FSE

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The famed bounty hunter Travis Quickshot returned to base in a blaze of glory: onlookers cheered the cocky cross fox as he swaggered in with the weapons of a dozen feared Insurgency lieutenants tied in a sack over his muscular back

At least, that's how Tyler pictured it in his head.

In reality, Tyler was a college junior, trying out the latest VR RPG craze "The Legion of the Citadel" in his tiny apartment. The fox had just completed his fifth damn fetch quest (Seriously, every one of those damn lieutenants was carrying a weapon, so why was the drop rate one in ten?) and was returning to the quest hub to get his reward. Arkan Base 1 was a frontier outpost in-game, a starting quest zone, but it was sparsely populated: five NPCs and maybe twenty players, all but one of which was AFK, their models standing stock still.

Tyler wasn't too surprised. "The Legion of the Citadel," like so many of its type, offered players the choice of two opposing factions, but where the Insurgency was based around gameplay, signing up with the Citadel forces meant a more story-focused experience. Needless to say, all of Tyler's friends -- and seemingly the entire gaming community -- had joined the Insurgency right away. Oh well. Tyler planned to have lots of fun without them.

Tyler, as Travis Quickshot, sauntered up to the quest-giver and the fox sat back to watch the cutscene played out. He knew most of his friends would skip right past it. "Just give me the loot," they'd say. But this was what he wanted.

In his apartment, Tyler was crammed between his bed and computer desk in an oversized plush chair that, unfortunately in the summer heat, didn't breathe worth a damn. Between that and the A/C unit clanking and sputtering in its likely last month of life, Tyler had settled in to game in nothing but a pair of white boxers on over his mostly black fur. He lifted the VR visor just long enough to pull up a water bottle and take a long drink of the icy-cool water.

Then he let the cutscene play out in full. "The Legion of the Citadel" was set in a dark future after a post-apocalyptic event led the remnants of sapient life to form a new society around the Citadel, a secret society set in an eponymous building which held almost dictatorial powers. A scrappy, young Insurgency was fighting back in the name of freedom. The current questline was supposed to take the player on a journey from a bounty hunter on the fringe of society to a place in the hallowed halls of power deep within the Citadel, with intricate backstory and lore all the way. Tyler loved it.

The cutscene was over too soon though, and he reached out to flick the "accept reward" button. As soon as he did, a tingle ran down his spine, pleasure emanating out from deep within him. The feeling was so unexpected, Tyler reached out and yanked the VR headset right off, wincing just a little as it disconnected from the neural port in the back of his neck.

The fox sat there shivering despite the intense summer heat. After taking a few calming breaths he reached back and touched the ports. Had they really done that? Weak sensations were occasionally allowed by games publishers, allowing you to feel like you had bumped into a wall or the jolt of a rifle in your arms, but things like pleasure or pain were closely regulated and nearly impossible to get permits for.

Hot damn, that was cool!

Part of him couldn't wait to hop back into the game and complete another quest, but as he glanced down, he noticed a tent in his boxers. Apparently the jolt of pleasure had been quite effective. He grinned and before getting back to gaming, he reached down and pawed off to a quick, messy climax.

* * *

A week later, Travis Quickshot was working for shady crimelords in the slums on the outskirts of The Great City. The Citadel itself gleamed in the distance, a gigantic spire that must have been 200 stories tall at least, jutting out from the center of the city like an obsidian dagger. It cast its long shadow all the way down to where Travis himself was, in a makeshift outdoor saloon that the locals drowned their sorrows in. Travis, having earned a bit of reputation through several long quests, had caught the eye of a female squirrel whom Tyler was pretty sure was an agent of the Citadel secret police. She was smooth-talking her way into Travis's graces, trying to get him to do a few jobs for her now too. "The Citadel," she said, "would make it worth his while."

Tyler grinned in his apartment. He had come to know what those words had meant over the last few days. Those were what signaled a reward of pleasure along with the other quest rewards.

