Defeating Yourself
by Fur and Fantasy
NC-17 for M/M Rape
full contents and notes located at the bottom of the file

"Ah, good." A pleased light male voice Ulysses Feral did not recognize greeted to painful and largely unwilling return to the conscious world.

The tall, heavyset kat moaned, lifting one hand to his pounding head. Every inch of his body throbbed or ached. Felt like something large had hit him. Very, very hard. Repeatedly.

It took a moment longer to remember that was exactly what had happened. The Leonin leader had faced off with him one on one in the middle of the battlefield. Feral had been swatted like a fly. He was big, for a kat, but these Leonin were built like titans.

A shiver ran down his spine. His men would all be dead by now. The penalties for taking up arms against the Leonin were severe.

"Are you cold?" That light voice was back, near his shoulder this time. "I can get you a blanket.

"No," he said, shaking his head even though that sent the entire world spinning. "I'll be fine. Eventualy.

"There is no reason to suffer here," the male persisted, clearly disturbed by the refusal. "I know you are used to being covered."

"Covered?" The statement made no sense, until the kat was able to focus clearly enough to realize that he was chill, just a little. The stone he was lying on seemed a little harder than usual. The throbbing in his head spiked as alarm rushed through him.

He was naked. He was lying on a stone floor, entirely nude.

He managed to quell the instinctive shout of alarm. The leonin might be intending to execute him, but that was no reason to show weakness. "Yes," he managed to say once he had himself under control again. "Please."

Over the pounding in his head, he heard the pair of bare feet hurry off with the jingle of fine jewelry about him. The young Red Fox returned a moment later with a soft, light blanket and a small box by the handle.

"Here, you'll feel better soon," The youth promised with an eager smile as he offered the blanket. "I brought a few other things. Painkillers mostly. You look pretty beaten up."

"I am," Feral replied as he took the blanket and wrapped it around his waist. The pounding in his head seemed to have recceded enough to allow him to sit up, although when he tried it he was left trembling and propped up on his arms, trying not to throw up. "I'll bruise all the way down this side," he managed to continue speaking, although his voice was much weaker than he'd like. "At least."

The Fox nodded and offered Feral several white pills and a glass of water. "Lord BrightClaw can be very rough when he is displeased."

"I'd noticed," Feral croaked, taking both the pills and the water and drinking it slowly. He found himself wondering whether there were any internal injuries. He'd been through some fairly debilitating scrapes but he couldn't remember waking up from anything and feeling quite this wretched.

It didn't help that he was clearly in a holding cell of some kind. One that the Leonin clearly designed to remind everyone of his power. It wasn't a nice modern facility of metal and glass, but rough, carved stone more than an arm's length thick at the barred window and door.

It would have been kinder if he'd been killed on the battlefield. Which might be precisely why he wasn't.

He pushed himself backwards slightly, fighting the vertigo that movement produced until he felt the cool, solid stone against his back. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back until it was resting against the wall too. Obviously BrightClaw wanted the bruises to come up before his public disemboweling. Either that or he wouldn't risk ruining the spectacle with the victim's inability to stand without vomiting.

Not that he likely had anything in his stomach anyway, which was likely the only mercy the beating gave him. It put his hunger well into second place of his concerns.

What the little Fox with all the shinny jewelry was doing in here though ....

The thought was interrupted by a soft sigh of relief as tendrils of blessed numbness began to enfold his head. The painkillers were kicking in. If the fox had more of those he could stay for as long as he liked.

=============

Waking was never kind to Feral, not since the battle. Every time he woke it was to a pounding pain in his head and a nausea that seemed to take longer and longer to receded each time it gripped him. Sometimes he couldn't even sit up without the little fox and his pills.

Sometimes he got them, and sometimes he didn't.

This time he was lucky, if that could be applied to anything in his current life. The fox was there, a very worried look on his face as he came closer.

"You're hurt worse than they thought." He murmured, a slender finger ghosting across Feral's jaw, picking up a little blood there.

"I'm fine," Feral protested, although even to him it sounded weak. "I just need ..." The end of the sentence was drowned in a wave of coughing.

"I just need some more of those pills."

"Oh, dear god."

He could hear the horror and terror in the fox's voice even over the rushing nausea in his own mind and body.

The next thing he heard, must have come from the fox, but it was high, sharp and in a language that didn't make any sense.

The world spun and Feral found himself down on all fours, struggling for breath as all sense of balance abandoned him. There was a dull pain somewhere in his torso and then he was throwing up onto the floor. An expanding red puddle covered the floor between his hands as his stomach heaved again and again, the taste of blood obliterating everything else.

He was only vaguely aware of being hauled to his feet by much larger people, at least two of them, and hurried off to a place of much warmer temperatures and soft everything, even lighting.

"Give him to us," A voice emerged from the shapeless light, somehow unlike any voice he'd heard since he woke here. He was sure he could figure out how if the walls would imply sit still for a few moments, but even the effort of trying sent him spluttering again and spilt a wash of red down his front.

He changed hands. Now many smaller hands were carrying him.

"Breathe this," he was told, moments before a too-sweet scent rolled over his senses and washed everything away.

