FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

_Hey everyone, _

it's been a while since I posted something. Well, mainly because I was busy. This is my longest piece ever, almost reaching 12 thousands words, but this kind of story needed to be told all together, I guess. It's my entry for the Sci-Fi Summer contest that it's been held by SoFurry! I always considered sci-fi, as well as fantasy, as a mean to talk about problems and aspects present in real life, but from a different and unique point of view. The theme I wanted to explore with my story is discrimination, even though I am sure I didn't go too deep and that someone else could have done a better job at it.

Well, I still hope you will like this story of mine! If you will, or even if you won't, let me know through a comment, a vote or a fave! Thank you, my Gritou, for helping me with the editing, as always *kiss*

"Watch out, tailless monkey!"

Riccardo stepped aside, letting the massive canine surpass him on the curb, the insult bouncing on him without any damage. The human just sunk his hoodie-covered head in his shoulders, resolved in not attracting any form of notice; he succeeded once again, the canine just going through and not speaking again, like the rest of the others. Most of the furs usually ignored him, like someone ignored a bug, some just slurred at him. A few did more than insult him, and that never lead to nice things...

The black haired man shivered only partially for the cold rain that was soaking him to the bones. But he was used to that, he had survived worst during his training and the years of combat; at least this rain was just water....

He kept walking, traversing the huge pedestrian plaza, nestled between high skyscrapers. It was a recreational area, where the furs working in the buildings went to eat and pass their free time, full of restaurants, fast foods and shops. It was like the Holy Confederation of America at the height of its splendor, or at least how Riccardo pictured it, when his grannie told him the stories.

A soft vibration radiated from the sky, triggering the man's instincts to fall down on the floor and cover his head. But this hovering car wasn't an enemy patrol ready to kill him, but a normal, simple bus, taking some furs to the plaza. Cursing himself under his breath, he raised from the ground, a quick scan of his surrounding showing canines staring at him, most with a head tilted in curiosity, others just shaking theirs, probably dismissing his behavior as human madness.

"Damn dogs." He grumbled in his native Neo-Latin. It was safer for him to use it, since most of the canines who bothered to know a bit of human languages didn't learn his tongue; it was good for him too, reminded him his origins, making him feel at home on this foreign planet.

The human chuckled at the thought, surely assuring the few canines that were still staring at him that he was mad. Foreign planet. It was still Earth, his homeworld, just full of dogs. He checked if he had everything in his pockets, foremost his hard-earned money, sighing when he found them safely tucked in the inner pocket of his hoodie.

He resumed his walk, now nearer to the fast food he wanted to dine this evening. All humans had the rations given by the government, along with housing, but both things were mediocre at best, poor substitutes of the real thing.

That was the reason why this evening he had decided to taste some real, greasy, yummy food, using much of the precious money he had saved by working odd jobs in the plaza. Not everyone was in his situation, those with scientific background among the human refugees lived a much better life thanks to their usefulness; but of what use could a soldier be when he wasn't allowed to touch any type of weapon?

He finally entered the warm fast food, full to the brim with barking and chatting canines, a long line waiting to be served. He joined the queue, his thoughts trailing away, as they usually did when he couldn't occupy his mind.

Most of the human population, the survivors of their dying world, weren't adjusting to the current situation of pariah in this dog world, but Riccardo was. He had been through the same after the fall of the New Roman Empire, when the European Allies finally defeated Emperor Silvio in the battle of Arcore. After the disbanding of his nation, he had been treated poorly wherever he went, barely surviving before the United States of Europe decided that they needed all trained soldiers, during the last days of the Troublings.

The line moved slowly, but surely, yummy smells coming from the open kitchen behind the counter. His stomach protested, more than ready to get its dose of food, but he silenced it, as he had learned in the months before the Evacuation.

He looked around, shocked as always at how similar to his own Earth this world was, the general forms of things, like furniture, colors, even the clothes, as the ones he remembered back home, but with little details that showed how alien they were. It could have been the strange markings that passed as an alphabet here, the barked words spoken by the canines that, while perfectly intelligible and reproducible by humans, where in a language that wasn't any the humans developed.

The fact of being in a line formed by anthropomorphic dogs almost didn't feel surreal anymore to Riccardo. It had been two years after all, since all the remaining nations of the world had to evacuate with great emergency, the planet's death being swifter than they ever imagined.

No one except the pups pointed him out, either, the canines in the big cities having adjusted to the presence of humans. There had been so much chaos when they had emerged through the portals, scattered on the surface of Earth, but after the initial panic, and violent reaction, the dogs had seen the humans weren't invaders, but refugees.

Riccardo stepped forward once more, another client being served by the happily smiling clerks, getting here closer and closer to his warm, tasteful meal. The canine governments were helping out the remnant of the humans, having split up the population among them, so that the weight wasn't too heavy. Not that they were many, only one third of the world population had managed to pass through the portals before the end; even that, years of wars, famine, disasters had taken their toll on humanity...

The human shook his head, not wanting to dwell in such musing for long. Many in District 3 were taken by such nostalgic, depressing thoughts, not adjusted to the fact they weren't the apex species, just poor souls that the canines' mercy decided to save. But the Italian knew better to do that: he had lost so much during his thirty five years, and the current situation wasn't, by far, the worst he had experienced.

"Next!" A clerk barked out, the black haired man realizing that he was that person, finally. He walked to the counter, facing a diminutive, by canine standards, bitch, her appearance being similar to a collie. He assumed she was young, though age was quite hard to discern in canines, with shirt that showed an ample cleavage of her top tits while high-lining her other four. He blinked twice, trying not to think of how weird to see... That on what was supposed to be a woman, asking himself why their evolution took out only one pair.

The collie's smile morphed in a grimace when she saw her next client, her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something horrid. The human didn't care, he was there to get food, and the bitch's duty was to serve him.

"Hello." He said, the words coming out perfectly from his mouth. He had long since learned that, when living in a hostile environment, it was better to learn the language as perfectly as possible. "I would like some chic-"

"I'm sorry, but I can't serve you." The collie cut him out, her eyes hostile, before shouting. "Next!"

"What? No! You don't have the right to do that!" He shouted back, enraged. "I can pay, I have money-"

"Didn't you hear me, furless? I can't serve you." She growled softly, the correct canine term for human sounded like an insult, the way it escaped her muzzle.

"Why? Give me a reason!" Riccardo cried out, not believing what was happening. He looked around quickly, but he didn't meet any expression of solidarity from the dogs, just annoyance and, in some cases, embarrassment for his behavior. "Just another poor, filthy human" their snouts screamed at him, a leech to their society.

When his eyes went back on the collie he saw that a tall doberman, probably the manager, had appeared, his perked ears flicking.

"Sir, your employee refuses to serve me." He told the manager, his stomach grumbling loudly. The delicious smells that had surrounded him since he entered had only increased his craving.

