed him the notepad again. 

[i]I suggest that you make an arrangement with him. Perhaps a suggestion that you are to be taken to solitary shortly. There are ways to ensure that you aren’t left too alone, after all. And if you are taken there, he can meet you for…liaisons. I’m sure that you’ll have a chance during one of those to get the key off that lazy crocodile.[/i]

The very idea of prostituting himself like that was enough to make him sick, but once more, he was painfully aware of his lack of options. The fact that the Warden wanted him was one of the tools that they had on-hand. If he could manipulate that, and keep the Warden from using him to get him properly pregnant, then it was worth thinking about, for sure. 

He read further down. 

[i]Now, we are about out of time, but I think that there is just enough time left for me to take some of my pleasure. After all, you’ve given my lieutenants plenty to enjoy. Now, it’s my turn.[/i]

Horus had been afraid of that. His asshole clenched on the monitoring plug as he looked up at the boar, not surprised to see him getting up and gesturing at the bed. The idea of doing anything for the thick, middle-aged crime boss put him off, but…

Well, he’d already sucked dick, been dicked down – twice – and had to lick the talons of a bird and take a facial across the muzzle. He had already lost so much dignity that he doubted that he still entirely knew the meaning of the word, so the idea of actually taking it further didn’t hurt as much as he thought it might. 

Getting to his hooves, he took the two steps across the cell that it required and sat down. The boar gestured for him to get on his belly, and he bit his lips as he did just that, trying not to think –

“Ulk!”

He bit off the sounds that wanted to come out as he felt a broad nose press right under his balls, right into his feminine sex. The sound still got out, but it wasn’t as loud as it otherwise would have been. The boar’s breath was thick and hot against him back there, and it didn’t help to have the feeling of that warmth breathing over the back of his balls, either. He stiffened, trying to resist the urge to close his legs and barely succeeding. 

Another note was passed overhead, and he shivered as he took it and unfolded it. 

[i]I’ve been deprived for some time of any proper…scented company. I have to make do with what I have, and this…mmm, this is just what I needed. Now, do not say a word. And do not move.[/i]

That was going to be a challenge, particularly as he felt the snuffling get louder, the huffing and wheezing between his legs getting much, much worse. The thick smell of his own pussy back there was probably winding Mafia up to no small extent, considering that none of them had had the chance to bathe in nearly four days, and – 

[i]Nnngh![/i]

That tongue. It jabbed right into him, going deeper than he imagined was possible before flicking back out and almost diving into his plugged ass. It couldn’t go in, so it circled around his pucker, grinding in and slathering everything with a layer of slimy, sticky spit. 

The snorting was getting louder, too. He didn’t know what was happening, but – 

[i]Mmmph…Nnngh...[/i]

He gripped the edge of the bed in a deathgrip as Mafia went to town on his pussy, snuffling around it, digging his tongue in and slurping it out with enough force that he could feel his juices being all but shoveled out by that tongue. In, out, in, out, digging into his pussy as if it was a feeding trough rather than an orifice. 

[i]God…[/i]

He was getting wetter, too, wetter and wetter as that tongue kept working him over. He could barely breathe through the constant assault in his pussy, his eyes already starting roll back in their sockets as the boar’s bristly chin rubbed against his clit, as the big guy pinned down his legs and kept him from even coming close to squeezing them shut. 

Lick. 

Snort. 

Suckle. 

Oh, the suckling was the worst. The rubbery lips sealed shut on his clit, and his eyes just about bugged out of their sockets. He wanted to kick, he wanted to thrash about, he wanted to do something, anything to show what was going on, but no. Stillness and silence was the order, and he couldn’t break it. 

That tongue lashed over his clit over and over again, and the foul snapping and slurping sounds back there made him feel wetter and dirtier than he had ever felt in his life. His pussy and the outside of his ass might as well have been a buffet for the pig, and he had to just – 

[i]MMMMPH![/i]

Another sudden stab of the tongue that he could barely hold back from reacting to, this time sliding past his pucker and into his ass. The feeling of it pushing the plug up just a little, making it grind down into his prostate, had his cock throbbing against the bedsheets. He could barely get a breath in, and he wheezed through clenched teeth as he stared at the far wall of the cell. 

Thick hands and strong fingers kept his cheeks pulled wide apart, and he kept biting back the urge to scream as he felt the sheer pleasure of the tongue working him over. So deep, so wet, so slimy –

He was slimy. 

He was slick. 

