Null Suit Adventures: Eternity
By Musuko

“Despite promising early trials, the CKC Null Suit never quite managed to cross over into the realm of successful marketability.”

This, of course, was a polite way of saying that it was a failure. It tested well. We all knew that. And within a closed environment such as that provided by CKC, the suit was astonishingly successful, as well as an awful lot of fun for all involved.
	But out in the real world? Not so much. There were only a few customers who would want to so fully enclose and isolate their playmates, and those rare few had already made their own arrangements via conventional methods; the classic constriction of leather and rubber and good old fashioned bondage, which had the benefit of being removable to suit the whim of the master and the pragmatic necessities of day to day life. Who, then, could we sell the Null Suit to?
	The answer, sadly, was nobody. It remained an expensive toy to use within the company, and nothing more.
	Until the day I opened my big stupid mouth…

Early December, 2016.

My name was Julian then. I was a grey-furred wolf. I was somewhere near my thirtieth birthday, but I can’t recall which side of that number I was. I would be able to work it out if I could remember my birth date, but the long years tend to blur away those fine details.
	I liked music in the casual way that everyone did. I enjoyed particular television shows more than others. I liked to dress casually when I could and made an effort to look decent when I couldn’t. I liked pizza but avoided it because it made me feel fat. I hated being called Julie, but I didn’t mind it when my friends did it because I would tease them right back and it was all good and fun. I miss those guys.
	All told, I was as average as average could be. Well, for someone who worked at CKC anyway. In particular, I was an ideas guy: I was one of the strange lunatics who inhabited the big, chaotic workshops where bizarre prototypes were born and, more often than not, died. In a way, I suppose I was strange, being so normal in a place like that. My colleagues were a mixed bunch of weirdness. But, for the life of me, I can barely remember them now.
	I do, however, remember that one fateful day quite clearly, the day that started it all. I distinctly remember picking at my sandwich and staring off into the distance. I didn’t feel very hungry, because my suitemate had pranked me again and dyed the bread bright blue. One of the other ideas guys, Daniel I think his name was, was showering off in the chemical booth after another failed attempt to bond something to something else...I’m not sure what, exactly. It was an ordinary afternoon, and there was no reason why this particular thought would enter my mind at that moment. But enter it did, like some stray cosmic ray screaming through the universe and happening to intersect my head.
	I slapped my paw down onto the sandwich and yelled “Aha!”
	The clock on the wall ticked quietly. There were three other people in the room, aside from Daniel, and none of them looked up from their computers and tinkering tools.
	“Is nobody going to ask me why I said aha?”
	I think her name was...Mary? May? Madeline? Something that began with M anyway. She mumbled at me, not looking away from the graphs on her screen. “Why did you say aha, Julian?”
	“Because,” I said, trying not to bristle. “I think I’ve fixed the Null Suit problem.”
	She flicked a glance at me from over the top of her monitor. “Oh?”
	“It’s a total enclosure suit, right? It covers the whole body. It erases all physical uniqueness and turns you into a clone of all the others right?”
	“Right,” she said. Even while she looked at me, her fingers still tapped at keys.
	“And customers don’t want that, do they? They chose their playmates based on their looks and personalities and they don’t want all that scrubbed away by the suit. They might as well buy a robot if they wanted something without any unique character.”
	“So?”
	“So,” I said, dragging out the syllable to give me time to line up my words. I spread my mouth wide into a big grin. “Isn’t the answer obvious?”
	“Not really.”
	“We just need to make a suit that doesn’t affect the wearer’s looks or personality. Or at least, not all the time. It’s that simple!”
	“Doesn’t that defeat the whole point of the suit?”
	“No, it doesn’t. I mean, the suit’s more than just that, right? It does the whole…” I waved my paw across my eyes. “The whole messing with your mind thing. We can keep that.”
	“Uhuh.”
	I could tell she wasn’t as enthusiastic as I was, but that was okay. She couldn’t see the picture forming in my head.
	“And it would need an AI.”
	Now I had her attention right back on me. And it came in the form of a hard stare. “That’s a really dumb idea.”
	“It’s a genius idea. You’ll see!”

CKC had experienced a lot of difficulties with AIs. They tended to go rogue and cause havok and embarrassment. And those few that didn’t were troublesome and unpredictable in their own right. It really wasn’t smart to mess with them. Not a pure AI at any rate.
	But what I was imagining wasn’t a pure AI. I wanted to take the learning and adaptation abilities of an AI, and perhaps a bit of the natural cheekiness that they all seemed to share, but strip away the self-determination and “self” that they had. In effect, I wanted a fragment, something that would act like an expansion module to the suit wearer’s mind.
	It was an idea that I struggled to describe, but it was so clear in my head. So, while it was still fresh, I raced to the programming suite and spoke to Hector (Harry? Harold?) and Carol (Carolyn?) and got them working.

A few months later, we had a prototype. But...one big problem.

Somewhere around about February, 2017.

For what felt like the twentieth time, I sighed and cried, “but why?”
	He stared at me from across his desk. The big cat himself, the Clever Kitty in Clever Kitty Creations. Look at him out on the street and you’d think little of him, just an ordinary tabby cat with nothing much to make him stand out from the crowd. Right now, though, he was naked, sprawled in his big leather chair, his feet propped up on the corner of the desk, his soles getting licked by an enthusiastic mouse slave (or pet? It was hard to tell exactly), and the vast, plush office around us made very clear that he commanded a huge and powerful organisation. He was definitely no ordinary tabby cat. And I was there because I had made too much of a fuss about the new Null Suit, and still was. I was up in front of the highest authority the company had, and it was hard not to feel a little nervous.
	“Because,” he said. “I won’t allow it.”
	“But-”
	“If you’re going to ask me why again, don’t.” He curled his toes and pushed the mouse away, but he came right back, lapping at his soles. He chuckled, then cast a paw across the paperwork on the desk. “Look, it’s just not a good idea, okay? There’s this new law, and we’re fighting hard against it. Until the lawyers tell me we’re safe, I can’t authorise any more test subjects for testing involving AIs.”
	“But it’s not a full AI, it’s just-”
	“I have read your report,” he said, cleanly dropping every word into place with a sharpness that silenced me. “I understand what your project involves. I still cannot allow it.”
	“What if someone volunteers to test it?”
	“All the test subjects are volunteers. It’s still a no.”
	“What if...I tested it on myself?”
	He paused for a moment. I expected him to frown. But a smile started to spread on his muzzle. “I would have to dock your pay for the duration of your test. But, if that’s what you choose to do, I don’t see why I should stop you. I admire your sense of adventure.”
	I was already regretting the suggestion. But it really did seem the only course of action. And I was sure of my creation, so why not?
	“Thank you,” I said, a little stunned.
	“Speak to legal and sort out the waivers. I want it absolutely clear that any mishaps are entirely your responsibility. Understood?”
	“Yes sir!”
	“Off you go then.” He yelped suddenly, and poked the mouse’s nose with his toe. “Hey, no nibbling!”
	I took my leave, hurrying from the room.

