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A Retreat to Zebra Island

Sponsored by GlynWolf

By Draconicon

The commercial shuttle touched down on the landing pad over the water, and Glyn was one of just eight passengers to disembark. As the timber wolf shouldered his backpack - the only thing that he had bothered to bring with him for this 'vacation' - he looked out the window to see just what kind of place he'd signed up for.

It was an island, of course; the resort had been so specific about that feature, billing this place as an 'isolated retreat' that was almost impossible to get to. They pushed that particular point so hard that he would have wondered if it was some sort of kidnapping scheme if it wasn't for Archer recommending the place. His contact back in the safer parts of space had promised that this was the sort of vacation that the timber wolf needed, and against his better judgment, Glyn had gone along.

After all, he had enough money at this point to make a mistake, though as he followed the other passengers off the shuttle and got a better look at the island, he was starting to think maybe he had.

There were none of the usual 'modern' amenities. No floater cars, no hover-carts that would carry luggage to and from different locations. The main structures of the island were a great lodge - well-disguised, he'd give it that, to look wooden rather than metallic - and a series of bungalows around it. Further north of the lodge, on a further side of the island, was a great rock face that was probably where all the rock-climbing and hiking that the resort talked about took place, and to the east side was a large, steaming column of stone. Probably the sauna that he had seen from above, Glyn imagined.

If it wasn't for the eye candy that the locals presented, the wolf would have turned around and gotten right back on the shuttle.

Glyn smirked despite himself, the glossy-brown wolf turning in circles as he walked along the pier, then the shoreline towards the coastal lodge. All around him were zebras, all male - he had specifically asked for the all-male island - and none of them wore more than a loincloth. Some of them were completely ineffectual, too, giving the wolf a good eye-full of hanging black sac.

Well, at least I get a live show hanging around here, he thought, shaking his head as he adjusted his own clothes. An asymmetrical red shirt, black trousers, and black paw-boots completed his outfit, though he was already planning on changing to something with a little more ventilation once he got to his room. Archer, why the hell did you think a tribal resort was the thing for me?

He could still remember that conversation between the pair of them at the bar. The green-skinned man had been all but sure that Glyn was going to drive himself crazy during his 'retirement' from a life of crime and conning others. Glyn had been happy - well, happy enough - recovering from his injuries and taking it easy. He had a ton of money, he could sit around and do nothing, and if he got lonely, he could get someone's attention by throwing a few hundred units around until people were willing to bite.

Simple enough life. Little lonely, little boring, but nice enough.

Not for Archer. He remembered his long-time friend poking him in the forehead and playing keep-away with a shot glass until the timber wolf had been willing to let him have his piece. Fun time.

"Heh, well, I'm here now, might as well see if it has something good," Glyn muttered as he reached the lodge. "Least they have some good aesthetics."

The lodge itself was definitely a beautiful piece of work. The whole thing was obviously metal if you knew where to look, like Glyn did. The structure was too large to be wholly wood without something else supporting it, and the holograms, while good, did have a few clipping textures here and there. Most of that was hidden behind plants, but, well, you work as a thief for long enough and you learned how to notice inconsistencies.

The smell, too, didn't quite match all of it. Too fresh, too thick; it smelled closer to a lumberyard than it did a real wood lodge, though he'd give them credit for keeping the smell strong. Better that it be too noticeable than too weak.

The lobby itself was interesting, though, with a sunken center of the floor that led to a massive bonfire. As soon as he stepped through the door, the heat hit him hard enough to get him sweating, and the timber wolf was forced to unbutton the top of his shirt to keep from feeling like the air was strangling him. Panting softly, he wiped his mouth and shook his head, taking in the rest of his surroundings.

The wooden walls were draped with beaded tapestries, running in long strings down the wall. The colored beads were surprisingly detailed, each one forming a piece of a picture that eventually formed a zebra doing something or other. There was one that showed a great and powerful male zebra in the middle of a hunt, and another that showed a wiser, older one bowing before the presence of some unknown spirit. Others still showed the zebras flexing, posing, showing off equine power and prestige.

