Hammered

Story by Marthell on SoFurry

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#4 of Tail and side stories

Glow sticks, wristbands...

This story is a stand-alone piece, but has additional context and value for readers of Tail.


Glow sticks, wristbands, piercings, lights, thumping electronic music. The unmistakable musk of horny, sweaty guys looking for a good time. Alcohol, drugs, smoke, dancing. The feel of paws brushing against my ass. Not knowing who the owners are, not caring.

For the first time in my life feeling at home, thousands of miles away from where I live.

Can't hear a thing past the music. Smells awful. So crowded and humid I can't help but feel sticky. That lingering taste of seductive poison still on my tongue from the last beer, or cocktail, or whatever the fuck it was. So many hot guys I don't know where to look.

More drunk than I've ever been.

Putting my paws on random guys. If they're shirtless then feeling their fur, looking into their eyes. Seductive as I can muster.

Making out with some of them. There's a wolf. A rabbit. A dog of some kind, I don't know. Probably more.

Guys lifting up my tail, grinding against my rear as I dance.

Loving it all.

I've never... Not even... Nothing similar. This place is a paradise.

And then I'm leaving it. A drink in one paw, my other being clasped by an otter. He's leading me out.

Oh yeah. That's right.

He bought me the drink too. It's already half gone. I guess that was me.

Outside, smoker's area, not that half of them hadn't lit up inside anyway. Then I'm against the wall.

Groping, kissing. Trading saliva. Tongues tying. Getting hard. His paws all over me.

He's tall, dark furred, blue eyed. He has an expression of kindness that betrays his relative sobriety. He's got to be at least a few years older than me. If anything that only gets me harder.

I never knew that was my thing.

Maybe it isn't. Maybe it's just here, just tonight.

This is the best birthday ever.

"Aren't you just the cutest fox I've ever seen?" He says, licking the tip of my nose.

I don't know where my drink went but I don't have it any more. I don't know whether I threw it or drank it.

My tongue still feels tied somehow. I nod at him. Slowly stroking a paw across his crotch. He's hard too. Fuck yeah.

He brushes his tail against my leg, I shudder.

My paw's in his again, he's leading me somewhere.

"My place or yours?" He asks.

"Unless you want to book a plane to the States..."

He flashes me a smile.

We walk down street after street. All new to me. He offers me a puff of his joint. I didn't even realize he'd started smoking.

I refuse. Too many firsts already, I can't handle too much more.

He asks if I'm having a nice holiday.

"Best time of my life so far, and I've been here less than a day."

He likes that answer. He laughs, says we're getting close.

For a moment I wonder whether I should be worried. But the earrings, the soft expression, the free drinks, the hard cock, the tender grip of his paw... He's not some creep.

"How old are you?" It occurs of him to ask.

"Eighteen."

"So that's why you came to London? You can drink here."

My turn to laugh. It's partly true, to be fair. Partly.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three. Don't want to do anything you're not okay with, so let me know if anything's bothering you."

Nothing's bothering me. My turn to push him against the nearest building and make out.

Then... then we're in his house. The intense buzz of alcohol clearing up, though only a little.

"What's your name?" He asks, getting me a glass of water. I think I asked for it. "I suppose I should have asked you this earlier."

"Adrian," I say.

"Marcus," he says.

I think I sip at my drink. There's some growling. Paws at clothing. More kissing. Less clothing. More kissing.

We're shirtless, then pantsless, he slips off a necklace and a couple of bright bracelets. I keep on the multitude of wristbands I'm wearing. He doesn't comment. Then it's time to deal with underwear. Then we're both naked.

He wants me. The way he looks down at me, hunger in his eyes. He wants to fill me with his cock and make me his. He knows I want him too.

I suppose it's all pretty obvious by the erections. His exploratory paws feel all over me and mine over him. Murmurs of pleasure escape my lips as he briefly strokes by cock.

Suddenly, he straightens up and looks at me seriously.

"You ever been drunk before?"

"Not this drunk."

"You're sure you're not going to regret this?"

For one moment I'm entirely lucid.

"I'm sure."

"One hundred percent?"

"One hundred percent."

I've never been more sure of a damn thing in my life.

This is what I came here for. Thousands of miles. Many hundreds of dollars. An escape from chains. Somewhere that I can be who I want to be. Somewhere I can drink and dance and get fucked by guys. Somewhere I can feel comfortable in my own fur.

The British otter's face lights up.

"Good. Now suck."

Then there's a cock in my mouth. Precum leaking onto my tongue. I swallow every drop. There's motion. Back and forth. Back and forth. He's stood up, paws on my shoulders, head tipped back, letting out a long, deep moan as I work at his member.