A little later in February, 2017.

The procedure was very simple. A tiny implant, barely larger than a grain of rice, went into the back of the neck. I barely felt the scratch of the surgery, and it was all over in minutes. Then I just needed to wait, while the microscopic filaments grew out from the implant, like sprouting roots from a seed, to integrate themselves into my nervous system. The first sign I had that it was working was the intense hunger that followed later that day; the suit needed fuel, and I had to eat to provide it. I feasted on a whole roast chicken, knowing that it was going to be the last real food I would have to eat for the duration of the test.
	When I became aware of the timer, I couldn’t say. It was nothing so overt as an actual ticking clock. It wasn’t a figure in my vision, like some kind of head up display. It was more instinctive than that, like an internal body clock, which in a way it was. I was aware of it as an abstract deadline in my mind; 48 hours, two days, in which the implant would be my ruling passenger. That told me that the suit was working. A success!
	I had a tray of breakfast brought to my suite, and I sat at my table and stared down at the bacon and eggs. I knew what would happen if the suit was fully working and I tried to eat it, and my stomach knotted in dread. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and sliced a small strip of bacon and placed it on my tongue. Instantly the taste hit me, like raw sewage and rotten eggs. I spat it out and gagged, wiping my paw at my tongue. That was a mistake! My own fur tasted just as foul, and I jumped away from the table, knocking my cutlery away with a noisy clatter. I rushed to the kitchen to get water, but stopped at the tap. Even water would taste horrible, I knew.
	“Well,” I gasped. “That works.”
	For the next two days, there would be only one thing I could eat, and only one thing that wouldn’t taste horrible. It would guide my desires and coax me towards certain actions. And if I resisted, which I could freely do so, I would suffer consequences. This was the essential purpose of the suit; not to control, but to manipulate. I thought about all those submissives out there who had masters who wished to shape them without wiping them clean entirely. This thing was going to make a fortune.
	But at that moment, it wasn’t really a suit. My appearance was unchanged, and for the moment my personality and mood were unaffected. I could step out into the real world and be entirely normal. Later, perhaps, things might be different. I lifted my paw and looked at it, imagining the flood of shiny latex that could, at any moment, sweep across my fur to transform my body, only to retreat again and leave me normal whenever necessary. It was a marvel of technology, and it would need thorough testing. But not just yet. For now, there were more tedious tests to run.
	I took myself down to the lab where a team waited for me. Together we ran all the necessary preliminary tests and checks. My body temperature was lower than normal, far lower than would normally be healthy, but this was correct and expected. My metabolism had been slowed drastically, dropping my energy needs to a fraction of normal. My fur glowed and sparkled under the pass of a UV light, confirming another advanced feature of the suit; to supplement the limited sustenance the suit would allow me to eat, my fur could now absorb energy from light, both artificial and natural. This alone would make for a good product. I chuckled as I imagined how I would look in the UV lights of a nightclub.
	“It all looks good to me,” said a nameless technician who remains only a blur in my memory. “Do you want to test the feeding process?”
	“Not at the moment,” I said.
	I should have sensed it then. He glanced at the other technician, and they exchanged a smile. Without a word, she left the room, and I was alone with this guy. He wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I think he was a skunk, perhaps? Maybe an otter? His lab coat neither flattered nor shamed his body, which I think was reasonably trim. There is a reason why none of these details stuck in my memory, because they all washed away to unimportance when he parted his coat and tugged down his crotch zipper.
	“Hey, stop that,” I said. “I’m not ready for…”
	I trailed away. I watched as he fished his cock free of his clothes. It too was nothing special; just an ordinary cock, half hard, pink and clean. But I felt an intense shiver ripple through me, as if I had just dunked myself into freezing water. My mouth started to fill with liquid, and I inhaled in sharp surprise as I realised it wasn’t saliva; it was lube. I hadn’t expected this part of the suit’s function to kick in so fast.
	“S-stop,” I breathed. It was a mistake. The lube trickled from my opened mouth and wet the fur of my chin. I caught the scent of his crotch fur, far stronger than even my canine nose would normally sense. I tried not to groan, but it was no use. I wanted it. I needed it. I wanted to yell at him, to chew him out for taking advantage. I wanted to complain that he was rushing the tests, that this wasn’t scientific! But the hunger tugged at me and scrambled my thoughts to mush. This was the whole point of the suit. It wasn’t going to make me kneel down and suck him off, but it was going to make me damn eager to do it.
	“C’mon puppy,” he said, and that burned: I was at least five years older than him, damn it! But the only protest I made was a small whine. I wanted to turn my eyes away, to force myself to leave the room. The suit couldn’t make me do it if I didn’t let it. I could still resist it. But…
	And that was the thing...the “but”.
	Every addict experiences it. They know they could and should quit. They know that they could if they tried. They know, deep down, that the addiction doesn’t control them, that they could fight off the urges and push through the cravings and withdrawal.
	But…
	The addiction would always prod at their thoughts and say, why? Why go through all that struggle? You know you can resist..so that means you don’t have resist. You’ve got nothing to prove. So just go along with the addiction, safe and proud of the knowledge that you’re in control, and you’re choosing to do it, and if you wanted to stop, you could choose that too.
	I lowered myself down onto my knees, bringing my nose close to the heady musk of his cock. He said nothing. His fingers cradled the underside of his cock, lifting it up and guiding the head towards my lips. And I forgot all about my pride and position in life. I didn’t think about the humiliation of being an accomplished and respected member of the company. I thought only of getting that cock into my mouth. I parted my lips, exhaling gently, feeling the lube trickle slick over my lips. My tongue met his flesh, and the taste blossomed. Oh god it was bliss like no other. This was ambrosia.
	I’d sucked a cock before. Of course I had. Hardly anyone worked at CKC without running wild through all kinds of sexual experimentation. It was almost a requirement of employment. But I’d never sucked a cock like this before. I filled my mouth with it, suckling the whole length to swell it to full hardness in my throat. I heard him moan above me, a soft, breathless noise. It was encouragement to me. I felt the sound tickle at my very soul and it drove my muzzle all the way down until my nose pressed into his fur. My throat squeezed around the head of his cock, milking with a level of skill that I didn’t know I possessed. My own cock fought against the confinement of my clothes, and I pawed at myself to try and release it, struggling to find the zipper, almost as if I had never used one before. Finally I got myself free, and I stroked at my cock with a frantic urgency unlike any I had felt since I was a teenager. I opened my eyes only once, looking up at him. His half-lidded eyes were already looking back down at me. He had been watching me the whole time. And with a sudden cry he came, pumping his sweet cum straight into my throat. And as if like a trigger, it set me off too, and I rode through his orgasm with my own blazing in me, hot jets of wolf cum splashing onto the carpet tiles, while his gushed from my throat to coat my tongue.
	He looked a lot less neat and tidy in his lab coat after that, even after stuffing his cock back into his trousers. It was subtle, but you could easily see it; the sweat-pricked, slightly dishevelled look of someone who had got their pulse racing. You might innocently suspect they had been for a run, but not here at CKC. He radiated the glow of a guy who had just recently got his cock sucked.
	And me? I got the job of trying to dab the cum out of the carpet, while trying to dress myself at the same time. I had a similar glow, but this one burned in my cheeks and ears. It was the blush of the cocksucker. But hell, I felt good. And I mumbled a quiet thank you to him. But he waved it away with a laugh.
	“Let’s finish these tests, puppy.”
	I didn’t even bother to protest.

