Touch
Touch
By Akidas Wolf
"They were the singular object on my mind at any given time. The supple look and feel, a soft glaze of buttery soft material. The look as it fills with a hand, the fingers filling like a leather rubber, rolled down someone's erect shaft. Leather gloves, beautiful in their simplicity, they filled every waking moment of my life. I could not believe how beautiful they were, hard to describe to someone with no point of reference, but your ignorance is not of my concern.
I couldn't remember the first time I caught myself staring at someone's gloves. I doubt they noticed but I did. The sheik of the black leather spread over the hand, the three lines sewn into the back, the trademark of a fine glove. I cannot describe how the sun spreads itself over the glove, the black disrupted with the occasional fragment of light. I was but a young pup when I viddied my first full-grown male wearing a pair of black leather business gloves. He was a middle-aged wolf, a man of some distinguish, talking with my parents as the light snow of the season fell. The winter was barely starting its horrific cycle, the cold coming upon us with no promise of warmth. He continued talking as I held my mother's bare paw, me staring with my lust at his gloved hands as they motioned and changed, the fingers curling and uncurling with a slight leather squeak that made my hair rise. I cannot even remember what they spoke of, only his gloves.
For my 16th birthday, my father rewarded me with my first pair of black leather gloves. They were the perfect size for my paws. I filled the gloves with my brown paws and spent the entire night curling and uncurling my paw, listening to the squeak of leather. The hair raise gave way to something else arising. My tight jeans were often filled with my thick, pink shaft; as I slipped on my gloves, and slipped them off. The buttery soft leather rubbing through my chest fur, the sensation was nothing short of electric. I started rubbing my chest softly with my leather gloves, and they slowly moved down my chest, the fur compressing under the gentle leather. They ventured to the lower regions and sat in wonder of that moment. While I gripped my erect shaft under my bed sheets, my other gloved paw ventured back up my chest slowly, starting to rub my throat. Oh... the sense, the feeling of that soft leather rubbing my tender collar fur, it was beyond description. As my leather clad paw slowly stroked my erection, my gloved paw squeezed harder around my throat. I loved that feeling, the leather clad fingers digging into the soft tissues of the neck and my breathing coming ragged, forced gasps. As his breathing became short, he came hard into his sheets, the thick sperm soaking into the wool blankets. I fell back after that, sinking into the sticky bedding and sighing heavily, thinking about only one thing. "It would be so much better if someone else had been doing it."
I grew up, repeating that momentous night over and over again. Secretly, I was always searching to find someone else to help me out with the gloved experience. Someone else out there must love it as much as I? Where could I find them? The years passed and so did the boyfriends, none of them ever had the interest I did. Though we took turns, filling one another with our cocks and filling the latex condoms with cum. That reminds me, that was something else that I had learned to love when I found them. The condom, so much like a glove in its function, protects the cock from harm as the glove protects the hand from cold. Now, I wont say I don't enjoy a good fucking, but more than anything at all, I want to be ridden with a tight gloved paw around my shaft and throat. Squeezing hard and kneading my soft flesh."
Alice the dormouse sat down his pen and looked up from his pad of paper, smiling softly as he rubbed his hand over the paper, wishing more than anything else that he would find a solution to his problem. More than anything else, he wanted those leather paws he fantasized about incessantly to be a reality in his existence. Moments of the day did not pass when he would look at people pass in the times of fall, watching their gloved paws holding cups of coffee and glowing cigarettes.
The dimly lit coffee house reflected his look. His pampered small mouse body sat, resting comfortably in a wooden chair with a smoking ashtray sitting next to his pad. His empty coffee cup rested awkwardly at the edge of the table, begging to be knocked off. He sighed heavily and scrounged into his inner pocket on his brown leather jacket, his nimble fingers pulling the pack free. His thumb flicked the lid open on the blue package and he shook a cigarette up. He hunched over, pulling the cig out with his lips. His other paw grabbed the zippo, snapping it open on the table's edge and lighting it with a suave motion. He inhaled, causing the glowing tip to brighten and die as he blew the smoke out of his nose. The smoke haloed over his table as the music started playing again, his body outlined in the low light against the night outside. After a few more drags, he grabbed his pad and slipped it into his jacket. He snuffed the cigarette out in the scarred glass ashtray and sighed, leaving the coffee shop out to the cold outside. The wind howled down the city street, cars parked up and down the street, waiting for their owners to return like sitting dogs. His paws slipped into his pockets and he grabbed the leather gloves in their respective holds. His cold fingers wrapping around the warm leather, a feeling that made his pronounced pierced ears tingle. He pulled them out and slowly slipped them on with a tender touch, flexing his fingers in their leather coverings when they were on. He turned and started down the brick street, one of those pointless old touches that made him love Porthome so much.