"She is right to do that. We don't serve furless here." The towering dog spoke calmly, condescending, but his disgust of speaking to him was just that clear on his muzzle. "Please, leave, or I will be forced to call the authorities."

Riccardo knew when he was defeated, else he wouldn't have survived so far. Without adding much, he turned, giving the shoulders to the dogs, and left, the rain hitting him hard once he was stormed out. His belly lamented, loudly, the lack of food, but he couldn't do anything about it; and the bus for the district wouldn't leave until half an hour, and damn be the dogs if he would wait for it under this wretched water!

He went to the covered area just outside the fast food, at the moment completely empty thanks to the bad weather. He sat on a bench, beginning to get as much water as possible out of his clothes; it wasn't chilling there, but waiting in soaked clothes would have lead to a cold, and he didn't have money to waste in medicine.

The man had just taken off his hoodie and in the middle of coaxing liquid from it when he felt a presence near him. He turned around, letting go of the piece of cloth, fist rising to defend himself from the attack; his only result was to startle the approaching dog, a stocky, rottweiler like male wearing a suit. The fur was so surprised by such a sudden move that he almost dropped the two paper bags he was caring.

"Wow! You're fast!" The stranger said, regaining composure and flashing a huge, clownish grin on his short muzzle.

"What do you want?" Riccardo growled at him, even if it would have sound ridiculous to a being who could do it for real. But it seemed that it had managed to convey the right feeling of dangerous, since the rottie's smile wavered a bit.

"N-nothing. I saw how they treated you, and it was plain injustice. Here, I bought you a chicken hamburger." The dog explained, a bit insecure after such a display of wildness, presenting one of the bags. A delicious smell of cooked chicken came from it, proving the dog's words.

The human looked at the offering, half tempted to accept it. It was food... warm one... tasty one... and the rottie was just being friendly and....and...

"No". He whispered, getting his hoodie from where he had tossed it, immediately putting it on his self.

"Beg your pardon?" The other responded confused, tilting his head and flicking his triangular ears a bit.

"No. I won't accept pity from you dogs!" He said more loudly, tossing away the dog and walking in the rain. He didn't turn to see the reaction of the canine, he didn't care. He might have hurt his self-esteem, the little part of him that bought food for the poor, needful human, who didn't manage to care for himself. Riccardo was sure that the rottie had done it just to appease some hypocritical sense of justice. But he wasn't there yet, he could still fight!

That's what he told himself, while running to the point of collection, joining other humans who were going back to the District, the anger keeping him warm.

***** *****

"Be quick to unload, I need that stuff!" The wolfish canine, Riccardo's employer for the day, barked, pointing to the truck before getting inside. He turned to his fellow human, a man called Boris, then went to do as ordered, sighing. That was among the only works they could find, heavy chores that left you tired to death and that were paid a quarter of what a canine would get. But it was something, and that was the important thing.

Usually, he didn't chat with whoever he was working with, but the sunny day had injected him with some glee, after getting so much rain.

"What did you manage to bring for lunch?" He asked the other in Russian, the language of the late United States of Europe, after deposing the first boxes. Topics among the refugees were always about foods, water and clothes, the basic things for survival.

"I have some ham, only slightly expired." The other man answered truthfully, not fearing that Riccardo would steal it. Lots of people dismissed Italians by default, and the man was surely burlier than him; not that it would have helped him in a fight with a trained soldier.

They went back to the truck, so he patiently waited to finish the trip before continuing the conversation, so to not waste breath. "I got only some stale rations. How did you find ham?"

The other stopped in his tracks, so suddenly that Riccardo walked a few steps before noticing. He turned to him, not really worried, just curious. The other human understood his expression, and went on to explain.

"My woman and I.... we managed to find some money. Thanks to a job." He simply said, shifting a bit on his feet.

"A job? That gives enough money to afford ham?" Riccardo said in disbelief, an unspoken question in the air. Could he join in? Boris understood, once again, and grabbed his arm, dragging him behind the truck.

"It's well paid, yes. You know that bitches tend to have periods when they don't want to get boned, right?" The burly man whispered, some blush appearing on his cheeks, behind his beard.

"Yes. So?" Riccardo asked. He knew that, everyone had been at least curious to know a bit more of the canine biology. It was a detail of canine reproduction that evolution didn't get rid off, apparently. Like the knot of the males, or the extra boobs on the female. So why did Boris want to remember him-

"Oh." The flat sound escaped him, when realization hit. It took him a few more seconds for that to sink in, but when it did, his face showed the shock and the disgust.

"Wait, so you and your woman... You let them... How?" He started to rant, not sure what he could say.

"They... don't care what they bang, as long as it is alive. They prefer... men, because they are less alien to them, they say." The other mumbled, a bit of shame creeping in with the implication. Riccardo could understand the dogs' opinion: for him, the males were much more attractive than the females, since their body was much similar to humans. He could even pass the weird details too. But still...

"I-I can't believe that." He muttered, still shocked, backing a bit away from the other man.

"D-don't tell anyone!" Boris blurted out, shushing him. "There are always clients, and the money is good...And it's not like you despise the same sex."

This time it was Riccardo who blushed. "Yeah. But still, getting something like that in..."

"Get back to work!" A rough bark came, making them jump. They immediately did as ordered, the risk of being chased away too great.

"Let me know if you are in." The Russian managed to say, before hurling another big box. The thought of being used for that disgusted the man, deeply. His stomach protested, making a good objection. He might disgust him now... But how much longer before hunger silenced that?

***** *****

Thoughts about prostituting plagued Riccardo's mind for the rest of the day. He didn't talk with Boris after that, parting ways once they got their pay for the jig, but his words still haunted him, being repeated again and again in his head.

He tried to search for more work in the plaza, but all were either taken or already done, leaving him with only a meager outcome for the day. He fiddled the money in his pocket, eying the fast-food of the other day, knowing well it would have been enough for a burger; but the place might had been on Mars, since he couldn't enter it again.

Toying with the few, wrinkled bills had the effect of thinking of the shadowed proposal. They wouldn't buy anything in the black market, at the district, but if they had more companions... Was his honor so valuable in the end?

Riccardo shook his head. He wasn't alien with that kind of sex, the one involving cocks; he didn't have doubts on his ability to do it, and maybe even taking some pleasure. But doing it for money... selling himself, to those dogs, would have meant giving up completely, admitting that the dogs had absolute power on him!

Deciding it was no use to mope around there, he turned, just in time to see a familiar canine walking toward him, two paper bags in his paws.

"Not again..." He sighed mentally, already preparing himself to shun the rottie off with his meanest glare.

"What are you doing?" The human growled to the black furred canine.

