Avians & Otters 2

Story by Sans55 on SoFurry

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The sequel to Avians & Otters!

As before, this is taken almost entirely from an RP between me and a friend, although with plenty of editing.


How the mighty had fallen.

Through the halls of the otter submarine, two otters were dragging the half-conscious body of the leader of the renowned avian team. He wore only a particularly high-cut, royal blue speedo with silver metal sides. The handsome eagle was still sporting a stiff tent in the blue fabric between the metal plates of his skimpy garment, a side-effect of his ordeal barely an hour earlier.

The otter and avian teams did battle as part of the well-known wargames, and the otters emerged victorious in their most recent engagement. Having been captured by the otters, the athletic avian leader was being dragged off to the brainwashing chamber, where he would be brainwashed into servitude to the warlord that commanded the otter team, as it was with everyone that was defeated and captured by another team, being brainwashed to serve the warlord of their respective teams. However, no one ever died in the games as all weapons induced in orgasms and sedated whoever they impacted.

The purpose of the games was for each warlord to ultimately conquer each and every tropical island in the archipelago. By defeating other teams, warlords would brainwash them into joining their side, usually forming them into a separate team. The victorious warlord would be bathed in riches and wealth for their leadership abilities.

Grane was the handsome, athletic and renowned eagle leader of an avian team. Until this day, he had never lost a battle. Now here he was, being dragged through the metallic halls of the otters' mobile base, his arousal visible to all inside his skimpy swimsuit, bathed in the humiliation of his defeat. He was on his knees as the two otters gripping his arms dragged him over to the brainwashing room. Both of them males, they both wore yellow speedos, their own arousal quite visible behind the tenting fabric, excited by the mere sight of their captive.

They came to the entrance to the brainwashing room, one of the otters letting go of their captive to turn the huge wheel on the door. After a few turns, the large metal hatch creaked open, revealing several complex contraptions, each with an avian strapped to it. As the two otters dragged the handsome eagle into the large chamber, two more otters stood waiting for them. One wore a white lab coat over a yellow (something), while the other wore only a yellow speedo with a white stripe on the side to signify to his fellow otters that he was their leader.

"Hey, Grane! Come on in!" said the otter leader who had come to greet the avian that he had defeated that very same day.

The two otters dragged the eagle up to the otter leader, then let go, placing him on his knees. Smiling, the otter leader knelt down in front of Grane, taking his beak in his paws.

"You never thought you'd be here, did you?" said the otter.

Grane simply responded with a quiet grunt, still barely conscious with his eyes half-closed. The otter smiled further at this, moving a paw down between Grane's legs, gently gripping his arousal through his skimpy speedo. Eliciting a soft moan from the once-proud avian leader.

"Do you know what happens now?" said the otter, leaning in to speak directly into Grane's ear. "Now we're gonna make you one of us..."

He suddenly retracted his hand from Grane's bulge, standing up, inciting a frustrated moan from the eagle. The otter nodded to the two that brought him in, who then gripped the eagle by the arms and lifted him up, dragging him over to one of the contraptions.

In the belly of the submarine, dozens of otters were scampering about in tight and revealing yellow swimwear, their required attire in the upcoming battle. Squad leaders were yelling orders to grab both land and water weaponry from the bins.

A female otter grabbed her mask, breathing device, harpoon gun and knife and hustled to the extraction point. It was a new experience for her to fight on land but at least some fighting would happen in the water beforehand. Her nipples pressed firmly against the top of her skin-suit while she attached each piece of equipment.

"This is going to be fun," she said to no one in particular.

The female otter saw the others entering the water through their water wells, splashing in and disappearing into the water with a few kicks of their fins. It was her turn and she made sure her breathing device was full of air and tightly secured. She slipped into the water and shivered as the cool liquid hit her. She swam out where the otters were spread before the submarine, awaiting orders.

"Alright cum bait, just the basics!" said the male otter leader "Protect your hoses, the sure fire way to keep you safe in the water. on land, well, expect everything from more projectiles, knives and even traps. Focus fire and keep to the shallows then go in as one."

The otters nodded and headed out. No doubt they were going to run into some underwater resistance.

Meanwhile, knowing that their comrades had long since fallen, the surviving team of all-male avians on land were setting up their defences, determined to prevent the otters from capturing the island.

"Quickly!" they whispered to one another, eager to dig in before the otters had time to approach the shores of the island.