His town of Porthome, the populace was 50% gay, bi and transgendered by census. He loved his town, and was sure that somewhere in the city limits there was someone like him. He looked up and down the street, admiring the neon signs that heralded business to their door. His feet carried him down his street without trepidation, walking a path he had several times before.
His gloved paws curled and unfurled as he traveled the cement path, his leather shoes tapping on the stone like a drum. He rounded his corner, nearly slipping in a black ice patch to see a fox standing outside his apartment, slowly dragging on a cigarette. He blew the smoke out his nose as his orange locks bounced with a shake of his head, recognizing the mouse's presence.
"Howdy, you live here do ya'?" The fox asked with an Irish twang in his voice, his blue eyes piercing the small mouse's body and boring through his soul. The mouse was almost frozen in his place as the fox stared at him, tapping ash onto the street. His pierced ears placed between a grey drivers cap. He smiles briefly before flicking his cigarette out into the street.
"Cat got your tongue Mouse?" The fox asks, his smile disappearing. Alice finally swallowed hard and spoke up.
"Nah sir, just caught me off guard. You recently move in?" Alice asks in his unusually deep voice for a mouse his size.
"Yeah actually, we just did, Thomas should be around here somewhere, he's probably upstairs getting dressed again."
"Thomas? What's your name sir?" Alice asked, remember that one should always be polite.
"Hatter, James Hatter." The fox replied taking off his cap and bowing so his long orange hair draped over his snout, He brought his head back up quickly, the hair falling into a mat behind his head. He set his cap back on his head. On the steps above James the door opened, a horse standing there, the light flooding out the background around him. He snorted and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Thomas trotted down the steps with a slight click of his shoed hooves, stopping next to James, planting a kiss on his ear as he wound his arms around the fox's midsection.
"Who's your new friend there James?" The horse asked, his voice was like silvery wine running over a harp. Flowing beautifully as if poured from a pitcher of purest gold, his voice made the mouse shiver slightly. He bowed his head once again in his own shame. His body feeling as thought it was being examined by a doctor, hearing the incessant nagging about his well-developed black lungs.
"I'm not sure Thomas, he hasn't told me yet." The longhaired Irish fox said. His muzzle lowering and his sky blue eyes peered out from under his white brow.
"Alice... my name is Alice." The shrinking mouse said. They both smiled, the fox setting his paw on the horses forearm and squeezing softly, the horse behind the fox narrowed his gaze. "Funny name for a lad." Thomas said with a slight giggle from James. The horse nipped the fox's ear tenderly and whispered something to him.
"Aye." James said. "Well, we have to be going now lad, see you around the apartment." The two started away, walking holding paws. He looked over his shoulder to see the fox and horse stop, both separating their paws and pulling for their jackets their respective pairs of black leather gloves. Alice watched in a trance as they rejoined their gloved paws, walking down the street towards... whatever their destination might be. They disappeared into the night like phantoms, and he stood in the cold, the street-light dimly lighting his figure and his shadow towering under his body across the snow swept street.