Some of them came dangerously close to showing off other things, as well, as far as Glyn was concerned. He smiled to himself, shaking his head. They were more than allowed to go where they wanted, and the former con-man rather liked the -

He blinked as he turned and found himself nearly nose-to-sac with a larger than average equine. Glyn tilted his head back, looking up past the curved valley between the horse's balls to the male's striped belly, and further up to the face that seemed to be far too high above him. He took a step back, waving.

"Hi," he said.

"Hmm. Newcomer."

"Yeah, uh, where's the check-in desk?"

"Behind you."

Glyn turned on his heel. There, beneath one of the very tapestries that he had been staring at, was the desk that the other guests were already gathering at. He thumped the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"Well, I'm an idiot."

"No, just tiny brain in tiny body."

"Tiny - oh, you want to say that to my face?"

The massive zebra bent down, then knelt down, before finally squatting down on his hooves. He looked Glyn right in the eye, and the timber wolf had an unfortunate understanding of what Rocket must have felt every time that he bent down like this in front of the raccoon.

"Tiny body."

Poke. Right in the forehead. Glyn stumbled back from the surprising strength behind the push.

"Tiny brain."

"Okay, okay, point made," the canine muttered, rubbing the point of impact. "I'm a little blind, so sue me."

"Stranger is blind?"

"It's...an expression. Do you speak English?"

"Understand, not speak much."

"Oh. Uh...sorry."

"Is not problem," the zebra said as he stood up. "Welcome to Zebra Island, tiny man. Will be looking for you."

Doing his best to ignore the slightly ominous implications of that, he turned his attention back to the desk. He was the last passenger to get in line, but rather than being annoyed by that, Glyn let himself enjoy the feeling of just waiting, taking in the locals and finding some fun eye candy in the process.

As much as he had complained in the past about dealing with being the bottom, he had usually enjoyed partners that were bigger than him, and the fact that this place was filled with locals that topped him by a foot at least was more than enough to give him ideas. A small part of him wondered if there was a rule about flirting with the natives, and decided that he would ask at the front desk. It wasn't like he was trying to buy their time, but still, if there was some sort of rule, he figured that it'd be best to -

Glyn whistled as the first visitor at the desk got a zebra called over to carry their bags. The vixen and fox couple stared, too, as the seven-foot-tall zebra just hoisted at least three-hundred pounds of luggage as if it was nothing, carrying it all over one arm while waving for them to follow. The timber wolf shook his head, resisting the urge to whistle as he looked at that thick piece of equine cake swaying from side to side.

That man could split me in half without even trying.

It wasn't just that each zebra was so scantily clad, or that they were all muscle-bound beefcakes. There was something about the whole tribal motif of the resort, the way that the big horses were showing off and tattooed with paint around their shoulders and chests. Their pecs and their thighs, their ass-cheeks and their backs, everything was marked with the same sort of red paint. He didn't know what any of it meant - and to be fair, it might have meant nothing with all the work that they had gone to fake the experience here - but it was still a good bit of illusion work that he could give them credit for.

Bit by bit, the line shortened, and eventually he reached the front. Another zebra, this one looking a bit older with a bit of gray in the mane running down the back of his neck, looked down at him. Arms crossed under thick steel piercings in his nipples and with one ear jagged as if a bite had been taken out of it, the zebra looked like the herd master if there ever was one. Glyn bobbed his head in greeting.

"Herd master," he said, trying it out.

"Heh, welcome be ye to the Island of Zebras. My kind will see to it that you are taken care of."

Glyn's ears tingled. The zebra's voice was like flowing chocolate, rich and deep and with bass notes that made him feel the happy tingles right down to his balls. He rubbed his ears for a moment, shuffling the pack along his shoulders as he cleared his throat.

"Just one question before we check in. What's your name?"

"I am Bora, little man."

"Annnnd what's your real name?"

"...Heh. You wish no illusion?"

"I like to know who I'm dealing with, just in case."

"My name is Karl." The zebra nodded. "I assume that there was a glitch in the hologram that you spotted?"

"Well, that, and I don't think that a lot of native cultures really get preserved once the tourism industry comes knocking," Glyn said, shaking his head. "I figured you'd have a name for the idiots coming through and a name that you normally went by when the public isn't listening."

