This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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Aikon fled, the facility behind him, though it was run-down, a sort of ramshackle affair after the demons had taken it over. His breath clawed at his lungs, though his blonde hair was still cropped close to his skull, at least ensuring that there was one less problem there to get caught on overhanging tree branches and the like.
Out, away. He saw flashes of them, struck across his vision as if there was a glitch in his head, broken technology coming to the forefront of his mentality. Trees grabbed at his skin, the tangle of undergrowth that was planet earth heaving and writhing, pulling at him. Demons had taken over, the land post-apocalyptic, if one was inclined to look at it that way, though it hardly felt like that when one was hacking and gasping for each and every breath in the middle of it all.
Flee, he had to flee. He pulled sticky pads from his skin as he ran, stumbling, stifling his curses. He was making enough noise as it was. What machines had he been hooked up to? The demons were more intelligent and articulate than he could have expected, though their appearance, well... It was all he could remember. One day life had been normal and then the ground shook, opening cracks in the earth for them to crawl out from, monsters from the abyss, creatures that even hell had turned away.
And he had been captured. He'd been sent to do...something. He couldn't even remember that, his memory tangled, confused, though all he knew was that he had to keep running, had to keep going. That was all he could do, all that he longed for, pushing on, breathing heavily, the ground tipping down under his feet.
He didn't know what the demons had planned. He didn't know the extent of what lay behind or even what lay ahead. All that he knew was that he had to escape.
However, things were afoot that even Aikon could not have expected if he'd had his full mental capacities, blood pumping, his body responding - but all in the wrong ways.
What?
He shook his head, pressing on, blood trickling down his palms, but there was something awry, his muscles aching, contracting in weird ways. How long had he been kidnapped? He remembered flashes of dirty, filth-encrusted rooms, hallways that seemed to go on forever, forced to march with his head down, always down. They wanted him, wanted to wipe out the remaining humans forever, but that was hardly something that was not already common knowledge. That was the way of demons, of the monsters that had ultimately become the ruling class of a world falling into destruction and ruin.
He was not out in the wilds but a city of sorts, though buildings crumbled where they were of no use to the demons, the streets empty. Some held remnants of cars and vehicles of times gone by, nothing like the beastly monstrosities that humans had had to create to take on the monsters simply to survive, but they were of no use to him either.
Still, something throbbed, heat rising, his skin prickling, evening pulling the sky into grey twilight. They rarely saw the sun anymore.
Ducking into an underpass, the tunnel flickering with light, electricity remaining even if the source of it, to him, was unknown, he took a moment, chest heaving, bent over. The need to expel what was in his stomach rolled over him and he very nearly hurled, forcing down the bile that rose in the back of his throat at the last moment possible.
No. No. He had to be strong. The faintness from that... He licked his lips, vision swaying. The faintness would make him weaker if he gave in to it.
The light buzzed. His need rose. But that didn't mean that he understood it, hunched over and staring at his own crotch as a bulge rose there, thick and needy. Aikon blinked but the sound that lifted from his lips could only be described as a groan, twisting into itself, curling and winding.
What was wrong with him? He arched back against the wall, standing up tall, his shoulder blades pushing back into it. He shouldn't have been horny, not after everything... What the fuck had those bastards done to him?
And the only answer he had to that question was, "whatever the fuck they wanted".
In their world, there was no patience, no law, no reason. There was only what those in power wanted, what the demons yearned for, greed and evil overcoming all else.
He tried to ignore it, stumbling on, but he barely got to the end of the underpass before he was down on his knees. Cursing, he fumbled with his trousers, the thick cloth not letting him get into them all that easily, trying to tear through and failing at that too. He growled, but his cock was out and in his hands without any knowledge of how it had happened, just how it had gotten there.
He didn't know what he was doing, why he needed it, gasping and heaving, lust overcoming him.
"Oh, fuck... Fuck... What..."
But words would not come as lust overpowered him, his engorged shaft throbbing into his hand as if his body thought that he'd never get off ever again. He could only try, whimpering, grunting, one sound twisting into the next, hips bucking. Bracing a hand on the ground, he rounded his back, head tipped down, though he couldn't help it, jacking off as if there was nothing left for him in the world, rougher than he had ever been with himself.