The thoughts ran through his mind from one extreme to the other, and he wondered briefly for a moment if he had found two people like him. The snow swept from the wind as he finally turned, and walked up the steps to his apartment, dazed and pondering. He hit the stoop of his step, and keyed in, tramping through and shutting the door behind him. Alice slumped back against his door and leaned upon it heavily, sighing softly. His blue, soft eyes scanned his spartan apartment, the singular desk leaning against a void white wall. A computer rested precariously upon the chipped wooden desk. The big, black, void eye starring at him, it looked angry. The computer looked pissed off that he hadn't touched it recently. Alice turned dismissing it with his gloved paw to set his satchel down upon the floor near entrance. He pulled his hands from his gloves, this time, paying no heed to allow himself any arousal from the activity. He freed his brown paws and rubbed them upon his thighs for a moment. He bent over with a slight groan and opened the black leather satchel's flap, pulling his writing pad free and setting it back down upon his kitchen table. His back faced his silent resident, the plastic, glowing man that was his computer. He returned to writing, his pen scrawling fast across the pad...
"... but that is what fantasy is all about. I worried in my obsession about my gloves. Spending far too much on this hobby, and still seeking. That's all I ever do it seems. Seeking the perfect pair of gloves for me, in a way, I hope they don't exist, as this is quest I never want to end. We all have our own personal crusades. Others fight for equal rights, some fight wars of ideas leaving wakes of death and destruction. My quest apparently has become akin to sexual gratification. Is there nothing more to me? Have I nothing else to add to the world around me than my love for leather gloves? "Leather Gloves..." The word alone caused me to shiver, the word rolling off my tongue like sweet drop. Obsessions can be dangerous as I have read, and I wonder for that matter, am I a dangerous obsessive? All I want is that moment of satisfaction that I have hungered for since I was pup. I never had the courage to ask another to help me, I was far too embarrassed to ever ask any of my boyfriends to help me with my obsession. And now, at twenty-five, I'm still alone. I have no one to blame for that fact but myself, I alienate others far quicker than I allow myself to be alienated. Is it possible that I have some sort of neurosis..."
Alice set his pen down again and looked up. "Goddamnit... I lost track of the story... where was I going with this?" he asked himself softly, standing to retrieve his cigarettes from his jacket. As he stood, it donned on him that he was still wearing it. He chuckled briefly and shook his head. "I'm losing my mind, I just need to focus... like I know how to fucking do that." He said as he pulled his pack of cigarettes out. He looked down at the blue pack, reading the labels. He never stopped to really do that before, he just bought them, and checked the brand to make sure it was right, but he never read the flavor text.
-AMERICAN VITALITY
PURE TOBACCO CIGARETTES SINCE 1902-
NO ADDITIVES, NATURAL SHREDDED TOBACCO
FOR A LIGHT AND SMOOTH TASTE-
Alice smiled briefly at the text on the blue pack of the cigarettes before he started hacking, a harsh and rough cough that ended with him spitting into a sink. "At least there was no blood this time..." he said, rubbing his paw over his mouth. He held the cigs in his paw as he regained his composure, he stared at them for a moment, considering the moment of pleasure versus the weight of the damage he has been doing himself.
"Well, as my dad always said, cigs were invented for the self hating artist and writer." He recited to an empty kitchen as he pulled the white butt out with his fingers and lit another day off his total life span.
Thomas and James came upon their location hours before the mouse went back to work. They sat in a placid conversational mode, speaking vaguely of the day to one another. The light and sounds of Porthome dance club made them have to raise their voices to shouting levels, which, made them very choosy of what they spoke about. Their voices were reduced to hushes as the music died, and became shouts again when the music resumed its blasting levels. Thomas wiggled his equine ear in apprehension as James tipped a glass of Tennessee whiskey back into his muzzle. The ice jingled as he sat the glass onto the steel table.
"Aye... but it's a tough call, he seems nice enough." Was discreetly heard from their table. Like a faint whisper spoken by a dying man lying in a snowy field.
Thomas shook his head in agreement, but did not offer a word in return. Merely they bowed their heads onto the table in a sort of prayer. The music continued to thump around them, the metal sound of industrial rock coasting their wishes off into a deep corner. The icy windows cast weak street light in, the club becoming a dark stockade of phantasmal dancing.
Alice grew tired of staring at his writing pad, with nothing coming to mind. He grew frustrated and grabbed his jacket again, donning it with his leather gloves. As he slipped them on he felt that rush yet again, that tingle. Dressed for the 31 degree weather outside he left his apartment, forgetting to grab his keys in his flustered rush. The door closed behind him with a subdued slam and his feet carried him down the street in a quick pace. His pace wasn't rushed, more just agitated, walking the street smoking and muttering to himself about his writer's block.
