Dire struggled for breath, trying to stay afloat in a sea of red-hot arousal, clutching his rifle with shaky hands as another spurt of pre-ejaculate joined the growing stain decorating the front of his ripped jean shorts. He pulled the trigger and fired a burst of shots, which all missed the target. The tall, black werewolf crouched beneath the window sill, narrowly avoiding the hail of bullets that whistled through the air above him.
He was pinned down inside a room in the upper floor of a house, besieged on all sides by enemies looking to keep his squad’s losing streak going on for as long as they could. His two companions didn’t fare much better than him. Fennix watched the window opposite of him while down to ten percent health and fresh out of healing items. Wendell’s ammo was also running dangerously low. Both fought through the same all-consuming arousal as Dire did.
He ground his teeth in the face of his squad’s imminent defeat. The tenth in a string of humiliating losses.
“Damn it!” he snapped. “This is all your fault, Fennix!”
“Dude, shut up! I already said I was sorry!” The fox looked down at the outline of his own erection, painfully visible through the elastic material of his pants. “Besides, we would’ve won the last match if you didn’t miss that sniper shot.”
“Well, excuse me if I can’t aim right when I’m hornier than a bitch in heat! Wendell’s not hitting shit either and I don’t see you giving him crap.” He looked at the timber wolf, who whined apologetically while humping the bullet-ridden armrest of an old armchair.
“S—Sorry guys but I just can’t stand being so horned up all the time. I really gotta cum!!”
“Well, you can’t,” said Fennix as he pulled the pin of a grenade and flung it out the window. “Not until we win a match. That’s what the hacker said.”
Wendell kept humping the couch. Logic had all but been evicted from his brain which was now fully occupied by an unrelenting need to release all the pent up arousal that had built up over the past ten agonizing matches. He threw his shotgun on the floor, pulled down his shorts and gripped his raging erection. Almost immediately, the cramped room was filled with the overwhelming scent of his denied erection. On the pulsating meat of his dick, etched just above its swollen knot, was the image of a pink heart-shaped padlock. The image pulsed and vibrated rapidly, in tandem with the horny wolf’s accelerated heartbeat.
“Damn it, Wendell. Focus!” Dire shouted, fighting the urge to give in and start touching himself like his squad mate. He peeked out of the window and scanned the area to find no sign of his enemies. There had been two of them over on his side. Fennix downed one with a grenade and saw no one else over on his side.
Footsteps. The enemies were inside.
“Fennix!”
“I know.”
They set their sights on the door and waited, not bothering to give Wendell any orders. He wouldn’t be able to carry them out in his state anyway.
The footsteps stopped just outside the door. Dire and Fennix held their breaths. For a moment, the only audible sounds were those of Wendell’s huffing and fapping. The door was kicked open and two men burst inside the room, freezing upon seeing Wendell on the floor madly tugging at his dog bone.
“What the f-?”
Two shots, two kills. Enemy squad cleared.
They were safe… for now.
Dire blew his revolver’s smoking barrel and looked through the enemies’ loot, chock full of ammo and consumables.
“There’s enough here to keep us going for a while. What ammo type you need, Fennix?” There was no answer. “Fennix?” He turned back and saw the fox sitting on the floor with his hand firmly wrapped around his dick, pumping away. Dire sighed. “Ah, fuck it.” He dropped his pants.
The hub was like a small city of glass. Giant screens that played highlights from recent matches decorated the main streets and plazas where dozens of players congregated to share tips, strategies, and browse the different shops and services to prepare for the next game. It was at one of those plazas that Fennix first heard rumors of a hacker who could alegedly increase the post-match rewards of any given squad. Fennix was never one to turn from an easy path to victory so the rumors piqued his interest.
Knowing Dire and Wendell, they would never agree to it. His squad mates were too risk adverse to place their trust in a stranger. In particular, he could already imagine the werewolf berating him for even thinking about trusting a hacker to keep up his end of the bargain. No. If he was going to make contact with this hacker, he had to do it covertly and on his own.