He was so sweaty. The smell of himself, the rank musk of pussy and cock and cum and even ass was thick in the cell, and Horus could barely think through the sheer power of the odors assaulting him. He felt like some dirty farm sow that Mafia was getting himself off with, and the soft, slick sounds of someone thrusting against something behind him only made that feel that much more real. 

Thrust. 

Lick. 

Suck. 

The boar sealed his lips around Horus’s hole, pulling at his pussy and his clit at the same time, and the stallion could barely get a breath in as his nether lips were pulled, stretched, and left puffy by the constant suction. The lewd slurping and snuffling back there only grew louder, and the constant assault of nose and lips and tongue continued. 

Up. 

Down. 

In. 

Out. 

The world spun around him as he fought every sound coming up his throat, stifling every sound that he possibly could. It was so…so intense, so wrong, but so fucking pleasurable that he couldn’t even think. All that he could do was feel that intense need, that obsession that the boar had with his pussy and the edges of his asshole. If that plug hadn’t been in place, he knew for a fact that his other hole would have been plundered just as hard as his pussy was, and probably deeper. He wheezed, lowering his head against the mattress, barely keeping the whimpers of lust behind his teeth. 

[i]A little more…just a bit more…[/i]

His cock throbbed away, his pussy clenched on either air or tongue, and he felt like he was right on the edge. And he kept feeling right on the edge for another six minutes while the boar kept getting what he wanted. Slurp, suck, snuffle, even going so far as to gum at the stallion’s balls and pull on them ever so slightly, dragging them back and making them feel all the heavier from what was happening to them. 

[i]Ah…ah…ah…[/i]

And then…

It was done. 

The sudden cessation of the pleasure that he had been suffering and had inflicted on him stole his breath away. The wheezing that he had managed to hold back that long suddenly came free, and he slumped down against the bed. 

“Heh…heh…”

Horus looked over his shoulder. Mafia pulled himself back, rubbing his face and shaking his head. His entire muzzle was smeared with spit and pussy juice, and he looked almost half-feral. Yet, with every little pat and rub of his cheeks, he seemed to come back to his real self, until there was finally some sense behind his eyes. 

“Mmmph…”

Leaning back, the boar adjusted a tie that wasn’t there, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. He smiled. 

“I think that will be all.”

“…”

“You can go back to your cell now. Off with you.”

Horus could barely get his hooves under him as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He stumbled forward for a moment, then got to his feet, and wobbled out of the cell. At the door, he had to pause and lean, and the three lieutenants all looked at him with different expressions. Taunting. Eager. Curious and suspicious. All of them felt differently toward him, and all of them would be quick to bring him down if he made a false move with their plan. 

[i]What the hell did I get myself into?[/i]

The only way out. It was, quite literally, the only way that didn’t involve turning himself into someone else. 

“Come here,” Mafia said. 

The lieutenants entered the cell. Shock Treatment was the only one to hesitate, looking at Horus for a moment and giving him the same up and down look that he had given before, and once more, he mouthed that word. 

‘Breeder.’ 

There was still that look of a promise in the opossum’s eye, and he barely kept himself from shaking at the sight of it all. He watched the small male walk away, keeping himself from turning and running and showing weakness, and only barely managed it. 

Then, and only then, did he turn and walk back up the levels of gen-pop to the top floor where his cell waited. The other prisoners watched him walk away, and though he could tell some of them were already grinning at what had happened to him down there – there was no way that they could miss the smell of his pussy as he walked up the stairs, being the only herm in the entire cell block – they didn’t make a move. He imagined that they were too petrified of what Mafia and his people would do to them if they did, and were doing their best to keep from getting in trouble. 

Eventually, he reached the top floor and he walked down the catwalk to his cell. He got more than a few gropes on the way, his ass cheeks getting dimpled and almost bruised at least once, before he finally rounded the corner. 

Shadowclaw greeted him with a chuckle, the sound coming from an out-of-sight corner. He didn’t look. Instead, the stallion walked right to his cot and fell into it, his face buried in his pillow. 

“Something positive out of this meeting, perhaps?” Shadowclaw asked. 

“Mmmph…”

“You cannot talk about it, I’m sure.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Then you may be interested to know that we will be cleaned, soon.”

That was enough to get him to lift his head from the pillow, though only to stare at the wall. The panther chuckled. 

“Yes. I was listening about, and I heard some of the guards whispering about preparing for bathing. I imagine that they’ll be here within the hour to take care of the stink in here.”

“Hmmph. I thought you liked that smell.”

“It is appealing, for a time, but there is a point where it reaches a certain rankness that a nose like mine would find offensive. Though, judging from the way that you drip from between your legs right now –”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Mmm, a little touchy, are we?”