Coming up the street, he saw the familiar characters he had just encountered... or was it longer ago. How many hours had passed as he fretted in the room? He looked down and checked his watch, the time reading 4 hours later. As they came to him he stopped and watched their approach. His gloved fingers plucked the cigarette from his maw and threw it into the gutter, where it landed in a shower of sparks. The mouse finally roused his courage and he rendezvoused with the couple, wondering where they were coming from.
Thomas and James saw the mouse's approach. They looked to one another with questioning eyes. The wondered about their discussed topic, wondering to one another if this was indeed the time they should implement it. Their eyes questioned, and their bodies answered. They quickly approached the mouse, flanking him on either side.
"Hey Alice, we were wondering, would you like to attend a house warming party?" Thomas asked, keeping his green eyes focused on the door mouse. Alice looked about nervously as he was asked, wondering if this was to be a dream come true, or a nightmare to never wake from.
"For who?" Alice asked sheepishly, his voice low and gravely, his eyes centered on the snowy asphalt at his booted feet.
"For you lad." James said, draping his arm over Alice's shoulder in a friendly manner. Alice's eyes darted to the gloved paw extending from his shoulder, it becoming the answer he looked for in his mind.
"I'd love too." He said almost entranced, staring at the gloved paw as it flexed, the leather creaking. It sounded so musical to him, so wonderful when it was someone else's gloved paw made the sound. Thomas and James turned, escorting Alice to their apartment in a slow walk.
Alice's eyes kept darting between their respective gloved hands. The large equine male's glove was the standard black leather with the 3 stitched lines across the back, the box fingers coiling and causing a rumple in the leather. The Fox's were similar in their make, however missing the three stitches. The back of the glove was smoothed and beautiful, reflecting first the street light and then the hallway light as they walked, and Alice was lead.
Finally, they came to their apartment and he was allowed entrance. They walked him to a leather sofa, he removed his coat and laid back upon the soft material. His tight black shirt rumpling up on the small of his back. His hands felt hot, and in question as to why, he looked down to see that he had never removed his gloves. He considered removing them for a few moments, than decided against it. He looked up to see Thomas sitting in a large velvet recliner, lifting his jean clad legs with the foot rest and reclining back with a deep sigh. James was behind their kitchen counter, the room's layout was basic. A bar divided the kitchen, while the stove and what-not was behind it. The soft smell of scented candles and the supple aroma of leather danced about the mouse's sensitive nose.
James kept pulling bottles from the cabinets behind the bar, mixing drinks. Alice felt uneasy about this, it seemed strange and far too placid for a party. He never was truly a party animal, but he none the less wanted to seem hospitable, to appear to be a good neighbor until he was given reason to act otherwise.
Finally, James returned with a tray of mixed drinks, the pink and yellow liquid filling long, yet thin glasses. Thomas reached out with his gloved hand and took one off the tray. Alice watched it, realizing also that the horse had never removed them. He didn't notice at all, he wasn't watching either of them as he sat down. He surveyed Thomas, looking at him intently for the first time since their short encounter. The aging equine was medium in size and stature for his race. His eyes were deep green and his fur was a supple tan/white. He wore a white dress shirt, his neck decorated with a black tie. His normal legs were clad in dark-wash jeans, the fit almost too tight to be comfortable. The jeans did indeed show off a substantial bulge. His mane was ponytailed into a blonde knot and his face was youthful, roughly the same age as Alice.
Alice's blue eyes wafted upwards to James meeting his equally blue eyes. James was similar in size to his equine partner. His orange fur was separated on his face with a white muzzle. Long orange curls crept out of his cap, coming down roughly to his shoulder line. His frame was wide, speaking of the great potential for muscle. Under the leather coat he was wearing, a blue polo shirt with a flattened color covered his white chest fur. His legs wore equally dark and tight jeans, and in Alice's starring, he again took the time to inspect the impressive crotch that the fox's pants hid. His eyes tracked James as he came to sit down next to Thomas, both their drinks in their respective... gloved paws. James never removed his gloves either, Alice felt remised in not noticing. He was a glove fetishist after all, these are things he should have noticed. But this time, other things captivated his mind, mostly the drink he was being served, as well as their beautiful eyes. That was another of the things the mouse did enjoy, vivid, bright eyes, and the dou's definitely qualified as being beautiful. Alice sipped his mixed drink, finding it to his liking as he continued to viddy the couple. Finally, he decided to break the silence.
