By Richard Thatcher © 2004
Stephen Darcy, male human who is 6' 4" tall in excellent physical shape with green eyes and black hair. Ex-military (He was infantry and in the thick of several very serious combats where he saw a lot of other troopers killed.), mustered out after twelve years. Quiet, almost brooding, he's a tough bastard that no sane and few insane people want to cross. Kind of a jack-of-all-trades type with a pretty good knowledge and experience of the seamier side of society. Could hold a steady job but chooses to drift around.
Mattia Sanderson (Formerly Kessa), Fem fennec foxtaur
Stephen Darcy stopped at the cliff side's edge and looked down at the raging water almost a hundred feet below. The sight of the white water rushing tearing through the gorge was impressive and breathtaking!
"Be a hell of a kayak run if you were crazy enough to try it," he mused to himself.
Turning away from the river, the 6' 4" tall man scanned the immediate area for a place to hide his heavy backpack. Though it was unlikely that there would be anyone this far back in the sticks to steal it, he wanted it out of sight just in case. A line of tall bushes about 70 yards away caught his eye, and further investigation revealed that the cluster was wide as well as long.
"Perfect!" he thought as he shed the pack.
Crawling several feet into the brush, he found an open spot big enough for him to be able to sit up or lie down in. Stephen unstrapped the sleeping bag and pad and set them on the ground. Next, he sorted through one of the pack's outside pockets and fished out a couple of food bars, ripped the wrapper on one open, and bit a piece off of it.
"Cripes!" he thought. "You'd think with all the advancements in this modern universe, that they'd be able to make an energy bar that would taste halfway decent!"
As he gnawed on the bar, Stephen let his mind wander. He had been hiking through this section of wilderness for nine days now. Though not the most avid of backpackers, this trek was a much better alternative to the mess he had left at his last place of work. He had spotted the law enforcement types just in time to turn a corner and keep on going. Later on he learned that the gambling establishment that he had been doing spot maintenance for was raided minutes after he had left.
"I told them they were staying too long in the same place!" he mused. "But would they listen? Oh no, not a chance!"
At times he wondered why he bothered to try to pass out such common sense advice.
"If sense was so common, all of us wouldn't have 90 percent of the trouble that goes on today."
Suspecting that the law types might try to pick up stragglers, he chose to drop out of sight for a few weeks, and he figured this was about as out of sight as one could get. He didn't worry about getting work. A good jack-of-all-trades man was always in demand, even in a civilization that had starships and space colonies. The fact that he was willing to turn a blind eye to "questionable practices" made him more in demand in the seamier haunts that pervaded any and all civilizations and societies.
Through a gap in the brush, a flash of movement caught his attention. Someone paced up to the edge of the gorge. Stephen leaned forward to get a better look.
"Hmmm, what in the world would a fennec foxtaur be doing here?" he thought. "This is WAY out of his... correction... her species territory."
The small vixen slipped off the pack that she carried, and dropped it to the ground. She eased forward a little more and looked straight down the face of the cliff. After a moment's study, she backed off and sat down next to her pack and opened it up. Rummaging through its contents, she pulled out a comb and a couple of brushes. Closing the pack, the vixen picked up one brush and started working on her fur. Stephen looked on as she groomed. He was downwind of her so he didn't worry about her scenting him. As long as he stayed quiet, she would not know that he was there. Stephen reviewed what he knew of her species.
"Smallest of the foxtaurs. Arid region dwellers. Located mainly in the deserts and dry regions in North America."
Putting down the brush, the fennec fem reached back and unfastened her halter-top and took it off. Picking up the other brush she commenced work on her torso fur.
The jobs Darcy chose to do, threw him in with a lot of different people. And not all of them were human. Oh no, not by a long shot.
Societies had some members that just didn't fall/fit into the generally accepted norm. These members were criminals, misfits, outcasts, and many thrill seekers. Most humans thought that all the foxtaurs lived in various small communities throughout the areas of land that were designated as wilderness preserves. A visit to any large city's "lower side" would do a lot to dispel that illusion. Though not as common as humans and some other species, alien as well as genetic construct, a city's "lower class" had it's share of foxtaur outcasts as well, and Stephen had worked with and, in a few cases, for some. Most weren't too bad. To be frank, Stephen found that he preferred the company of taurs and other nonhumans vs. his own species. Over the last few years he had developed a rather low opinion of most of the human race.
Finished with the brush, she picked up the comb and began running it through her long blond hair. Stephen could see that it fell almost to the upper shoulder of her foreleg.
"She takes good care of herself," he noted.