All clad in their standard royal blue leotards and speedos, the various avian species had also established a small camp further inland where they were discussing strategy and setting up a forward base from where to coordinate their defence. Speedo and leotard-clad avians were rushing to and fro as they got ready for the coming battle.

"This is gonna be a tough one," said one leotard-clad hawk to his superior. "what with all our losses, that is."

The two were kneeling on the edge of a cliff, just above the foliage of the tropical jungle below. Behind them their forward base was being set up.

"Don't focus on the negative. Just make sure you're ready..." responded his robin superior, his high-cut speedo already tenting with excitement for the upcoming conflict.

Kneeling proudly, the dignified robin lifted a set of binoculars to his eyes, brushing the tool against his feathered chest, expecting to see otters storming the many beaches in no time.

"Let's hope this works..." said the robin, the new leader of the avians what with the defeat of Grane. "Hopefully the creatures in Despair Reef will eat well tonight." he said, noticing the sun slowly beginning to set. He estimated there would be about an hour of daylight left before they would be forced to use night-vision and torches.

At the beaches, a team of ten avians, led by a speedo-clad bat, were charging into the water. Their plan was to compel the otters to attack a specific side of the island where their area of entry would force them to go through both the most solid avian defence, and the renowned Dark Pass, a deep crack in the earth falling away to blackness. Deep below, a myriad of giant insects and other monstrous creatures hungered to feed on the cum of those that happened to fall or walk in.

The brown bat and his team of ten avians were readying their harpoons as they steadied themselves in the water. As soon as the otters approached, they would fight until five or so remain, then fall back to the designated beach, hopefully with the otters in chase. On the way to the beach, the otters would be forced to go through Despair Reef, a rocky reef filled with all manner of cum-hungry octopi, seals, giant crabs, and even small fish. Few divers have been able to traverse that underwater terrain without spending a day or two as the guest of one of the residents. Those otters that make it through would be forced to land on the most well defended beach on the island, followed by Dark Pass. Only knowledge of the underwater terrain allowed the bat's team to safely reach the location where the otters were most likely to approach, so as to avoid Despair Reef.

The powerful eagle groaned as the two otter assistants restrained him, his eyelids feeling like heavy weights.

In a few moments he was strapped to the brainwashing machine. He was on his back, held up in the air by an apparatus that pushed up against his spine at an awkward angle. His strong body was bent like a bow that was ready to be fired, with his head hanging back, almost upside-down. His arms and legs were tightly secured in strong metallic shackles.

Once he was fully restrained, one of the assistants gave Grane a brief grope through his high-cut speedo before leaving to secure other avians to their contraptions.

"Well, aren't you a mighty one?" said the head technician otter, slowly walking up between Grane's restrained and spread legs.

Still experiencing the effects of the sedative chemicals, the eagle could only groan in frustration as he tried in vain to move his arms and legs.

"Let's take this off..." said the otter, unbuckling Grane's chest piece and removing it, exposing his buff chest. He then placed the piece of armour on a nearby table.

The otter then returned to between the toned legs of the former avian leader, his subject still groaning out his protests in his stupor. The otter enjoyed every moment of Grane's weak protests as he moved his paws to caress the eagle's inner thighs, slowly trailing them up to brush against his bulging speedo and onto his abdomen.

"Well, let's get to work, shall we?" said the otter, shaking off his admiration for the eagle's physique.

The otter snapped his fingers and his two assistants placed some kind of helmet over Grane's head, firmly securing it in place. They then proceeded to connect several wires to it. The helmet completely obscured Grane's view, leaving a few little air holes to supply oxygen through to his beak. The assistants then set to work on the nearby control panel. Pulling a lever. The brainwashing process began.

Grane's helmet, and those of all the other captive avians, were filled with imagery and subliminal messages that slowly reshaped his mind into one of absolute obedience to their new warlord. To complement this, the pleasure centres of their brains were stimulated in conjunction with erotic imagery in order to cause the subjects to associate servitude with pleasure. This resulted in bringing the subjects to orgasm during the process 100% of the time.

Grane was in for a long, pleasurable brainwashing.

The amassed armies of the otters saw the ten avians coming from the island. It was strange for them to see this few divers coming for them. They expected more resistance.

