title: Traitor aliases: [] tags: [FA] author: [Fxatencio] id: [49474797] date: 星期六, 十月 29日 2022, 6:53:49 晚上 modified: 星期六, 十月 29日 2022, 6:55:55 晚上
[TOC]
Traitor
Antony can hardly remember the time before the giant Anthro army conquered Earth and enslaved humanity. His knowledge of human society, and of the ragtag human Resistance, keeps him alive under the brutal treatment of Fang, his German Shepherd master. However, survival comes at a price; betraying humanity forever.
Antony had a nightmare again. The same one he always had. More blurry visions of that day he could barely remember. The day that the Sun was blocked out by fangs dripping with blood. The day that the skies were filled with fire and the savage howls and roars of war. The day that humanity was once and for all crushed under the massive jackboots of the Anthros. Nobody knew where they came from, why they were so big or why they were so cruel. Then again, ants never know who stomps them into the dirt.
Antony tossed and turned in his sleep, whimpering as he caught glimpses of that dreadful day. He was so young. His parents forced him into the basement and begged him to be quiet. He couldn’t stop screaming and crying. That was the last he saw of them. When they disappear into the blur of memory - that’s always when Antony wakes up, panting and screaming, struggling helplessly against the thick, sweat-soaked material of Fang’s sock. The stench of that sock was more than enough to wake Antony up. He adjusted to his surroundings in the dark, dank, humid prison. The German Shepherd, who slept in a cot above his discarded socks, could hear Antony’s cries with his sensitive ears.
“Quiet, human!” He barked. He picked up his worn-out sock and growled at the sight of the pathetic little creature squirming in it.
“Fucking pathetic insect…” He snarled. “You humans thought you were the dominant species. Now you’re making your nest in my fucking toe jam. I said SHUT THE FUCK UP in there! Or I’ll break every bone in your puny body!”
Fang was the ruthless German Shepherd who commanded the Anthro regiment that exterminated Antony’s town. He pulverized every man, woman and child he saw to a pulp, turning their civilization to dust under his boots. Under his iron fist, the land that was once known as Great Britain, the land that Antony proudly called home, was reduced to a dumping ground for piles of rubble and corpses. In the scarred ruins, Fang and his soldiers took the few survivors and made them into their slaves. Antony spent his entire life in the shadow of his macro overlords. He was raised to accept them as his gods and obey them without question. Antony witnessed horrific acts of violence towards humans on a staggering scale, but said nothing, for fear that he would be next.
“Are you that fucking dumb, bug,” Fang said, “that you can’t follow a simple instruction? Keep making those stupid noises, and I’ll shove you into the sausage grinder feet-first!”
As much as Fang and his fellow Anthros loved threatening Antony with torture, they would never kill him… yet. His information about “human nests,” as Anthros called them, was too valuable.
Fang took a sniff of his own sock and snapped his jaws. The smell was intolerable, like vinegar, cheese and corn chips mixed in a nauseating concoction. To top it all off was the overpowering dominant musk of an alpha male canine. There was no other smell like it.
“Fuck, I’m so horny…”
Fang reached under his meager covers and stroked his enormous red rocket. He had grinded countless humans to paste against that throbbing, foul-smelling length. Countless families and towns obliterated just so the beastly soldier could get off. War, dominance and carnality were all the Anthros knew, and all they ever wanted out of life. Fang fitted the sock over his shaft and let Antony fall to the base of the cock. The human was trapped between the damp fabric and the veiny, red-hot shaft. The raw sexual smell of his dick combined with the rank odor of his paws.
Then he started to pleasure himself. Fang was gentle enough to spare Antony from death, but rough enough to blind him with the salty sting of dick sweat. It was easy for the alpha Shepherd to get carried away, roughly humping his cumsock and the little runt who was glued to the inside of it by greasy cock musk. The remarkably virile dog lasted for what felt like an eternity.
“Get to work, bitch,” Fang huffed. “LICK IT.”
Antony gasped and licked the scalding monument to barbarity that stood before him. The taste was wretched. Anthros never cleaned themselves, using their smell to mark their territory, inspire fear and humiliate their enemies. Fang was currently using his smell to do all three of those things to Antony. Whenever an anthro thought their paws, ass, armpits or genitals were too dirty - which wasn’t often - they’d force an unfortunate group of micros to give them a tongue bath.
Antony had been trained to regard Anthro cocks as idols to be worshiped. For years, he was broken down by their size, strength and stink until he no longer resisted. He felt honored to service them and be marked by their intense scent. He slobbered his teeny tongue all over Fang’s furry sheath, which was stained with the dried accumulation of unmentionable fluids. Antony wanted to suck it clean and make his master happy, no matter how sour it was. He climbed up the cock, kissing and adoring the big smelly beast that would have smashed him into human soup if he didn’t had the information its owner needed to win the war. With every wet kiss he gave that foul, leaky shaft, Antony was selling out his own species.