Not that that was surprising. Most fur folk had a well-developed grooming instinct.
The comb joined the brushes on the ground and the vixen stood up. She stepped up to the cliff edge, bowed her head, closed her eyes, and brought her hands together just under her muzzle.
"Praying?" he thought.
Something raised the hackles on the back of his neck. He didn't know what it was, but something wasn't right. As best he could, Stephen looked around. There wasn't any sign of danger. His eyes returned to the praying fennec and the sense of foreboding got worse. There was something about her stance that triggered a vague memory from his past. He had seen something similar to this before, something during his military time.
She dropped her hands. Her eyes remained closed.
Stephen burst out of the bushes at a dead run. A mixture of horror and fury spurred him on!
The vixen crouched.
And strong hands grabbed her hind legs just before she could get out of Stephen's reach. Her weight yanked him down chest first onto the rock, knocking most of the breath out of him. Gasping he held on for a few heartbeats then worked at dragging the limp body up to him. One hand at a time, he inched his hands down along the limp form's hind legs until he got a firm grip the upper, meatier, parts of her hindquarters. With a scream of pure rage, the man jerked the furry body upwards and threw it backwards over his body. Rolling over Stephen jumped to his feet and pounced on the dazed vixen. Grunting and swearing, he picked up the limp body and carried her back from the edge, all the way to where he had been hiding, and dumped her on the ground. She lay there and started sobbing.
"Why? Why?" she cried.
"Why, what?!" demanded a hard voice.
"Why did you save me?"
"I want to end my life!"
"Because... *sob*... it has n...no purpose."
She yelped in pain as a steel-hard hand grabbed hold of her hair and turned her head so that she was looking at her rescuer. The sight sent a shiver of real fear through her form. The expression on the human male's face was one of hard anger.
"So!! You can't give your life purpose!!!" he snarled.
Stephen almost grinned as she yipped once more when he yanked her head to one side then the other.
"Look at me!!" he growled. "Take a REAL good look at me!!!!"
Through tear-filled eyes, she did so. He waited for her eyes to clear.
"You want purpose?" he ground out. "I'll give you purpose!!"
The fennec whined as he pulled her, by her hair, up to a standing position. He slapped her with his other hand when her looked up at the one he was holding her by. The shock shut off her whine.
"I SAID look at ME!!!"
Coldly, Stephen looked her over. Standing, brown-eyed vixen's eyes barely reached his eye level as he knelt in front of her. She massed about half his own weight. Her main body fur was a dusty yellow color offset by a white blaze that started under her chin, ran down the front of her neck, spread out on her chest and midriff, and then down along the underside of the rest of her body. Firm little breasts: on a human fem they would have been barely A-cup in size but on her smaller form they looked invitingly large. For some reason, his gaze on her tits made her self-conscious. She brought her arms up to cover.
"I didn't say you could do that!"
Her arms dropped and, tremblingly, she stood for his inspection. His grip tightened on her hair and Stephen drew her head a little closer to his face. Flint hard eyes bored into hers.
"No purpose?" he asked silkily.
A hard shiver rippled through her body. A feeling of runaway fate washed over the fennec 'taur as Stephen's free hand softly caressed her cheek ruff.
"Since you can't give your life purpose, I will!" he whispered fiercely. "At least, I'll give your body purpose. You are mine!! I will do with you as I please where I please and in any manner I wish."
He traced the line of her chin with a fingertip.
"You can't make it as a free individual so now you will live as a complete slave. My slave!"
A sense of unstoppable destiny came to her as Stephen continued to speak.
"I'll use you! As a servant, and a pack animal, and a sex toy."
She was mesmerized.
"I'll give you to other males, human, humanoid, and 'taur, to fuck and to use in other sexual ways. Females too."
He released her hair.
"You will live a l-o-n-g life and by the end of it you will be very well used. More used then a hundred or more other fems."
Stephen placed a gentle hand at the back of her neck. Mattia had stopped trembling.
"And it starts now."
Something in her made a choice. Her eyes told him she was his.
"Undress me!" he commanded.
With somewhat shaky fingers, she pulled his shirt out of his pants, undid the buttons, and slipped it off his arms. The vixen had to stretch upwards some to pull his undershirt over his head. His scent wafted over her. Despite his being of a different species, the male smell of him was stirring her up inside. She started to get damp. Folding her legs under her, she reached down and opened up her Master's trousers. He stood up, as did she, and her hands slid the pants down his legs and he stepped out of them. Small hands hooked in the waistband of his shorts, and she pulled them down as well. Stephen took a step back and gave her time to look him over.