I need to make him happy. I need his cum inside of me. I need this.

His hips keep gyrating and I keep his cock warm, wet and hard like I'm supposed to. I'm not an expert, but I've had a few loads down my throat. I know what I'm doing, to some extent.

Although, when it comes to being drunk... It's not like I've never, but it's... I'm not quite so used to it. It's kinda fun though.

Then he stops me and pushes my head away from his crotch. He let's out a long satisfied breath and strokes his glistening wet cock.

"You may have a gorgeous, warm muzzle, foxy, but I'd rather not finish so soon."

He's thin. His fur's so dark it's almost black. He's got a gold stud earring in one ear. Fuck I want a piercing, it looks so damn hot on him. He's sexy and happy and, fuck, I wish I could live a life like his.

Then again, I'm in fucking England, getting fucked by a hot gay otter. I can't really complain right now.

"Where do you want me?"

He doesn't answer in words. His paws steadily guide me from my knees to all fours. He strokes my sides, nibbles at my ear. Whispers sweet and sexy things. Squeezes my ass. All of it combines to drive me crazy.

Oh fuck, I want this so bad.

He positions himself behind me and leans over me. He lightly bites my neck, causing shivers to course through my body like electricity meeting water and spreading out instantly in all directions.

I'm his and he's mine and right now we're each other's and... fuck it. I'm being ridiculous, but it's so hard to explain what this means to me.

Before I really know what's happening his cock is pressed up against the base of my tail. Coherent lines of logical thought fall away.

A little pain. A bit of discomfort. Pressure, pleasure, satisfaction. Moans, grunts, fur on fur.

He's deep inside of me, sliding back and forth. My dick is quivering, drops of cum leak from it as it swings back and forth under me.

His right paw grips my hips firmly while his left feels around my naked body. My waist, my back, my legs, my balls, my ass. In this moment it's all his, and he knows it.

A particularly hard thrust takes me away from the musing and straight to the part where I'm yelling out profanities, panting and moaning and being so fucking happy that I'm right here, right now, not back home. Everything makes a lot more sense here.

Nobody's telling me who to be, or what I am, or what to think, or how to act, or...

Don't ruin the moment.

The otter's breathing becomes shorter, his movements more urgent. His sharply bucking hips grind against my rear, and I can no longer force my vocal chords to make coherent sounds. I'm left gasping for air as he fucks me hard.

Now both of his paws are gripping my sides so firmly it's like he fears the world will disappear if he lets go of me. Or maybe I'm projecting.

But nothing would disappear, this is all real, all solid. It's actually happening. I'm getting fucked on holiday after my first night in a gay club. Success.

Fuck, this is good. The sensation of the otter's balls rubbing against my fur as he plows me makes my cock more drippy than I've ever known it to be. He speeds up his thrusts. Without knowing when I started, and not wanting to stop, I'm letting out moan after pleasured moan.

A stray self-conscious thought flitters in and out of my head momentarily. I'm not letting me ruin this.

Expletives. Panting. Movement. An intense, disarming sense of contentedness. Losing myself in it all, hoping I'll never have to be found.

I want this. Not just the sex or the fun. I want this. The freedom, the lifestyle, the everything. I want to be fucking fabulous. I want to be the me that I've always imagined. The me I'm so scared of showing. The me I've been tonight.

It's like life clicks together so dramatically the sound is almost audible. Fuck, I'm so happy.

"Oh fuck yeah, foxy, I'm gonna cum."

As if the universe knows it's such a perfect time. His movements become more staggered and forceful as he slams against my rump, his cock deep inside of my ass. Ripples of pleasure spreading through me with every one of his movements.

With one last deep push - and a long, satisfied exhalation - he reaches his climax, shooting his seed into me with pump after triumphant pump. I let the experience wash over me, capturing the moment in my mind as a snapshot, something I'll never forget.

He half collapses on top of me, while still mostly supporting himself with an outstretched arm so that he's not crushing me, and whispers sweet sentiments into my ear. I'm still rock hard and it isn't long until he and his adventurous paw finds that out.

Full of him and his cum, it doesn't take long for the otter to bring me to my own climax, and then his paw and his floor are messy. Then we're both lying on the very same, softly carpeted, floor together. His arms wrapped around me.

If I freeze this instant in time, I would. I'd live in it forever and not for a second get bored.

In our post sex haze his paws lazily comb my fur, exploring my body all over again as though it were new to him.

"How long are you over here for?" He asks eventually.

"Uh... until morning, I guess, unless you want me gone sooner." I respond, feeling flustered all of a sudden.