"You assumed correctly, little man. It is rare to have someone both insightful and respectful. Perhaps you will have a more interesting time on our island than the others."

There really was something about that voice. Really deep, really warm, and with just a hint of a chuckle bubbling underneath it the whole time. In anyone else, it would have been rather condescending; with Karl, it felt almost like a hint of respect, but with that knowledge that the zebra could still take him with one hand tied behind his back and still win.

"Well, Karl, I'd love to get checked in. And if you wouldn't mind, some ideas of what we can do around the resort?"

"Your name, then?"

"Glyn."

"Ah, we have but one Glyn coming, so you must be him." Karl nodded, reaching down and running his fingers over the beads on the desk. Glyn caught the slightest flicker of light on the other side; the monitors that showed the real computer must have been just out of sight. "Shall I call your attendant?"

"I get an attendant?"

"But of course. Here on the Island of Zebras, we take care of our guests."

Glyn smiled. He had expected there to be some sort of bag-boy, considering that they had called one over for the foxes, but an attendant? The wolf usually expected something like that on a cruise, not someone that would look after him on a land-based resort. Maybe there would be something for him here.

"Sure. I'd love to meet him."

"Certainly. Ahem. Luka!"

The shout was surprisingly loud, and the thump-thump-thump of someone charging toward him from behind nearly had the timber wolf leaping out of his skin. He leaned against the desk, forcing himself not to climb over it in pure fear, and - when the sound stopped - had to force himself to turn around again.

While not quite as tall as the first zebra that had loomed so high over his head, 'Luka' looked like one of those that would grow into it. The big zebra was three feet taller than him, and Glyn's head came maybe to the bottom of the striped equine's pecs. The sight of those rolling muscles in front of him was not unappealing, but his cheeks burned as he realized that - other than a few of the guests - he was probably going to be the shortest man on the island for the time of his vacation.

"Little man need help?" Luka asked.

"No, I got my bag. You, uh, you just follow me and...help out with other stuff, I guess."

"Little man would look good in loincloth."

"...I'm going to take that as a compliment," he muttered, turning -

"'Specially one without back."

Glyn's eyes just about bugged out of their sockets as he heard that one. He took a deep breath, shaking his head and telling himself that it was just part of the act, and turned to Karl.

"Do I get a key or anything?"

"No need. The doors do not lock. It allows the attendants to see to you at need." 'Bora' nodded down the hall leading off from the left of the desk. "Down this way, up the stairs to the second floor. Room 24."

"24," Luka repeated. "Come, little man."

"I'm - oof!"

Glyn's eyes just about did bug out of their sockets as he was more than just pushed; he was actually lifted off his feet, thrown over the zebra's shoulder, and carried as if he weighed nothing. His cheeks burned hotter than ever as he was carried along, burying his face in the big guy's chest.

At least the muscles were a nice distraction, he supposed, though he would have preferred to be allowed to walk on his own. The sheer humiliation of being hoisted like a sack of potatoes wasn't going to be something that he forgot anytime soon.

Down the hall, up the stairs, and down another, and soon they were at the door 'Bora' had mentioned. Luka sat him down and opened the door for him, standing outside with his hand gesturing towards the inside. Shaking his head and gathering his balance once more, Glyn stepped through and checked what he had been given.

All in all, it was a surprisingly nice room, particularly given that it wasn't the huge penthouse that some people would have expected. There was a large window, nearly wall-sized, that looked out on the ocean, and he had a perfect coastal view. A pod of alien whales were passing by, and he would have snapped some pictures if he wasn't still recovering from being carried around like he was nothing.

The room itself was of reasonable size. Nothing amazing there, nothing particularly large, but the bed was comfortable and tucked away into the side of the room rather than dominating it with all the space that it could take up, and the TV was tucked into another wall, able to spread out and grow at need. A little kitchenette took up the third corner of the room, big enough for coffee, leftovers, and maybe a few culinary experiments, but likely no more than that. The last corner had...