============

Bad news, Lord BrightClaw knew it just by looking at the other Leonin. It was the way he held himself, as if he were trying to take up as little space in the room as he could. As if he were hoping to be overlooked, and not have to risk his Lord's temper. No wonder this one never got anywhere, still clinging to the females. He didn't even have the backbone to run messages properly.

"Speak," He rumbled, not even bothering to put a trace of extra authority in his tone.

"My Lord. Your prisoner, the Feral, has been taken to the females. It would seem he was more wounded during the battle than we thought."

"I see," he rumbled in displeasure. "Do they believe he will live?"

"They believe so, but he is very weak. He has vomited up a great deal of blood. It is possible that he will not survive."

"Understood." He dismissed the messenger with a single look and turned his attentions to more important things. All that and nothing Canious hadn't already said.

==========

Voices. There were voices out there somewhere in the light and the warmpth.

"The bleeding has stopped. He will survive."

There'd been blood. An unpleasant memory shifted in the sluggish depths of his mind, that thick rich taste flooding his mouth.

"Lord BrightClaw will be pleased. he's made it clear that he has plans for this one."

"Then we may see him again, before the end."

That'd be nice. It was relaxing to lie here in the warmth, unable to focus his mind on anything even if he tried. No plan that included a return visit could be a bad thing.

"Maybe, maybe not. He may simply put an end to it all at once."

"Males."

There was something in the voice that made him want to laugh, but he couldn't quite figure out how.

"We will need to make him presentable, fortify what blood remains in him. Perhaps if we administer ..."

There were more words after that but they tumbled over him like a waterfall, all noise and no meaning, until everything rolled away into the light again.

===============

"Ulysses?" A sweet, light male voice greeted his next true awareness, and with it memories of hard rock and a slender red Fox that wore little but trinkets and his pills made real again.

Blessedly absent was the merciless pounding that had always accompanied wakefulness in this room. For a moment he just lay there and reveled in the lack of pain.

"The females said you would live, and recover." The Fox was telling him.

"Yes," Feral said, a touch of surprise in his voice. "I feel much better."

"Good," there was audible relief in that light voice. "Do you feel up to eating something?"

Feral drew himself up into a sitting position, pleased to find the presence of the blanket protecting his modesty and the absence of the usual vertigo and nausea. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards when he saw the earnest expression on the young fox's face.

"Perhaps a little bit," he allowed and was treated to a good look at the Fox's ass as he hurried off to fetch whatever was served to prisoners here.

Those round, firm globes were certainly a factor in the fox's nakedness.

Feral shifted so that his back was up against the wall again, taking up a position that made him feel somewhat more secure. At least in the short term. Down here there was nothing like long term security. Hell, there probably wasn't even a long term.

At least he was feeling better. Even the tenderness along the side where he'd been beaten was mostly gone. Too far gone. He looked down and was shocked to see that his bruises had not only come out, but were now well on their way to fading.

"That place," he said as the fox returned with a small bowl. "How long was I gone?"

"Almost three weeks," he said quietly and offered the big tom a bowl of stew with large chunks of meat in it.

"Damn," Feral swore under his breath as he took the bowl. He must almost have been dead. The Leonin had practically beat him to death with his bare hands.

There was no way they would have wasted that much medical care on him if it was going to be a slow death to get out of here, either. Whatever his fate, it was likely to be something inventive.

"Thankyou," he said belatedly as he began to eat. The food was very strongly flavored, surprisingly so for prison food, and much more pleasant to focus on than his probable fate.

The reply seemed to startle the Fox a bit, then he smiled shyly. "Better than field rations, I hope."

"Surprisingly," Feral nodded, rediscoveing his hunger as he ate. "Not what I'd expect in a place like this."

"It's a little better than what's served to most prisoners," the Fox acknowledged. "But you are not most prisoners, either."

"That's not entirely comforting," Feral told him.

"It's better than where they put those waiting execution." He shuddered. "Lord BrightClaw has special plans for you, I think."

"Again, not entirely comforting. He's already beat me almost to death."

The Fox paused, considering the feline for a long time. "You really don't know, do you?"

"I think it's safe to say not," Feral told him, still mostly concentrating on the food.

"He's not planning to kill you." He said simply. "I don't get assigned to prisoners facing that."

Feral stilled, his eyes watching the fox very carefully. That was not at all like what he knew of the Leonin. They were not forgiving creatures.

Whatever was happening it was likely to be unpleasant in the extreme.

It wasn't something to dwell on either.

He might still be able to escape, though. The Fox seemed to have easy access through the door.

Difficult to escape without a little more knowledge of what was out there though.

"Just where are we?" Feral asked. It was obviously a permanent emplacement, probably inside the Leonin controlled lands.

"Master BrightClaw's palace," the Fox smiled easily at him, as if that was the only answered needed.

It just about put death to any idea of escape. Even if he could somehow get out of the prison section he would then be confronted with having to get out of the palace complex and then miles and miles of enemy territory. All while naked.

And grabbing a guard for his uniform, while possible, was not going to be easy. Lord BrightClaw might hit harder than most, but they were all built like tanks and about as easy to take down.

Outside assistance was a laughable idea. His own troops had been decimated on their own soil, no-one was going to be sending assistance into the heart of Brightclaw's territory.

His options were evaporating rapidly.