"I saw you there, and since the other day you didn't accept-" The fur smiled at him, confident and friendly. His fucking tail was wagging behind him!

"I told you no. I won't accept charity." He grumbled, trying to ends this as quickly as possible. Strangely, that didn't give the results he hoped for, since the Rottweiler's toothy smile remained, his ears not flicking at all.

"But it's not charity." He simply stated, extending one of the bags.

"What, giving free food isn't?" Riccardo replied, annoyed of such a naïveté, ingenuity or simple stupidity.

"The other day, when you said you had the money, it was true, right?" The other rebutted matter-of-factly, but still grinning. Even if their lips weren't like the human ones, and their teeth were menacing, you always knew when a canine was smiling; maybe it was the eyes.

"Yes, as I told them, I have the money. They just didn't-" His tired explanation was cut, overcome by the rottie's happy-go-lucky behavior.

"Good! So, you can buy this from me! It won't be charity, just an economical exchange." The rottie unfold his plan, looking victorious. Riccardo opened his mouth to reject, but the logic of the thing stood. If he bought it from this dog it wouldn't be different from buying it in the fast food...

"Deal." He extended his hand with the money in it, wanting to be done with it.

"Wow, not so fast! I don't want to just be your delivery boy. At least you can sit and eat with me!" The other backed out, already posing conditions, something typical of dogs. The Italian didn't want to sit with him, that could lead to talk and he didn't want to do that with a dog! But the aromas coming from the bags were too delicious...

"Okay." He simply agreed, motioning him to lead the way. The dog did as asked, walking toward the covered outdoor area, that way giving a good panoramic of his wagging ass, something that he didn't actually see before since his tail had been cropped. Strangely, that gave a bit more of... Humanity to the dog.

"So, since we are going to eat together, what's your name?" He asked over his shoulder. The human pondered if it was the case to answer, he already decided to talk as little as possible...

"Riccardo. Riccardo Rossi." He finally said, reluctantly.

"Riccardo Rossi." The dog repeated, his tongue rolling a bit on the rs, like all dogs tended to. "Funny name! Mine is Woffart!"

From the cheerfulness of the presentation, the Italian already knew that his lunch wouldn't be silent, at all.

***** *****

Days and weeks passed, the rains of spring giving to summer and the heat. Riccardo had imagined that the lunch shared with Woffart, filled with chitchat by the rottie, would end up a solitary and unique event. How wrong he had been. Sure, he didn't meet him all the time, but every odd day he found him there, in front of the fast-food, either with food already prepared or just about to enter the place. Every time, he was dragged by the canine to the outdoor area to eat.

Riccardo had tried not to give too much confidence to the rottie, but something about him... His cheerfulness, maybe, his joy of life, had opened him up a bit. Their chats weren't about serious stuff, and the Italian still talked as little as possible; but with every conversation, he learned a bit more of the dogs' society and history. Knowledge was always valuable, it gave power, even in his situation.

At first, they were the only ones there, thanks to the weather. That was most fine for them, since that way they didn't attract problems. But with the warming up of the temperatures, more and more furs took their quick lunches and dinners outside, and many of those dogs glared at them, if not outright shout insults. Nothing physical, ever, it was too public after all, but those words were... unsettling.

"I... I don't understand why you do this." The human asked one day, after a group of, supposedly, youngsters had gone away, taking with them all their "ape lover" and "tailless monkey". They haven't reacted to that, although the black canine had growled softly, under his breath.

"Uhm, do what?" The other asked, tilting his head a bit but still wolfing down his burger.

"This." The ex-soldier said, gesturing at the table. "Eating with me, hell, even talking with me!"

"There is no reason why I shouldn't do that." Woffart simply answered, still intent in eating his food.

"That's a lie. I see you are disturbed when tugs like those before pass by." He continued, wanting to go deep in the matter. "And you know the general opinion about humans. So, why?"

The dog gulped down the last bite of burger, taking a long, long sip from his drink. Riccardo didn't avert his eyes, looking at the dog, waiting for a true answer.

"Of course I know. The general opinion, I mean." The suited up male began to talk, his muzzle fixed in a serious expression. "I just don't automatically conform to it."

The human didn't speak, waiting for the canine to continue. It seemed like his lunch companion was going to explain everything, at his own pace; there was no need for him to interrupt.

"Many were scared, and still are, of your existence. Beings so alien, yet similar to us, coming from another Earth." Woffart continued somberly, looking very massive and solid. It was a big change from his usually laughing self. "Many see you as a problem, and individuals living on their taxes. I don't see any of that, and I haven't since you set foot here."

"And what do you see?" The human asked, curious. He was partially thankful that his companion hadn't dwell too much in details, just summing up; he didn't care what the dogs thought of humanity, but still... it hurt.

"Desperate furs, escaping death. At the mercy of a much larger population, that sees in them something different." He stated. "It's in furry nature to discriminate what it's different, and I knew, from the beginning, that you, furless, were going to be hit hard with that stick."

"It's... it's always like that." Riccardo agreed, remembering his past experiences, grimacing at the memories.

"So, I joined an organization fighting for human rights, Sapient Equality, to help improve your situation." Woffart concluded, sounding proud. "That day, when they refused to give you food, I realized that I could do a bit more than signing requests and go to manifestations. Namely, helping you in getting something to eat."

The two remained silent for a bit, both pondering about what had been was said. It was nice of the rottie, to do that, out of generosity; the human wasn't sure he would have done the same, if the roles were reversed.

"So, you are fighting for humans to get equal rights, eh?" He asked, receiving a nod as an answer. "And you do that out of love for justice? That is impressive."

"Uhm, well..." The dog rumbled, his paw scratching his head in embarrassment, or so it seemed. "Actually, I was subject of discrimination first hand, and I don't want others to experience that, as much as possible."

"Oh?" He exclaimed at such revelation. He didn't voice any question, and the sound was meant just as a generic response, but the canine begged differently.

"My ... parents were discriminated. A lot. And I was too, just because I was their son." He spoke again, and now the human could almost see some redness among his dark fur, his ears flicking. "We endured that, and now times have changed. But that's the reason why I can't stand seeing such things."

"I ... see." Riccardo uttered. Then, he felt a bit obliged to say more, after such a personal, and probably hard, confession. "I... had my experience with discrimination. Well, before coming here, while still on my Earth."

"Really? I'm sorry..." The other said, by instinct extending a paw to grab his hand and assure him. Thankfully, he realized what he was doing, and stopped himself. "If I can ask you, why you were..."

"Just because I was from a certain country." He cut the chase.

"Uhm, by the way, where are you from?" Woffart asked, explicitly changing the course of the conversation to another topic.

"You know that boot shaped peninsula? I am from there." The human simply answered, not even trying to remember how the continent, or even the nation, was called in that world.