"Goddess!" she thought as she craned her neck to look up at him. "He's a giant!"
Most humans she had seen were in fair physical condition, but the male standing before her was in fantastic shape by comparison! Tall, narrow at the waist and tapered, muscle sculpted thighs. Yes, his body practically screamed raw power. She was surprised to see two long thin scars running diagonally across his abdomen and chest. The medical science of the day could have easily erased them. Their presence added to the rough looks and power he exuded. She felt small and weak before him. Stephen grinned when her eyes locked onto his sexual equipment. Just hanging there, his dick was showing some four inches in length.
'Like most males, human cocks can double, or more in length when fully aroused,' her memory kicked up for her.
"Turn around and hold still," he ordered her.
She complied. Her ears cocked this way and that as she heard faint rustling sounds coming from behind her. They stopped and she heard him coming towards her.
"Hands behind your back, now!" he snapped.
The vixen reached around herself and Stephen snagged her arms and positioned them so her lower arms were going almost straight across her back. He wrapped some kind of strap around her left wrist, then around her opposite arm close to the elbow. The process was repeated with her right wrist and other arm. An experimental tug revealed that there was very little give to the straps.
"Adhesive strapping," he explained. "Sticks only to itself and is stronger than old-time duct tape for holding the unwilling."
Next, he hobbled her forelegs then her hindlegs. Fear was starting to creep over her again.
"What's he planning," she wondered.
Stephen stood up. One hand touched under her chin, tipping her head up so that she was looking in his face.
"Now, my little slave vixen, time to put your body to use," he told her softly.
He started with light caresses along the sides of her muzzle and cheek ruffs, then progressed to her throat, shoulders, and upper arms. The touches were soothing and pleasant. Darcy moved to her left side and knelt close beside her. He reached around her upright torso and she felt his big hands rove over and explore her chest, ribs, and midriff. One hand cupped a small firm breast as the other moved to stroke the length of her horizontal back. The fingers and thumb worked at scritching along her spine.
"Mmmmmmmm," she hummed as she arched her back. "Feels like I'm being nibble groomed."
She lifted her tail as the fingers scratched at the base of her tail root. A finger and thumb tweaked one of her nipples causing it to harden. He did the same with her other nipple and got the same effect. Her lungs were gulping air as she panted. His actions fanned the sexual fires in her body. The most intense of these centering in her lower groin and breasts. He played her body like a master did a fine musical instrument. The hand left her back and the fingers played teasingly around the edges of her sex.
"Goddessssss!!" she thought. "He's had to... have had 'taurs beforrrrrre!"
A finger probed into her cleft then withdrew. He held it just in front of her nose. Through slitted eyes she saw the sheen of her secretions coating it.
"Heh, heh. The little slave is absolutely dripping sex. So ready for her Master to use her body for his pleasure," he whispered in her ear.
He moved to stand in front of her and took her head between his hands.
"Lick my balls."
She hesitated for a heartbeat. The hands on her head tightened and pulled her closed to his groin.
Her tongue flicked out and the tip lapped across the underside of his ball sack.
Lick by lick, she stimulated her Master's cock to stiffen and grow in length and thickness until it stood out from his groin.
"Lick the underside of my dick."
Damp tongue slid over the rough skin and veins of her owner's member. She used the tip to trace his scrotum. Soon his dick was at full nine inches of attention and looked almost as thick as one of her wrists. The sight of it stirred concern within her. The most well-endowed fennec tods she had mated with were about seven inches in length and none had the thickness she was looking at now. The fem trembled at the knowledge that this male's log would soon be plowing through her cleft and stretching her vaginal channel. He released her head, stepped behind her, and knelt. She turned her head to look behind....
"Eyes FRONT!!!" he snarled.
She snapped her head back around. Hands took a firm hold on her hindquarters.
"Lift your tail and keep it up."
A hot point touched her cleft. She held her breath as it parted her and slowly bored its way more and more into her sheath. The hot invader stretched her as nothing before had. The sensation was uncomfortable but not painful. Then her eyes bugged out as he bored through the unused part of her sex tunnel and stopped just short of her cervix. To say she felt stuffed was an understatement!
"For a non-virgin, she's tight!" he noted as he held her against him.
Stephen had had sex with several vixen 'taurs, but none were as small as this fennec fem. He started, in long slow strokes, sawing in and out of his furry slave. Her fuck glove twitched and pulsed around his pistoning meat. As she adjusted to the hard intruder fucking her, the fennec noted that there was a big difference between mating with a tod and this human taking her. There was no weight on her back. Since she didn't have to worry about supporting a partner with her body she was able to concentrate on the pleasure she was starting to get. The discomfort faded and the flames of desire licked once more within her. Soon she was rocking back to meet each of his thrusts. He released her and used his hands to caress and stroke her back, sides, and underside. Hands returned to her hind hips and stopped her motions while he ceased his.