A couple of days later, 2017.

The physical changes that came were subtle. It started with my fur: I noticed that it had become softer, silkier, and its shade had lightened slightly from its natural grey to almost white. My waist had slimmed fractionally. A result of the new diet of cum and light, perhaps? So too had my muzzle, becoming more slender. My nose was a slightly lighter shade of pink. Even my teeth were whiter, losing the yellowing that had come from years of coffee.
	But, as I stood in front of the mirror, I could reassure myself that it was still me who looked back. I was still recognisably myself. My appearance hadn’t changed drastically. It had just...refined a little. And I looked good. Was this how I looked in my own head? Was the suit taking my self-image and changing my body to match? This was exciting!
	Other changes were not quite so subtle. I had known that the suit would reduce my need for rest, but I could not have imagined it would produce quite such drastic results; I didn’t need to sleep, at all. Even as the long hours piled on, the lethargy and droop of sleepiness never came. This could make the suit a best seller even outside the kink market. Need to get a lot of work done? Simple: pop the suit on and work solid for 48 hours! Magic! Well, so long as you didn’t mind the way you had to fuel it.
	What did come, though, was the hunger. It bit and gnawed like nothing I had ever felt before. It was a craving so intense that I almost wanted to weep. For a while I resisted. I had reports to type up, tests to run. But soon my vision began to blur, and the words swam in front of me. The letters seemed to dance apart, and I realised with dumb shock that I could no-longer read.
	“Well,” I muttered. “That isn’t meant to happen. I thought I’d removed that progra...ungh.”
	I doubled up in my chair, clutching my stomach. The pangs were becoming unbearable. They weren’t exactly plain, but they weren’t pleasant either. I felt myself begin to salivate, and I clenched my mouth shut. I knew the drool would be lube. The memory of that technician’s cock invaded my head, bringing with it the sweet temptation of its taste. How I wanted to taste it again!
	I knew, though, that there was less than an hour left on my internal timer. After that had run down, the craving would end, my body would return the normal, and the implant would go dormant and slowly dissolve away into my bloodstream. The test would be over, and all this would stop. That was a good thing, right? I wouldn’t have to suffer the craving and the humiliation of having to satisfy it. I wouldn’t have to get up from my chair and walk over into the next room and kneel in front of the technician, or any other guy, and look up at him with need in my eyes and begging pleas on my lips. I wouldn’t have to see the cocky smirk in his face as he pushed his chair back from his desk and unzipped himself, fishing out his limp cock for me to lick and suckle and bring to full hardness in my throat…
	I bit my lip and stared at the jumble of shapes on the screen. No, I wouldn’t have to do all that. And I wouldn’t get to taste that sweetness of his release, nor smell the dizzying fragrance of his musk. I would just go back to normal, with all the normal food and normal smells, none of them coming close to the euphoria of what the suit could give me. I kneaded my claws at the edge of the desk, scratching through the veneer and down into the wood. Seconds were ticking away, and I felt the deadline rushing towards me. Minutes left. Not enough time.
	Rationalisation set in. I could extend the timer. The only option allowed to me was to double the time, but that only meant another 48 hours. Just two days. And I had already spent two days with the suit, and I hadn’t even begun to test all of its features. So...really, it made sense to extend the testing period. Right?
	I only had to think, and it was done. I felt the deadline rush away from me, as if disappearing down a corridor, becoming a glimmer in the distance. Another two days in the suit lay ahead, and a rush of relief hit me as if it were a reward for my action. My lips parted slightly, and a trickle of lube wetted my chin.
	I could stand the wait no longer. I pushed away from my desk, stood up, went next door, knelt in front of the technician...and begged.
	I didn’t have to beg for very long.

Still in February, I think, 2017.