The avians fired their harpoons in the general direction of the otters, sniping a couple of them, a male and female. The avians then swam quickly in the opposite direction. The male and female otter doubled over almost immediately as they were hit, the first casualties of the battle; their speedo and leotard-clad bodies glistening as they took in the last rays of the day. They bucked their hips and clawed at their wounds only to fall in silent defeat after their climax.

A large portion of the otters took off after the avians which shot at their comrades over the sea bed. The more experienced otters did their best to keep their younger and more hot blooded kin from following them. They eventually decided to follow close behind, but more wary knowing this could very well be a trap.

The otters hot on their trail, the bat and his four surviving allies headed straight for Despair Reef, slowly descending to the sea bed as they fired the last of their ammunition into the approaching otters.

Here and there, colourful aquatic plants, anemones and sponges sat on the sea bed, in addition to a few underwater ruins and columns. However, there was an unsettling darkness that came from the many, many sinkholes that dotted the aquatic landscape, descending into blackness. Not to mention the many other areas for large predators to hide away, ready to snatch their prey at a moment's notice.

The speedo-clad bat needed only to get through in one piece. The few numbers of the avians compared to the large quantity of otters in pursuit would likely reduce the avian casualties, ensuring maximum casualties for the otters.

The younger otters zipped between rocks, becoming hard to hit with their natural speed. One otter swam right over a menacingly dark sinkhole only to have his Lycra clad legs grabbed by what looked like tentacles. He screamed out his surprise as he was pulled unceremoniously into the hole. The groaning of the young otter continued as he was caressed by the unknown sea creature. Both of his fins and his mask were seen floating up from the hole along with his entire intact speedo. Otters cautiously peered down in the hole, not seeing what exactly grabbed their teammate, but finally realising this was a trap.

Realising by now the otters were starting to encounter the dangers of Despair Reef, the young bat couldn't help but smile.

Suddenly he felt something latch onto his ankle: a giant crab claw! It was pulling him into a dark expanse under a large rock, no doubt where it would be feasting on him for quite some time. One leotard-clad member of the avian team, a crow, noticed the bat was in trouble and immediately doubled back to assist him. His black feathers glistened in the water as he launched himself towards his helpless comrade.

Being pulled down, the bat couldn't help be grunt and shriek softly as the huge appendage pulled him into the dark alcove, when the young crow slammed into the huge claw, knocking it off of the bat's ankle. However, before they could both flee, the claw took the opportunity to grab at the crow, easily snatching him up and pulling him into the darkness in place of the bat. The frightened bat only let out a soft yelp.

Deciding he couldn't afford to spend any time trying to free the crow, he opted to get the others out while he still could. The bat turned around and continued heading for the beach with his fellow avians, hoping the otters would follow. He felt guilty that he had to leave his ally behind.

Meanwhile, under the dark alcove, the huge crab's giant mandibles opened wide, where even more small, writhing mandibles protruded to seize the young crow by the crotch of his leotard, immediately rubbing him through the royal blue fabric. It took only seconds before the expert stimulation turned him hard inside his swimsuit, moaning as the crab had its way with him.

It was quite obvious to the otters by now that the entire area was one huge feeding pit for the denizens of the reef, but they were too far in to back out now. The large otter army continued through the maze of holes, sand and rock outcroppings, determined to avoid being captured. The older otters shook their heads as the younger ones charged through quickly and fearfully. They had heard rumours about Despair Reef, some having even fought here before. One such older otter recalled the time he was captured by an octopus, trapped for a few days before being let go and retrieved by a patrol. It was a scary experience for him at first but he had come to enjoy the experience and the location during the few battles fought over this reef.

Now over half-way through Despair Reef, the bat and his three remaining comrades took the time to look back, watching as the many inhabitants of the reef came out of hiding due to the heightened activity, slowly dragging away otters down to the darkness below. The bat couldn't help but become hard in his speedo at the sight of young otters being grabbed by various octopus tentacles. It took all his willpower to force himself to look away from the approaching otters as they struggled to safely navigate the treacherous reef in their large numbers, but evidently, it was no easy task and the creatures below were all coming out to play.

Finally bringing himself to turn and face his fellow avians, the bat and his team continued on their way, when a shoal of long eels swam up to a young woodpecker, wrapping him up neatly, then dragging him off into a dark hole in the ground. It all happened so fast, they didn't have any time to even react, their ally snatched away in the blink of an eye by the lightning fast eels.

"Keep moving!" the bat yelled into his mask's radio, urging his fellow avians towards the drop-off of the reef.