"You both have very nice gloves." Alice managed to squeak in a nervous tone. Thomas and James looked to one another, and smiled while they inspected each other's gloves. Finally Thomas looked back to Alice and nodded.
"Aye, we do appreciate fine gloves, as its obvious you do as well." Thomas said, pointing with his drink at Alice's gloved paws. They looked to one another and finally James broke the silence.
"There is something we were wondering, and we wanted to ask you this, sorry to be too forward if it is, buts an object of curiosity of us that we were discussing. Are you by any chance gay?" James asked. Alice looked surprise as the color drained from his ears. He sheepishly looked away for a moment. "Oh, sorry if we offended you Alice, we were just asking..." Thomas started, his tone sincere and honest.
"No, its quite alright... I am." Alice responded with a slight smile. What the couple misunderstood was that it wasn't shame that Alice felt, but more unabashed glee. For a moment, he thought he had finally found some gay glove fetishist's to share his love with. Thomas and James smiled, James looked to Thomas, and Thomas nodded to him. James got up and moved over to the couch and laid his hand on him, sitting next to him and draping his arm over his shoulders, like he had done minutes before... or had it been hours? Alice didn't know how much time had passed since he arrived, not that much could have passed, he had only been there for a few minutes. When he looked down to his drink to his vivid surprise most of it was gone. A sticky looking yellow residue had covered the sides where the drink previously had sat against the side of the glass. Alice gulped as he wondered what was going on. The gloved paw started rubbing his shoulder, grinding the leather thumb into his shirt, his fur feeling the impact. At that moment he wished he was nude to feel the glove rub over his upper arm. He couldn't stop a churrrr from echoing from his mouth as he felt it. Thomas stood and sat at his other side. He looked down to the dormouse and placed his gloved hand on his stomach.
"You like that don't you...?" Thomas asked as he rubbed his gloved hand sensually over his stomach. "You see Alice, we have a proposition for you, James and I were considering this for a while, and then you showed up, the perfect specimen for what we wanted." Thomas said.
"Ask and ye shall receive..." James cut in, adding his other gloved paw to the mix, running it over Alice's own gloved paw.
"Quite. We were wondering if you were into S&M at all as well Alice... we have been wanting to get a slave for quite some time, and you seem to be the perfect candidate, even more so now that we know of your love of our gloved touch."
Thomas continued as he ground his leather clad paw into Alice's stomach. Alice was off in his own paradise while Thomas talked, not really paying attention to what he was saying, just enjoying his bliss. His jeans finally tented as his seven inch long, one inch thick cock pressed from its sheath into his tight pants.
"Ooooo...." James exclaimed as he saw the pants tent, he moved his gloved paw down and started massaging Alice's crotch. Alice finally made sense of what he was told as the gloved paw caressed his obscured penis. The gloved hand encouraging him to open up, to let his Id take full control of his ego and at that, he finally made sense of what he was being asked.
"I'd love to be a slave to your gloved touches sirs'." Alice said, his head leaning back, his eyes shut as he tried to get the most from the event. Alice for a moment couldn't believe the circumstances upon which he stumbled. His most singular wish in the space of... however much time had passed came to fruition. He ground his pelvis into James's gloved paw and moaned softly. He noticed that one set of gloved hands left his body, he straightened up his head and opened his eyes. He watched Thomas return with something in his gloved paw. Thomas returned to his recliner and sat a pill down onto the table.