The cat came to my suite a day later. He stood at the doorway and stared inside like he owned the place, which I suppose he did. He was dressed this time, which seemed a miracle to me; I think he had a bit of a nudity phase going on at that point. He shouldn’t really have bothered, though, as the suit he wore was cheap and in a shabby state, shirt unbuttoned, tie missing, jacket scrunched up. You’d never think that he was rich and powerful.
	He was also royally drunk. He leaned against the doorway for support. His head tilted lopsided, and I knew what his smile meant. Because, as it happened, I wasn’t alone.
	“Good afternoon, sir,” I said, getting up off of my knees, wiping at my lips with the back of my paw. The big lion stood up from my couch, not even bothering to tuck his wet cock back into his clothes. He was a member of the security team, and as such had some unspoken privileges, such as being able to grin lewdly at his boss and gently rake his fingers down the smaller cat’s back, whispering in his ear as he squeezed past. It was a strange sight, watching the boss shiver and then blush. I could guess as to the contents of the whisper. But I had no time to dwell on it. The door swished shut as the cat swayed into the room. He waved a paw at me, gesturing me back down, then dropped himself onto the couch where the lion had been.
	“So you extended the time, huh?” he said. And as he spoke, he sunk further down into the cushions, until he was sprawled like a deflated balloon. I half expected him to fall asleep.
	“Yes sir.”
	He chuckled, and lifted a paw, waving it airily towards the door. “You should be at the party. You’d be...uh...popular.”
	“I didn’t know there was one, sir.” I was lying. I didn’t think I should brave the temptation of all those people all together in one place. I’d probably end up overeating. Not good when there was only a day left on the timer. Might skew the testing results.
	“You tested all the features yet?”
	“Not yet.”
	“What about the skin?”
	I shook my head. His grin grew a little wider.
	“Show me,” he said.
	I hesitated. But already I could feel the prickling heat under my fur. I wasn’t entirely in control of this feature, and that was the point. It triggered from my subconscious desires, and right now those desires were matching the cat’s; I was curious, and I wanted to try it out more than I wanted to keep my dignity. At least, that’s what I told myself at the time. How was I to know that his request was interpreted as a command by the AI fragment?
	“How’s it feel?”
	I exhaled a small gasp. I couldn’t really manage words. The heat grew almost to a burn. I fell back on my rear and clawed at my clothes, popping buttons and tearing at the zipper. I felt like I was in a sauna. Even as I stripped myself naked, the heat stayed. I felt his eyes on me, felt the humiliation of his grin, as I writhed naked and panting in front of him.
	“Your fur,” he said. “Wow. Look at it!”
	I lifted my paw and stared at the back of it. My fur was disappearing, like melting ice, absorbing into my skin. For a few moments I looked like a plucked chicken, pink and naked. But the pink grew darker, brighter, becoming a violent, intense fuchsia. All the variations and blemishes of my skin blurred away, pores filling in, freckles disappearing. And in their place, a glossy sheen appeared. I lifted my paws to my muzzle, then let out a squeak that sounded like it came from a plush toy.
	“You look very cute,” he said with a laugh.
	I felt around the edges of my mouth, not daring to reach in past my lips. I knew what my fingers would taste like, and I didn’t want that disgusting taste again. My mouth was now a circular hole in the end of my muzzle, and my tongue moved around inside a constantly lubricated tunnel lined with flexing, undulating ridges. I expected this: conventional Null Suits have a fuck hole for a mouth, after all, and that code was still in this version. But it was one thing to expect it, and quite another to experience it. I let out another squeak and hugged my arms around myself.
	He spun a finger in the air. “Turn around.”
	The command didn’t carry the same automatic impulse to obey that I knew conventional Null Suit wearers experienced. But all the same, I turned around without really thinking. The time for being ashamed was long gone. And he was the boss, after all. I crawled on all fours and faced away from him, and heard his chuckle behind me.
	“You’ve got the same tail hole as the regular suits,” he said. “But that tail is different. I’m not sure if I like it.”
	I looked over my shoulder. My bushy tail was now a pouch of shiny latex, squishy and formless. I disagreed with him; I thought it looked good. Like a cartoon balloon version of myself. But when I tried to express my thoughts, I again just produced a toy-like squeak.
	“And there’s one other thing different.” He lifted a foot and nudge the toe of his shoe against my cock. I flinched and shuddered. I was definitely more sensitive down there than normal! “Normal Null Suits don’t keep that body part. Did you leave that in on purpose? I think you planned to test the suit out on yourself the whole time!”
	I squeaked. It was about all I could do. Did I? Surely not. I couldn’t remember though.
	He leaned forward, and I caught a whiff of the drink on his breath. “Let’s go to the party.”
	I wanted to shake my head. I knew that I could if I wanted to. But...I didn’t really want to protest. Just the nudge of his foot had made my cock feel like it’d been fucking something tight and hot for an hour, and I was aching with a sudden need to cum. And that made me imagine the procession of eager cocks all waiting out there to fill my mouth and my rear. The lube in my mouth got thicker, and my hunger started to gnaw again, despite being so recently satisfied by the lion. I lowered my head. The suit was definitely working; I would obey because it made me want to obey, and not because I had to.
	“I’m sure you’ll be very popular,” he said, standing up, stumbling for a moment, then making his weaving way over to the door. I felt almost as wobbly as I followed him, and the lube dripping from the holes at both ends of me left a trail on the floor.
	The party was in one of the many staff lounges. The large room was made small by the crowd of bodies packed into it. There were a few plastic banners strung across the ceiling, and a few dozen balloons trailing ribbons. I couldn’t read the words on the banner; the letters were just a jumble of shapes. As the cat pushed the doors open a cheer went up, and all eyes turned on him, and then to me. I saw hungry grins out there. I realised that everyone knew that the cat had gone to fetch me. Bastard! It was too late to do anything about it now, except suffer the humiliation of crawling into a room full of my colleagues as a pink-skinned latex fucktoy. And the worst part? My identity wasn’t hidden by the anonymity of a regular Null Suit’s features. I was still recognisably me, Julian the wolf, and they would all know exactly who they were fucking when they dumped their loads into me.
	“Who’s first?” cried the cat, accepting a glass of something fruity and colourful from someone.
	“Birthday girl first!” cried somebody. And now the party made sense. From the crowd, a doe stepped forwards, looking sublime in a silky black dress and flushed with drink almost as much as the cat. She laughed and batted her paws at her colleagues, who were goading her on. I sat back on my heels, knowing that my cock was jutting up for all to see, but it didn’t really matter any more. She walked up to me, seeming to have made up her mind, and I saw her confident smile and could only think of one thing: I wondered if she would taste just as good as the guys.
	She curled a finger and turned away towards a door at the far end of the room, accompanied by the whoops and cheers of the crowd.
	“Better follow her,” said the cat, giving my rear a nudge with his toe.
	The crowd parted for me as I crawled through them, following the retreating rear of the doe. I shivered under the assault of their leering comments and laughter, and squeaked each time one of them reached down to stroke my back or tickle behind my ears or stick a finger into my mouth, electrifying me with the glorious taste of another fur’s skin. I finally reached the safety of the door, which led through to a short corridor lined with curtained arches, one of which was opened. Only as I crawled into the cushioned nook beyond did it occur to me that I had crawled all that way by choice.
	She was waiting for me, reclined among the cushions, her finger on a button on the wall which, when pressed, whirred the curtain closed behind me.
	“Julian, right?”
	I squeaked, about the best reply I could give. Although, I could have nodded, but that didn’t occur to me at the time.
	“Do you know my name?”
	I hesitated. I felt like I should know who she was.
	“I’m Linda,” she said. I mentally kicked myself. Yes, I knew her. She was the boss’s assistant. I should have remembered that! She pointed to the floor by her foot. “Come here.”
	I crawled over, feeling like a pet. Why was I obeying? Nothing was forcing me to. I tried to wrestle away from the craving that made my mouth leak and my cock ache, but there was always the thought that reminded me that I could stop any time, so why stop? I crouched down in front of her, looking up, eyes hungrily roaming her body.
	“Looking a little needy there, puppy.” She slipped the shoe off her stockinged foot. The smooth silk of her toe stroked against my tummy, and I closed my eyes. Slowly, her foot slid down, bumping gently against my cock, coaxing another embarrassing squeak out of me.
	“I read your reports,” she said. “I know how your suit works. You’re not forced into doing anything, are you? You could change back out of the latex skin any time you want, can’t you?”
	I rocked my hips gently, rubbing the leaking head of my cock up against her sole. I willed myself to nod, and suddenly the action was so easy. I opened up my eyes again, looking up at her with an expression that I was sure showed my abject humiliation. She was right, damn it.
	“But you can’t stop yourself from choosing to do all these things, can you?” Her head tilted to the side. “I think you’ve made a successful suit there, Julian. But there’s one big flaw. It only works if the wearer wants it to. That rather cuts the market down don’t you think?”
	I shuddered as her foot left my cock, trailing a sticky string of precum. I shuffled forwards and jabbed at her ankle, rocking myself to hump shamelessly against her stocking. She didn’t stop me, but smirked down at me as if she had scored a point.
	“However, I still think it will succeed. It does need a lot more testing, though. But I’m sure you’d be willing to extend your timer again, wouldn’t you?”
	I lifted my paws up onto the cushions either side of her leg. My cock smeared a trail up her shin. I didn’t care any more. I humped her leg like a dog in heat, my back arched forwards, my head down and my lube drool dribbling out to stain her dress.
	“So how long have you got left? A day or two? I know you can extend it, doubling the total time each time. So how about four more days in the suit? That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”
	My howl of pleasure turned into a cute little squeak as an orgasm like no other I’d ever felt blasted through my body and left my mind as incoherent shreds. The gush of cum from my cock came in torrents that would make a horny teenager proud. I smushed my cock against the gloopy mess of her stockings, milking the pleasure until my arms could no-longer hold me up, and I collapsed into a happy heap at her feet, panting for breath. Somewhere in the haze I felt the timer inside me, and I felt it tick over to add four more days to my sentence, turned by the numbed touch of my bliss-cratered mind.
	“Good doggy.” It was almost as if she sensed what I had done, but I knew she couldn’t. It must have shown in my eyes. She lifted her foot up to my mouth. It was streaked with my cum, and I didn’t have to be told to know what she intended me to do; I started licking, and discovered with joy that my own cum tasted almost as good as anyone else’s.
	“When you’re finished,” she said, smoothing down her lube-stained dress, “we’ll go back to the party. And I’m sure you’ll choose to make a lot of people very happy!”
	I didn’t have much to protest as I licked. She was right.