He blinked, turning to look at it again. The last corner seemed to be a cupboard of sexual wellness accessories, ranging from supplements for harder boners to condoms and lube to flat-out offering him toys. The timber wolf stared at one particular butt-plug -

"Hey...I - is that -"

"Is raccoon, though mutant."

Luka's answer confirmed that Rocket had been busier than he thought. The idea that the little guy had been modeling for dildos, though...he imagined that the little firebrand would have been a little pissed about the rest of the galaxy getting a chance to experience that without him being involved directly.

If I ever see him again, I'm going to have to tell him about that, he thought with a chuckle. But still...

Looked like sex was just as much a part of this resort as anywhere else. He shrugged; he'd have to find someone that knew the ins and outs of it. If nothing else, he could find some fun.

He turned back to Luka, the attendant standing just outside his room. The zebra was...massive, to put it mildly, and while he was more slender than the one that had poked his forehead, there was a lot of muscle in that twink-build. He walked over, trying not to stare at the way that the black head of the horse's cock stuck out under the loincloth, and offered his hand.

"Didn't give you my name back there. I'm Glyn."

"Good meet, little man."

"Are all of you going to call me that?"

"Yes."

"...Well, I guess that's to the point," Glyn muttered, pinching his face. "Look, uh, is there any chance -"

"Little man offended that someone bigger than him?" Luka asked, a slight hint of a smirk on the horse's face.

"I - you - no, I'm not offended!"

"Good. Little man is little. Means he needs taking care of. Learn to take care of self, then take care of bigger people."

Glyn opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was something there -

"...When you say take care of bigger people..."

Luka smirked. Glyn had a split-second where he might have done something to stop what was about to happen, but he was still processing the whole thing...and he wasn't entirely opposed, if it was what he thought would happen. Then the moment passed.

"Mmmph!"

And Glyn was nose-deep into the spot where sac met sheath, and he was forced to breathe in the thick fumes of rich, equine musk. The thick dark cock that spilled from that sheath was growing slowly, pushing out over his muzzle, sliding between his eyes and over his forehead. The whole thing was utterly massive, like watching someone's arm pushing out of that particular piece of anatomy, and his breath caught in his throat as the black, pink-mottled thing grew bigger, and bigger.

"Little man will tend to many things. Little man wants, yes?"

"..."

"Little man no say no."

That hand - unfairly big along the back of his head - dragged the timber wolf back. Five feet nothing was literally nothing compared to the mountain of horse muscle in front of him, and he grunted as that fat, musky cock pressed against his lips. Without much pressure behind it, it slid right past his jaws, going deep -

"Ulk!"

And then stopping fourteen inches down, with at least six more inches to go. His eyes went wide as he imagined just how hard that would go down if he wasn't already so experienced as he was, and then -

"ULK!"

Another two inches, then another. Soon, he was all the way down, his lips pressed against the zebra's sheath as if he was nothing but a cock-sock, held there and just...swallowing. Swallowing. Swallowing around a cock that seemed to keep growing. The big hand on his head held him there, but he wasn't sure that he would have been able to get off the big dick without help at that point. It was so...

Big...

Fat...

Hard...

Warm...

Glyn was shivering, panting, shaking, and he was about to fall into the black oblivion of unconsciousness when the hand on his head pulled him back. All the way back, the thick shaft slid out, out, out until it left his mouth with a wet squelch and a louder pop. He wheezed, falling to all fours as Luka let him go. The timber wolf grabbed his throat, wheezing and coughing, spitting more than once.

"Little man learn?"

"Mmmph..."

"Ah, little man..."

The zebra stallion lifted one leg. Unlike some of the others, this one had feet rather than hooves. His toes pressed against the timber wolf's pants from behind, rubbing right over the forming bulge that the casual use had given him, and he groaned. Even with the impending sore throat from that hard face-fuck, he still had a boner growing in down there. The toes curled, flicking, twitching against him before pulling back as Luka chuckled.

"Little man like. Just too small."

"Not...too small," Glyn grunted. God, he'd need some water after that. "Just...surprised."

"Little man want again?"

"Tomorrow."

"Luka remember. Anything else?"

"Not...not now."