"The deal is Alice, take this pill and all your obligations to the real world will be void, you will disappear... forever, you will spend the rest of your time with us, being our servant and slave, the upside is, you will get all the sex and food you could ever want. You will be well treated, but you cant go back once you take this, it's a one way trip." Thomas said, his gloved paws perched into a bridge before his mouth as he spoke. James continued rubbing his crotch, now more vigorously than ever before. Alice felt his heart start to quicken, the rubbing of his crotch by that gloved paw and the prospect of his dreams coming true were building to a powerful orgasm. His cock pre'd a stain into his pants, a wet spot spreading at the top of his bulge. Alice wondered for a few moments on the prospect of what he was offered. His life as a part time writer would end, his story ending at the last sentence he had written. His obligations to his very few friends would disappear, and his family... his family that had not talked to him since he came out. The way he saw it, he had everything to gain, and nothing to lose. How shortsighted of the mouse.
The fox continued rubbing his crotch and as the feelings of servitude and passion climaxed, he did as well. The stain expanding far across his lap as he came, his quick gasps and small pants signified what had happened to Thomas, who watched with enthusiasm as the stain spread.
"So that's a yes I take it?" Thomas asked as he pushed a glass of water over to Alice.
"Uh-huh..." Alice managed weakly, he reached forward and plucked the pill from the desk, he deposited it onto his tongue and swallowed the pill with a long drink of water. As the water and pill rode the pipe to his stomach, his ears vaguely picked up on music in the background. He couldn't recall that music had even been playing. It was faint, like hearing it through your dorm-mates wall at one in the morning. The lyrics were familiar, the baseline for the guitar reminding him of his wilder youth.
"Follow me now and you will not regret, leaving the life you lead before me met. You are the first to be mine, forever with me till the end of time..." He couldn't place the song, but he knew it, and he loved it. He sat back, and thought about the new life that would begin for him, and in the back of his brain, he heard his logic and reason center screaming. His grip on reality started to slip away, his ideas or vague notions that still fired in his cerebral cortex started to give way. He figured it must have been some sort of sleeping pill... the last thought that he entertained before he fell asleep.
Alice awoke finally lying on something nowhere near as comfortable as the leather couch he passed out upon. His arms were bound harshly behind his back and his tail pinioned with them. His feet were still free to move he did his best to straighten up, coming to his knees then falling back upon his rump. He looked around at this room in the dim light. The floor was concrete and cold to the touch. His naked body shivered where he sat.
"Hello?" He asked, his voice echoed for what seemed to be forever. "What room is this?" he thought to himself, his vision not being able to make out anything beyond where he sat. It was so odd to him now that he thought about it, where was the light source coming from? There seemed to be a meter wide halo of faint light around his bound body, but the rest of the room was black to his eyes. That was another thing, dormice have amazing low light vision, he could drive without headlights if he could do so legally. But this dark was impenetrable for his eyes. He saw nothing, and he felt only the cold of the room on his back.
"Hellooooo?" He called again. To his amazement, a door in the distance opened, he saw the crack of light as the door turned on its hinges. In the distance, the door was no larger than a matchbox. The light stayed there however, not wavering or moving. Alice noticed that he felt as if he was being dragged with great force, his legs pulled by unseen hands. The matchbox door way accelerated to him at terrifying speed, he fought the unseen grips and tried to slow down his acceleration. He started to slow and the door way became its regular size. The white from the archway was blinding to Alice, he could look into it, his head turned away, keeping his cheek to it. His eyes shut and the light seemed to penetrate for a moment, than stop abruptly. He opened his eyes again to see a hulking, muscle bound Thomas walk out of the door. His back that was once straight was literally curved by the muscle on his shoulders and arms. A leather harness decorated his chest. The supple black crossing his chest in a curved X, covering very little of his lightly tan fur. His nipples were pierced, heavy gold rings dangling from the pink flesh. His arms were bare, however ending in his supple black leather gloves. Alice was shocked as Thomas drudged in, his form was so much more menacing, his face had seemed to change. What was once a playful, yet aged expression was replaced with a young malice. His green eyes peered straight through the soul of the slave. He stopped his approach, standing in front of Alice. He raised his gloved hands and cracked them, the sickening crunch of shifting tendons caused him to shudder with fear. Where was this erotic sense he so craved. There was nothing erotic about this to him, it was terrifying to his fragile mind.