As long as he had his claws, though, he always had the final option of stealing the satisfaction of his death from the Leonin.

As distasteful as it was, it would probably be better than whatever was in store for him otherwise. His fingers flexed and tightened around the bowl as he considered it. That could only be the last resort.

It wouldn't be possible while the fox was here anyway. For whatever reason the youngster seemed to have taken a liking to him, and would probably try to stop it happening.

No, the fox had been assigned to him.

Why would a prisoner have a servant assigned to them?

"You're always here," Feral said, letting the fact hang between them.

"Of course," the fox looked confused for a moment. "My Master assigned me the duty of seeing you well again."

"So that I'm prepared for these 'plans' he has." It wasn't a question.

"He has watched you for some time," the little male smiled a touch uncertainly, almost confused by the situation. "Your name is not unknown in these halls as a powerful warrior."

"Not quite powerful enough," Feral said wryly, fingers brushing against the faded bruises down one side of his chest.

"Not with Master BrightClaw on the field," he nodded with some pride evident. "But you rest and eat up. Lord Konin will be by in a couple days to see that you are ready."

"No doubt," Feral nodded, his mind already working at the timeframe. A couple of days was not much time to find new options.

"Are you still hungry?"

"No," Feral said setting aside the bowl. "That was good."

The little fox nodded and took the bowl over to a section next to the barred door and set it in what looked to be a pass through area.

"The guards will take care of that, I suppose?"

"In a few minutes," he nodded easily and settled on a small ledge in the wall to watch his charge. "They're pretty good about moving quickly here. Not as good as what we get in the harem, but not too bad."

So there were guards in the corridor, and fairly vigilant ones at that. It also explained just what the fox was doing with so little clothing, although not what a part of BrightClaw's harem was doing here with him.

"A much less pleasant assignment, I'd imagine," Feral said, covering the line of his thoughts.

"Oh, it's not too bad." The Fox grinned. "You're not bad to look at, now that all the blood is out of your fur, and sometimes it's nice to get a break from the nonstop sex. I like seeing outside the complex, even out here."

"I meant for the guards," Feral said, but he found a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth again. There was just something about the fox the encouraged it.

Even more so when his light, playfull laugher filled the cell. "I imagine so, though they don't get to play with us on watch."

"I doubt they'd risk it in any case. Being caught with your pants down is never a good move for a guard, even if it's technically allowed."

That set the little fox off. Peals of laughter echoed in the halls for a long moment, drawing a curious look from a passing guard until he saw who it was, then simply shrugged and went on his way.

"Have you been here very long?" Feral asked, suddenly curious about the companion who'd watched over him.

"My whole life," he nodded, easily chatting about it. "My mother's brother took us in when she died giving birth to my younger brother. They're domestic servants here, but I grew up pretty enough to catch Lord BrightClaw's eye and he took me into the harem when I was fifteen."

Feral just nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging fashion, not trusting his voice to hide what he felt about the idea.

"It's really pretty good, as things go." The fox happily rambled on. "The food is good, we get treated better than most and don't want for hardly anything. There are pools and grasslands and Master BrightClaw even had a small stable and grounds built so we could go riding when he took in a pair that were fixated on horses. They're really good stock too."

"Fixated on horses?" Feral repeated, desperately hoping the images that had leapt into his mind were wrong.

"Yeah, I guess they were into competitive riding and stuff before they came here." He shrugged slightly. "Kept getting edgy and all wound up for no reason until thy had a couple good horses to race around and stuff. It's impressive though, when they feel like being competitive. They set of this course of jumps and turns and go at it full speed, trying to get the fastest time without knocking anything down. Those animals can move when they want."

"Yes," Feral nodded, relaxing slightly. "So I've heard."

"Anyway, there are pools for lounging and swimming, lots of open space, computers and art supplies and anything you like to do in your free time your provided with the supplies for. It's not like a lot of the harems I've heard about, Master BrightClaw is really good to us."

"As long as you're good little boys," Feral said.

"Well, yeah." He shrugged and chuckled slightly. "But why wouldn't you be? I mean, what's out there that's any better?"

Feral almost had to bite his tongue to do it, but he managed to keep silent, simply shrugging. The fox had been perfectly content to be a sex object since he was a child, he wasn't likely to understand what had led Feral and his family to take up arms against his master.

"I'm sure there are things," he said in the end, unable to keep completely quiet.

There was a pause, vulpine curiosity against uncertainty. In the end, the Fox's nature won out.

"Why did you fight him?"

"Because we wish to rule ourselves." Feral said, trying to make it as simple as possible.

It still gave the fox pause, his elegant features scrunched up as he tried to work through the concept.

"Do you think him unfair?" The fox tried again, trying to understand this odd idea, or at least the reasoning behind it.

"The Leonin make everyone their slaves, whether that's what they call it or not. We intend to live for ourselves, not for them."

Again the fox had to think about this hard. Eventually he looked up at the big tom with something akin to understanding in his bright hazzel eyes.

"It is very important to you." He said softly, sure of his words, even when he didn't truely understand it. "More important than living itself."

"It is living," Feral said with a nod.

The fox nodded slightly. "I am sorry for you then."

"Yes. I suspect I will be too, before long."

The canine cocked his head, then nodded as silence fell between them again.