Deep beneath the surface, the darkness surrounding the young woodpecker was illuminated by two lights in front of him. All his limbs held firmly in place by the eels, one of them had swirling, glowing eyes! Unthinking, the young woodpecker locked eyes with the eel as it stared at him. Before he knew it, he was unable to look away, lost in some kind of trance. He didn't even moan as the tail of an eel wrapped itself around the crotch of his blue leotard and began rubbing him fiercely. Slowly the eels relaxed their grip and allowed their prey to drift to the sandy ground. All the eels except the one locking eyes with him swam under his leotard, trailing over his sensitive body. One placed its mouth over the young avian's arousal and immediately began consuming his seed. The only light came from the eyes of the eel above him, forcing his mind into contentedness to allow them to do with him as they pleased.

Dotting the sandy ground, large crabs with huge writhing mandibles and massive claws were trailing all over the place. If any of the bat's team were to be taken, it could take days before all these crabs would be able to have their fill, but they couldn't swim up out of the reef or else the otters would surely follow, ruining the plan to reduce their numbers. Under the circumstances, the bat and his team were expendable. All that mattered was taking down as many otters as possible.

Squeals, screams and moans were all coming from the otters as their diver army traversed the reef. Each one caused another otter to not pay attention and become a victim him or herself.

"Dangit! Why don't they just come out and fight?" one of the female otters said as she navigated the space. "I'd rather cum to them than these things!"

Her finned feet kicked in her body hugging skin-suit. Seeing her comrades fall by the wayside made her horny as heck and part of her wanted to join them, but she was focused on one thing: to make a few of the remaining avians cum in their tight leotards and speedos.

Beside her, another female otter in a leotard was swimming with the same determination as her. They came to an area of very large long rock tubes. It was an area even the other creatures avoided. The otter leaned up against one of the rock formations, tired.

This seemed to disturb the creature inside as it raised up half of its body out of the sand beneath and silently wrapped a thick tendril around the her chest, lifting her as her bare legs kicked wildly. The long creature gently squeezed its new victim as she screamed in fright. Other creatures began to emerge as they looked to see what the commotion was about. A nearby eel put its mouth over the trapped girl's groin and began to caress her nether regions with its snake-like tongue. She squealed in frightened delight as she was led past the point of no return as she came for the creatures.

"I'm getting out of here," the other otter girl said, moments before having her left leg become entangled by a smaller long creature.

As she was lifted up, another long eel wrapped itself around her head, blocking her vision. She too was about to become an orgasmic feast.

Wonderfully arousing imagery of scuba divers writhing in pleasure as they climaxed flashed in front of Grane's eyes inside the helmet. He was already hard within the tight confines of his high-cut speedo, tenting the smooth fabric. To make matters worse, the chief technician had placed his hand on the bulge between Grane's legs, gently fondling him through the royal blue material. Grane's moans were muffled, but could still be heard behind the helmet.

"It's a shame this will probably be the only time you'll be here..." said the otter, solemnly, standing between Grane's legs as he stimulated his subject with his paws.

Grane's libido was out of control, his body and mind both begging for more and more pleasure and ultimate release while the screen inside the helmet continued to rearrange his mind into one of absolute obedience to his new warlord. This is how it was for all others who are brainwashed, and other otters were enjoying themselves fondling the speedo and leotard-clad bulges of the avians, some even gossiping and chatting while they worked. While the head otter's attention was focused on pleasuring Grane, some mischievous otters had taken it upon themselves to reprogram one of the other contraptions to program one particular avian with absolute obedience to them as well as their warlord, eager to have their own personal avian slave.

"Mmmmph..." moaned Grane, heavenly ecstasy slowly washing over him as the otter continued to softly massage the eagle's bulge, but with slowly increasing intensity.

"Shhhh..." responded the otter, his voice soothing. "Your reign as a champion of these games is over. Now is the time to relax, let your mind go blank as we change you. Submit to the pleasure..."

Grane was already gently bucking his hips, although the restraints kept his movements to a minimum. The fruits of the otter's labours became evident as a small damp spot appeared on the front of Grane's bulging speedo as the eagle began to profusely leak pre-cum into the confines of the particularly skimpy swimsuit.

"That's right..." continued the otter, feeling the damp spot on the avian's speedo. "Cum for us. Do not resist. Soil your speedo for your new warlord!"

The drop-off! The reef suddenly descended steeply into a shallow underwater desert. In the distance, the sea bed rose where it met the beach.