Mid summer, 2022.

Time adds up very quickly, and it’s so easy to lose track of it until, one day, you pause and look back to see that you’ve travelled so much further than you had thought. If you walk a mile and only think of each individual step, you only see the small increments, and it can be easy to forget the accumulating distance. Four days passed quickly, in a rush of dizzying lust and aching hunger, swapping back and forth between the latex depravity of the evening, and the clean-furred normalcy of the day. And as the deadline approached, I extended it for another eight days. After all, that was only a little longer than a week.
	And then the deadline came around again, and this time I barely thought about it as I pushed it back again by another 16 days. Now I would spend days at a time clad in my latex skin, licking and sucking and worshipping, forgetting more and more the work that I left undone during the day. Nobody seemed to care. Julian the wolf was worth less to them than Julian the cum-craving cocksucker. So then the deadline came again, and I had my mouth pressed against a frisky bunny’s taint at the time, lapping his cum from his fur, and I barely even noticed as I added another 32 days to my sentence.
	And like the story about the king and the grains of rice on a chessboard, I kicked the deadline further and further every time I extended it, oblivious to the exponential increase. Each time seemed like such a small step, and I could stop adding days to it any time I wanted to, so why stop when I was enjoying it? I added 64 days, then 128, and soon I was adding years at a time. It didn’t matter. The days blurred together in hedonistic bliss. I didn’t even notice when my name was struck off the employment list and my position was replaced by a colleague. I was a test subject now. Or perhaps just a workplace toy. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.
	And then I met Vase.
	He was a customer. That much I knew. But through some complexity of negotiation and money, he had become a resident of the underground city that CKC had grown into, settling into a custom-built palace dug into the rock. I saw him at a function in one of the entertainment halls, a svelte lynx of elegant sophistication, floating around the room with a glass in one paw and a tipsy young fox boy hanging on his arm. The sharp suit Vase wore told me he had money, and the tight leather shorts and harness that the boy wore told me he had taste. I was dressed in my fur that day, and the ever-present knot of hunger in my stomach was temporarily dulled by the waiter I had kneeled for in the kitchen. But when our eyes met, they stuck, and something communicated across that mutual stare, and I knew that we would be meeting again later.
	That night, as I roamed the hallways, looking for someone to seduce, I bumped into him on a corner, almost literally. He didn’t smile. He didn’t even say anything. He merely raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, then turned and walked. I knew a command to follow when I saw one.
	“What is your name?” he asked, as he waved open the door and led me into his richly-furnished living space. I saw antique furniture and modern chrome and leather mingled together in an eclectic mix. In the past I might have appreciated it, but now I had eyes only for the slim, athletic feline body that shifted gracefully underneath his clothes.
	I struggled with my thoughts for a few moments, having to fish the name out of long-disused memories. “Julian,” I said, realising that I had not spoken that word for years.
	“You’re special, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
	“Yes sir.”
	If he was surprised by my automatic use of the honorific, he didn’t show it. If the fox boy earlier was anything to go by, I suspected he was used to it. “Show me.”
	And with that, he settled back into a high back leather armchair, crossing his legs at the knees and resting his paws on his thighs. His eyes fixed on me, studying me. I hadn’t noticed how brilliantly yellow they were. I felt pinned by them. But I didn’t feel nervous or scared. It was a strange sensation, to feel so acutely at ease with a stranger like him. I knew what he wanted from me...but then again, I didn’t. The lust in those eyes was so very different to what I was used to seeing. It was altogether more...predatory. Yet still no fear? It felt like magic. And I let it work on me.
	I slid out of my clothes as if they were imaginary. The buttons were like air under my fingers. I held his stare as I stripped down, and as I uncovered my fur I flicked the little switch inside me that started melting it away. The shine of the latex skin grew from within me, and out of the corner of my eye I saw it on my arm, a rich purple this time. My mouth contracted into the circular hole that was now as familiar to me as my normal mouth, and I felt the cool tingle of the lube dripping out of my opened tailhole. I started to drop down onto all fours, but he waved a paw to stop me.
	“Stand up straight. Put your paws on your head.”
	I obeyed. And as I stood there, taut and ready, at attention for his inspection, my cock began its steady rise to hardness.
	After the longest time, he spoke, a quiet voice. “Do you think that is appropriate?”
	I struggled to understand what he meant, but if I spoke I knew it would just be a squeak. So I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow.
	“I am given to understand that those who wear the suits like yours, if it can be called a suit, don’t usually have functioning genitals. But I have also been told that this suit is special. You designed it for yourself, did you not?”
	It was frustrating to be unable to reply properly. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t design the suit for myself. Of course I didn’t. It was for the company, and I was just testing. Sure, I had extended the test period a number of times, but when the current deadline arrived I could and would end the test. Of course I would. Nothing was forcing me to continue.
	But I had to nod in answer; I did design the suit, after all. So an answer of yes was the nearest to the truth.
	“And you left in the ability to remain sexually active. Seems rather an oversight to me. But one for which I can thank you…”
	A squeak came to my lips as his fur melted away like mine had, and in its place blossomed the shine of rich crimson latex. His yellow eyes seemed to glow like the sun. I was captivated! But unlike me, his mouth had not changed to a fuck hole, and he flashed a toothy smile at me.
	“When I learned that your work had effectively uncovered immortality, naturally I knew I had to purchase it. After a few...modifications.” He waved a paw airily. “I decided to cut away that, what did you call it? AI fragment? It seemed it would be rather troublesome for me. I don’t want my mind turning against me.”
	He suddenly froze me with a hard look, and the back of my neck began to prickle. It felt like my fur rising, even though I had none at that moment.
	“I would like to stress that I have bought out your project in its entirety.”
	My heart thumped. I could feel the dread realisation coming. I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to hold onto the reassuring uncertainty for just a little long. A thin squeak came spilling out of me. He smiled at me.
	“That includes the suit currently implanted in you. How long is left on your timer?”
	My eyes widened slightly. The deadline gleamed in my mind’s eye as a speck at the end of a long corridor, barely visible. There were years left! My panicked expression must have given him enough of an answer to satisfy him. He chuckled, standing up from the chair.
	“Long enough, then. But don’t worry. You don’t need to consider yourself a slave. You don’t have to obey me if you don’t want to. You are in control of your own destiny.”
	I wondered, then, why I still stood with my paws on top of my head. I could have turned and walked from the room at any time. But I chose to stay. It was my choice to make. I could leave at any time.
	“All except for one thing.” He turned from me, opening a drawer in an antique desk, withdrawing an object of gleaming chrome and pure evil. I squeaked when he walked towards me, and my arms dropped from the top of my head. I shook my head, begging with my eyes.
	“Put your paws back up.”
	He opened up the object, parting metal straps like a blooming flower. I stared down into it, wanting to flee, but wanting to stay, and in that unbearable conflict I writhed. And, slowly, I lifted my paws back up to my head, and I felt like such an idiot, dragged into a trap by my lust, while my brain screamed at me to run.
	“Just hold still now,” he said, his muzzle close to mine, and I felt the metal close around my waist.