"Huh? Why did you stop?" she asked.
An iron hand clamped on the back of her neck. She realized the mistake she had just made.
"Questioning your Master's actions little fuck toy?" a deadly voice inquired as the pressure on her neck increased.
The hand left her neck and returned to her hip and there they held for a moment during which the fennec fem felt her sexual fire die down. Then the cock started up again and began restoking the heat in her loins. As she got close to her climax he halted once more and let her cool down again. This went on for what seemed a very long time. Each build up promised to deliver the peak she wanted and each halt denied it to her. It got frustrating to be so very close but not get to the last bit, not to quite reach the peak. It showed as she tried to force the issue by attempting to rock her hips from side to side to try to get the last bit of friction to send her over the edge of sexual satisfaction. He laughed softly as his superior strength halted her movements.
"The slave must learn patience," he counseled. "Her Master decides when, if ever, it's time cum."
"Goddess!" she thought. "He's going to drive me insane if he keeps on teasing me like this!"
She relaxed and he resumed moving in her once again. In, out. In, out.
"Mmmmm, he hasn't lost his hard-on during all this," she observed as her "steam" boiled up.
The pleasure mounted up. Climbing higher and higher.
"He'll stop soon."
Close. So VERY close.
It hit her, and it was all the more potent because she hadn't expected it to come. Her body locked up as the carnal tidal wave rolled through her! The only things that moved in her for several seconds was her heart and the ring muscles of her sex tube which were doing their best to drew out Stephen's jism. He sank himself balls deep in her, held, and let his cum fly into his warm furry's body. The kiss of his hot seed on her cervix triggered another climax. The next pulse of male essence fired into her and the next climactic shock hit her! She saw white in her eyes! Her intelligence was gone, swept away by a hurricane of sensations that didn't seem to end! Her human lover held her against him as his balls continued to move and pump their cargos of sperm into the vixen.
"Lord! It's been a long time since I'd felt anything this good!" he thought as he emptied the last drops into the madly working milking machine around his dick.
The 'taur stood frozen for a bit more time, then she collapsed. Only Stephen's hold kept her falling totally to the ground. With a wet sucking sound he pulled his semi-hard shlong out of her and eased the vixen the rest of the way down, then he sat back himself. She lay on her side and, as time passed, her ragged pants lessened as she recovered. Moved close to her Stephen stroked a hand over her heaving side.
"Such a passionate little one," he stated. "So very responsive."
The light of intelligence relit in her eyes.
"Creator of... all!" she huffed. "I thought you... *pant*... had killed me!"
Stephen grinned as he continued to run his hand through her fur.
"Not likely! Remember, you are to live a long and very well-used life," he reminded her.
When she got control of her breathing, he removed her bonds and let her rest. While she did, he got a towel out of his pack and wiped himself down, then did the same with her.
"There's a stream about two hours walk from here," Stephen informed her. "We'll go there tomorrow morning and clean up."
The two crawled into the bushes and Stephen picked up his sleeping pad, pulled loose three Velcro tabs on one side, and opened it out to twice its original width. Next, he undid the zip fastener on his sleeping bag and spread it out as a blanket.
"Come and lay down here," he said, pointing to a spot on the pad.
She settled on the spot indicated and he lay down with her and pulled the blanket cover over them. As they got comfortable something occurred to Stephen.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"I'm Kessa," she informed him.
"No, you are not," stated Stephen, firmly. "Kessa is dead. Her remains, such as they are, are somewhere downriver, and in not too long a time, even they will cease to exist, consumed by nature."
He turned her muzzle so that she was looking him straight in the eye.
"Your name is Mattia. Mattia Sanderson. Your reason to exist has been, is, and will be to obey and serve me in all things. I command, you do."
Her gaze met his for a little longer then she dropped her eyes.
He pulled her close against him and the two drifted off to sleep.
Stephen and Mattia took several days to hike out of the wilds. The two of them lived off the food in his pack. They had left hers plus all the stuff she had brought, including her halter, on the cliffside.
"You take nothing with you," he commanded. "None of it is yours, it never has been."
He had another reason for leaving it all behind.
