Chapter 1: The half-breed
Author's note: There is minimal sexual content in this chapter, as this is the buildup for the rest of the story and introduction to some of the main characters. If you would like to skip to the juicy details, skip to chapter 2. Additionally, this story contains some of the following themes: Gay domination, hypnosis, incest, futanari, furry content, gangbang, male domination, gender bending, cum inflation, male pregnancy, and others that haven't been decided yet as this is a work in progress. Do not read if the above are not your thing. If not, I hope you enjoy.
My life changed forever the day I met Kyree.
It had been a perfectly ordinary day for me, in fact, it had been a great day. I had gotten up early in the morning, feeling refreshed and energized, ready to tackle the day head on. The commute to work was not unbearable, for once I did not get held up in traffic, making me a half hour early to the office. I had my quarterly review that day, and thanks to my hard efforts, received a substantial raise and a promotion. The remainder of my shift was spent moving my things from the cubicle I had spent the last three years occupying to my brand-new office. My coworker, Elias, an enormous, muscular Equis (The name of a race of horse-like people) with coal black eyes and a friendly smile about fifteen years my senior, helped carry some of the heavier items before offering me a hearty handshake in congratulations. "No one works nearly as hard as you do, Ezra," he had said. "Enjoy it, you definitely earned it." A sentiment that seemed to be echoed by the rest of the office.
I smiled at him, returning the handshake. "Thanks El," I replied. Briefly, I noticed the rather large bulge in his pants stir as we shook, but I ignored it and moved on with my day.
After work let out for the day, with a few co-workers and I staying late to finish up some projects, Elias and a few of the guys invited me to join them at the local dive bar for some celebratory drinks, an invitation I gladly accepted. The other two joining us, Samuel, known as Sammy to me, a Reigus (the proper term for a race of dog-like people), and Kyle, another human like me, both offered their own congratulations for my promotion over a couple of cold beers raised in a toast.
Kyle and Sammy were like night and day. Kyle was, and I don't mean to sound crude here, the very definition of a femboy. He had very feminine features, almond shaped blue eyes with long lashes, soft cheekbones, and plump lips that, objectively, looked very kissable. He was thin and shapely, with two small mounds on his chest and I very pronounced bubble butt that he loved to show off by wearing the tightest jeans he could find, pants which also showed off his impressive bulge. It would be easy to mistake him for a woman, and in fact our friendship was founded on the fact that I did mistake her for a woman and tried to hit on him my first day on the job.
Sammy, Kyles boyfriend, on the other hand, could never have been mistaken for anything other than a man. He had thick, broad shoulders with muscular arms. You could easily see his six pack through the form-fitting shirts he wore. His grey fur was always kept neatly trimmed, accentuating his rough jawline and deep-set brown eyes. He usually wore looser pants than Kyle, though that did nothing to hide the impression from his enormous balls hidden beneath them. He had nearly killed me when I hit on Kyle my first day, but I managed to avoid his wrath by going to the gym with him. After keeping up with him, he had given me his begrudging respect, and that had evolved, in no small part thanks to Kyle's intervention, into a friendship.
It happened late in the evening. Sammy and Kyle were more than a little drunk and getting handsy with each other, making some very lewd suggestions as to what they were going to do that night when they got home, and I needed some air. Don't get me wrong, I had nothing against their relationship (they had been together since before I started working for the company), it was just that I had just gone through a breakup with my girlfriend of three years and seeing the two of them like that reignited old feelings in me, bringing down my mood. Kyle immediately caught on and tugged on my shoulder. "Hey man," he said softly, his voice just as feminine as his appearance. "Sorry about that. I forgot about what happened between you and Ellen."
I shrugged him off and offered him a smile. "Don't worry about it," I replied sincerely. "My feelings aren't your fault. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry for bringing down your mood. I'll be back in a few minutes." And with that, I excused myself and stepped out the back door into the alley between the bar and its neighbor.
"Shut the fuck up you little fag and suck my dick."
The harsh words, hushed though they were, carried on the night air, causing me to spin toward the source of the sound. Nothing readily presented itself as the primary culprit, so I began to slowly move deeper down the alley. After a moment, I heard the distinct
smack
of flesh meeting flesh and hurried my pace. Turning a corner, I stopped cold as what I saw filled me with rage.
He was small, roughly the size of a large child, with pale blue skin and emerald eyes, eyes from which tears were streaming down his face, pooling on his chin before splashing down onto his shredded jeans stained with what I assumed was urine. His shirt, a simple grey t-shirt, had been ripped open, revealing his petite, feminine frame. His smooth skin was marred with cuts and bruises, one of his eyes was already swelling shut where he had obviously just been punched, and his long, black hair was currently being held in the fist of the source of the voice.
Three men had surrounded the boy, forming a semi-circle around him, pinning him against the alley wall. The man holding on to the young man's hair, a short, balding human wearing an old, stained Metallica shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans, had his semi-erect cock out and was attempting to drunkenly force it into the weeping boy's mouth, while the other two, a squat dwarven man with a thick grey beard wearing greasy overalls and a brown furred Caith (a cat-person) in khakis and a button up, stood around him, slowly jerking their own erect members while they laughed at their companion's antics.
"Hey!" I shouted, immediately moving toward the group. "Knock it off!"
Short-and-Balding released the kid's hair and turned to face me, while the other two, zipping up their jeans, fell in line behind him. The boy slumped to the ground, lacking the strength to sit upright on his own. Getting closer, I could smell the stench of alcohol coming from them, and I could see the swell of their pupils. Great, not only were they drunk, but they were also on something as well. This could potentially get messy fast.
"You really should mind your own business," Short-and-Balding sneered, pulling a switchblade from his pocket and snapping it open. "You might find yourself in trouble otherwise."
The other two chuckled at his witticism, pulling their own weapons, a baseball bat for the dwarf and a pair of brass knuckles for the Caith, and arming themselves.
I drew myself up to my full height of six foot three inches and stood my ground as he approached. I was in fairly good shape, going to the gym with the boys at least three times a week. I did not have ripped muscles or bulging abs like Sammy, but I was easily a match for Short-and-Balding and the dwarf. I was unsure of the Caith, as they were known for their speed and agility. If I was going to make it out of this, I had to act before they could react.
"Now," Short-and-Balding said as he stepped closer to me. "Why don't you turn around like a good bo..."
I moved. As soon as he was close enough, I dashed in, closing the distance between us in a fraction of a second. I grabbed the hand holding the knife, twisted and, with a yowl of pain, Short-and-Balding dropped the knife into my waiting other hand. I moved past him, yanking his arm while obstructing his path with my foot, causing him to trip over me while I simultaneously threw the knife at the Caith. I heard a thud behind me and a screech of pain from the Caith, which nearly shocked me out of my rhythm. I was not trained with knives and did not expect to hit something, but I had no time to think about that as I rushed toward the dwarf. He attempted to swing the bat, but I was quicker, throwing a powerful punch at his jaw which connected with a satisfying
crunch.
I briefly turned to see the Caith pulling the knife out of his upper thigh and Short-and-Balding picking himself up off the pavement and without hesitation, I scooped the boy up in my arms and dashed back toward the entrance of the alley.
I was briefly afraid of being followed until I heard Short-and-Balding say "Leave him. It isn't worth it." Sighing in relief, I dashed out to my car in the parking lot, stopping only when I had reached the safety of the lit pavement. Carefully, I grabbed my keys and unlocked the doors, opening the passenger side door and setting him gently. He was delirious at this point, his open eye unfocused and wandering around. Buckling him in, I closed the door and got into the driver's seat. "Ok, kid," I said. "Let's get you to the hospital."