"Really? You are from Canes?" The rottie reacted enthusiastically, ears perking and eyes sparkling with excitement. "My great-great father was from there! From what region you are? City?"

"You know that there isn't a perfect match between our Earth and yours, so-" He tried to shun off the overly happy dog, but with no results.

"But still, I want to know! My great-great father came from a town of the north called..."

***** *****

Time passed, devouring moments with great appetite. Riccardo had grown to enjoy the meals with Woffart, even more so now that he talked a bit more. He was still pretty vague about his past, but still, that hour with the canine was the only good part of his life, when he could forget about his situation and just... be free of doing what he wanted.

While their encounters had been quite random before, now they scheduled, as much as it was possible. The lack of means to contact each other was overcome, somehow, and it never happened that one waited for the other in vain.

Until that day. The jig had lasted for longer than he expected, and now he was late for the lunch. Why the fuck it took him so long to hurl that furniture around? So he ran, not wanting his friend to be worried about him.

To cut some road, he took the little alleys around the plaza, those long, almost claustrophobic spaces between the tall buildings in downtown. They weren't actually dangerous... Or so he had heard, and it was still plainly day. Nothing could happen.

Riccardo run, taking turns in the maze, until finally he recognized the alley next to the fast-food, thanks to the recognizable smells in the air. He stopped his run, taking time to calm his breathing; he didn't want his canine friend to see him gasping for air, after all. It didn't take long, since he was still an ex soldier, one that had been doing heavy duty jigs for the past few months, and, once he breathed normally again, he walked toward the light of the plaza.

"Well, well. We have a stinky monkey here!" A voice came from ahead of him, showing three, lupine-like youngsters on the side of the alley. The human hadn't seen them, since they had been sitting after some dumpsters, completely covered. But now they were up, blocking his way to safety, with menacing grins that made him shiver of an ancient fear.

"Nowhere." He mumbled, trying to walk past them without sparking troubles. Unfortunately, the three tugs thought differently, standing in his way and not letting him go.

"But we saw you running here, monkey! Ain't right, boys?" The tallest one snickered, eliciting laughter from his loyal mooks. "Bet you were going to your filthy, two boobed wench!"

Those words made the Italian blush slightly, for some reasons. He decided he should play along a bit, just to get rid of them.

"I am going to have dinner, just that." He said, clearly this time. He didn't see the blow coming, a punch directed to his head, but his training was triggered, and he managed to avoid part of it. It still took him on the cheek, brushing it and sending pain that was only heightened by the presence of the rugged gray fur.

"Learn our language, you piece of crap!" The aggressor shouted, receiving the cheers from his two friends. Despite the pain, Riccardo remained on his feet, not cowering in fear despite it being the most logical and safe solution. He stayed there, glaring at them, a fist raised while the other hand was pressed against his smarting cheek.

"A brave one, eh?" The alpha growled, grabbing Riccardo's shirt with incredible speed, his fist already raised to strike, this time bound to hit him for real. He didn't close his eyes, nor begged, even if the situation was dire: his pride demanded that, for once.

"Hey you! What are you doing?" Someone barked behind the wolf. The canine turned to the newcomer, facing him while still holding the human.

"Teaching a monkey how to behave! Wanna join?" The lupine smirked. With his vision not impaired by the big dog, the Italian could see that the canine facing the three tugs was none other than a growling, pissed off Woffart. Seeing his friend like that, a sneer on his muzzle where his smile usually was, it was something so strange and unnatural, something he didn't want to see again.

"Let him go." The rottweiler ordered, taking a step toward them.

"Or else? " The wolf spitted out, not impressed by the display of dangerousness.

"Or else, you are going to be arrested. I called the police." The usually placid and cheerful rottie threatened them. The alpha didn't say anything, maybe thinking they wouldn't go in troubles from just beating up a human. Or maybe he was seeing a bluff and-

Riccardo was suddenly thrown against the wall, cutting his breath; he grabbed to the concrete surface, not wanting to fall and show any weakness. He still fought the pain that had exploded, so much that he didn't hear the tugs' parting words, nor saw their departing. Once his vision cleared, he saw Woffart leaning on him; he jumped, despite his own efforts, seeing a dog so near coming as a surprise for his shocked brain.

"Are you okay, Riccardo?" The worrying canine asked quickly. "Do your head feel foggy? We can go to the hospital."

"No, I'm okay, just some cuts on the cheek." He calmed him while mentally checking if it was really only that. His soldier instincts didn't ring, so he trusted them, as he did so many times in the past.

"I don't need hospital, only some water and such." The human dismissed, trying to walk away. A gentle paw took his hand, stopping him, and forcing him to show the situations of his wounds. They were superficial, but bleeding profusely, something that shouldn't be taken lightly.

"Water won't do much. Can you stay out of the district at night?" The rottie asked, after examining his cheek.

"They don't care if we are there." He spoke the truth; they weren't counting how many humans stayed there at night.

"Good. You are coming to my place, I have some stuff. And no buts, if you leave that unattained, who knows what would happen." Woffart proposed, without leaving much choice. He let go of the hand, motioning him to take a few steps, probably to see if he could walk.

Riccardo did that, grunting a bit for the lingering pain, but still, he could move without problem; however the strength that wolf possessed, he had survived being blasted across a room, this in comparison was a walk in a flower field.

"Seems you are okay. This way, I live in one of the residential skyscrapers!" The canine said, walking slowly to be sure that he was followed. He didn't go to the plaza, preferring the alleys instead; not that the Italian was against that, it saved him a lot of unwanted stares.

"You're rich, then." He stated, while limping behind his friend.

"Not much. It is one of those built for employees, the rich people lives outside the city." He chuckled, probably amused by his ignorance. "They can afford hovering cars, after all."

"Strange. Back home, the poor lived in the old buildings. Those without protection from the acid rain." The human recalled, silencing his friend. The canine was always disturbed by how life was on his Earth, with the wars and the crazy, ruined climate. He didn't care, not even now; he only wished to arrive quickly.

The silence, broken only by their breaths, was too oppressive for the human, in that shadowy labyrinth. He searched for an argument to make, and then, he found it.

"Shouldn't we suppose to wait for the police?" He asked. The man was happy that they weren't going to, but still, it was strange that the irrepressible canine wasn't following his lawful conscience.

"What? Oh, that. It was a bluff." The rottie confessed innocently, still guiding his friend toward the haven of his building. Riccardo stared at him, a bit in disbelief; Woffart caught it, and promptly explained.

"I had to act quickly, I couldn't wait even for a second. Plus" he said, cocky as never before, "I knew those guys would have believed me."

They walked a few more steps before he added a bit more, reluctantly. "Or, at least, I was sure they wouldn't have waited to see if I told the truth. Look, we arrived!"