Once he started asking around, it didn’t take too long for the hacker to find him before he found the hacker. One thing led to another and he was making his way towards an agreed upon meeting point, one of the least frequented (and least reputable) alleyways of the hub at a time when most people in his region had logged off.
Upon arriving at the empty alley, he saw the hacker – or rather a hologram in the shape of him – already waiting. Not much could be made out of the hacker’s appearance other than an unremarkable build clad in dark clothes and a yellow snout poking from a hoodie. The natural distortion of the hologram made it impossible to discern the finer details.
“Hello, Fennix.” The voice was distorted, much like the image. “I have a deal for you.”
“Can you really increase my squad’s rewards?”
“I already have. Check your HUD.”
The fox couldn’t suppress a gasp when he pulled up his Heads-Up-Display and saw a tenfold modifier next to his experience and currency counters. There was no doubt about it, this guy was the real deal.
“What’s the catch?”
“Drop your pants.”
“Fuck off.”
The hacker chuckled. “No, seriously. You should really check in on your little friend.”
Fennix cocked an eyebrow and pulled the waist band of his pants just enough to take a peek at his genitals and see the image of a pink heart-shaped padlock imprinted on his flaccid sheath.
“What the hell is this?!”
“That, my friend, is our deal. Starting with your next match, you’re going to feel some… changes. Think about the best sex you’ve ever had and multiply that by a hundred. That’s what every second of every match from now on will feel like.”
“Geez, I can only cum so many times in a match.”
The hacker laughed again. “You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you? Take a look at that symbol again.”
“It’s… a padlock?” It finally made sense. “Oh. Oh no, no, no. Fuck this. Deal’s off.”
“Check your HUD again.”
He did. The modifier had gone up to fifteen. Fennix hesitated for a moment, pondering before speaking.
“When does it end?” he asked.
“When your squad wins a match.”
“And I really can’t cum?”
“Nope. And neither can your teammates”
Being permanently aroused while unable to orgasm. It sounded unbearable. Getting first place was no easy feat to begin with, but doing so under intense sexual frustration would only be harder. Still, each match under these circumstances would net fifteen times the normal amount of rewards. A significant amount of time would be saved every time.
What would his squad mates think? Wendell would understand, but Dire wouldn’t like it, at least not at first. He could only hope the werewolf came around once the rewards start rolling in. Besides, he had tried edging and denial before, he could deal with it.
He nodded at the hologram.
“Deal!”
Fennix couldn’t take it. The moment the two enemies dropped dead and despawned, he threw his rifle on the floor and began tugging at his denied erection. Dire said something about restocking ammo, but he didn’t hear him. After a moment, even the werewolf started masturbating along with the fox and the wolf.
The lust was unlike anything they ever felt before. It was like they were not allowed to think about anything that wasn’t arousing. Their minds unwillingly sifted through the entire history of their sex lives, revisiting and reliving every intense experience all at once. They were able to cope with it during the first three or so matches, from then onward it only became harder to think of anything else besides getting off. On one occasion, they were tracked to their hiding spot through a trail of precum they left on the ground. They made a point of always wiping their pre after that match.
They laid on the floor, helplessly pawing for an impossible orgasm when something materialized in the middle of the room. A Boogie Bomb. It spun, projecting beams of light on the walls of the room as a groovy tune started playing. It was as if the room turned into a nightclub straight from the seventies.
“No! N-Not now, please!” Fennix’s body stood up against his will.
“God-fucking-damn it! Who threw that!?” Dire stood up as well, bobbing his head in rythmn with the groove.
“No! Please! I-I need to touch it!! I need to jerk off!” Try as he might, Wendell couldn’t stop his hands from leaving his needy cock.
Like puppets on a string, the three canines stood up and broke into a reluctant dance to the song that played from the floating disco ball. Their bodies weren’t theirs anymore. They moved in increments of mechanical spasms, like machines who’d gone too long without having their joints oiled. Their denied erections – adorned with the hacker’s symbolic pink padlocks in their mocking heart shapes – wagged around in their robotic dance, further infusing the air of the room with their musky scent. They looked ridiculous and they knew it.