--------------------------

"Get up." A Leonin guard's gruff command was directed at Feral, not the Fox lounging nearby in the stone cell.

Feral shot a glance the smaller male's way, but if the fox knew what was going on he wasn't giving anything away. Slowly, warily, Feral got to his feet, the blanket secured around his waist.

It earned him a snored of amusement from the dark sandy furred feline as the barred door was open and Feral caught a glimpse of three other guards, all Leonin, ready to deal with anything he tried.

"Get out here. It's time."

Despite the trepidation those words engendered he squared his shoulders and stepped forward without so much as a glance backward. He knew he couldn't afford to show any sign of weakness in front of the Leonin, his situation was bad enough without their contempt to make things worse.

It got a little harder to keep that poise when the blanket was ripped from his waist and tossed to the Fox, who was following silently behind, apparently not at all disturbed by what was happening.

He almost seemed ... happy.

Feral clenched his jaw and forced himself not to try and cover himself. He was impressively built for a member of his own race, but even the smallest leonin was a mountain of muscle. It was hard not to feel exposed. There was something like an itch in the small of his back, where he was certain a blow would fall at any moment as the guards repeated the treatment their Lord had given him.

It was a blow that didn't come. Instead he was roughly shoved down the hall, giving him a glance at empty cells along the way. A few were occupied, the various creatures in them looked like they'd received much the same treatment that had landed Feral in one.

Then his eye caught a familiar shade of brown and black in one. A thrill ran through his body, although he did his best to keep it from showing. Jeremy Darkeye was an exceptionally resourceful kat, and trained for just this sort of situation. Feral wasn't sure why he hadn't been slaughtered along with the rest of the troops, but he knew Darkeye would make the Leonin regret the decision.

More importantly, as long as Darkeye was alive Feral wasn't as alone as he'd thought. There was still some sort of chance.

Now all he had to do was stay alive long enough for Darkeye to do what he did best. Though from the look of him, he was getting the beatings his leader had avoided so far.

That much at least didn't surprise. No-one who took up arms against the leonin could expect kind treatment.

The guards escorting him didn't seem to care they'd exchanged glances, as long as Feral kept walking as he'd been directed to. Which was just the sort of attitude Feral wanted to encourage. Let them think there was nothing going on.

Then they were out of the cell block and into a cleaner, more open part of the complex. He only saw a bit of it though, until the lead guard opened a door like so many others and walked in, clearly expecting Feral to follow.

The smaller feline didn't hesitate, despite the gruesome things he could see from the corners of his eyes. Anything with that many sharp points could only be intended to inflict pain, and there were far too many points in the room for Feral to be comfortable. He focused on the Leonin who had led him in there in an attempt to control the fear growing in his chest.

Two of those behind him roughly grabbed his arms and shoved him down on a table hard enough his back likely bruised from the impact with the hard surface. Even before he caught his breath again his wrists and ankles were securely fastened, locking him spread eagle and naked.

It hit him then that the table wasn't a normal one. It had extensions for his arms and legs and a hook for his tail. It would give whoever came in next easy access to his entire body.

He'd discovered Darkeye too late, he realized as he gave in to his fear and struggled against the bonds. What the leonin wanted wasn't a public spectacle, but a private, intimate death. An opportunity to take his time and gloat over his captive.

Feral was never going to leave this room.

"It won't hurt much," the little fox's voice was suddenly in his ear as the guards chuckled and left, leaving the pair along in the workshop of horrors. "Those bonds were designed to hold stronger than you."

Feral very much doubted the first half of the statement, but the second was evidently true. The muscles in Feral's arms bulged and strained but couldn't draw even the tiniest amount of give from them.

"Lord Konin is good at what he does." The canine insisted, his voice trying to be reassuring. "He takes good care of us."

But Feral wasn't going to be reassured. After keeping the growing fear of what the leonin would do with him buttoned down the kat was now beginning to panic. The pulling against his bonds grew more desperate and more violent, even though he wasn't producing anything like success.

The Fox sighed and moved away, picking up a small bottle and a cloth. He doused it liberally and gently set it over Feral's nose and mouth, determined to calm the big tom down at least a little.

The kat's body tensed and his head whipped around towards the fox, shocked. A moment later the smaller male could see Feral's eyes dilating as the fumes took effect, numbing his mind and the panic which had taken hold of him.

It was not the best way to meet Master Konin, but it was far better than the struggling fear that had been there. After he lifted the cloth away, he regarded the body spread out on the table and it's half-expected state.

"I do hope you are not too wound up to respond to normal touch." He murmured and brushed a slender hand across Feral's cheek. Then he slipped down the side of the table and around to between the tom's spread legs.

The bound kat didn't reply, the warm relaxation spreading visibly along his torso and down his legs. His breath deepened, moving into a smoother, more relaxed rhythm and his fingers uncurled from the fists they'd made as he struggled.

By the time the relaxation reached Feral's feet, the fox was gently massaging his inner thieghs, slowly and skillfully working his way up and inwards to the large pair of balls and loose sheath in front of his nose.

Feral shifted slightly in the restraints, and mumbled something incoherent, but was all the response he gave as the fox rolled his balls across his fingers. Despite himself the younger male found himself wondering if he'd used too strong a dose. As much as he wanted this to go well it didn't seem like what he'd learned of the big kat to so quietly accept being handled.