The zebra nodded, turning on his heel and walking out. The timber wolf huffed, shaking his head in lingering embarrassment at the whole thing. To think that he'd just gotten throat-fucked by his own attendant; that was not what some grand con-man would be bragging about. Not usually, anyway.

And what was that about 'tomorrow'? Was he seriously going to -

Fucking hell, he probably was. The number of times that he had gotten into sexual hot water because he overestimated himself wasn't exactly nonexistent, was it? Glyn groaned as he dragged himself to his feet, using the wall for desperately needed support as he got his legs under him and his boots firmly planted on the ground.

Okay...okay, that was a thing. That was a thing. And clearly I'm going to be getting it again later, but for now...for now, let's look at whatever else they got in the room and...yeah. Shower. Shower would probably be good after getting face fucked like that.

Ignoring his boner, he stripped out and went to the rain shower in the back of the hotel room. Time to clean his head and his body at the same time.

Once clean in body, if not in mind, Glyn went back to the corner with all the toys and lubes. He'd seen some pamphlets before things got out of hand, and sure enough, there were a good half-dozen laid out in the open. He dragged them back to the bed, lying down with nothing but a towel under him as he started thumbing through them.

A spa offer was the first on display, and he opened it to find it very, very explicit that it wasn't the same sort of spa that people went on vacation for, most of the time. Not for the sake of getting their muscles taken care of, anyway.

He stared at the front picture, which showed a more typical gray wolf with their legs spread, their ass half-hanging off the table, and a zebra standing behind them with big, thick-fingered hands spreading those cheeks wide. He could almost feel them on his ass right then, feel them spreading him and showing off his ass, and...

And yeah, that picture of the zebra shoving his muzzle right between the cheeks and feasting on that hole was doing things for him. He shifted back and forth, his cock sliding from his sheath into his sheets as he cleared his throat and turned to look through the rest of the pamphlet.

There were quite a few 'treatments' on display, ranging from 'deep breathing' exercises that looked like little more than getting one's throat fucked and learning how to get your air between thrusts to massages that looked like little more than getting crushed between muscular bodies and getting 'rubbed up' by their muscular bulges. Still others showed vacationers getting slathered in horse cum as a new sort of lotion, and Glyn was more than a little tempted at the 'deep tissue' massage that he could only imagine was going to be some lucky zebra slamming his cock balls-deep inside of him.

Shaking his head, he pushed that to the side and looked for something a little more mundane. One had a rock-climbing title on it, and he pulled it over -

"Authentic hunting expedition...as the prey..."

His cheeks burned a little hotter as he read through it. This one, apparently, was set for those that wanted to be chased after, who wanted to be the prey of warriors that had been trained the same 'traditional' way that all their ancestors had been, with the ending inevitably leading to the one being chased getting fucked right into the ground. The pictures were...pretty damn explicit, too, with one of them showing the 'unlucky' male getting his cock caged and wearing the personal tramp stamp of one of the warriors. It was painted - or at least, Glyn hoped that it was paint - right over the male's crotch and over his ass.

He rolled onto his side, his cock getting harder and harder as he read through more and more of the brochures. He idly reached down and teased the five-incher, more than aware of how much shorter it was than all the fat dicks that he was seeing in the pictures. 'Little man,' indeed, compared to cocks that were hitting eleven inches and higher with each successive image.

There were other events, too. Snorkeling that would lead to underwater sex. Old ritual educations that would lead to orgies, with the lucky vacationer in the middle. And -

And there was something else. Something that looked...oddly intense, in a way.

Native for a Day...

He squeezed the base of his cock as he looked at the image of an obvious off-worlder between no less than a dozen of the zebras, surrounded on all sides. They were the only naked person in the image, though the zebras were rapidly tenting their loincloths, and the off-worlder - in this case a fox - was getting body-painted from head to toe, marked in the same red paint that the zebras wore. He unfolded the brochure, taking a long look at the description.

Wanting to understand the lives of your hosts? Submit yourselves and be educated in the sensual lifestyle of the zebras. Sink yourselves into the life and traditions of the equine people, your body nothing more than the expression of your pleasure. Imbibe the herbs that allow the full release of your desires, and learn how to rise within our people. Start at the bottom, and if you do well, perhaps by the end of the day, you will experience the rights of the Herd Master.