He had also come to learn a few other things. The pleasure-reward quests were time-limited: only one allowed per day. They were also keyed to major story arcs for the Citadel. He guessed that served a double-purpose. It stretched out the content and it got around the regulations concerning psychological consequences by only giving the pleasure every twenty-four hours.

The first day or two, Tyler got a hard-on from the pleasure and the fox quickly logged out so he could jerk off. By the third day, he'd started sporting an erection the moment he saw the key phrase being used. By the fifth day, he was getting hard the moment he logged in. The fox had been playing for the last hour or so trying not to grind his hips so his swollen sheath would rub up against the soft fabric of his boxers. Now that he'd seen the code-phrase used, his shaft was pushing out fully, knot forming, all pressed up against the elastic band and begging for attention.

His tail wagged in excitement. He checked the possible in-game responses, and then the fox's eyes went wide. One of the possible responses was "Obedience before all," the motto of the Citadel itself. The fact that it was presented as an option meant he was getting deeper into the true Citadel storyline. He chose it without hesitation.

The fox avatar of Travis Quickshot leant over the table and whispered the motto conspiratorially to the squirrel, whose eyes lit up in surprise but she quickly recovered. A moment later, the camera panned out towards the nearby street. A commotion was going on.

Tyler sat up straighter in his seat, wondering if using the motto had set off a special cutscene.

The people in the street were reacting to something, running out of the way. And a moment later Tyler saw what they were fleeing: a Citadel legion.

Twenty latex-clad soldier drones stood in four rows, each of them nearly anonymous under their uniforms. Identical black covered them all from the neck down with silver highlights that ran like circuitry along their bodies. Their heads were helmeted with a blacked-out visor covering their face and the only way to tell who they were underneath was by the muzzle sticking out in front and the shape of the tail under the black. A top-quality pulse laser rifle was held at the ready in their hands. All of them were expressionless, focused on performing their duty to the Citadel.

And in the midst of them all was a Citadel legionnaire. He wore armor that looked like a mix between fantasy plate armor and sci-fi chrome polished to a mirror shine, with thick epaulets that trailed down a sweeping black cloak around his form. His face was half-hidden under a draconic mask, but the part that was showing was a strong and mighty stallion, his battle-hardened face cut by a few scars and sporting a silvery beard down to his chest that was braided and interwoven with bits of jet-black jewelry.

Tyler barely noticed the tremor of pleasure that flowed through his headset, unaccompanied by the completion of a quest. Nor did he notice the slight graphical glitch and flickering on the legionnaire's breastplate. But as soon as the cutscene ended, the fox tore the system off and masturbated to the thought of that legionnaire bending him over his bed and fucking him hard.

* * *

Three days later, Travis Quickshot, now truly a famed bounty hunter, was receiving a special commendation from the Citadel. He had assisted them by double-crossing the lawless crimelord who ruled the outer slums and restored order and prosperity (or at least order) to the whole of the Great City. The cutscene that followed featured Travis on one knee, bowing before the legionnaire Tyler had fixated on previously. The mask was set to one side, and the stallion's serious expression bore down onto the fox. As the legionnaire related to the crowd (who consisted only of similarly kneeling soldier-drones and those with some influence in the Citadel proper) Travis Quickshot's numerous accomplishments and acts in the name of the Citadel, Tyler dropped the controls entirely and was busy stroking himself, one hand squeezing his knot in raw desire.

Up close like this, he could see the effort that had been put into the legionnaire. His body seemed to be chiseled out of marble, strong and sturdy. Every piece of armor on his chrome-gauntleted hand and every strand of his mane seemed to be individually rendered. The cloak flowed as he walked with real physics. He looked almost perfect except for that continuing graphical glitch on his chest plate. When Tyler concentrated hard on it, he thought he could just make out words flickering into and out of existence in fractions of a second, but the longer he stared, the more his arousal grew and distracted him.