"Yes?" he asked weakly, not sure what to do. His question was answered with a vicious strike across his muzzle, he felt his teeth cut into his jaw and his head drooped, dazed by the blow. Blood dripped thinly from his muzzle onto his crotch.
"Speak when spoken too!" Thomas shouted at him. He tried to look up to only see a rope drop quickly before his eyes and come up hard under his chin, pulling his head back with a gurgle. James was holding it, he looked up into the fox's eyes. The vivid blue that yelled of vitality was replaced with a very cold, hard glare. James crossed the rope behind Alice's head and started to pull up, effectively choking him. He gurgled and thrashed, trying to get loose to only find James tightening the garrote more violently.
"Stop thrashing slave, or you will not live out your first training session!" Thomas shouted, punching Alice with his rock hard gloved hand in his stomach. Alice responded with a muffled whimper, groan and shriek. His fighting ceased and he became placid as he was violently choked from behind. The blood backwashed in his head, he could feel it swelling and his muzzle went numb. Spots danced before his eyes as he tried to inhaled and get very, very little air. He panicked on the inside, wondering if he was going to die. Wondering if that decision to live out his fantasies was all that smart.
Suddenly, the pressure was released and he breathed in deep, his head falling back to be caught by a pair of gloved hands. He felt the gloves push him back into a kneeling position before Thomas. Alice was dazed, the whole ordeal being lucid, like a waking dream. All of it seemed real, yet none of it did. He coughed, his sore trachea bruised and injured, his throat aching from the harsh rope garrote. He felt James kneel behind him, his leather paws pushing into his shoulders, bending him over. Alice just leaned forward, his sense knocked from his body. His mind was in an emotional purgatory of excitement and terror. Thomas sat down before him, his massive horse cock in his gloved hand. He held the cock out to Alice, offering him the flattened tip of the tube like appendage. Alice opened his mouth as wide as it would go, taking in its tip. The salty taste of pre covered his taste buds. He sucked gently as he felt fingers probing his tail hole, running over its edges and pushing on his button. Thomas withdrew his cock suddenly from Alice's mouth as he felt a thick cock from behind punch into his body. He clamped his jaw down; suddenly realizing why Thomas had withdrew his member. The burning sting of flesh being stretched beyond its boundaries made him nearly cry. There was no soft lubrication applied, none of the partner warming up, telling him he's pushing it in. There was no time for him to call back with the timeless phrase, "Easy... gently". What felt to be the short and thick cock of James rested comfortably in his warm and tight ass. James started to pull out to the very tip and push back in with the same brutality as the first joust. Alice's rear quickly went numb to the preverbal rape of his backside as Thomas pushed his cock again into Alice's mouth. Alice did the best he could to suck on it while his anus was constantly filled with James's pride. Alice felt something warm drip down his thigh, he bobbed his cock with his pelvic muscle, feeling his long thin mouse cock rub up and down his soft thigh fur. Leave long streaks of pre. He thought back to what was going on, and realized that his mind had finally decided that this sexual thrill was maddening. He felt horrific, but his body couldn't help but to enjoy the pleasure.
After a few minutes and the chorus of groans became high pitched whimpers and utterances, he felt something unfamiliar, a warm stinging flood in his tail-hole. He had never had unprotected sex before, he had never felt that sensation... till now. He didn't consider the protection, the or inherent fear of what I could get. Herpes, Hepatitis, A, B... C, HIV, Gonorrhea... Syphilis. He didn't even think of those as the cum slicked cock pulled from his opened anus. The horses cock shot up and across his muzzle. The thick seed covered his fur and the pungent smell filled his nostrils. He couldn't raise his paws to clean it from his muzzle he just sat there, wet and used. He didn't look up, he couldn't bear too, a single spot on the floor was the sum total of his focus.
"Good boy... good dormouse." Thomas said. While Alice heard the words, they meant nothing to him. This was not as he fantasized. He remembered his younger days, pleasuring himself to this very scenario... but it brought him no pleasure. The feelings of being helpless did nothing for him. He looked back down to his throbbing erection as he felt the gloved hands of Thomas pat his head and draw a line from brow to chin. He saw that gloved hand touch and stroke his face... and he felt nothing.