Stephen Darcy hummed to himself as he strode down the street. It had been a good day. He had completed work early at his new job and saw to the completion of a couple of projects that he had in the works for more then two months. The results were satisfying. Turning to the door of an apartment unit, he climbed the stairs and unlocked the first door he came to. As it opened, the odor of cooking food wafted across his nose and sent his taste buds clambering. Heading into the kitchen, he spied Mattia, wearing an apron, in front of the cooker's oven, and she was just taking out a roasting dish. She turned, went to the table, and set it down. Taking off her oven mitts, she looked towards him with a shy smile.
"Real luck that she's a darn good cook. I get tired of fast food and my own cooking," he thought to himself.
The apartment complex was in an area that was the border between the "normal" city and the "rougher" part of it. The flat they had consisted of two bedrooms, a kitchen, a nice sized bathroom, and a spacious living room. Though it and the furnishings were on the worn side, the place was clean and everything in it worked. Mattia had her own bedroom, but bedded down with Stephen most of the time. He got her new tops and shirts, plus a few very nicely made blouses. There were also two silk garments that passed for robes, though they were nothing more then nice shirts without pockets. In the time they had been here, Stephen had fucked Mattia in just about every part of it. The vixen had fine-tuned her oral and hand techniques as well.
Mattia removed her apron and draped it over the back of a chair and waited. Stephen washed his hands then sat down at the table and took the cover off the dish.
"Baked pork with the trimmings. Nicely done, Mattia," he commented.
She stood, waiting.
"Join me," he said.
Hopping up on a long, padded bench, the vixen sat down. Stephen forked out slices of the meat onto his plate, then did the same with another and placed it in front of her. She didn't start eating until he did. When they finished, she loaded the dishes into an old washer and started it up. Stephen relaxed on the couch and beckoned her to join him. Mattia settled herself next to him. Pulling a data card out of his pocket Stephen slipped into the appropriate slot in the tabletop vid unit. The screen lit up, displaying a couple of photo images and a batch of text. Mattia froze at the sight of herself in the first photo. The second showed a backpack, two brushes, and a comb lying near the edge of a cliff. The halter was missing.
"Came across this today," explained Stephen. "Seems some fennec foxtaur fem either fell or jumped into a river at some place in the wilds. They found a few fur strands on the cliff face near the top. Looks like it happened almost nine weeks ago. The rangers did a search downriver but didn't turn up anything. Not surprising considering that her body would be hammered apart against the rocks in the rapids below and there were several other places with rapids further down river. Seems the river was running high and swift due to three days of rains upstream."
He scrolled down to the bottom of the article. Mattia blinked as she read the last line.
"Authorities have designated Kessa missing and presumed dead."
"My, such tragic end," Stephen commented as he shut down the vid unit.
Reaching into his shirt pocket and produced a card which he held out to her.
"Take it," he said.
Mattia did and examined it. It was a general ID card and her image was on the upper left corner and all her basic physical data was on it. Buried in the card was a data chip that had all other pertinent data records stored in it.
"To replace the one you lost," he explained.
She gazed at the name "Mattia Sanderson", then back at the picture. Somehow this seemed to finalize her new identity... and life.
"Thank you," she said.
Stephen watched her as she hopped down onto the floor and went to her handbag to put away the card.
"Knock! Knock! Knock!"
Mattia's eyes followed the Master as he went to the door. Few people had come to their place and she wondered whom this might be.
"Come in, gentlemen," Stephen said to the four human males standing outside.
He closed and locked the door after the guests had entered. Mattia felt a small shiver move through her. The men were all looking at her, and there was the light of lust in their eyes and their faces as they stopped close to her.
"Here she is, gentlemen. Take your time and enjoy," she heard Stephen say as he headed off towards the bathroom.
She stood there, frozen. A hand trailed fingers through her long hair. Another hand caressed along her left upper arm. Mattia saw Stephen come back and toss a couple of clean towels on the couch. Hands were roving all over her body, stroking, exploring, and feeling her out. Stephen disrobed and sat down on the couch. Someone took her top off. An instant after that happened mouths wrapped around her nipples and started to suckle on them. Mattia body blushed as carnal warmth flowed. Her owner took hold of his cock, looked over at her, and started to masturbate. A hand moved her tail up and fingers of another teased around her sex. Though her mind seemed to float in a fuzzy fog she was very aware of what was going on with her body, and her responses. The tip of a hot poker probed at Mattia's cleft, then the meat stick slithered into her already damp channel. All the time her eyes were on Stephen as he looked on and fisted his now hard dick. He looked her in the eye and before hands turned her head to the cock that was waiting to fuck her mouth, she saw Stephen mouth something to her. She knew exactly what it was.
"I give you purpose."
Her body had purpose. And the males used it VERY well.
End of the Beginning
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