“Was this part of the deal, too?” Dire asked, swirling in a wobbly pirouette that flung a sizable rope of pre in an arch across the room.
“If it was, he didn’t mention it,” Fennix replied as he tried (and failed) to prevent his hips from swinging side to side. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. The perpetual arousal was bad enough, but now this?! He bit his lip and hung his head in shame as the tune hijacked his body and made it dance. He really shouldn’t have made that deal.
Dire swore to himself that he would keep a closer eye on his squad mate in the future – that was if he decided to keep running with him after they sorted out this whole mess. He looked down at his impressively sized boner with that pink padlock on it, pulsating ever faster. A visual reminder of his part of a deal he had no say in.
It teased him. Frustrated him.
The searing need to cum burned in his mind. He wanted to grab Fennix, throw him on his knees, grab his tail, and relieve himself right inside that tail hole. The fox owed him that much after putting him through so much humiliating frustration. But he couldn’t. Not while the hacker claimed full control over his body.
Such a strong wolf, made into a horny little dancer by a harmless disco ball. Dire’s arousal was second only to his desire to pulverize the hacker’s jaw with his fist.
Wendell was a mess. A horny, barking, prancing, leaky mess.
“Please! Please, please I need to cum! I-I’ll do anything! Let me cum, let me cum, let me cum…” he kept desperately begging. It was hopeless but there was nothing else he could do while prancing around like an idiot. The rational part of his mind has been thoroughly beaten into nothingness by burning lust.
The poor timber wolf couldn’t find a way to cope with the situation. He lacked Dire’s aggressiveness and Fennix’s resilience. The pink heart-shaped padlock on his boner pulsed and vibrated faster than those of his squad mates.
He would’ve sucked them both off then and there if it meant a chance to relieve himself, but alas, like them, he was trapped in a marionette-like dance to the tune of the disco ball.
The floor, walls and furniture of the room could’ve passed as exhibits in a splatter painting museum, only the paint was a copious amount of precum from three, perpetually horny men. With each dance move, more fluids were carelessly thrown around. The smell of that bedroom would’ve been unbearable to their keen canine sniffers if it wasn’t so arousing.
“You guys need a shower hehe… he…”
“Oh fuck off, Fennix. I’ll give you— Hnng!!”
A sudden wave of renewed arousal washed over the trio, marked by a collective spurt of pre from all of them.
“Y—You feel that?”
“Yeah! It just got a whole lot fucking worse.”
“Oh please, please, please let me cu-u-um…”
What was unbearable before was now downright cruel.
“I’m losing my mind here,” Fennix huffed.
“Just hang in there! It’s gotta end sometime soon,” Dire proclaimed. “We have to… fight it!”
Evidently they were both losing that fight, just as Wendell had lost it a long time ago.
While they focused on combating this hellish new wave of arousal, something about their dance was changing. They were getting closer to one another, slowly but surely. They stepped towards the center of the room in rhythm with the music and, all at once, they started stripping. First their tops: Fennix’s uniform, Dire’s jacket and Wendell’s vest. With their chests bare, they started removing their remaining clothes. Dire’s ripped jorts, Fennix’s fatigues, and Wendell’s shorts, followed by his shoes. They were well and truly vulnerable now.
“I don’t like where this is going,” Fennix said, as an unknown force moved his arms towards Dire’s nipples.
“Hey! Hey! What’re you do- Hngg! Aah!” Dire moaned as the fox squeezed his nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, sending a chill down his spine.
“S-Sorry! I can’t control it- O—Oooh!” Fennix tensed up as Wendell’s wet snout pressed up against his balls. Looking down, he saw the timber wolf kneeling so his face was at the same height as his crotch. He felt him take a deep whiff before rolling out his long tongue and dragging it along the underside of his ball sack. It tickled in the most wonderful way and made his fur stand on end. “Holy shit, Wendell. That feels amazing!”
