***!WARNING!***
The follwing story contains scenes of violence and homosexual sex, if this
sort of thing offends you, well, you should probably know the drill by
now: Hit the "back" button or close button, and go to a warm and fuzzy site.
Chances are though that you're not going to listen to me cos you people
are mostly on the honors system. Anyway, send all comments, offers to 
publish, and brownie recipies to tbristol@oswego.edu, or gwydion@scctel.com
because hey, we all just *love* to get e-mail!! Thanks to all my fans for
all your e-mails, because you guys are the real reason I keep writing. And
special thanks going out to that one special fan, you know who you are, 
this would never be spelled right or inspired at all without you. Well,
enough of this sentimental tirade... On with the story!!!

		Love In The Electronic Age - Chapter Four

	When the gun dealer saw the human approach, he thought little of
him. Just another guy down on his luck looking for an easy way out. 
This guy was like all the rest, dirty face and hands, greasy hair, and
a pungent odor that gave the impression that he hadn't showered in days.
His clothes were ratty and wrinkled, giving the appearence of being slept
in on a park bench. 
	He considered the potential client's past, but quickly disregarded
the idea. After all, he didn't need to hear any sob stories, he just wanted
the money, no matter how they got it. As long as the cash had blue backs,
the idiot could be going to kill the President for all he cared. 
	As he felt the wad of bills being pressed into his palm, he could tell
that he was no ordinary bum off the street. It was far too much for one gun, 
and far far too much for a bum to find or scrounge for. Hell, it was enough
to let him take some time off from work for a while, but he knew the extra
cash would mean something, probably silence, which was a free service anyway.
Still, if he was willing to pay that much to keep a simple gun sale quiet, 
he knew the guy couldn't be a suicide, they never gave a damn who the hell
found out the details of their death, and no one cared who sold them the gun...
	He handed the semi to the human with a soft nod, which was replied with
a similar gesture, and then the human was on his way, and so was he...

				************

	Acquiring the gun had been a rather easy matter. It was simply
a quick procedure of finding the right person in the right section of
town at the right time of night and giving him the right amount of
money. And that was all there was to it. The lanky human who had seen
better days stared at the configured pieces of metal in his shaking
hand, not knowing nor caring how a person could be given a mortal wound
by simply squeezing a trigger. All that mattered was that he had the
gun, and now the next phase of his plan could be put into action. 
	The last few days had been hard on his body and spirit, the transition
from sleeping in a bed to on a park bench, wearing the same clothes all the
time, not bathing or showering to the point where his odor was probably far 
beyond repulsive. But... it would all be worth it.
	His searching had turned up nothing, and so far his plan was not
working well, but at least the second phase was ready whenever the first had
its objectives satisfied. 
	The plan... As the human laid back on the park bench he had chosen
for the night, he ran through it again in his mind. It seemed to be the only
thing that his mind could thoroughly focus on anymore, as thinking of anything
else, especially him, reduced him to a pathetic shaking wreck. No, it was better
to think of the plan, and if it succeeded... No, when it succeeded, it had to
succeed, no conditions attached.
	He rolled up a newspaper he had found in a garbage can and placed it 
between his head and the dampened wood of the bench. It had rained last night,
and he would have feared catching pneumonia had he not gotten the vaccine when
he was young. The rain hadn't bothered him much, just the cold that heralded
the coming winter. He shivered involuntaily at the thought of another northern
winter, and hoped that the plan would succeed before it arrived, there was no
vaccine available for freezing to death. 
	His mind returned once again to the plan. First, find him. Then, free
him by any means necessary. It seemed simple enough, but simple plans were
usually the most complex in their implementing. He'd lost track of how long
he'd spent on the first phase, which he hadn't even finished yet. The north and
east sides of the city were covered well, and the west side had been covered 
on that first frantic day which seemed so long ago. That obviously left the
south side, which only had a few abandoned buildings left over from an economic
boom which busted before construction was complete. There wasn't even any
guaruntee that he was in the city, he could be twenty, thirty, forty miles away, 
maybe even a hundred, maybe more. Maybe he was... No, he was alive, he knew it,
he could just *sense* it, it was no delusion that was keeping him going as
doubt had been began to dictate to him the last few days. All he needed was
one simple sign to send the doubt away.. Just one simple...
	His eyes drooped shut as sleep welcomed the human into its arms and 
allowed his tattered mind and weary body to rest...