They had appeared in a bigger street, one of the pedestrian ones running between the tall buildings. The skyscraper didn't reach an amazing height, it was easily overshadowed by its neighbors, but it was still nice and decent, a good place to live.

Woffart led the human in the big hall, which almost occupied the whole first floor, and walked toward one of the many elevators dotting the room, one that was marked as number 9 in canine numerals.

"The floors are divided in blocks of apartments, each one having a specific elevator." The black furred male explained, while typing some kind of code on a keyboard that would have been gigantic by human standards.

"To reach your floor, you need to input your apartment code." He continued, entering the lift with Riccardo in tow; there was a mirror on the wall, and the human gasped when he saw his reflection in it. The cuts, while superficial, looked rather nasty, with some bloody crusts already forming, and the rest of the blood caking on his cheek. His shirt wasn't in a better condition, all coated in brownish red.

"Now you see why I wanted you to come here." Woffart said, looking at his friend with the triangular ears moving. "Don't worry about the shirt; I will wash it along with your clothes while you have a shower."

"A... shower? Are you implying I smell?" The man tried to joke, though internally he was happy that he could get some hot water on his body.

"Nooo, you smell nice! Just, I think you better take one, so you can relax and be clean." The other responded cheerful, and then stepped out of the elevator, its doors having opened. They had arrived in a window-less room, not that big, with maybe just four or five doors. The Italian didn't pay attention, preferring to follow his friend to one of them, which was opened with another typed code.

"You have windows." He noted, scanning quickly the dimly lighted room. Nothing special in it, just furniture, a pair of couches in front of a big TV, a big window forming the wall just across the entrance.

"I'm a lucky bastard. Here, the bathroom is here!" The rottie waved to his left, reaching with three big steps a door and opening it, revealing a spacious bathroom with a very big, by Riccardo's standards, shower.

"That's... nice." Was his reaction to the vision in ceramic.

"Yeah. You can leave your clothes on the floor; I will grab them once I bring you a towel and something to wear." The other male said, turning to do as he said.

"Y-you're going to come in while showering?" The human asked, strangely shy in letting his friend see him in his birthday suit.

"I won't probably peek in the shower!" The canine winked, then left the room. The man didn't think he should lament about that, he was used to be seen naked by other men after all; he stripped himself, throwing his few pieces of clothes on the floor, and quickly entered the shower, very eager to feel water on his poor body.

The glass cubicle was pretty much the same as the ones he was used too, apart from being canine size. There were two knobs, one red and one blue, obviously to regulate the temperature, and one bottle of what, he assumed, was shampoo. He briefly decided that he wouldn't use that, since he was ignorant if humans had problems with canine body products. He slowly turned the hot water on, testing it before turning the cold one, trying to find the good balance for him; once he was content with it, he delved under the stream of water, steam surrounding him.

He relaxed, letting the water flow on his body, taking away dirt and sweat, blood and shame. He gently rubbed away the blood from his cheek, being careful to not open the wounds, even though he was sure they would any way; his hands then lowered, to rub his chest and back, knitting away the remaining pain as he had learned in the army. He didn't indulge himself, too tired to get aroused, just giving a quick wash to his flaccid member, and then remained still again, to just enjoy such a luxury. It was a rare pleasure, to be able to do that, without being forced out by someone else.

Riccardo realized he was drifting to sleep, so turned off the water, not wanting to collapse in his guest's shower. As he did that, strong gusts of hot air invested him, a surprised cry escaping from him.

"Oh! Sorry, forgot to warn you!" Woffart's voice came from outside, to the human's shock, hands running to cover his crotch by their own. "I leave everything here, join me in the living room!"

He waited for the door to slam closed, darting out of the shower even before the drying process was finished.

"Not having fur help a lot." He thought, deciding that he could skip using the immaculate towel and grabbing the other piece of cloth, just aside from that. It was revealed to be a pair of gym shorts, big ones, and he almost feared that they fell down from his hips. He donned them, the hem hanging way past his knees; he tied the string as tight as possible and, even if there was still lots of room left, the shorts remained in their place.

Praying that this state of things would last, he exited, finding his friend sit on one of the couches, towels and a small box on the low table in front of him.

"Oh, already done? You were quick!" The canine exclaimed, standing up, and the human could see that, while waiting, he had stripped himself too, down to a pair of tight slips. He had imagined that his friend was muscled, but now he understood how much he was, his shortish fur showing every detail of his developed pecs and flat belly. His gaze wandered lower, to those white slips that didn't left anything to imagination, high-lining a big, huge, bulge. Redness blossomed on his cheeks.

"I-I d-don't have fur." He blurted, trying to avert his stare from the lower area.

"Uhm? Oh, sorry! Usually, I go about naked at home, but I thought I shouldn't do that with you around!" Woffart chuckled, causing even more blush to appear. "Come, sit here! I need to tend to your wounds!"

He did as he said, quickly, thankful that those shorts were very baggy, sitting on the couch while his canine friend did the same. He grabbed a towel, putting some kind of liquid from a bottle that, Riccardo assumed, was disinfectant. He braced himself, expecting some pain to come from the contact, but the only thing he felt was a refreshing touch on his cheek, gently stroked on his flesh.

"This will kill germs and ease the pain a bit. I don't have any lasers, but medical glue will be enough." The rottie said while working, spreading the medicine on his cheek.

"O-okay." The human answered, staying still.

"I think it will swell, but nothing you can't live with." The other added, posing back the towel and going for something else in the box. Riccardo looked around him, wanting to get the details of the room he missed before, and his eyes fixed themselves on a photo, showing an obviously younger Woffart with an older rottie and another canine, something similar to a shiba inu.

"Is it you with your father?" He asked, out of curiosity, while the other was applying the glue to his cuts.

"Yeah, both of them. It was my graduation." The simple statement carried more meaning than it should, one that made the human jump a bit, prompting Woffart to stop. "Am I hurting you?"

"N-No." The man quickly denied. He would have left it like that, but the canine was staring at him, almost boring a hole in his skull, forcing him to say more.

"So, your parents were discriminated because..." He left the sentence hanging, not knowing the proper word.

"Tailraisers. Yes." The black fur coldly completed the sentence for him, still staring at him.

"Is... is it the correct term?" He asked hesitantly. "Because I don't know it, in your language."

That melted the stern expression from the rottie's face. "No, the correct term is gay."

He resumed his work, adding more medicine to the last cuts. Something was bugging the human, though, and he had to express it.

"I thought there was no problem with... you know, having sex with another male. In your culture, I mean." He asked, unsure if he could do that, and fearing he might cross a line.

"Sex, yes. But love? No, that's something that the main religions don't like." The other answered truthfully, his paws now grabbing a big patch.

"So, screwing it's okay, but stable relationships no?" Riccardo exclaimed, not believing that.