“Traitor!”
Antony was called that word many times by Resistance fighters, after he led the Anthros to the locations of their secret bases. It was often their last words, as the pitiful Resistance forces would quickly become stains on boots or extra protein. At first, their words hurt, but not anymore. Traitor or not, he survived, and they didn’t.
Soon, Antony made his way up to the beast’s tip, which leaked a noxious torrent of precum. The vile substance irrevocably stained anything it touched with its stench. Antony immediately buried his face in it and drank it up, gagging on the foul taste but not wanting to displease his master. After endlessly being surrounded by massive dicks, being forced to service them, and being told that servicing them was the only thing a human bug like him was useful for, it was kind of second nature to him. He no longer needed to be prodded and ordered around. As he worshiped the cock head, Antony could hear the sounds of sex from other Anthros in the barracks. They, too, were forcing their human slaves to take care of their middle-of-the-night hard-ons. Sometimes they would use their humans too hard and break them, but that wasn’t a big deal. There were always more. Humans were like flies, the Anthros said. They never stopped reproducing.
The river of precum soon became a flood which washed Antony away into its sticky, musky grip. Fang was the alpha male and he produced an astonishing amount of seed, emptying his sack onto his human slave with guttural moans of pleasure.
“Clean this shit up, maggot,” he said, putting his arms behind his head. “You don’t want your home to be dirty, do you?”
Antony got to work eating the messy wad of dog cum that inundated his surroundings. It reeked of masculinity and the taste was even more potent. It, along with toe jam, sock lint, paw dirt, piss and sweat, was a staple of the new human diet. Exhausted, Antony quickly fell asleep in a sticky puddle he had neglected to clean up. Fang was already asleep.
The barracks and their humans awoke to the Reveille. Antony woke up to the suffocating feeling of being crushed against Fang’s morning wood. He was still stuck inside the sweaty sock which was his only shelter from the cruel world around him. Fang yanked the sock off of his dick and laughed at the broken, battered human left clinging to the dried cum puddle.
“Looks like you missed a spot, bitch,” he said. “Breakfast is ready.”
Fang coldly threw Antony onto the floor so he could see the “breakfast” he was referring to: Fang’s trashed boots, caked in dirt.
“Eat up.”
Antony spent the next hour crawling all over the gigantic boots, choking down the revolting chunks of dirt that clung to them from months of combat. The soles were the worst part. Thick clumps of mud, debris and the desiccated remains of innocent humans were mashed into them. Antony licked until they were spotless, getting his body in between those harsh treads for deep cleaning. The tops of the boots were so tongue-polished that he could see his reflection in them. After everything he went through, his body was strong and healthy. He had a thick mane of reddish-brown hair and violet-colored eyes. This, combined with his servile personality, was what made Anthros so covetous of him. He was a status symbol, a luxury breed of human. Owning him made them feel special.
As Antony worked on his master’s filthy boots, Fang began his morning routine. He observed lineups of hundreds of shackled human prisoners. He stomped some with his bare paws. He made others into his breakfast, chomping them into gory ruins with his vicious fangs and letting their remains drip down onto their horrified brethren. He lifted up his leg and pissed on some of the humans, shattering their bones with the extreme force and leaving their broken bodies languishing in a pool of boiling, acrid waste. The last sound they heard was Fang laughing at how pathetic they were.
For some humans in the lineup, most of them former Resistance fighters, Fang reserved the worst punishment of all. He picked them up and dropped them into his boots, letting them suffer and collapse in the extreme heat and odor. Once they were barely alive, he would put on his boots and slowly pummel them into his swampy, dirt-lined insole until they were nothing more than more gunk clinging to his unwashed socks. Antony got to watch this atrocity first-hand.
“You need a drink to wash down your breakfast,” Fang said. “Open wide!”
Fang removed his boots and socks and wrung them out over Antony, drenching him in sweat and blood. Antony knelt and cowered under the deluge.
“Look your master in the eye,” Fang barked. “You sicken me, groveling like the bug slave you are. You are hardly worthy to eat the dirt from my paw pads.”
“Y-yes master,” Antony said nervously. “I know, master.”
“Why, you may be wondering, do I keep your sorry ass alive, then? That is if your human brains are even big enough to wonder things. Well, it’s because you have information I need. I’ll keep it simple enough for you to understand. Today, we have a LONG march ahead of us. Tell me where your fellow humans have gone off to hide, and I’ll let you ride in my underwear. Don’t tell me, and you’ll ride in my boot.”
Fang sneered. A shivering Antony told him everything.
THE END... for now...