It was almost impossible to imagine them allowing anyone to go that far. Glyn knew how these sorts of things went; as fun as it sounded, he knew that they'd be drugging anyone stupid enough to take that particular 'treatment' up to the gills, ensuring that they were nothing but the herd's sex toy for the entire day. Probably wake up with nothing but a sore ass, a tramp stamp or two (dozen) and probably wondering just how much cum you'd swallowed.

And yet, at the same time, some part of him - some egomaniacal part of him - almost wanted to try it. The very idea was stupid; he was smaller than most of the guests, and he'd probably be affected even more by whatever 'traditional herbs' they forced down his throat, but at the same time, it was more than slightly appealing. He wanted to see what they could do to him...and what he could do to them.

Just for a bit, at least. Just for a little while.

Coughing as the last bit of the throat-fuck tickled the inside of his neck, he rolled out of bed and walked to the kitchenette. Pouring himself a cup, he tossed it back and gargled for a few seconds, then spat it out. The rest of the cup went down as he cleared it out and looked out the window again.

Naked. He wouldn't be like this in a city, that was for sure. He'd be at least a little embarrassed of someone looking in and seeing him like this. But with the whole tribal motif, clothes felt like the weird thing. A loincloth, at most -

Backless loincloth. He chuckled; now he understood why Luka had made the suggestion. A little wolf, a 'little man' in that thing would be an open advertisement for use, and he imagined that the rest of the herd would be seeing that and going right for him. Luka would have to fight his way through the other zebras that were coming for his ass.

Glyn shook his head. Looking down at his cup, he raised it to the skies, looking out the windows to the heavens.

"Archer...you son of a bitch. You read me like a book."

He shook his head, putting the cup down and leaning against the wall. He had a full week of time scheduled for the resort, so he could do at least half of the events that the brochures offered. The question was less whether he would do them, and more which ones would appeal the most on a given day.

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

The room phone was going off. He walked over to the buzzing circle on the nightstand by the bed, sitting down and pushing it. A small hologram of 'Bora's' - or rather, Karl's - head popped out, looking at him.

"I assume that you were well-welcomed to your room?"

"I see that you dropped the tribal talk."

"Heh, you've been welcomed now, you're in your room, and there's nobody else in the lobby; I can take a break."

"Clearly. But, uh, yeah...Luka welcomed me."

"Quite deeply from the sound of your voice."

"Yeah, well, I thought I could take it. Mostly did, too."

"I'm sure, little man. And I imagine that won't be the last time. Someone like you...you're eager for a little more horse-flesh."

"Heh, someone like me?"

"Someone that likes to prove a point. Someone that wants other people to challenge him. Someone that likes to lose."

"..."

"Shall I set you up with the hunting trip tomorrow?" Karl asked, the insufferable zebra's face still so smug. "I imagine that your eagerness to prove that you're not just a slut is rising, considering that Luka just pinned you down to his sheath. But then again, most people can't really resist us. Maybe I should just put you down for a long afternoon of dicking. A good few hours under a couple dozen horse dicks would probably help you come out of that shell of denial and just admit what you really are."

"...Oh, you son of a bitch."

"Struck a nerve, little man?"

"You put me on that hunting trip," Glyn said. "And when I get away from that hunter, I want it on record that I managed to beat your best man."

"Oh, you want our best?"

"I want to prove a point."

"Well, you'll certainly be getting the point," Karl said, chuckling as he typed something out of sight. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning. Seven AM sharp."

"I'll be there."

The holo closed, and Glyn slowly came back to the moment. He took a deep breath, then groaned, slapping one hand over his face.

"Fuuuuuuuuck, I shouldn't have done that. I should not have gotten baited that easily. Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

The End

Summary: A story where a certain space wolf goes to a resort, and ends up finding out how big and sexy the zebras that run it are.

Tags: M/M, Horse, Zebra, Zebra Superiority, Oral, Face-Fuck, Sheath, Size Difference, Timber Wolf, Canine, Sci-Fi, Tribal, Resort, Superiority, Speciesism, Take It, Balls,