“Sensitive…very sensitive.”

Particularly with the blue-balls that came with this whole hell. The plug and the other restraints that the prisoners had to wear did a great many things. They kept the facility advised of their various positions and locations, their vitals and their state of being, and even acted as listening devices. That was just the start of it, too, as there were other functions that he knew of, and probably even more that he didn’t. 

And one of the ones that he [i]did[/i] know of was the chastity function, which seemed to be turned on for many of the prisoners [i]most[/i] of the time. There were rare occasions when they had breaks, but there were many times when he and everyone else was just held on-edge. This was one of those times, where he was held at the point of being blue-balled from the rough oral down there, and he was just…honestly thankful that was all that he had to deal with, rather than any guilt from cumming his brains out around a crime boss’s tongue. 

[i]Though he came damn close…[/i]

He shook his head, deciding not to think about that. He tilted his head toward Shadowclaw, but still didn’t look at him. 

“What’s the bathing situation? Communal showers?”

“Ah, you have not seen it yet, have you?”

“…It’s something perverted, isn’t it?”

“Is there anything in this prison that is not?”

“Ugh…it’s supposed to be a prison, not…”

“Not what?”

“…”

“What it is, my cell-mate friend, is a collection of people that have power over people that they would never normally be able to handle. They are given power over those that should be able to destroy them, and as such, they feel like they are invincible, as if they can do anything in the world to them, to us.

“Power, as we know, is a great aphrodisiac. Is it any wonder that so many of them turn to perversion?”

“Ugh…So…what do they do?” Horus asked. 

“That is a question, and we both know that answers require payment…”

The horse closed his eyes before whatever bit of anatomy that Shadowclaw wanted teased was shoved into his face. He turned away, putting his head back in his pillow rather than taking it into his mouth. 

“Is that a no, then?” the feline purred. 

“Not right now.”

“You will find out on your own, I suppose.”

“Yes, I guess I will.”

“You wish no warning of what you may encounter? No chance of some invisible friend watching you, in case things get out of hand?”

“…”

“Hmmmmmm?”

Tap, tap, tap. It wasn’t dripping, so he doubted that it was the panther’s cock against his cheek this time. Probably a toe, maybe several, something that wouldn’t leave a dripping trail down his throat when he was done, and more than that, the offer…tempted him. 

[i]It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have someone like him around…nor would it be a bad thing if the Warden showed up and Shadowclaw happened to be there to hear me make the offer to meet the Warden in solitary…[/i]

After all, he couldn’t tell the plan to anyone without Mafia kicking him out of it, but he needed allies. He needed someone that maybe, just maybe, he could trust to stay where he was paid to be. Shadowclaw might not be that person, might be too mercenary to really trust to any great extent, but he was the only one that came close that Horus still knew. 

“…You’ll be there?” he asked. 

“If you give me payment, but of course.”

The stallion hesitated, not long, just enough to keep up appearances, before slowly opening his mouth. 

He guessed right. Toes it was, three of them, gently nudging against his tongue, and he let them drag along the inside of his mouth a few times, treating it like a doormat to clean sweat and more from them before starting to lick them properly. It was humiliating, of course, but everything that had happened to him since coming to the Super Max was humiliating. The whole feeling was starting to lose at least some of its sting, at least. Some, not all, but that was better than nothing. 

“Mmm, such a good little stallion…”

“Mmmmph.”

“Now, don’t forget to get between the toes,” Shadowclaw said. 

“Mmmph…”

As he dragged his tongue between the panther’s toes, he imagined what really waited for him with the bathing. If it wasn’t communal showers, that meant that they had gone for something drastically different, and depending on just how different they were planning, this could be very…intense. Less chance of rape-by-prisoner, but a hell of a lot greater chance of being molested by the guards. Considering that the fennecs at the front door had been eager to fist him and try to rile him up for ‘punishment,’ he could only imagine what the other guards further down would do. 

But for now, he didn’t let himself think about that. Instead, he just licked at the toes in his mouth and sucked down the sweat on them. He would be good. 









[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: Holy shit, we came back to this. Welcome back to the Super Max, where Horus is finally getting some answers as to the plan for how to get the hell out of the prison…if he can stomach the idea. 

Tags: M/H, Boar, Stallion, Snuffling Around, Near-Orgasm, Oral, Cunnilingus, Pussy Eating, Rimming, Ass Eating, Prison, Superheroes, Supervillains, Wet, Dripping, Embarrassing, Planning, Plotting, Miniseries,