Some time in 2029.

The cock clamp deluxe total enclosure belt. A cruel device, invented by the most wicked minds of the CKC labs. For them, the standard cock clamp wasn’t good enough. Oh no. They had to invent something worse. Functionally it was the same, fiendish in its own right. But this version was a complete belt, wrapping around the hips, snug and invulnerable and obvious; even under clothes, it stood out. The device broadcast the helplessness of its wearer.
	And I had been wearing the damn thing for seven frustrating years!
	At first, it was exciting, as all things like this are. I walked the corridors in the belt, feeling it press into my hips, feeling the tube on my cock behind the crotch plate, feeling the stroking, teasing nubs of the bristles inside the tube. I caught the knowing looks from my colleagues, who could see the bulk of the belt beneath my clothes as if I were naked.
	And then, each evening, I would return to Vase’s suite, where he would greet me in his latexed form, and as if by instinct I would shift into my own latex skin, stripping my clothes off and dropping onto my paws and knees. And all the while I would know that I didn’t have to do it.
	I tasted every inch of Vase’s body, in each combination of skin; I licked my tongue along his fur and his shiny red skin and tasted the sweet narcotics of his musk and his sweat and his cum. He never once restricted me from serving others, but one by one they all drifted away, as I began to spend every waking hour working or with Vase, or waiting for Vase. And because I didn’t need to sleep, that meant an awful lot of hours. And I always knew that I didn’t have to do it. And that kept me there.
	But seven years is a long time. Eventually, something would break…
He cupped my chin in his paw and looked me firmly in the eyes. The bed shifted under my knees as he sat on its edge. His claws stroked through the fur of my muzzle, and I watched as his latex faded away back to his natural fur.
	“Is there a problem?” he said.
	I tried to blink away my tears and shook my head.
	“You shouldn’t lie, puppy. Tell me.”
	I lifted my muzzle out of his paw and knelt back on my heels. I strayed my paw down to my crotch and stroked over the smooth metal.
	“Oh, I see. That again, hmm?” He laughed and gently took hold of my wrist, moving my paw away. “Shall I ask you the question? How many times has it been now, a thousand times? Two thousand? And every time it’s always the same answers. Do you want me to take it off?”
	I nodded. I always nodded when he asked that question. I knew the words that would come next.
	“Do you wish to pay the price?”
	And this was the part that always stopped me. No matter how much my cock ached, or how heavy my balls felt, or how cruel the belt had been that day in its constant, merciless edging and teasing, I always shrank back from the price he offered me in exchange for getting one blessed release from the belt; to extend my suit’s deadline again. I always said no. Always, until this day.
	My nod startled him, and it was one of the rare times I’d seen his composure knocked. He placed his paw on my chest and looked me in the eye. “Are you sure?”
	I nodded again. I was sure. I couldn’t take it. Not any longer. The belt was keeping my hard every single hour of the day. It tickled me up to the edge of release countless times. It was a constant, never-ending torment that I had almost got used to...almost. But like a slow burn it built up until it rivaled even my cum hunger, and unlike the hunger there was no way to quench it. Except, finally, to accept Vase’s cruelly expensive offer.
	He climbed fully onto the bed and pressed his weight against his paw and I eased backwards to lay down on the bed, my legs unhooking from underneath me, laying either side of his knees.
	“Say it out loud,” he said.
	I bit my lip and turned my head to the side. “Yes…”
	His arms came down to rest their paws either side of my waist. Slowly, he crawled his way up my body, until his nose met mine. I felt his knees brush against my inner thighs and nudge the metal of the chastity. Our fur mingled, tickling with electric prickles of static.
	“Say it fully.”
	“I want...to extend my deadline. In exchange for…” His lips met mine, and I squeaked into the kiss almost as if I were in latex form. His paws lifted from the bed and trailed feather-light down my sides, until they reached my knees, hooking behind them and pulling. Up went my legs, bending me at the waist, folding me up until my knees pressed into my chest, my feet dangling off his shoulders. My naked tailhole was up, exposed, and I knew what was coming. He broke the kiss to my whimper. “...l-letting me cum. Do...do you want me to change?”
	“No,” he said, and I clenched my toes as I heard him. Getting fucked the natural way, fur on fur...it was a treat that I didn’t get very often. He leaned his weight against my legs and slid his muzzle past mine, bringing the heat of his breath to my sensitive ear. I trembled and felt the slick head of his cock start to nestle between my butt cheeks. “New protocol,” he whispered, and I knew he was talking to my belt. “Allow orgasm when I orgasm.”
	I gasped, and reached my arms around him, clinging tight and pressing my blunt canine claws into his shoulder-blades. The whirling brushes inside the belt went into a frenzy, turning my cock into a pulsing ache of lust. It was real! It was happening! He was going to let me cum! He panted a breath against my ear and I gripped him tighter. Gently, he eased the tip of his cock into me. I groaned under my breath and clawed at his back. I didn’t want him to go slow and gentle this time! I wanted hard and rough. I wanted him to hurry and get to his release so I could end seven years of abstinence!
	“Don’t extend the timer yet. Don’t do it. Not yet. Wait until the last moment.”
	I moved my paws to his waist and tried to drive him deeper into me. The couple of inches he had given me so far were maddening! I whimpered like a little puppy. I didn’t even care that the belt was digging into my stomach. I just wanted to cum!
	“Please!” I panted.
	He chuckled, and then his teeth found my ear. They gripped the delicate membrane and scraped along its edge. I dug my claws hard into his back, but he didn’t react. Slowly, achingly slowly, he slid himself into me, and an infinite age later I felt his fur press against me, and I groaned in delicious satisfaction, giving a little wiggle to my rear, feeling his shaft settle comfortably inside me, like I was built to fit him. I expected him to start humping, but he had other ideas. I yelped as I felt him twitch inside me, and I groaned weakly while he panted his amusement into my ear. The bastard was flexing his pelvic floor muscle, bobbing his cock up against my prostate, making me feel the fleshy nubs of his feline barbs, but not giving me the thrusting friction I needed. I turned my muzzle to stroke against his neck, and panted my little pleas for mercy.
	“Do it now,” he whispered.
	I groaned and clung to him tighter. The price was high. I was having second thoughts. Time stretched out as an infinite reach in front of me, and throwing that deadline forward again would send it sailing into the distant reaches, decades hence. I parted my lips, inhaling to speak, but any words I might have said were washed away by the sudden inferno of pleasure as he started to rock his slender hips and piston his thick cock in me.
	“Do it,” he gasped. I clawed at his back. I pressed my nose into his fur and inhaled his scent. I nibbled on the skin of his shoulder, biting down, wetting fur with my drool. “Do it. Do it.” He panted the mantra as he thrusted. His claws raked at my sides, sharper than mine, leaving red welts under my fur, trails of cold heat that made me writhe underneath him, trapped and crushed between his body and the bed, fucked hard and fast, jolting the breath from my lungs and making me gasp and pant, my tongue lolling out of the side of my mouth and tasting the sweat on his neck. I cried out, a wordless sound of emotion, everything crashing together at once, overwhelming me, making me want to scream and thrash. I held tight onto him and he held tight onto me, and he rode me through his orgasm and mine, mingling and blurring into a merged cacophony of animal cries. I released into the pure, blistering, sweet white light of orgasm, my thoughts kicked out of my head with a rush far better than any drug, spinning through a void of painful, near unbearable pleasure. It was heaven, and I felt that I would die if I endured even a second more of it. And I clawed at him, anchoring myself to him, gripping that reality of his body. And as I cascaded past the peak into the soothing calm that followed, and let my legs slide off his shoulders so he could slide wetly from my rear and roll me over to lay behind me, pressed against my back, his arms around my waist and his breath on my neck, I touched the timer with a mental flick and without a shred of trepidation, and watched it disappear into the distant future, knowing that it sentenced me only to more blissful years with this wonderful man and this amazing life.
	He didn’t ask me if I had done it. I could have lied, taking my reward without paying the price. But he seemed to know that I wouldn’t do that. He murmured contently, a purr building in his throat. Soon it would be vibrating against my shoulder blades, a soothing sound to drift off to.
	“How long is it now?” he breathed.
	“A long time,” I said. “Not long enough.”