"Finally! Let's get out of here, guys!" said the bat, relieved to be free from Despair Reef. With only three of them left, he was more than satisfied to know that, if the otters got him, he'd at least cum in the shallow waters or amid the jungle on land, as opposed to the dark tunnels far below where a myriad of creatures hungry for their fluids fed on their prey. All they had to do now was reach the beach and join their defence before the otters could get them.

Turning around, they swam backwards towards the beach, each one bringing out one spare projectile for their harpoons, loading their weapons and preparing to fire at the otters that would likely soon be emerging from the reef. Out here in the open, the avians would be easy targets, so the bat and his team weren't going down without a fight, but the speedo-clad bat still held onto the hope that him and his two teammates might reach land before they fell to the harpoons of the otters.

As the otters began to emerge from the reef, the avians fired, and a skin-suited otter boy was immediately met with a harpoon to his chest. He screamed out as the lance took him in his chest. His Lycra clad legs quivered with the oncoming orgasm he was about to experience as he fall back against the sandy bottom. He at least smiled knowing he wasn't going to become fish food, literally. He bucked his hips and came in the suit with a little of his otter seed filtered through, marking his passing with a small cloud of white as he lost consciousness.

More and more otters began to rise from Despair Reef and saw the retreating enemy divers. A female otter rushed towards them, firing her harpoon gun at one of the avians.

"You fiends!" she yelled.

Noticing the determined otter girl firing at them with her harpoon, the speedo-clad bat twisted his body awkwardly to avoid the incoming projectile, barely grazing his fur as it passed. He suddenly heard the cry of a fellow avian. Turning around, he saw the projectile had hit one of his two allies, an eagle, on his lower abdomen, right below his naval. Without even thinking, the bat rushed towards his friend as the eagle began filling his royal blue leotard with his seed, thrusting his hips in the water. Catching hold of his climaxing friend, the bat continued swimming towards the beach with the eagle in tow, their talons scraping against the sand as they neared the surface of the water.

"I'm not leaving you behind, not after what we've been through!" the bat said into his mask, but his friend was already unconscious.

In moments they arrived on the shore. The other survivor, a pigeon, assisted his team leader in dragging their fallen comrade up the beach. No doubt they didn't have long before the otters came storming up the sands, so they put all their effort into reaching the foliage and underbrush of the jungle. Inside, their fellow avians were waiting with a few piles of ammunition for their harpoons. There weren't too many, but they didn't have many to spare, considering they were all guarding the other beaches as well in the event that the otters never took the bait, but it was still the most well-defended beach.

"They're coming!" yelled one of the avians in the jungle upon seeing the approaching bat and his diminished team.

The avians on duty aimed their harpoons on the water, eager to see some more otters cream their swimsuits. One radioed in the news to the new avian leader, still kneeling at the edge of a cliff further inland.

"Alright, send reinforcements!" the robin yelled into the radio, with the intention of pulling forces from the other beaches to reinforce the one where the bat had come ashore.

The remaining otters began to float near the surface and just a few feet from the beach. Still they had a sizeable army of divers left but the Reef did take a toll on the younger members of their group.

"Alright, some of you are gonna get hit, no doubt about that." said the otter leader. "Just keep going forward till you see some cover and dive behind that. Remember to keep your masks and hoses on because they'll likely have traps which will lead you to more water, safety reasons. Just keep going forward and we'll take the island."

The otters nodded and looked towards the beach. An otter girl was the first to break the surface and put her first fin prints into the sand and was greeted by a harpoon to her chest. She grunted and fell backwards into the water to be taken out to sea by the tide. She humped and gyrated her hips in the open air and began to sink back down in the water. The last thing to be seen of her was her fins and bare legs kicking as she experienced her climax and passed out.

More otters followed onto the beach with a couple more being harpooned to land face first in the sand or sinking back into the water. They rushed forward, seeking any sort of cover and began to fire into the trees, hopefully to get a few hits.

The bat and his two friends had barely reached the safety of the jungle when the first otters began to storm the beach, harpoons firing left and right. Laying their fallen friend down by a palm tree, the bat and his fellow avian turned their attention on the approaching otters, tearing off their masks and fins. Kneeling down behind a few logs and bushes placed here and there, they reloaded their harpoons with ammunition and fired away. The unconscious eagle was still pumping his leotard full of cum, ruining his already strained swimsuit.