Whatever relief Fennix got from being stimulated was soon crushed by the realization that the locks were still in place and no orgasms would be allowed. Still, this was better than the maniacal dancing from before. Their bodies were still not under their control, but at least know they were being pleasured instead of humiliated.
“Oh god, Fennix. I think he’s making me—” Dire’s foot lifted on its own and hovered near Wendell’s cock. “No! C’mon, that’s nasty. Don’t make me- Gaaah!” He pressed his foot against Wendell’s member and rubbed his paw pads against it, causing the timber wolf to let out a long, dragged out moan while he licked Fennix’s sac. “Goddamn it, Fennix! What the fuck did you get us into- GAH! What the fuck?!” A firm squeeze to his nipples cut his complaint short.
“S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!”
It was the strangest of sensations, fully losing control over one’s body in a situation like that, in the middle of a battlefield, fully naked and aroused like never before. Made into sex puppets for the pleasure of a shady hacker who was undoubtedly watching from afar and more than likely using the trio for his own pleasure.
They were made to maintain their current roles for a few minutes before their bodies started moving again. Fennix was made to stand still and raise his arms while both Wendell and Dire approached him from the sides. The intense smell that emanated from the pits of the horny fox assaulted their sensitive canine noses and made them wince.
“I really don’t like where this is going,” said Dire as his ears folded back in repulsion. “I’m gonna smell it, ain’t I?”
“I’m sorry, Dire. I’m trying to fight it but I can’t move my body!” Fennix apologized as he observed the two wolves’ snouts inching closer and closer to his pits.
“God, I’m going to break that hacker in ha- Mrff!”
The two wolves’ muzzles abruptly thrusted themselves into the fox’s musky pits and forced to take a deep whiff from them. Dire grunted and tried his hardest to break free from the hacker’s control and pull back while Wendell happily wagged his tail. Despite their opposite surface-level reactions, the act aroused both of them.
Fennix simply watched as he felt the sniffing of the wolves’ noses. Despite everything, seeing his squad mates forced to take in his scent did push some of his buttons. Not that they needed to know that. Not right now, at least.
He couldn’t help but to feel sorry for poor Wendell. He was completely zonked out. High on pleasure and held back by denial. Fennix didn’t really mind knocking Dire down a peg or two – the werewolf was a bit of a prick on occasion – but Wendell didn’t deserve this. He’d even backed Fennix’s initial decision to take the hacker’s deal before the first match in their losing streak.
He made a mental note to see to it personally that Wendell got the relief he deserved after the ordeal. But, until then, he just had to bear with it.
After a lengthy session of pit-sniffing, the hacker finally allowed them some respite. Teary eyed, Dire took a deep breath of (relatively) fresh air to cleanse his lungs of Fennix’s intense odor.
“Sorry, man. I know I stink but—“
“Just shut up,” Dire looked down, equally ashamed of the nauseous act he’d been forced to perform and of how much it aroused him. The werewolf’s ego was taking a beating.
Wendell, for his part, didn’t seem to mind much. The horny wolf’s tail wagged as he dropped down on all fours and arched his back. A dejected smile creeped across his muzzle, already guessing his unseen master was about to grant him a nice cock up his ass. He wondered whose cock it would be.
“Oh shit, Wendell, I think I’m going to– I think he’s making me–“, Fennix stuttered as he shuffled towards the timber wolf’s upturned rear-end in rhythm with the music and aligned his shaft with his quivering hole.
“Fuck me! Fuck me hard!” Wendell begged, tail wagging a mile a minute. “Maybe that way he’ll let us cum!”
Fennix didn’t have the heart to tell the wolf that he doubted that.
With each bassy thump of the music, the gap between the fox’s leaky tip and the wolf’s hole closed a bit more until the mutual feeling of each other’s private parts sent chills up their spines in the best way possible. And then once more when that denied tip breached the wolf’s anus and lodged itself past its walls only to retract and return – in and out with every beat.