As the legionnaire droned on about the services Travis Quickshot had performed, Tyler's mind wasn't on the beautiful graphics. Instead, his eyes were fixated on the piece of plate armor situated over the stallion's hips, wondering if they'd included those details as well. The fox rubbed his shaft and mentally undressed the stallion

Tyler's hips jerked and he felt his seed splatter onto his chest in a sudden unexpected climax. The fox sagged into his seat and groaned in pleasure, his mind fuzzy from the afterglow. It seemed as though the legionnaire had him under a spell since he first appeared, and now free of it he could let his eyes wander the room to see the other details. Not that there were many.

Travis Quickshot was almost completely surrounded by the drone-soldiers, kneeling respectfully before their legionnaire. He hadn't seen them very well in the earlier cutscene. Now he was looking at them up close. Besides the differences in stature and the muzzles poking out from under their helmets, they all seemed identical. They even seemed to be breathing in time.

Tyler chuckled to himself as he noticed for the first time that the bulge at their hips was perhaps a little more prominent than it really needed to be. Maybe all of them, like himself, were thinking about what lay under the legionnaire's clothes.

"We thank you again for what you have done," the legionnaire said loudly, snapping Tyler's attention back to the stallion. The stallion had his back straight and stared straight ahead into the depths of the room. As one, the soldier-drones stood and mimicked the posture with Travis Quickshot catching on and following a moment later. "Obedience before all," the legionnaire declared, fist against his chest.

The soldier-drones and Travis all saluted back. "Obedience before all," they said in unison.

A burst of pleasure slipped into Tyler's system and having already climaxed, all he could do was rub whimpering at his sheath as carnal desire swept through him once more.

* * *

The next few days saw Travis Quickshot working through the massive facilities that just surrounded the Citadel proper, solving problems, fetching tools, fighting vermin, and quashing the Insurgency. Tyler kept hoping that the questline would take him back to the hot as fuck legionnaire, but instead it kept him out here.

At least the game seemed to have sped up some. Rather than spacing out key bits of content once a day, now Tyler was passing major questlines three or so times a day, with a reward of pleasure for each. Every time, he would masturbate afterwards, thinking of the legionnaire. He couldn't remember the last time he'd jerked off so much. Thank goodness his stamina was keeping up with the game.

But at that moment, Tyler was bored. The fox had his chin propped up by his arm, sagging into the side of the chair as he was given a guided tour of the "barracks" that the soldier-drones were stored in. It was rich and detailed lore, but what it wasn't was getting Travis Quickshot back in the presence of the legionnaire. And Tyler was sure it would be at least another two hours of questing before he got another burst of pleasure. He sighed and shifted a bit in his seat, unused to gaming in the nude but finding it far more reasonable with how much he was masturbating.

His tour guide was a low-level functionary, a vixen who might have really caught the cross fox's eye any day that he wasn't obsessing over the stallion. "And this is the central conditioning unit," she was saying, pointing to a large computer mainframe, "where we deliver controlled bursts of pleasure to our drones."

That caught his attention. "Controlled bursts of pleasure?" he wanted to ask. That was the same sort of thing he was receiving.

But it seemed like the game knew that would be the direction he wanted to steer the conversation. Travis Quickshot asked more about that.

"Our soldier-drones are heavily mentally conditioned to do only what we say and only when we say it," the vixen went on. "They are true embodiments of the idea of 'obedience before all.' In fact, by this point, they are so obedient that we rarely need to give them pleasure at all. They're usually quite starved for it."

Travis Quickshot crossed his arms and flicked his tail, flashing a slightly seductive smile that made Tyler's eyes roll. "Doesn't sound like such a good deal to me," he said. "Who'd sign up for that? I'd think you'd want to keep them euphoric."

The vixen shook her head with the air of someone having to lecture a small child. "Absolutely not. Euphoric drones would simply be basking in the pleasure all the time, utterly useless. As to who they are, many of them are former Insurgency soldiers."

Travis, like Tyler, gaped openmouthed.

"It's quite true." The vixen said. "We start with incredible doses of pleasure, addict them to it, and then slowly ratchet the amount down and down, only rewarding them with pleasure for more and more levels of obedience until they can't think of doing anything but obeying. Many of them have gone a month or more without direct pleasure stimulation. Some, by now, a year. Constantly craving to be more obedient so they will... eventually... receive the pleasure." She giggled lightly with the implication that she had no intention of giving any pleasure unless it was absolutely necessary.

