This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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"It wasn't my fault! I didn't mean -- ah! No! There was no offence caused, this is a definite misunderstanding! Just listen to me."
Tyree gasped as he was hauled up the long staircase to the temple, rising within the deep forest. Heat clung to his skin, though perspiration slicked down his clothes to his skin, a curse snarling up from the back of his throat.
It had been a mistake, yes -- but not quite in the sense that he meant. Visiting Pyroc, well... He'd been before and had been there more than enough to become comfortable with the locals, the natives speaking in a rougher, courser tongue, though they shared a secondary language with him too. Tyree usually spoke in that language, thinking that he didn't need to learn more, not when his language was by far superior anyway.
"This is a misunderstanding -- heavens, you people!"
He growled as they hauled him into the temple, even though it should have been a splendour to witness on a normal day. His feet kicked out and he scrabbled, hissing through his teeth as he clunked his heel on a plinth at the top of the stairs, head throbbing where a pounding headache was already brewing.
Visitors were not usually welcomed into the temple, except at certain times of the day at certain times of the week and, frankly, he wasn't all that interested in it anyway. It was a grand old structure, that much was certain, but it looked too close to a ruin to him, with the long, winding vines, as if half of it was being reclaimed by the jungle. However, the temple was a well-maintained structure and cleaned daily, people of the civilisation, though they often seemed to be reptilian around the temple, sweeping and cleaning the pathways.
A raptor-like creature, each one different, guarded the temple, though those were something that Tyree was keen to avoid. Anything with sharp teeth that didn't seem to have anyone controlling it, well... He wasn't going to tangle with anything like that at all.
Yet the temple was hewn from a golden stone, some parts carved and other parts made of blocks of stone, some sanded smooth into curves, so they could form columns and more. The majority of the temple was under cover, with a ridged roof, with not a scrap of moss on it in the slightest, and Tyree heaved as he was finally hauled under the roof.
A lizard-man (well, perhaps he was appropriating to assume the tall, lizard-like anthro was a man) ripped with lean, vicious muscle gripped him by the base of his neck, pinching in roughly, and he cried out. It was not the sort of cry that should ever have broken his lips, not in the slightest, but, even then, Tyree's heart pounded far more swiftly than it should have been able to, grunting as he strained to bear through it.
Oh, how they would pay for treating him like that! The lizard people, Aurelian Taithes, should have been a friendly people! Didn't they know who he was? Okay, so, granted, his father was not all that well known, but he was still a dignitary travelling from land to land, known and regarded highly by those in higher circles.
And those there should have realised he was of the same blood, with the same look in his eyes, a narrow nose and a square, broad chin with a strong jawline. No wonder he had suitors practically everywhere, women throwing themselves at his feet...
But that was just his perspective and, well, sometimes that could be skewed. Even he admitted, sometimes, that he was not all as good as he made himself out to be, but that, in his opinion, was just how he had got as far in life as he was. He didn't simply live in the shadow of his father and had made his own name and business too -- so he was most certainly someone worth knowing around Pyroc.
He sucked in a breath, drawing himself up tall, despite the grip on the back of his neck.
"Now, I assure you there has been some mistake here," he said roughly, fumbling with the language a little. "If you will be so amenable as to let me out..."
But the muscular lizard dragged him off, as if he was just something to be moved about, leaving him struggling, though he wasn't strong enough to rip himself free of the anthro's grasp. He cursed under his breath and heaved -- but he wasn't the only one up there either.
"Ah -- Siren? What in heaven's name are you doing here?"
He used a term referring to religion so easily when it was not a part of his daily language and lexicon, though his acquaintance, Siren, groaned as he was bound to a slab, flat on his back.
Although Tyree was not exactly close to Siren, there was a friendship there, of a sort. More often than not, they were drinking buddies, though Siren's trade business was not doing as well as Tyree's was, though that could have been simply because Tyree's connections were stronger than Siren's. It wasn't something he thought all that much about.
Siren, however, was moderately muscled, a little more so than Tyree, with blonde hair that came down around his ears. He had always struck Tyree as a little more on the messy, unkempt side of things, though Tyree tried not to judge someone too harshly, especially when it came to outward appearances. Tyree had been bad at that when he'd been younger, but even he could grow, despite what some people said about him.
He had a smaller face than Tyree, almost babyish, as if he had not quite grown into his own body yet, though Tyree thought Siren was a year, maybe two, older than he was. Some people just took longer to mature like that, in their twenties, and find their style. With the eclectic mismatch of clothing that Siren was prone to wearing, however, that could end up taking longer than expected. As always, Siren was dressed with a brighter, sharper red jacket that cut off across his stomach, showing a bare strip of skin, despite the shirt beneath, and long trousers with a ragged yet flared bottom.
Yeah, Tyree didn't really get his sense of style. He was dressed far more smartly in a jacket with gold-tone buttons and a pressed collar, his trousers showing off the slender nature of his legs. He'd heard the lizard-folk there, in particular, liked slender legs like that, so he was just playing up what he had to work with there.
He blinked at Siren for a moment too long, however, his lower jaw slack without his lips actually parting. And that was enough for the lizard folk, generally very fit with obvious, defined muscle, to heave him over to another slab, though that one was tilted a little, so his head would end up a little higher than his feet. It was still troublesome and he complained as they bound him.