New Year’s Eve, 2399.

Immortality does strange things to you. They say that, for a normal lifespan, the years seem to pass quicker as you get older, due to each successive year being a smaller and smaller fraction of your overall lifespan. The same happens for a truly long life. I barely noticed as the years passed, and only when pausing to reflect does the time stretch out in its true length.
	I sat with Vase in the grand and venerated hall of the CKC palace, six miles beneath the surface, counting down the seconds, surrounded by the colleagues and friends who had each implanted their own copy of my Null Suit design, with various personalised modifications. Old minds resided in young bodies, and out in the sprawling reaches of the underground city that CKC had become, artificial intelligences slumbered quietly while automated systems kept systems running in empty rooms and halls.
	Vase exhaled a wine-tinged breath against my ear. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
	“Oh?”
	He tapped my nose, then pointed at the countdown clock on the wall at the end of the hall. The cat was up there, raising his glass to the room and shouting some drunken speech to the cheers of the crowd. The clock ticked over, twelve seconds to go, and the cheers hushed away, and a great dane tugged the cat away, hugging the giggling drunk.
	A cheer went up through the crowd, and hundreds of voices called out at once. “Ten!”
	I gasped, clutching my seat. I heard Vase chuckle under his breath.
	“Nine!”
	I turned to look at him. The heat flush took hold. “Y-you bastard,” I whispered.
	“Eight!”
	He grinned back at me. His paw slid across the small of my back and cupped my hip. “I know.”
	“Seven!”
	I bit my lip, stifling a whimper, and leaned my head against his shoulder. A shaky shudder rippled through me.
	“Six!”
	I caught the table with my knee, rattling glasses and plates. I closed my eyes and whined into the fur of his neck. My paw gripped at his lapel. “M-make it stop.”
	“Five!”
	He patted my cheek and kissed my forehead. “Just enjoy it, puppy.”
	“Four!”
	I held tight to him. I felt like I was tearing his tux. I didn’t care. Damn the belt. Its brushes whirled in a frenzy around my confine cock, and I could barely hold my composure, my cry of lust muffled into Vase’s neck.
	“Three!”
	He exhaled through my cheek fur. I could feel the rush coming. “D-does it have to be right here, in front of everyone?”
	“Two!”
	“They won’t know.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me against him. Everyone else had their eyes on the clock. His eyes were on me. I gasped and braced myself, feeling the brink approach.
	“One! Happy new year!”
	I cried out, feeble and helpless, my cock pumping its glorious release into the belt, while Vase whispered soft encouragement into my ear. The shame burned in my cheeks, more intense than any I had felt in years. Hundreds of years with this lynx, and still he invented new ways to thrill me. I turned my head up to his, panting through my climax, and met his lips for the first kiss of the year.
	And none of us felt the shake and rumble from the surface, miles above us.

Winter, always winter, roughly 2600.

The storm crackled through the black sky above the broken stumps of the cathedral’s arches. The snow lay in thick sheets over every exposed surface. But we didn’t feel the cold; a side-effect of the suits that became all too useful when the rock fell and blotted the sky. Our fur gleamed in the light from the bioluminescent lantern, cast with pale green hues that lent an unearthly sheen to the scene. I touched my fingertips to his cheek and lingered in the yellow glow of his eyes.
	“They look like the sun,” I murmured.
	He smirked. “How would you know? You haven’t seen it for a century.”
	“I remember what it looks like.” I scooted down to rest my head against his chest. We were naked. Well, mostly. My belt rubbed against his side, the brushes inside dormant and lifeless, as they had been for the last twenty years, since the batteries ran down. “And it looks like your eyes.”
	“Hmm.” He caressed my shoulder blades, his eyes cast up to watch the snowflakes trickle down into the glow of our lamp.
	“Hmm?”
	“Do you think it’s getting warmer?”
	I looked up at the snow, then frowned at him. “Sure. Why not.”
	My paw trailed down the taut flatness of his tummy, on an inexorable mission. He lay still, his paws behind his head, the packed down snow cradling our bodies. He sighed happily as my paw found his cock, and one paw extricated itself from behind his head, moving to cup the back of my head, nudging it down to the place that I was going to go anyway. I suckled at the tip, worshipping it as if it were the first time I had tasted it, and not the millionth. He rubbed his fingers across my scalp, making gentle noises of encouragement.
	“I have an idea, puppy,” he said, his voice tinged with his arousal. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
	“Mmm…” I wasn’t really listening. My mouth squeezed around his shaft, and I hummed gently to vibrate the tip. And then, while I had him swallowed up in the wet heat of my muzzle, I let myself change into my latex form, transforming my mouth to the perfect fucksleeve for him, and I heard my reward as he cried out in sudden pleasure.
	“We can go back to CKC…”
	I squeaked, muffled by his cock. But I didn’t stop sucking. I looked up at him with a reproachful glare.
	“Yes, I know. But it might be different now. Maybe the cat and his friends have moved on? Maybe the place is empty.”
	I squeaked again. There were so many retorts in that squeak, but none of them could possibly be understood. I slurped on the head of his cock and tried to distract him from this line of thinking.
	“The important thing…” He stopped to moan, and kneaded the back of my head, driving me down harder until my nose rested in his crotch fur. “The most important thing, is getting back there and finding a key or a charger for your belt. You do want to get out of it, right?”
	I nodded, slightly, as much as I could with his cock in my throat.
	“Or maybe you just want it reactivated so it can keep teasing you.”
	I squeaked and shook my head, and he winced. I tried to say sorry, but it was just another squeak. I think he got the message, though, and his fingers resumed their gentle caress.
	“I know how to convince you,” he breathed, and I felt his cock pulse in my throat, almost there. “If we get that belt off you, I’ll suck your cock.”
	My head shot up off his cock and I stared at him, daring him to laugh, daring him to take it back as a joke. He laughed and pulled my head back down, sliding just the tip past my lips.
	“I mean it,” he said. “I will...ah…” I shuddered my eyes closed and gulped down his delicious seed. “I promise…”