The conversation went on for a while, with Tyler eventually tuning them back out. When it ended, the vixen handed Travis Quickshot a set of instructions.

There the graphics must have glitched again. The message was phasing in and out in short, seizure-inducing flickers. Every time he thought he could read a word, it vanished just before he could process it. It frustrated Tyler so much that rather than continue playing, he logged out. Besides, he wanted to process the conversation he had just listened to.

He wondered if all of this was the key immersive factor of the game: he was receiving doses of pleasure just like the soldier-drones were, although his were nowhere near as euphoric as the vixen had described. Maybe the ultimate goal of the questline was for his character to become a soldier-drone? That didn't sound as exciting as being a Citadel enforcer or legionnaire. But maybe...

Tyler glanced down over his naked form. His shaft was standing at full mast, knot at the ready, and dripping precum into his fur. He chuckled to himself and wrapped his fingers around it, beginning to stroke.

Now, if there were a real euphoria, it would be orgasm.

Tyler let his thoughts drift a bit as he ran his hand up and down his unlubed shaft gently. It didn't take much stimulation before the desire began to build and his hips began to flex forward into his touch.

And then a thought occurred to him: if the game was aiming for immersion, why not play along with that? Instead of constantly being rewarded with big bursts of orgasmic pleasure, maybe he should try going without for a few days. He had been masturbating an awful lot lately and maybe lowering his pleasure would lead to a more immersive experience. And give his aching cock a break.

"Yeah," he said aloud, a little surprised at the sound of his own voice, "I should play along."

"Play along," he repeated, not sure where the words were coming from, but agreeing to them all the same.

* * *

Tyler's orgasmic denial had the desired effect. The next time he logged in, he was much more focused and found himself constantly searching for questlines that would take him deeper into the lore of the Citadel and hopefully reward him with a burst of pleasure. He found three the first day, five the next, and six the day after. Each time the pleasure would run through him, even though it was no more intense than before, it nevertheless felt so much more intense. His body would quiver. His tail would curl around his hips and twitch. His dripping permanently-half-hard cock would throb to the beat of his heart and drool even pre over his fur. His hands would ache to let go of the controls and give himself just a few strokes (only a few, he told himself) to push himself over the edge, but each time he reminded himself he was just playing along. It was enhancing the experience.

Tyler found himself needing to clean his bellyfur out several times a day, and when he went to bed, he was grinding against the sheets while promising himself he wouldn't cum. When he woke up with an aching erection and vague remembrances of sensual dreams, he promised himself that he wouldn't let this go on too much longer. It was fun, but this was getting out of hand. The next time he got close to the legionnaire in game, he would jerk off. He swore he would.

And that, he found, made things much easier. The fox's shaft spent most of its time drooling into his fur, but the burning desire was soothed. He had a goal now, and so long as he focused on that, the constant desire was actually rather enjoyable.

Tyler gave an actual whoop loud enough to shock his neighbors when, later that day, a questline informed him that the stallion legionnaire had taken special notice of his recent work and he might be in line for another commendation. The next few hours were a blur. Tyler did quest after quest. He took down Insurgency soldiers; he fetched goods from the market; he slew mutated beasts in the sewers; he even did three separate, pain-stakingly slow escort quests -- all of it with a smile on his face.

When the cutscene started to play, Tyler immediately put down the controls and wrapped a hand around his needy shaft. He started stroking the instant the legionnaire came into view.

And, was it just him, or was the legionnaire wearing even less this time?

Yes, yes he was.

The legionnaire still had on the epaulets and cloak and armor from the waist down, but his chest now was bare, clad only in the compact musculature of the warrior stallion. Tyler bit his lip, salivating. "Thank you, programmers," he whispered to himself as he stroked faster.