It was a moot point now for the most part, so he turned his full attention and considerable skill on arousing Feral fully.

There he was not disappointed. Feral had gone wanting for intimate contact for almost a month between the dungeons and the time he spent recuperating with the females, so his flesh responded eagerly to the practiced touch. By any standard except the leonin's this kat was impressively built, and that was reflected in his groin as much as anywhere else.

The sight and smell of success was more than enough to relieve much of the fox's fears, and was quite enough to arouse him as well. With a lick of his lips at the fully hard male bound on the table he made an agile leap up, landing neatly with his feet on the little space not taken up by Feral and straddled the bit tom's hips. He rubbed his ass shamelessly against the hard flesh and kissed his way up the tom's chest.

It would have been impossible to spend as long as he had locked in a room with this kat without thinking about what he'd be like, perhaps even more so since he always covered up. His body was delightfully hard beneath him, both the firmness of muscle and the warm pulsing of his maleness as it rubbed against the curve of his rump.

There was no doubt time to play a little. Lord Konin never minded it when he got a new member good and relaxed beforehand, even if he usually ended up repeating things when the nearly black Leonin was present.

He slipped up a ways, shifting so he could face the delightful length he'd encouraged from it's home and easily closed his mouth around it, taking the long, thick shaft all the way down his throat so his pointed nose was nearly against Feral's balls.

The thick, straining cock responded immidiately, ejecting a small squirt of pre-seed into the fox's mouth. The smell and taste of feline arousal was a very familiar experience for the fox and the thickness of Feral's musk in his mouth triggered a pleasant clenching inside his body.

When he was sure the big tom was wet all the way down, he let him slid from his mouth and turned around again to sink onto the lovely thick cock. Just the thought was enough to make the fox tremble in excitement.

A soft vulpine whimper of desire echoed around the room. He really hoped Lord Konin would be pleased with what he saw. Already he wanted Feral in a way he'd wanted only a few others. He wanted the larger male to want him.

Such thoughts were quickly abandoned as he sank onto the hard shaft, stretching and filling him as few others in the harem could. This big tom was glorious, even in his sedated state. To have him awake and hungry for him would be such an experience.

The thought sent a twinge through the fox that had nothing to do with the glorious thickness in his body, or the weight of the balls now resting against his rump.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, ghosting a hand across Feral's chest. "You'll understand later."

He gasped as the rock hand cock brushed against a place inside him that sent electric tingles out to the tips of his fingers and set his insides clenching. Slowly he lifted himself up along the shaft of flesh, feeling the drag of the tom's barb-hairs against his insides and then sinking gradually downward to fill himself again.

It was exquisite, the feeling of this male he'd desired for three weeks and some finally deep inside him. Even better when pleasure awoke old instincts and the tom began to moan and thrust up, pushing even deeper inside him.

Oh, but what it must feel like to have him atop you, driving down into your body with all the strength those muscles promised. He closed his eyes and imagined it as his smooth ride up and down that shaft was interrupted by the upward thrusting, gasps escaping his chest as that exquisite maleness stretched him open and rubbed against all his most sensitive spots.

Oh, this would be so good when Feral finally adapted to his new life.

Unfourtunatly it's wasn't ment to be this time. Even with the fumes coursing through his blood the kat's body was ready to explode after it's long abstinence. Already he could feel the slickness of pre-seed against his insides.

He moaned and panted softly as he worked the shaft with his body, tightening around it as he moved and it moved. He wanted this tom's seed in him now.

A desire that was amply rewarded as Feral's back arched and he released a long, low moan. After such a long time unused his balls were full of a thick, hot seed which fountained out into the warm spaces of the fox's body, spurt after spurt after spurt until it seemed it'd never stop pumping into him ... an outcome he prayed for with strained whimpers of pleasure as his own seed splashed on the broad brown chest under him.

"I see you are doing your usual job," Lord Konin chuckled as he closed the door behind him. "He is rather out of it, however."

The fox had to take a moment to regain his breath but he ducked his head in submission almost immediately.

"It could not be helped, my Lord." He whispered softly. "He was fighting so hard, it took this much to get him to stop bruising himself on the straps."

"No matter," the dark Leonin shrugged and looked over his new subject with a critical eye as the small canine wiggled off the shaft impaling him and slipped to the ground.

==============

The first indication that Feral was returning to himself was as arm curling down around Fox's body, drawing him against the solid chest. It made the small male's heart leap twice over, once for the affectionate gesture and again because he had begun to fear he'd administered entirely too much of the fume that pacified him.

He let out an utterly relieved breath and nuzzled the big tom, no longer in a hurry to have him wake. It was an entirely too rare a thing, to get to snuggle like this as far as he was concerned.

Feral managed an incoherent mumble, his muscles stretching as the stimulus drew him closer and closer to true consciousness. Fox had discovered that the kat's body was surprisingly warm and he reluctantly resigned himself to the fact it would probably shortly be withdrawn. He was about to have a lot of explaining to do.

He got to bask in the experience for fair bit longer than he expected though. The kat mumbled something about delaying breakfast, using a name which Fox wasn't familiar with, but the comment went out of his mind when Feral's hand swept firmly down his side.