"No, no. I meant, how long are you going to be in this country?" He squeezes me into his warm chest with his strong arms and excitement takes over my mind like a giddy child on Christmas eve.

"Only a few nights."

He moves his muzzle close to my ear and whispers: "Let's make sure this night counts then."

He presses his crotch up against my rump again, he isn't hard yet but it's a statement of intent. One that I much appreciate.

I twist around in his arms, and nuzzle his cheek. He kisses the side of my muzzle and licks my nose. Before I know it, my tail's wagging like crazy.

After a few more lazy minutes of snuggling, we get up. He rests me on his sofa and offers me a tea. I accept, if only to get the full cultural experience.

He passes me the hot drink a couple of minutes later and I blow at the wispy steam rising from it's surface, still bathing in the intensity and joy of the night and the sex, not to mention the anticipation of what's to come. I look out of the apartment window at the artificially lit night-time city and, once again, I feel more at home than I ever have in my house. Well, my parent's house.

Just being here is like a revelation. A glimpse of what's to come.

Soon I can move out, get a job, get friends who care about me, do what I want to do, spend my time how I want to spend it, be who I want to be, fuck who I want to fuck.

It gets better.

That's what all those cheesy online groups say anyway. It's only now that I get it. Soon, I'll be in charge of my life. I can cut out the negative people and emotions and start fresh. Just a little longer...

This holiday is only a taster session of freedom. A damn good taste at that.

"Are you going to drink that, or just cup it adorably in your paws?" The otter asks me. I drift back to reality, turn to him, smile, and take a long gulp of the warm drink. He chuckles and grins wide. "You are so damn cute. Especially like you are now, butt naked with that red fur and those golden eyes, oh, and with those wristbands still on." He laughs again. "Do they mean something special to you? Or could you just not be bothered to take them off?"

The stack of wristbands adorning each of my arms suddenly feel uncomfortable. I look down at them, frown, and look back up to Marcus. I want to take them off, discard them like some dramatic metaphor for shrugging off my past, but I can't. I'm not ready for that. Not yet.

Just a little longer.

Suddenly I want to cry.

"Oh, I just wasn't really thinking about them," I say finally, forcing a smile, and he nods a vaguely disinterested nod. An urge grabs me and I change the subject. "Could I use your bathroom. You know, to clean up a little before our next adventure."

"Yeah, no problem, it's over there." He gestures towards it, then adorns a mischievous grin. "Want me to come with?"

I hesitate. Stop, think, speak.

"I would say yes, but I need a couple minutes to myself, I think."

"Sure, sure, no problem." He frowns. "Remember, we don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"It's not like that, it's-" I grunt. "Never mind, don't worry. Anyway, this way you get to watch my ass as I walk away."

"Can't argue with sound logic like that." He says, and then I stride off.

He whistles as I walk, which makes me laugh despite myself, and then I'm in the bathroom.

I close the door behind me. Turn on the shower, get in immediately and clean myself, doing my best not to think about anything other than exactly what I'm doing. When I get out I leave the shower running and dry myself off with a towel swiftly. After that I walk over to the basin and stare into the mirror attached to the wall above it.

I lift up my right arm and slowly pull off my wristbands. I look at my wrist, examine every inch of it that was obscured moments before.

I remember making every single cut.

...

Flashes of emotion, and memory come to mind unannounced and unwanted. Anger, hatred, depression, despair.

The time that... the time when... that day... when she... when he...

That crushing feeling of self loathing.

No more.

No fucking more.

I put on the wristbands again. Stare into my eyes in the mirror. Those golden eyes, that red fur. I smile.

"This is who you are now Adrian."

The dancing, the drinking, the fun, the sex.

"This is who you are now Adrian."

I imagine the piercings I'll get. The clothes I'll wear, the way I'll style my hair.

"This is who you are now Adrian."

Just a little while longer. Then no more sitting in dark rooms all day. No more loathing. No more depression. No more uncertainty. No more crying. No more cutting. No more considering...

I gulp.

No more considering that.

"This is who you are now Adrian."

The fox talking to me in the mirror looks like he knows what he's talking about. Then he's smiling a wide, warm smile.

"This is who you are now Adrian."

"Did you say something fox?" Comes the otter's voice from the other room. I must have been speaking louder than I thought.

Keep up the smile. Wag that tail. This is who you are now. I turn off the shower.

"Only that I'm missing the taste of your cock already." I say, opening the door and walking out.

"Perfect, I didn't mishear you then." He says from his place on the sofa, one paw slowly stroking his dick.

This is who you are now Adrian.

And, you know what?

I couldn't be happier about it.