The ceremony was much shorter this time, skipping almost all the formalities. Yes, Travis Quickshot was still kneeling, surrounded by the soldier-drones, but the legionnaire skipped through the details what the bounty hunter had accomplished quite quickly. "Only the most obedient to our cause rise to become our most honored citizens. And you have shown great obedience," the legionnaire intoned.

Whenever the legionnaire said "obedience" all Tyler could think of was the time after time he had denied himself orgasm. He grinned and stroked faster.

And then a dialogue option popped up.

Tyler rolled his eyes. What timing. And it was blocking his view of the legionnaire too. He sighed and reached for the controls as he looked through the options.

One was "Say nothing." Okay. Boring but okay.

One was "Obedience before all." That reminded his hindbrain of the bolts of pleasure and his shaft gave an involuntary twitch, almost going over the edge without any further stimulation.

And the last was "I only desire to be even more obedient to the Citadel's will."

He paused and considered that. His shaft throbbed for attention, but the message kept staying in his brain. "Even more obedient," he said aloud and thought about his neglected shaft. Could he go even longer? He could try, certainly. And it had been an amazing experience.

He steeled his courage, clenched his free hand so he wouldn't be tempted to stroke, and chose the last option.

Immediately a swelling burst of pleasure ran down his spine and Tyler had to grip the fur of his thighs tight in his hands to prevent himself from stroking along with it. The fox was dancing on the edge for a moment, and quaked as he came down from that euphoric high, looking up into the eyes of the legionnaire who was telling him, "I think you'll go far in the Citadel."

And Tyler knew it was true.

* * *

The next week Tyler didn't do anything but eat, sleep, shower, chat with friends, and game. By the following Friday, he'd earned another audience with the legionnaire, and although his balls ached to release, he once again chose the option to be "even more obedient" knowing it would mean even longer with climax.

After that, his friends stopped trying to get him to play with them. He had been absorbed completely into the game.

One more week and he was barely sensate to anything outside of the game, sleeping in short fitful bursts and wolfing down a day's worth of food in a single minute.

One more week and he was logged in even as he slept in the chair, his eyes occasionally opening and flickering over the messages that whispered their way into his mind. Then he woke, cleared the drool from his chin and the precum from his belly, and started playing again.

When he was brought before the legionnaire once again, he felt like kneeling before him in real life just as he was in the game. The stallion was now totally naked except for the dragon mask, which he wore over his face as a symbol of his absolute authority. The position Travis Quickshot was in, put his muzzle directly level with the stallion's slowly stiffening shaft, and Tyler didn't blink when the game asked for button prompts to start fellating it.

"Obedience before all," the stallion reiterated, as the fox's lips slipped down the immense girth. "But especially before me."

Travis, and Tyler too, gave an unconscious nod, pulled back, and then pushed down over the length again. By now, Tyler hardly thought about his own aching, dripping shaft. It was just a distraction from the one being presented to his muzzle. His only desire was to make the simulated equine cum.

Around him, the soldier-drones were not kneeling as they had been previously. They were all standing to attention, chest puffed out, legs slightly spread to show off their own aroused bulges under the layer of latex. One of them was even walking, independently and on its own. It left the group and retrieved something from the back of the room. As it approached, Tyler could see that it held a helmet in its hands, much like its own.

Tyler barely reacted when the helmet was placed down over Travis's head. Dripping rivulets of latex slid out from the helmet and over the bounty hunter's body, eating away the clothes he was wearing and turning into a smooth suit, an identical copy of the drones in the room. Travis's own erection, seen for just a moment, was swiftly coated and turned into just another bulge. There was nothing left to identify Travis Quickshot as even just a fox except for the shape of his tail and his muzzle.

The legionnaire gripped the helmet and started to thrust faster. Travis Quickshot was no longer a loyal citizen pleasuring a handsome legionnaire. Now he was just an anonymous tool being used to get him off, the same as any of a thousand other soldier-drones. Tyler groaned and started to mash the buttons harder.

The stallion's hips shook and he whinnied in an intense orgasm, his load shown dripping around Travis's slack jaw. Tyler felt a swell of pride at having done such a good job.

"Prepare yourself," the legionnaire said, and then the game logged itself off.