"Pretty much, yes. There, now you are fixed." The big fur confirmed, standing up again. "I'm going to get something to eat, we both skipped dinner."

The human nodded, following his friend walking to another room. He reappeared immediately, without food, as if he had forgotten something.

"I'm gay too, by the way. Is that a problem with you?" He asked, and, while he was trying to play it cool, it was obvious that a negative answer would have hurt him a lot. His eyes were practically begging for the best outcome.

"Me? No!" He was quick to answer, a hand raised to dismiss the situation. "I don't see anything wrong with it! Personally, I had experiences with both women and men!"

It was the complete truth, he never bothered himself with following labels. He didn't add that he had seen more action with his own sex, but what he had said was enough to reassure his friend.

"Cool. Now, I'm starving!" Woffart said, quickly going back to the kitchen.

***** *****

That was the first evening that Riccardo passed at the canine's place. His wounds healed quickly, leaving no marks at all, except the memories of the attack, which faded away with the weeks. But that night wasn't the last; their meals together became interposed with evenings in the apartment, which added watching TV and other activities, enriching the human's knowledge.

Woffart had a spare bedroom at his place, so the man often found himself sleeping in a real bed. And having a true shower every now and then was only another perk of passing time with the amazing friend. He was more secure, healthier, and less depressed, even if he hadn't realized that he was; having some shimmers of light in his life made everything much better.

That night had changed something in their interactions too. Knowing that Woffart was gay somehow... warmed up the human. He was careful to not be naked around his friend, and the other did the same, out of respect. But his fondness of slips began to stir a cord in Riccardo, one that forced him to wear baggy pants all the time.

It was just another evening, after they ate some beef them just sprawled on the couch, watching some movie that might be about the canine's equivalent of the First World War. The weapons were so antiquate that the images didn't awake any of his memories; the lack of blasts or rays guaranteed that he wasn't going to lay on the ground in a fetal position.

Bullets were flying on screen, forcing the soldiers to fall on the ground, when the volume was lowered significantly.

"Why are you doing that, Woffart?" He asked, not really bothered by that, just curious. He looked at his friend, sit at the other end, with only his slips on.

"Uhm, there is something that I need to tell you..." The other began with a serious tone, sitting up straight. That made his pecs more prominent, but the human stubbornly stared at his friend's right in his sincere brown eyes.

"I finally convinced my high ups to hire a furless... After many attempts by me and Sapient Equality..." He explained, somberly, paws in his lap.

"Congratulations to you." Riccardo cheered, happy that his friend finally managed to do that.

"It won't be anything big... just cleaning the office, and so on... The pay won't be much, certainly lower than a canine would earn..." He continued, in short and hesitant sentences, his ears flicking a bit.

"That's not important, even that little will be more than enough." The man stated, with a smile. Sure, it wouldn't be much, but a stable pay was always good, and it would have been surely more than what random jigs would give.

"Yeah, and they gave me the duty to find a furless and.... I was thinking of you." He finally blurted out what had weighted him.

"Me?" The Italian repeated, dumbfounded by the proposal.

"O-of course, you can refuse, if you want, it's just-" Any other words was drowned in a hug that, while not as big as one the rottie would have given, was still big, the human's arms trying to circle the shoulders of the canine.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Riccardo repeated, over and over again, clinging to his friend, their bodies smashed together. The canine answered the embrace after a second, a rumbling laugh reasoning from his broad chest.

They sobered up after a while, ending the hug, even though the human was still giddy at the news.

"What's the procedure for that?" He asked, wanting to hear all the details.

"Well, I have to send a request to the Authority for the Furless." The canine explained, still sitting near the other male. "Then, we have to wait, because they will want a meeting, to decide if you are fit. We have to prepare everything for that, because..."

***** *****

One thing was absolutely the same, no matter which world: bureaucracy was slow, be it human or canine. It took quite some time, and lots of work, to finally get a meeting with the right officer. And there they were, in the Authority offices, housed in a rather non descriptive gray building in the center of the already gray and miser human District. It wasn't Woffart first time there, so his muzzle expressed more a subdued indignation than a shocked surprise to how humans were living, cramped together, with little green and space.

The two friends had waited in the lobby to be called, the room being decorated only by a small, fake plant in one corner, and the reception desk. Riccardo had slept at the rottie's place, having read and prepared everything until the small hours of the night; they had taken a big cup of coffee that morning, just to be sure that they wouldn't yawn unceremoniously.

And now they were in the head of the Furless Labor Department's office, a small room, with just a desk and enough chairs for everyone; the only touch of color was the photo of the President on the wall and the holographic screen of the computer.

"So, Mr. Rossi. Mr. Yelt here is vouching for you, on the behalf of General Agglomerate. Is that correct?" The rather fox looking bitch asked, leering at the human through her small glasses.

"It is correct, Madam." The Italian answered in short, not wanting to add more unless he was asked to.

"The request made by General Agglomerate has been filled without errors. The terms are stated clearly, and they are well in the limits decided by the Authority." The vulpine continued, scamming through the files that appeared. Her tone was just flat, not giving away if she was pleased or not, nor if she was inclined to accept the request.

"Mr. Yelt is a member of the Sapient Equality association, which means he is authorized to handle this proceeding." She added as an afterthought, after reading the file of Woffart, his reversed photo appearing on the screen. The male canine said nothing, waiting patiently with a smile.

"The formality of the request is perfect. Now, let's see if Mr. Rossi here has the requirements." The bitch said, this time a big photo of a battered and unsmiling Riccardo appearing on the table.

"You don't have family to sustain." She stated. "And here it is said you were a soldier on your planet, correct?"

"Yes, Madam. I handled all the weapons I was carrying to the canine Authorities, and I haven't owned one ever since." The human answered, hoping that his past wouldn't be a problem.

"I can see. You didn't fight against our army, as many did." The head officer added, surprising Riccardo that such details were in his file.

"You haven't caused problems, nor been in fights...No criminal activities...." She continued, slowly reading. "You haven't been properly employed before."

"I have been doing manual jobs for various shops and enterprises." He pointed out, just to show he hadn't been living on the expanse of canine society without doing anything.

"Uhm, I presumed as much." The fox said, falling in silence, as if considering the case. Riccardo hold his breath, while his friend did the same at his side, seconds becoming minutes before the bitch spoke again.

"By norm, Mr. Rossi, we prefer that furless with family get jobs." She started, her expression remaining as before. Luckily, she didn't wait to add more, doing that right away. "But this request is fitter for someone without family, like you, Mr. Rossi. Furthermore, any less furless needing the government help, the better."

"So, are you saying the request is accepted, Madam?" Woffart asked, wanting to have the fact stated outright.

"Yes. But you will have to take full responsibility of Mr. Rossi, Mr. Yelt." She responded. "That means you will have to take him in your house, until he finds a place for himself, if he finds it."