Oh, what this kat's touch did to him!

Even if he was not so inclined, he knew he'd respond almost as eagerly as he did now, nuzzling in close and licking gently at a newly pierced nipple without thinking.

He touch drew a gasp, perhaps not of pain, but certainly discomfort. Feral's eyes opened and he rolled away, rising to a half crouch. Still the warrior.

"What is this place?" The kat asked warily, taking in the much more opulent surroundings.

"An adjustment room for Lord BrightClaw's new harem members." Fox told him softly, making even more of an effort than came naturally to appear harmless and non-threatening. From the look he got he might as well have said they'd been transported to the moon. He honestly wasn't too surprised with what he knew of the kat, but it was still a little weird. He waited patiently and calmly for him to ask something more direct.

Slowly his face shifted into a more determined cast. "I am not going to be some leonin fuck toy." He'd understood after all.

"You have little choice," he said softly. "You will not be killed."

"There's always a choice," Feral insisted.

Fox regarded him quietly, uncertain just how to answer that, for he was sure it was a question of some kind.

"Not that I know of." He replied cautiously, his uncertainty showing.

Feral shook his head, glancing down along his body and finding the new piercing that had been put in. His fingers brushed against a nipple with it's silver ring and fine golden chain to the other side and he scowled.

"It looks good against your fur," Fox supplied, honest in his words and appreciation for the decorations much like his own more elaborate ones.

"It's ridiculous," the kat retorted. "It's the decoration of a fop and an ornament."

"Still looks good," Fox said more softly, almost cowering but not quite. Part of him recognized that this tom was not likely to take that irritation out on him.

Something in the tom's deep eyes told him the shift hadn't been missed. "Are you afraid of me fox?" Feral demanded, taking a long step forward.

"A little," he answered truethfully, but didn't move back any. "You're very strong."

"Very," Feral nodded, but he found himself unable to maintain his fierce demeanor towards this fox who'd watched over him when he was ill. "But you needn't fear me."

Fox nodded and stepped close, nuzzling the much bigger male. "Good," he smiled. "I like you."

"I like you too," Feral admitted after a pause. "You've been good to me."

Fox rumbled in pleasure and nuzzled him again. "You'll find a lot of folks here are. Not many Leonin come out, either."

"I like this place already," the kat snorted, about as insincere as he could be.

"There are worse places to be," Fox said quietly, trying to get Feral to see some good out of this. "Where this is life, there is hope, I've been told."

"Some, perhaps," Feral said, thinking of the familiar kat he'd seen in the dungeons. "But any leonin who thinks he's putting his private parts on me is going to find them torn off."

Fox had no answer for that. He knew Lord BrightClaw would have his way at least once. There was no helping it. Neither was arguing the reality of the situation with Feral likely to do any good.

-------------------

Feral kept his composure despite his nudity as he was led through the halls of the compound. First out of where the harem lived, then into the more austere halls of the Leonin. He knew who he was about to face. What he didn't know, was what the Leonin Lord had planned.

Whatever it was he'd face it unbowed. He refused to give up what little respect he might still claim from these leonin, not matter how he hated them.

He was partially grateful for the silence of the guards, though it would have been useful to have chatty ones too. Any intel was important in his situation.

"You will stay in the outer room until Lord BrightClaw comes for you." The lead guard told him with a warning in his gravely voice before grate double doors were opened to reveal a private audience chamber with a heavy curtain concealing what lay beyond it.

"Of course," Feral replied genuinely, in no hurry to barge in on the brute who'd all but killed him. Quite to his surprise, all three guards left him with the door shut behind them.

Feral shuddered, glad to be free of their eyes crawling over his flesh. He despised this nudity, the sense of being exposed to them, but there was little he could do about it. At least he could face his enemy with some measure of dignity.

He didn't have long to wait.

The sounds of movement from the room beyond the open doorway grew more and more pronounced, coming closer. Feral turned towards it and squared his shoulders, steeling himself against the sight of the leonin coming towards him.

He knew what to expect, to an extent. He's gotten a solidly good look at the huge tawny furred, black maned male before getting pounded into the dirt, but Feral was wearing armor and armed then, it was utterly nerve wracking to think about facing the brute like this.

"Ever the proud warrior." A deep, rumbling storm of sound washed over the brown tom, sending a chill down his spine. He'd never heard the Leonin speak before. That he sounded amused was not a pleasant thing.

Feral did his best not to be intimidated, or at least not to let the feeling show. It wasn't easy. He was acutely aware of his nudity, and the 'decorations' which had no doubt been inflicted on him at this male's request.

He just managed to stop the reflexive growl when the Leonin walked in, dressed for the safety of his fortress in rich garments and a robe-like cape that only accentuated his captive's nudity. Almost unnoticed at the feline's side was a small Mouse bearing the now distinctive decorations of a harem member.

Feral didn't reply, deciding the safest course was to stay silent. His eyes flicked briefly over the short male accompanying the Lord of the fortress. It was probably just as well. Sated, BrightClaw might be in a better mood.

Not that the Leonin's smile was what you could call reassuring. "I see you clean up nicely." He rumbled in approval and walked forward, the little mouse waiting by the curtained doorway as his Master took in ever detail of the prisoner from ever angle.