The fox blinked for a moment in confusion. Then he slid the headset off and went to take a quick shower. He walked with slow and certain movements, his eyes unfocused. When he came out, he toweled himself dry and went to the living room, unlocking his apartment door and standing, naked and erect, in the middle of the room. He stared unseeing at the doorframe. In the back of his mind, he remembered the AFK players back in the starting zone and wondered if they, like him, were just waiting for further instructions.

It took an hour for anything to happen, and in all that time Tyler did not move more than an inch. Then the door opened with someone saying, "This must be the place."

And the legionnaire walked in.

Only it wasn't the legionnaire exactly. It was a stallion with the same body and face, the same wild mane and carefully braided beard, who the legionnaire had presumably been modeled on; however, instead of futuristic armor, he was wearing a pair of dress slacks and a collared shirt with a black dragon pin on his lapel. With him, he was rolling an extremely large suitcase. Tyler's eyes moved to take in these details, his shaft throbbed in the warm air, and his heart pounded quicker in his chest at being in the presence of that seductive stallion. But other than that he stayed perfectly still.

The stallion grinned easily, unlike his stern in-game counterpart, and he closed the door before anyone walked past and saw the naked fox. He leaned back against the door and looked him over. "Report," he said.

"Drone has been activated and is ready for transport," Tyler said in monotone.

"I bet you are." The stallion chuckled. He reached out and ran his paws over the unmoving fox's form. He caressed the fox's cheeks, wandered down to pinch and tweak his nipples, slid lower to sneak around the shaft and give the balls a tug. All the while he hummed and cooed like a kid with a new toy at Christmas. He finally wrapped thick fingers around the fox's shaft, which caused enough pleasure to nearly make the fox groan. Nearly. "How long has it been since your last orgasm?" He asked.

"Three weeks, six days," the fox again said in monotone.

"Oh really? Impressive." The stallion's fingers began to move slowly up and down over the length. "I suppose maybe you should get one last climax before we leave." His other hand slipped down and kneaded the fox's rear a moment before pushing under the tail and pressing a large digit against the exposed hole.

Tyler involuntarily shivered as the finger started to slip inside him. His shaft jerked and twitched and he longed to hump that heavenly hand until he came. But he had not been ordered to. And he knew, somehow he knew, that if he just waited and obeyed a little longer, the pleasure would be even greater.

Another knuckle slipped past the ring of muscle and this time Tyler did moan.

The stallion shook his head, a little disappointed. "Ah, not surprising. You're still new to this."

Then the finger slid the rest of the way in and Tyler's hands made involuntary clenching motions, his hips juddering as he was stroked. He was so close, he could feel it.

The stallion's finger shifted, poking and prodding within him to the fox's great pleasure. Then it seemed to hit somewhere just right and Tyler's spine went rigid. Pleasure coursed through his body. Pressure built and built in his hips, until it let go, a flood of cum oozing out of his tip. It felt good, but somewhere in Tyler's foggy mind, he knew that something wasn't right: he should have been relaxing in an afterglow, but instead he was hornier than ever before. The climax, with all its euphoric pleasure, had been denied him.

"Your first milking," the stallion said as he lifted his cum-covered hand to the fox's muzzle and let him clean it. "Don't worry, it won't be your last. You'll need to be drained regularly. And if you're a really good drone, then maybe, just maybe you'll earn yourself a true orgasm. But I wouldn't expect that for a few months at least." He paused and winked at the motionless foxdrone. "If ever."

And that was the only thought Tyler had in his head for a while. As the stallion unpacked his suitcase, Tyler thought of earning a true orgasm. As the fox dressed in the skin-tight latex suit the stallion gave him, Tyler thought of earning a true orgasm. As the stallion rubbed the bulge where Tyler's shaft was trapped, Tyler thought of earning a true orgasm. As the stallion made him kneel in just the right way to fit inside the suitcase, Tyler thought of earning a true orgasm. As the stallion left to take the fox to his new owner, Tyler thought of earning a true orgasm and hoped, hoped, it would happen soon.