Thump, thump, thump. Thrust, thrust, thrust.
Pleasured moans and frustrated grunts filled the room as the two squad mates were forced to engage in a sadistic ritual of dance-sex against their will.
“M—More! Put it all in! I need it!”
“I can’t! My body is moving on it’s own!”
“More! More!”
It was no use. Wendell wasn’t there.
Two hands reached around Fennix and started to play with his nipples. Dire’s hands. The werewolf rubbed himself against the fox’s back sensually, like a stripper on a pole, while tweaking, flicking and tickling his nipples to the beat of the music.
Thump, thump, thump. Tweak, flick, tease.
“Aah! Dire!”
The werewolf gritted his teeth. “R—Resist! We gotta resist!” he valiantly proclaimed while offering no resistance whatsoever.
He felt many conflicting things. The whole ordeal was simultaneously the most degrading thing he and his squad mates had been put through while also being the most arousing experience of his life. Wether those were his true feelings or a distorted version of them brought about by many long hours of artificially induced orgasm denial, he couldn’t quite tell. His body moved on its own once more to deliver a lovingly erotic lick from Fennix’s neck up to the base of his ear, an act he would not have performed under any other circumstances.
How humiliating it was for the once proud werewolf – and how incredibly fucking hot as well.
Wendell – or what remained of him – still clung to a vain hope of finding release. If he couldn’t bring himself to cum by masturbating, perhaps taking the fox’s cock up his ass would do it. Perhaps the hacker that hijacked his body was giving him what he wanted.
But all he got was Fennix’s tip. The very tippy tip of that juicy cock he wanted to feel between his ass cheeks. Never in his life did that need to be filled from behind burn as hot as in that moment. Just a few firm thrusts right against his prostate. That was sure to finally bring him to a mind crushing orgasm. He was sure of it! He just needed to take Fennix’s length. All of it.
He tried to arch his back just a bit more, to do whatever he could in order to take more of that shaft up his ass. But his body remained still. Wendell’s muscles obeyed the will of another, he was just along for the ride.
Fennix gritted his teeth. His well of resistance had completely dried up, and now he simply allowed the demented game to take its course knowing that he was powerless to stop it. A part of him didn’t want to. It felt incredible. Dire gently teased him from behind while Wendell provided a warm and tight sheath for his sword. He loved it. If only the circumstances were different…
The music transitioned to a different section wit ha faster tempo, and the movements of the three men changed with it.
Wendell’s wish was partly granted as he felt more of that length go inside of him. With each thrust, Fennix was now inserting about half of his meat inside the wolf’s ass. This, of course, wasn’t enough for Wendell but he was grateful nonetheless.
His eyes were fixed on the floor, on a puddle of sweat, tears and other fluids that stained its carpeted surface.
“Hey.”
He looked up and nearly bumped his nose on Dire’s swinging meat. The werewolf was no longer fondling Fennix and had instead been commanded by their master to stand right in front of the wolf and shake his hips the tune of the disco ball. Both of them knew why.
“I think I know what’s coming next,” Dire said, flustered.
“I’ll suck it!”, Wendell’s eyes followed that swinging piece of (to him) delicious-looking meat, transfixed by it’s girth and near-permanent leakiness. “I’ll do anything I can to make you cum. M—Maybe then I’ll get to cum too!”
Dire’s hands moved on their own to gently pry Wendell’s maw open by wedging both thumbs between his molars. The werewolf’s tough exterior was all but shattered and seeing his squad mate in such a lust-addled state that he couldn’t perform basic reasoning only pushed him deeper into the depths of despair.
“Wendell… I don’t think we get to cum before winning a match. Like… at all,” he said, feeling a sharp pang of pain and compassion when the timber wolf let out a long and pathetic whimper.
His tail had stopped wagging.