"Not bad for a dead kat," Feral replied, dropping the tone of the last word to give a rumble of his own.

"Now, just who told you you're dead?" Lord BrightClaw licked his whiskers and caught the fine chain between Feral's niples in one hand.

Feral made himself meet the larger male's eyes and hold them, despite the fierce intensity that burned out of them into him flesh. "The blood fountaining out of my mouth was a clue."

"Oh, but that was done on the battle field." The Lord chuckled. "I don't abuse by pets that way."

"I am not your pet," Feral snarled, but he had to look away from the larger male. The look in his eyes as he'd said those words was unbearable.

"You are dressed as one," BrightClaw observed dryly, his hand moving steadily down Feral's bare chest. "You sleep with them." He continued, his hunger rousing in him at this powerful feline that so badly needed to be taught now to kneel. "And you are mine."

"I'm not dressed at all," Feral snarled angrily. He took a step back, putting some space between his fur and the fingers which touched him with a familiarity that they hadn't earned. "And I will never be yours."

"We shall see," The tawny feline rumbled and caught Feral by the neck in a gesture that was as intimate as it was controlling, his thumb caressing short brown fur.

Feral snarled softly and his hands curled into fists, but he managed to keep himself from lashing out at the immense male. Alone and naked he could only suffer if he made the confrontation physical, and opposing him twice might be enough of a transgression that he'd be left to die this time.

"I do like fighters," he rumbled hotly as his free hand closed on Feral's balls and sheath with a disturbingly gentle touch for all the strength it contained. "You will do very well when you are trained."

"Get off me," Feral snarled, grabbing the leonin's wrist and pitting his strength against BrightClaw's massive musculature. He felt claws unsheathe against the sensitive skin and the powerful hand begin to close.

"Sure you want to do that?" BrightClaw rumbled with a bit of a smirk.

The brown kat stopped struggling, although he didn't let go of the larger feline's arm. His back arched and stretched upwards, trying to ease his maleness away from the sharp points that prodded him although Brightclaw's grip on his neck kept his from moving far. His breath began to race as he realized just how helpless he was against the pure physical might of his enemy.

"Now you begin to understand." The Leonin rumbled, nearly a purr, and pulled Feral forward, into the adjacent room. A sadists' bedroom. The bed had bindings on it. Not just at the four corners, but a dozen different places. The walls and side table held an assortment of devices; whips, clips, dildos, sharp pointy things and potions he did not want to even think about.

"I see our first few times will require some force."

"Fuck you!" Feral shouted, wrenching himself against the leonin's grip with all the force he could muster. He was not taking one more step towards that bed. He would not be a part of whatever sick game BrightClaw had planned.

"Other way around." He growled sharply and used his greater mass and strength to propel Feral face down on the bed.

Whatever Feral had to say in response was muffled by the bedclothes as he was pushed down beneath the hard weight of BrightClaw's body, no amount of twisting or writhing finding him any purchase. He felt his wrists chained, then his feet, then the heavy weight was off of him, and a much smaller one sank onto the bed.

Once again Feral found himself straining and pulling against bonds that, designed for leonin prisoners, simply refused to budge. He aimed a vicious kick in the direction of the weight he could feel on the bed with him, but was brought up so violently short that it forced a frustrated growl out of this throat.

Then a small hand caught the middle of his tail and secured it out of the way. Delicate but strong fingers gently touched his exposed ass, spreading some cool, slick substance on it.

Feral roared his frustration, twisting and bending his body to get it as far away from the probing fingers as he could. With the bonds holding him that was very little. Nowhere near enough.

"I'm perfectly willing to take you without his preparations," BrightClaw's deep voice warned.

"Get bent!" Feral snarled back, with all the fierceness he could muster in the face of what was sure to come next.

BrightClaw didn't answer, instead he knelt on the bed and closed his jaws around Feral's neck, the mattress sagging with both large felines in on it. When he rubbed his hard shaft against Feral's ass it was almost playful.

Feral whimpered softly as he felt the weight of leonin maleness rubbing against the curve of his ass. His breath came quick and shallow, the sharp points of BrightClaw's teeth and the weight of the other male on top of him making it race.

Against all expectations, the penetration was slow, smooth and nearly painless, something that Feral realized shouldn't have been possible given the size he could feel violating his body.

That didn't stop the long, low, raw moan that rose up from his chest as he felt the intrusion forcing it's way deeper and deeper into his body. "No," he gasped, his body clamping hard around the intrusion, trying in vain to force it out of him.

It merely encouraged the predator on top of him as Feral felt fur press against his ass, then the length began to pull out with the same deliberate slowness.

Relief washed over the kat in a palpable wave, a soft, almost soundless breath wafted out through his lips as he felt his insides slowly closing back to their normal dimensions as the leonin cock receded.

It was only a temporary reprieve, though. When the thick head reached his entrance, BrightClaw pressed forward again, this time with a bit more speed and rumbled his pleasure. Feral arched his back as his body tightened again, but the thick slab of leonin muscle atop him was impossible to escape. So was the thrusting length inside him, violating and defiling his body.

"No," the whimpering moan was forced out through clenched teeth as BrightClaw's cock worked back and side inside him. The leonin was merciless, forcing Feral's body to accommodate him as he plunged deeper and deeper into the unwilling flesh.