"Y-yes Madam." The rottie stuttered a bit, amazingly enough. Was he unhappy about that accommodation? Riccardo feared that his friend hadn't expected such a thing, and didn't want it. One thing is having him over for a night, but for several weeks, maybe months.

"It is decided then. You can gather your belongings from your cubicle, Mr. Rossi, after all the papers have been prepared and signed." The vulpine concluded, already typing something on her computer. "You may wait outside while I work."

They walked out, the human trying to read his friend's expression, but it stayed unchanged, forcing him to ask. "Are you okay with... this?"

The rottie turned to him, and a big, big smile, like only canines can make, appeared on his muzzle. It wasn't a fake smile, his eyes were practically sparkling with happiness, and his stub must surely was wagging now.

"Okay? I'm more than okay, everything went as planned!" He said warmly. "And I don't mind you living with me, it will be awesome!"

"O-okay, if you say so..." The other muttered, not showing the relief that he was feeling.

"Don't worry, I have prepared everything! I searched for everything that a furless needs, and the stuff that it's bad for you, and..." The rottie started to enlist chat, overexcited.

***** *****

It had been two months since Riccardo had begun his work, and living with Woffart. His job wasn't heavy, not at all like the various, tiring jigs he had been used to; and the pay was more rewarding, not only he could afford to survive, but he could also spent the money for more venial things! He had decided to give part of his pay to Sapient Equality, so to redistribute it among his fellow humans.

The cohabitation with the rottweiler had been doing fine too; pretty much everything was unchanged from before. Sure, now he came and went from the apartment freely, his turns not quite overlapping with his friend's working hours; he also decided to pay a rent, even though he was sure the canine had named a very low price.

There was mainly one, only downside of their accommodation: the feelings he had developed for his friend, how parts of him jumped at seeing his body, how his heart raced sometimes when talking with him... He never had thought about canines in that way, not in all the time he had been on that planet. It was just Woffart, strangely, like.... He saw something in the rottie that made him see past his fur.

That was silly, of course, and he told himself that much while walking in the plaza, after having finished the groceries. It was a free day for both of them, and since everything was going fine, the human had decided there was the need for a celebration. And what better food for that, other than home-made pasta?

The big canine hadn't ever eaten pasta, something that wasn't present in his world; apparently, the fact they didn't like too many carbohydrates meant that they hadn't experimented with flour too much, which meant, in turn, that they had missed one of the best things in life. Strangely, pizza was present, though, to Riccardo's amusement, it originated to what, in the old world, had been France.

The ingredients weren't hard to find, he got easily all that he needed to duplicate his grannie's famous ravioli, and he was traversing the plaza, bags in hands, to get back to the apartment, when a familiar voice called him from afar.

"Hey, Riccardo the Italian!"

He turned, to see Boris walking in his direction. He hadn't seen the Russian since the day they had talked about... his job, and his looks, even if unchanged, startled him. Had he been so dirty, and looking so desperate?

"Boris!" He greeted him, not sure if he should entertain a conversation with the burly man.

"Hey there! So, it's true that you don't live in the District anymore!" The other exclaimed, his voice like a thunder.

"Yeah, it is true. My friend found me a job, and I am living with him." He responded, trying to say as less as possible; something in Boris' stare was unsettling him...

"That is good for you! Wish everyone could find... a "friend" like that." The man said, his stressing on "friend" implying something.

"What are you meaning with that?" Riccardo asked, a chill creeping in his mind.

"You seemed so against that, when I proposed it, but it seems you went on the next level!" Boris roared, a smirk on his face. Now the Italian understood what he meant, and it was revolting him.

"He-me and him... We don't!" He protested, but it was clear the other didn't believe him.

"Oh, don't worry, you are lucky to have found a sugar daddy!" The other kept saying, undaunted. "They find you something to keep you busy and content, so you don't live in the District but in their houses, ready to be used!"

The things the Russian were saying were outrageous, Woffart didn't do that... But doubts had appeared, doubts that made him see everything in another light. There was nothing sexual, not yet, but he... he had become the dog's pet! Sure, he had a job and all, but he was still dependent to him, still his responsibility! A poor animal to save, and keep around to amuse himself and not feel lonely!

He stormed away, Boris' laughter haunting him as he run to Woffart's apartment, the buildings and the crowd an indistinct blur at his sides. He rushed inside the skyscraper, inputting the codes to the elevator as quick as possible, arriving at the floor in no time. Sense would have wanted for him to stop for a minute, so to think properly, but his mind was fogged by rage.

Riccardo opened the front door, finding him the dog sitting in the living room, shamefully parading in nothing but underwear, that unnerving smile on his muzzle.

"Hey! Did you find all you needed for your pasta thi-"

The slam of the closing door made his jump for the surprise, and a look of the human's face darkened his expression with worry.

"What's wrong? Did something happened?" He asked, quickly, rising from the couch.

"Am I your pet, dog?" Riccardo shouted, throwing away the bags and stepping toward the dog, his face red in anger.

"What are you say-"

"I am something fun to play with, eh? An animal to keep you company?" He urged forward, now standing very close to the dog.

"What? You're my friend!" The other whimpered at the accusation, ears lowering and trying to get glued to his big skull.

"The whole thing with the food... and the nights here... It was just you taming me, right? To have your little human pet!" The man spitted out, a fist held high to drive every word home.

"I-I explained you, why I did-" The dog tried to speak, but Riccardo didn't let him.

"And all so I could get a job, and stay at your house, so you could have power over me! Confess!" He pressed on, his face inches from the muzzle of the mutt. His brown eyes shifted, and he knew that he was right.

"I-I wanted you to have equal treatment, and-and not being discriminated, it-it's only the beginning..." He said, half-convinced, his ears flicking and his stare not meeting his accuser.

"Your eyes tell differently! Just say it! SAY IT!" The man screamed, at the top of his lugs.

"I... did want you to live here, with me, but-but-but..." The dog tried to confess his dark secret, stammering on the words. Riccardo just got a hold of his chest fur, pulling his muzzle near his face.

"Say it." He spitted out. He expected the following sentence, the dog revealing he just wanted to have someone around, and dominating over someone, with his power and.

And a pair of alien lips was pressed against his own. They were strange, more.... gummy, in a way, and a cold nose was pressed against his own, cold and wet, making that even weirder. The shock made him lose the grip he had on the canine, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

There wasn't much else, just a desperate contact of lips, a message of love and lust that had been unexpressed for so long. Riccardo understood then: why the rottie wanted him to live with him, with what hopes, and why he wanted him to have equal footing to himself.

Woffart stopped the kiss, separating almost immediately, looking at the other male with shyness and still desperation, but also with hope. Riccardo didn't say anything, stared back at the canine, trying to factor what just happen. The silence changed the rottie's expression, smothering the light of hope.