Dire moaned when he felt the inside of Wendell’s maw envelop his oversensitive shaft. He would’ve busted right then and there if it wasn’t for that evil pink heart-shaped padlock. Unlike Fennix, Dire was going all out from the start, ramming his whole bone inside the sloppy wet comfort of the wolf’s mouth from tip to knot in rhythm with the music and, by extension, with Fennix’s movements.
Words could not describe how good it felt to finally have a hole for his dick after ten excruciating matches of pure denial. It surprised no one that the muscular, aggressive, testosterone-filled werewolf’s libido was off the charts. That is to say that he may have been the most affected out of all of them by the denial, even if he managed to cope with it better than his squad mates by sheer force of will.
But that mask had slipped. Dire was reduced to as much of a horny slut as the rest of them. He grunted, huffed, whimpered and damn-near howled while filling up the timber wolf’s maw with his bone. Worst of all, he had to do it while staring right at Fennix who had been the cause of all that in the first place.
“So. You happy with what your little bet got us?” he growled.
“How many times do I have to say that I’m sorry?”
“I don’t– mrrf care if you’re sorry! I wanna cum and then rip that fucking hacker to shreds! Aah!!” He half-screamed, half-moaned when a he particularly sensitive part of his knot scraped against one of Wendell’s sharp canines and sent an unexpected shiver up his spine.
“Look,” Fennix began. “When we get out of this I’ll suck your dick, alright? I’ll even let you fuck me or ride me or whatever gets you off. Just… hold on, okay?”
The nerve on this fucking guy, Dire thought while balls deep inside Wendell’s maw. That’s the least you owe me after this whole mess.
The timber wolf winced as he finally got what he’d been wishing for. Fennix plunged his whole length inside of him – knot and all. Both his jaw and his anus were starting to hurt from the constant attention but he didn’t mind. As long as he got to continue feeling the throbbing shafts of the fox and the werewolf inside of him. Was this also an effect of the hacker’s tampering? Of the edging, maybe? Or maybe Wendell had always been like this. A horny little cock slut shut inside the persona of a fun-loving party animal. Or maybe the cock slut was simply an extension of the fun-loving party animal. After all, what could be more fun that this? At least that’s what he thought in his current state.
The music changed again. Its tempo got faster and a gnarly guitar riff was broke through the mix, elevated by a heavier rhythm section and reflected in the changing of the disco ball’s colors from a rainbow of beams to one mostly consisting of warm reds and oranges.
They all felt it. The urge became even stronger. White hot. All-encompassing. Utterly unbearable.
“Oh shit!”
“GAH! FUCK!”
“Mrrrff!!”
They sped up, and sped up, and sped up. Fennix’s and Dire’s hips moved at unnatural speeds to bury their respective shafts into both ends of their whimpering squad mate whose senses were being assaulted like never before. The hot, pungent smell of the sweaty males ramming him. The delicious jolts he felt as the fox’s dick rammed against his prostate. The brain-melting taste and texture of the werewolf’s mast.
It was too much.
Tears rolled along his cheeks to join the growing stain of bodily fluids on the carpet as the last rational thought left his head.
Fennix wasn’t doing much better. He was hunched over his squad mate while plowing him hard and fast and his legs hurt all the way up to his hips from the repeated motions, but he couldn’t stop. Truth be told, he didn’t want to stop. While he had felt sorry for Wendell before, he was now incapable of seeing him as anything more than a toy for him to fuck and fuck and fuck with zero consideration for the wolf’s own pleasure.
The insane amount of lust being injected directly into his code had rendered him incapable of compassion. His very being existed to fuck. To feel pleasure. To cum.
He was his dick. The rest was just there to find him a hole to fuck.
Dire howled. A beastly howl unfitting of a bipedal, intelligent creature. He was a beast. A force of nature. Each thrust of his hips sent a shockwave through Wendell from his muzzle to the tip of his drooping tail. Fennix could feel it too, but it was the last thing on his mind.