Two years later, so roughly 2602.

The sun scorched the desert, baking the sizzling rocks and turning the air to wavy shimmers, bleaching the concrete bones of the great carcases of buildings. The snow had melted away to rain, great stormy torrents that flooded and scoured the land clean. Then the sky had emptied and the sun regained its throne with vengeance.
	Down into the broken crater we crawled, seeking out the shattered tunnels. Neither of us spoke, subdued into silence by the eerie calm of the empty ruins. Our fur dripped with sweat. I followed Vase; I recognised nothing in this altered landscape, but he could see the signs in the tumbled boulders and twisted metal. We dropped down into a passageway, bringing with us a cascade of gritty sand.
	And the lights blinked on.
	The cool breath of air-conditioning dried our fur. The electric lights bathed us in soft white light. The elevators carried us silently. I marvelled at the feel of the carpet between my toes, so different to the dirt and the stones of our two year long hike across the continents. I braced myself against expectation, hugging Vase’s arm.
	The door opened to silent corridors, lit up as if waiting for us. I wondered if they had been activated by our arrival, or had been left on all this time.
	Vase cleared his throat. “Is anyone there?”
	“Hello Vase.”
	I jumped in fright. The answer had come with no delay, an artificial voice, smooth and feminine, chiming from speakers in the ceiling.
	“AI?” asked Vase.
	“In a way, yes Vase.”
	“Which one?”
	A pause. “Hello Julie. It’s good to see you again.”
	An ancient memory rose to the fore of my mind, and the shock of it nearly made me faint. “Linda?!”
	“Yes, Julie. Or at least, an aspect of her.”
	Vase looked at me. “Who’s Linda?”
	“She used to work here, at CKC. She didn’t take a suit. So that’s where you went.”
	“You’re looking for something,” she said, voice unblemished by concern. “Yes?”
	We moved through corridors and rooms that seemed unchanged from when I last saw them. Here and there, though, were hints of the long years; rubber seals that had cracked and degraded, bio-lights that had died to grey sludge, potted plants that had turned to dust and dry sticks.
	“Is anyone else here?” I asked.
	“No. The rest left many years ago.”
	Safe, then. I eased my grip on Vase’s arm, and we followed Linda’s directions into one of the labs.
	“Here,” said Vase, picking up a small device from a desk. It looked like a pebble, studded with a single button. He pressed it, and a blue light flickered, brightened, and glowed.
“A debug skeleton key,” I said.
“Still works.”
“We made them well, back then.”
“Well, here we go.”
He levelled the remote to the belt. And for a moment I felt a lurch in my gut, a sudden rush of fear. The belt had been part of me for so long. Would I be able to stand being parted from it? Had Vase moved slower, I might have stopped him. But he pressed the button and I felt the belt click, unsealing its lock with its last wisp of power.
“Oh wow,” I breathed, sliding a thumb under the waistband, feeling the two halves separate and drop away from my fur. The dormant, bristle-lined tube slid off of my cock, and I felt the naked air against it for the first time in...forever.
	“How does it feel?”
	“Like…” I gaped wordlessly. I shook my head, let the belt drop to the floor. Gently, I stroked my fingers against the skin of my cock, amazed by it. I watched as it rose up, slowly hardening, as if nervous, unable to believe that it was free. I looked up at Vase, my eyes watering. “Thank you,” I whispered.
	He lowered onto his knees, right there in the empty lab, in an empty facility, watched over by a thousand ghosts and the impassioned eyes of Linda’s computerised personality. I trembled, feeling more scared than of anything in my life. I had never felt his lips there, unique amongst all the parts of my body, the only part of me he had never tasted. I stifled a small whimper, and fought against the sudden jellification of my knees.
	“You don’t have to…”
	“Shh puppy.”
	He laid his paws on my thighs. I watched him, wanting to burn every detail into my memory, to cherish for eternity. He licked his lips, pink tongue wetting. Then, with delicacy and grace that made me want to weep, he touched his lips to my cock and caressed them down, down its length, soft as the air, warm as the simmering sea. The twin suns of his eyes turned up to me, locking me with his stare, while his tongue gently tickled and made me shudder. He knew...he knew how sensitive I would be. If he sucked too hard, pressed too roughly, it would...he would…
	My cry of pleasure echoed up and down the corridors. I flailed my arms, losing control of my body, writhing in the storm of orgasm, on and on, an eternity of pleasure. His paws gripped me, stopping me from falling as my legs gave way. Gently, he lowered me into a chair, and eased his mouth off of my cock, careful not to touch it. I panted, whimpering, gasping, utterly insensible, a smile painted on my face. I felt his fingers against my cheek, his kiss on my forehead, and I closed my eyes, welcoming exhaustion, and slowly drifted away, feeling his arms slide under my back and knees, lifting me up, carrying me, and I smiled in my drowsy half-sleep, feeling safe.
	“Where...are we going?” I whispered.
	“Remember my old suite, from when we first met? If it’s still there…”
	“Mmmm.” I cuddled against him. “I remember.”

Now

I can’t claim that this is the end of my story. Eternity stretches endlessly ahead, a gift granted to us and few others. They’re out there, somewhere, roaming the empty world, or perhaps by now wandering away from it. We would meet them again. Eternity is a big place, and a lot could happen in it.
	But, for now, beneath the surface on this empty world, deep inside an empty city, filled with wonders from ancient days of glory, watched over by the sleepless circuitry of an old friend, the two of us reacquainted ourselves with silk sheets and warm, comfortable pleasure, and with the one part of my body that we had not shared for so many years. And we were in no great hurry. We had all the time we wanted. We had eternity.