"I... I shouldn't have... I'm... I'm sorry!" He said with a teary voice, turning to go far away from the man. But his arm was caught by a hand, a strong hand that didn't let him go, but forced him to face his friend again.

"Don't." Riccardo said, then moved forward, and this time it was him who started the kiss. He tilted his head, so that their lips met in just the right way, adjusting the angle to compensate the different morphology. Their body smashed together, the fur feeling soft and at the same time not hiding the hardness of the muscle beneath it. It was still strange, and awkward, but that didn't stop them to experiment, their tongues starting the action soon enough.

He found out that the canine's tongue was longer, broader and almost enveloped his own, sucking on it and, at the same time, touching his teeth. He struggled from being free, wanting to explore more of that mouth, and the rottie let him, with a chuckle rumbling through his chest. He found out that it was a very, very big place, with ridges on the top, and the teeth were pointier to what he was used to. But this difference only sparked more excitement, and just tried to investigate every part of that mouth.

Meanwhile, he used his hands to have a tactile exploration of the other male's body, groping his back, feeling every muscle, his hands lowering until they got a good hold of that wonderful bottom, sizing each full orb and starting to knit them. The dog did almost the same, moaning in the kiss, while his paws posed on the human's ass, to bring him closer and grinding their cocks together.

There was no doubt that they were aroused, because their prides were both hard. There were clothes between them, but Riccardo could feel it throbbing, bigger than his own, and with something like a ball of flesh just over the balls. He chuckled when he realized it was the infamous canine knot, and that made his defense slip, Woffart taking the chance and invading his mouth.

It was strange, his mouth being fuller than it ever had been, at least during a kiss, the alien tongue taking much of the space in it. But it was still hot, and his clothes felt hotter and hotter by the minute; the canine seemed to notice, or at least assumed that, since he began slicing through the fabric with his claws, his lust not caring of destroying them. The shirt was in pieces in a few seconds, and the pants and underwear fell in a confused mass on the floor, leaving him naked, his cock stiff now pressing against the slips, coating them with its pre along with the rottie's.

Riccardo didn't do the same, instead opting to lower gently the underwear guarding the massive male's doghood, feeling it sprung with life after being freed. The most amazing feat was that they both did such things without breaking the kiss, even if now the human was obviously losing to the canine thanks to be naturally impaired. Now they were both naked, their body pressed, Woffart's fur feeling odd against his bare skin, soft and hairy, but also nice, like being enveloped in a furry blanket; but this blanket covered hard and manly muscles, as he could felt distinctly.

Their passion was even more inflamed now that nothing was between them, their hot and hard rods being pressed directly against each other; the canine walked backwards, leading Riccardo to the couch, still not stopping their exchange, and then lowered himself to lay on it, pulling his man over to cover him.

They started bucking their hips, adding the rubbing of their cocks to the pleasurable feelings washing on them, their tongue battling at the same time, even though the moans were making kissing quite impossible. They didn't care, just kept going, the human's member sliding over the canine's, all of it, his balls scratching the tender skin of Woffart's doghood. But it wasn't bad, and the pressure of something so alive and stiff made both of them excited to no end.

Their eyes hadn't closed since the beginning, but they just stared at each other, channeling their emotions, communicating what they were thinking. And at that moment they were screaming, begging for something more than a simple friction for their needful cocks, something that was much warmer and tight.

They break their kiss, listening to the desire in them, their panting faces still so close.

"W-what do you want to do?" The canine moaned, groping the other man's ass.

"N-not what are you thinking. C-can we use our mouths? J-just for now." Riccardo suggested. He feared that they were way too excited and needy to make things properly, and he didn't want their first time to be ruined.

"Okay. Turn around, big boy!" Woffart agreed, his tone urging the human to be quick. And so he did, even though he briefly took care of the last things on him, his shoes and shocks, soon launched far away from them.

Soon, he was again sprawled over the black furred male, but this time he was facing the towering mighty of his cock, something that was easily as big as the biggest human cock he had ever faced. He was fascinated by it, the member being of an angry red, veiny, rising from a furry sheath, now furled under the big knot; that anatomical part took almost all of his attention, and he grabbed it to look at it a bit more. He did delicately and, by the moan he heard, he was doing something good, with his squeezing of the ball of flesh.

Riccardo was about to lick the clear liquid oozing from the pointy tip, when he felt a furry paw around his cock, then a wet warmth surrounding it in one go, completely. He gasped, realizing that Woffart had just swallowed his entire member, without problems! But those were the advantages of having a muzzle.

Not wanting to stay behind, he just dipped his head, while he moved his hips to thrust in the willingly muzzle. He managed to take the tip and the first inches, his mouth wide open to fit the massive girth inside; the pre hit his tasting buds, and, strangely, it was the same as the human one, maybe just a bit spicier.

He started bobbing his head, one hand squeezing on the knot and while the other grabbed the rest of the doghood, the part that he couldn't fit in his mouth. He kept thrusting his hips, feeling the suctions and moaning when the very mobile tongue started to caress his member, something that no human, him included, could do.

Feeling his climax growing closer, he tried to elicit the same from his partner; with sucking harder on what he could, jerking the cock quickly, his tongue circling the thickness of the dog. The feeling of fullness in his mouth was familiar, something he had done many, many times, but the member was sure different from what he had tasted. He hoped that what he was doing would please Woffart, but the sounds he heard reassured him, like the increased frequency of the throbbing and of the pre.

He tried to fight his own climax, to no avail, since he felt it getting closer and closer, the heat building up in his balls. He tried to still his thrust, but the canine only renowned his efforts, sucking harder and harder, and squeezing even more on the knot, eliciting more and more moans from Woffart.

Giving in to pleasure, he rode the incoming orgasm, letting it explode in the muzzle of the rottweiler, who just drank all of that without question. He didn't forget to keep doing his own part of the work, bobbing his head faster and getting more and more of the delicious doghood; he was rapidly reaching the gagging point, and thought it would have taken a bit longer, but he had clearly underestimated the excitement of the situation, or his own skills.

The warning spurts were rather copious, the semen splashing on his tongue; not wanting it to go to waste, he just let the tip in his mouth, sealing his lips around it. Each shoot of white semen landed on his tongue, the musky liquid coating it in a second, he drank it, its warmth descending down in his stomach. Woffart's orgasm lasted much longer than his own, cum still flooding his mouth for a good minute, and he would have stayed there for even longer if he didn't felt paws lifting his head.

Taking the drift, the human turned around to hug his partner, nestling his head in the crook of his neck and relaxing in his arms. He felt so safe there, so secure there, feeling the strong body against his own, different in so many ways but the feeling was so familiar, so natural. They drifted toward sleep, their breath slowing, a certitude in their hearts: they might have been of different species, but their souls were equals.