All the edging, all the denial and humiliation. It broke him. Reverted his thought processes to their most primal form. He didn’t know – or care – that he was in the middle of a match. He was going to fuck each and every hole in sight.
With the last change in the music, they noticed an increased pressure in their gonads. A certain swelling feeling that pushed past the plateau they’d been forced to tip-toe on for the last ten matches.
The tell-tale signs of an imminent orgasm.
Was this it? Did the hacker finally decide to show mercy and undo the denial effect? The padlocks were still there, but their pink color was growing paler and weaker, almost as if it was fading to nothingness. This they felt too.
They’d done it! They beat the hacker’s game and were finally able to spill their pent up load! It was surreal. Almost too good to be true but they didn’t care. The pleasure kept rising and rising. The invisible cage that contained their imminent orgasms was but a distant memory.
Thrust, thrust, thrust. Dire’s tongue lolled out from the side of his drooling maw. Pound, pound, pound. Fennix legs felt like they were about to give. Suck, suck, suck. Wendell shut his eyes and curled his toes.
They finally came.
“Ah! I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!!” shouted Dire.
“Shit! Motherfucking, goddamned shit!” yelled Fennix.
Wendell could only sob.
Rage, desperation, helplessness. These were the feelings that washed over the trio once they realized their prized orgasm – the conclusion of the interminable torture they’d just endured – had been a lie. The thrusting stopped. Fennix and Dire were frozen in place with their dicks still buried inside Wendell’s ass and maw respectively as a long, sustained guitar note emanated from the disco ball.
Against their shattered wills, they pulled out. Thick, gooey strings of pre-cum bridged the gap between the retracting dicks and Wendell’s ass and maw before breaking and falling down on the floor – which, by that point, had as many bodily fluids on it as it had carpeting.
They stood there motionless. Silently cursing the hacker as their respective orgasms died down, like Sisyphus’ boulder rolling down the hill after being oh so close to reaching the top.
Soon the music started again and so did the demented dance-sex. A plucky, happy-go-lucky tune that contrasted insultingly well with the general mood of the three denied men. This time they danced around in a circle while jerking themselves off.
None of them bothered to talk, not even to curse at the hacker. They knew it was pointless and could only bring about further punishment. After the last near-orgasm there was no more fight left in any of them. Denied and at the mercy of the hacker’s musical whims, they handed themselves over to him, hoping for the end of the match sooner rather than later.
Unfortunately for them, there was still a lot the hacker wanted to subject his living toys to before he allowed the match to end.
After all, he wasn’t even halfway through his playlist.
The music changed to a slow reggae and the beams of light turned various hues of green and orange as the three men took turns at sampling generous amounts of each other’s bodily fragrances. From sweaty armpits and ball sacks to discarded underwear and other articles of clothing all carrying ten full matches’ worth of musk. Everyone became intimately familiar with each other’s natural smells, a lot more than they’d like.
Bright gold and vivd yellow rays colored the thick air of the room as a suave electro-swing beat played. They danced in circles while endlessly pinching and teasing one another’s nipples, eliciting pained yelps and pleasured moans. At times, two of them would pair-up and concede all of their attention to whoever was left out. For some unknown reason, more often than not, it was Dire who ended in that position. His swollen nipples were starting to hurt from the unending pinching, biting, leaking and tweaking. He had to wonder if this was some form of punishment for repeatedly threatening the hacker.
More such acts were performed under deceptively festive lights and sounds and, eventually, they got used to having their bodies controlled and played with as marionettes. They got accustomed to the obscene acts, the smells, the touches, the sensations… In particular, they became intimately familiar with each other’s private parts. It wasn’t entirely wrong to say that they were starting to enjoy it, even if only a bit – as an involuntary coping mechanism in the face of an inescapable situation.
The one aspect of the whole thing they could never get used to was the denial. Time and time again, when the seething pleasure rose and threatened to cross the threshold of release, they’d it just out of reach. Countless grueling forays into the battlefield hadn’t been enough to prepare them for the astronomical mental toll that such teasing and denial was wrecking upon their broken minds.