It was a pattern that never seemed to end. Not only was the Leonin huge and powerful, he had the endurance to go all night.

"Stop. Stop. Gods, please stop," Feral hated the pleading tone in his panting cries, but the slick, thick pumping inside him was worse. Having a leonin on top of him, inside him, using him like a simpering whore was worse.

Having him finish inside of him would be unbearable.

But he would have to bear it. Somehow.

BrightClaw was not listening to him. Or not caring.

Feral could feel the shift in energy. The quickening of the strokes, the increased power, the breaking of the rythem that had held for so long was signaling the end of the big male's climb to pleasure.

Feral's eyes screwed shut, his body clamping down tightly around the length inside him in instinctive rejection even though the rapist riding him probably only took more pleasure from it.

The roar from above was defining. It shook everything as Feral felt the sick, goody wetness explode into his body with each powerful thrust. Feral roared as well, but his was a scream of shame, frustration and humiliation as he felt himself claimed by a male who'd almost killed him. Thick, warm seed flooded his insides and still the vile thrusting went on.

============

Feral reluctantly accepted the return to consciousness, his battered body complaining more loudly than it had in days. He could smell Fox nearby, probably the warmth against his side, and the lack of Leonin in the room and soft bed.

He tried to stretch but quickly decided that was a bad idea, a throbbing, abused soreness suddenly flaring to life. He was suddenly assaulted by a tactile memory of that hard, wet length inside him that made his hands curl to fists and his breath race.

"You are safe here," Fox murmured and nuzzled him gentle. "It is over for now."

"For now," Feral repeated, the implication obvious.

Fox nodded. "It is unusual for him to only claim you once in a lifetime."

"You're just full of good news today," Feral grunted, forcing himself to sit up despite the throbbing soreness that seemed to run right into the core of his body.

"It won't be as bad next time." Fox assured him quietly. "The first is always the hardest. Your body gets used to it after a while, then it'll start to feel good."

"Somehow I don't see myself becoming accustomed to rape," Feral retorted. Even as he said it Feral was confronted with the fact that it had been a much ore gentle experience than he'd expected. No less loathsome for it, but the fact remained that he hadn't been invaded with the cruel violence he'd come to expect of the leonin.

The little male looked up at him, concidering. "It does not have to be that way." He said softly. "Not with everyone at least."

"There will be more?" Feral asked, anger not quite winning over fear.

"Oh, Feral." Fox murmured gently and brushed spread fingers threw thick brown fur. "It can feel very good to have a male inside you. As good as it is to be the one on top."

"So I should just lie back and enjoy the rape?" Feral asked, knocking the smaller male's hands away. "Is that what you're telling me? Become a leonin whore?"

Fox sighed and shook his head, accepting the distance between them. "You really can't see it any other way, can you?" He looked up with a puzzled expression. "Do you think that little of your bedmates?"

"When I have no choice in the matter? When they beat me to death and then tie me down and force me? Yes. You're damn right I do."

"No, the ones you've taken." He shook his head. "You act like you've slept with males before."

"I didn't 'take' any of them," Feral snorted. "I have no need to resort to force to warm my bed."

Fox rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You've never been inside another male?"

"Of course I have."

"So why do you think they accepted that, if you didn't force them?"

"You're going to tell me you don't see any difference between consensual sex and rape, is that it?"

"Actually, I'm trying to figure out why you've been with guys you say you didn't force, but don't think it's possible to feel good to be on the bottom."

"I don't," Feral said simply. "But that's not to say I should just let these rapists do whatever they want with me."

"It's unlikely you will have a choice in it." Fox reminded him quietly. "It doesn't mean that all your encounters will be that way. Or with them, unless you choose it."

"If the only advice you have is to start enjoying rape then perhaps you'd better keeping it to yourself in future," Feral said coldly.

"If you can't learn to listen, maybe I will." The little Fox snapped back, his ears flattening in frustration. "Are you really so dence that you think the Leonin are the only ones who have sex around here? We choose our lovers too, you know, from the harem."

"Well forgive me if I'm not ruled by my gonads," Feral snarled, pushing the fox away and getting up off the bed. "I've had other things on my mind."

"Like your officer," he half guessed. "And escaping."

"Like assault and bodily violation," Feral replied.

Defeating Yourself

NC-17 for M/M Rape
Het Level is None
Slash Level is Slash Smut Level is Low
Femslash Level is None
Herm Level is None

53 KB, Story is Closed-Unfinished, Series is Closed-Unfinished
Written January 22, 2004 by Rauhnee Ranshanka and Vorex

Setting: SWAT Kats

Primary Races: Fox, Kat, Xanith

Contents: Furry. Slash (M/M). Alternate Universe, DarkFic, Rape (M on M), Slavery (Legal), Violence

Pairings: Ulysses Feral/male

Blurb: In a world where wars of conquest are still the norm, Ulysses Feral leads a rebellion he expected would cost him his life. It ended up costing him very much more.

Disclaimer: All things taken directly from the sources listed under 'Fandoms' belong to the owners of those shows. No harm is intended and we're definitely not making any money. Now, the things we created are ours, and if you see 'Non-FanFic' up there, it's probably all ours.

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