Despite the losses of the otters, the avians were still taking a few hits from harpoons fired wildly into the underbrush. It wouldn't be long before they'd have to start retreating towards Dark Pass.

The otters had landed their divers on the beach now and it was tough going towards the tree line. A brave young otter boy took two harpoons as he plodded towards the avians but he fell short of his goal as he fell forward. Turning onto his back, he bucked his hips up and down, climaxing before the horny avians, his skin-suited body performing for them. In a few moments, he simply became a source of cover for his allies.

The otters had enough of this and rushed en masse towards the front line with a couple more otters taking hits and falling.

One speedo-clad otter boy was fighting a jayhawk by the jungle but was pushed down on the ground, his eyes wide behind his mask. The otter's member in his speedo was hard and slightly pushing up the material. The jayhawk was holding the otter down by his arms, making him feel dominated and vulnerable.

"No... not now... not this close to our goal..." he squeaked as he continued fighting the leotard-clad jayhawk.

Upon hearing his pleas, the jayhawk only grinned, quickly moving an arm to retrieve his knife from where he holstered it under the side of his leotard. He was about to slice the knife across the otter's belly when a harpoon struck him square in the chest. Falling forward onto the otter beneath him, he bucked his hips as he climaxed, filling his dry leotard with his warm cum on the sunlit beach. In a few moments, the jayhawk was freed from the waking world as he lay atop his enemy.

"Well, I was lucky that time..." the young otter said as he pushed the bird off of him gently.

The sun was rapidly nearing the horizon and the sky was turning orange. The remaining avians looked up, realising that the time was right to retreat. The darkness, combined with their knowledge of the island's terrain, would add only further difficulty to the cause of the otters.

"Retreat!" yelled an random avian.

Quickly they began to pull back, running deep into the darkening jungle with the moon slowly rising on the opposite side of the horizon from the sun, which would no doubt illuminate the island in its silver light.

Dismayed, the poor bat knew it was unlikely they could have fought off all the otters here. Firing one last harpoon into the otters storming up the beach, he knelt down before the leotard-clad eagle that lay unconscious by the palm tree where he had placed him.

"Sorry, pal. We won't let those otters win!" he said.

Picking up a few more spears of ammunition, the bat rushed off into the jungle, leaving behind their fallen avian comrades, swiftly avoiding the many traps they had lain throughout the foliage.

With the incredibly arousing imagery invading his visual senses, in addition to the blissful massage through his high-cut speedo, Grane's orgasm was only seconds away. A powerful pressure was building up inside him, desperate to let itself free into the slick royal blue fabric as the sadistic otter technician masturbated him.

His mind was swimming with thoughts of devotion to the former enemy warlord. Every last piece of the proud eagle's humiliation of his defeat had whittled away, replaced with an eagerness to serve his new leader.

As the reprogramming of Grane's mind rapidly neared completion, pouring the last pieces of information into him, he could hold it no longer and a massive explosion of intense pleasure washed over him, rising up from his loins. Thick quantities of his seed flew into his skimpy swimwear, immediately noticed by the otter technician as the blue fabric moistened and darkened. A great deal of the thick fluid began to seep through and onto the otter's paw.

"That's right..." he said, urging the eagle on as his climax shattered his strong avian body.

Grane's feathers shook as his muscles tightened, his orgasm draining every bit of energy from him. As his mind went blank, his consciousness drowning in bliss and ecstasy, the brainwashing fully sank in, solidifying his new role as a combatant of the warlord whose divers had defeated him.

Finally his powerful climax had finished. Warm avian cum was dripping onto the floor below, as it was with the other avians strapped into their own contraptions. Four assistants approached and unlatched Grane's helmet, only to discover he had passed out from the sheer pleasure of his ordeal. The assistants quickly removed the restraints and carried him onto a cot that they rolled up against a wall next to other cots, each with spent avians lying atop them, their leotards and speedos utterly soaked.

"Well done, Grane..." said the head technician, walking up to Grane's cot and placing his paw on the eagle's soaked speedo, gently rubbing over it. "I was very impressed with that climax, and I'm sure our warlord will be as well. He's requested your presence in his quarters. He would very much like to play with you himself."

The otter removed his paw from the soaking speedo and ran it up to Grane's abdomen, trailing circles around his belly. He then leaned in to whisper into his ear: "So wake up soon, my sweet eagle. You're not done cumming yet."