They danced. They begged. They cried, barked and whimpered.
But they didn’t cum.
When the last squad alive found them, Dire and Wendell were spit-roasting Fennix to the sound of an ear-grating trap beat. They all taken out at the same time by a grenade.
They opened their eyes and recognized the stainless steel walls of the hub respawning area. The match was over and they’d lost. They were alone in the spacious room, fully clothed, and shamefully avoiding each other’s gazes after the obscenities they’d been performing for who knows how long before finally being found and eliminated. The overwhelming arousal was gone, though only until the next match began.
Fennix was the first to work up the courage to speak.
“Guys, I’m–“
“Don’t,” Dire interrupted. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry! I’d make you suck me off right now if it wasn’t for this stupid lock thing.” He pulled out his flaccid dick and pointed to the image of the heart-shaped padlock – evidently he was completely desensitized to any form of modesty. The padlock’s pulsating was now barely noticeable as opposed to the frantic way it grew and shrank during the match.
“I still need to cum too…” Wendell whined with ears folded back and his tail between his legs. “Fennix, why did you agree to the hacker’s deal?”
“Look, I—I don’t know, I just thought we could rake in some easy rewards and get a nice XP boost while we’re at it!”
“No amount of XP is worth this.”
“How was I supposed to know it’d be this bad?! I thought we’d get blue balled for a match or two before we win! We’re usually good at this, right?”
“Usually we’re not so fucking horny all the time!”
“We would’ve won already if you landed that shot before the Boogey Bomb went off!”
“Oh, so now you’re pinning this on me?”
Wendell put himself between his two shouting squad mates. “Guys, chill! Fighting will get us nowhere. We gotta win the next match or else we’re gonna go crazy.”
Fennix and Dire exchanged a surprised look. If Wendell was starting to sound like the voice of reason then maybe they really were starting to go crazy.
“You’re right. We need to focus,” Fennix declared. “We can sort out who’s fault it is after we win a match.”
“That’d be you,” said Dire.
“Yeah… Sorry, Fennix but it’s totally your fault,” Wendell added sheepishly.
Fennix sighed.
They left the respawn area and made their way to the shop to stock up on items. Along the path, they crossed the main plaza were a large crowd seemed to gather to stare at the giant displays that circled the plaza. As they approached the group of people, it became obvious why they were so focused on the screens.
“No… It can’t be.”
A highlight reel of their forced dance-sex session played on every oversized screen. Every lewd act they’d been forced to perform was shown to all in the plaza with excruciating detail, down to the very smallest bead of pre cum. To add insult to injury, the very same songs that played from the disco ball during the ordeal were being broadcast over the hub’s PA system. The crowd cheered and hollered at the gratuitous display of depravity, some of them were trying (and failing) to stealthily touch themselves through their pants.
All three were redder than tomatoes, overcome with a paralyzing wave of shame. When someone in the crowd pointed out the stars of the show were there in the flesh, and thus diverted the attention of the whole group towards the flustered squad, they did the only sensible thing they could: running away with their tails tucked between their legs.
They hid in a deserted alley away from the jeering and mocking of the crowd.
“Hey, Wendell,” said Dire, clenching his fists. “What you just said about winning the next match?”
“Uh-uh?”
“Yeah, fuck that. I’m offing this fucker right now.”
“Wait! What if he–“
“Dire’s right. He just went too far.” Fennix pulled up a holographic map of the hub area. “The place we met isn’t far from here. I doubt he’s there now but it’s a good to start looking.” He spoke with courage and determination, a far-cry from the apologetic mess he’d been up until now. “Let’s go there now.”
Dire smirked at the fox. “Let’s get the bastard.”
And off they went to the gloomy alleyway where a hologram of the hacker had successfully tempted Fennix with promises of loot and XP exactly eleven matches ago.
As they turned the corner, they failed to notice the hooded yellow-muzzled figure giggling at their pointless but amusing display of determination.