				**************

	Kurt rubbed his wrists again, just enjoying the fact that the cuffs 
were no longer on him. Granted, the small chamber he had been locked into
wasn't fantastic, but it was a huge step up from the table. It allowed very
little movement, making the idea of exercise to keep up his strength a laughable
idea. 
	After his wrists were satisfied, he returned his paws to his face, rubbing
the dried blood from the scar lines that had been there since he had been abducted.
Scars mottled the rest of his body, making his muscles ache with every movement, but
still, the lines on his face still stung greatly. He tried to force a grin for the
security camera that watched him from the ceiling fifteen feet up, but only winced
instead. The charade he had been keeping up for the last week had been paying off, 
but had been hurting him more day by day. He leaned against the wall with his shoulder
pressing into the cement and concrete, causing him to yelp a little, as it was 
dislocated, but it beat the pain from leaning back or sitting down, as his tail had
been broken during his "master's" last bout with him. He instinctive rubbed his left
buttock, where the branding iron had been pressed, making him roar louder than he
ever had in his life. Kurt then had to act as if he enjoyed it, as if being branded
as the wolf's property was exactly what he wanted. 
	His charade had still held, being held steady by acting inversely to every
action the wolf took, hating him more with every passing moment, yet acting as if
he loved him more and more, that he wanted him, needed him. The rapings were becoming
tougher to endure though, as more and more pain was inflicted upon him, it became
more and more difficult to take his mind away and put himself with Chris.
	Chris... A tear emerged from his eyes and rolled downward, the salt filled 
drop stinging his scars. He put his head down, making sure that the tear was not
caught on camera. He had received the note almost a week ago, written in a shaky 
handwriting that he could barely recognize as Chris's. It had said "Kurt, life 
without you is not a life at all. I'm sorry. Chris" A silver ring, his ring that he
had given to Chris, was found with it. Chris would have never taken it off, so how
could they have gotten it unless... Could he have run away? Could he have gone and...
	No. Chris was alive. He knew Chris had to be alive. That faith, that hope was
the only thing was was keeping him going, that was keeping him alive. It was the only
thing that kept him enduring this hellish ordeal. But with each passing day, with
each raping, each flogging, Chris seemed farther and farther away. Faith was becoming
more and more difficult to uphold, to keep sacred. It seemed that the whole world was
falling away, piece by piece, being pulled down by his growing doubt. The places that
his heart has touched when he was with Chris were fading into forgotten dreams. 
	The concrete wall opened the small slice scars on his back as he slid down to
the floor as despair swept over his mind and soul. His broken tail took the full brunt
of his weight, white sheets of pain shrouding his eyes that refuse to undrape. He
resisted screaming, knowing it would only excite his "master" to another rape. 
Another rape... Blood still stained the floor as evidence of the morning's "service",
his arm still stinging from another injection of the drugs which staved off his death
by a day. 
	So many times he had simply wanted to spit in the wolf's face and let Death
come and take him, take him to Chris, but the hope that Chris was still alive, that
he could escape and be with him kept him in the all too painful land of the living.
His body had gotten weaker, his mind more shattered with each passing day, his heart
growing more heavy in his chest with every moment away from his love, but his soul 
remained strong. It refused to let him give up on his hope, his faith, his love. He
could simply tell, no, *sense* that Chris was alive, and that the bond between them
was as strong, if not stronger than ever. 
	He simply needed a sign, just one simple sign that Chris was alive to sate
the hunger of his doubt and bring back the strength in his body, the focus in his 
mind, and the fire in his heart. Just one simple...
	The arms of sleep wrapped about the broken foxwolf to take him away from his
pain for a few precious moments to sleep, perchance to dream.

				******************

	That night, the human and foxwolf dreamed...
	The dorm room was as disorganized as ever, but it's familiarity was a comfort,
but not as comforting as the embrace received shortly after. The human and foxwolf
wrapped arms, kissed, caressed for a moment, a second, an eternity, the cherished
warmth flowing about them as it sprung forth from their hearts, eyes locked, never
leaving. So many words to say, so many actions to take, but all was told, all was
done in a simple loving gaze. 
	The human felt himself being lifted to heaven by a seraphim with red fur
and golden eyes. His mouth uttered words that all languages could translate, three
simple syllables in his common tongue. The angel set him on his bed and nuzzled
his face, the sweet moistness of his nose prompting a short kiss as he nuzzled in
return. Paws from heaven pulled him to the angel's face, where a long kiss began,
where he found the edge of heaven. The arms set him gently on the bed once again,
gazing at him lovingly.
	The foxwolf felt himself holding an angel with dark brown hair and blue-grey
eyes. He nestled his head into the sacred chest before him, the same three words and
name being repeated again and again from his mouth. He kissed and wrapped his tongue
about the tongue of the angel, exchanging warm breath. He reached over to a vase and 
drew out a rose that had been placed there, smelling the deep scent before taking
the bloom of the flower to the angel's face, as if the petals of roses were the only
thing worthy of caressing such a heavenly face. The rose dragged about the face, 
eliciting words from the angel that only his heart could understand, and then went
to the chest, from one nub of flesh to the next, then dragging downward to the smooth
organ that awaited the rose below the waist. 
	The human moaned, feeling his love raise itself higher and higher, feeling
his angel caress him through the rose that moved about his chest and groin, the soft
petals brushing the sensitive skin there, bringing his arousal to the final stages.
He leaned forward and kissed his love, his eyes closed to let his senses better focus
on the bliss that flowed into him from the kiss, the warmth that flowed into him from
his angel's heart, the love that flowed into him from his seraph's soul. His lips
mouthed a silent request, which his angel gently nodded in reply to.
	The foxwolf felt the love in his heart spreading throughout his body, to his
eyes, to his ears, to his mind. He saw the want in his lover's eyes that looked into
his soul and saw what he wanted as well. His fingers set the rose on his love's chest,
then lightly dragged their way down, rubbing the sweet organ before making their way
around between his lover's cheeks, finding the pathway to heaven that join them once
again. His love soared as he found his way in, his body feeling as if it were floating
upward, his body reacting in the way necessary as his organ filled itself with his
tangible proof of his love.
	The human's mouth gaped open, his eyes closed tightly as he felt his lover's
organ sinking into his passage, the thick length of heavenly flesh pressing inch by
godly inch into him. The world faded away to darkness save candlelight, his body
melding, joining his love's at the hilt of his organ. Every flash of pleasure was 
shared, every rub, every bump within him was his love's to feel. He felt as if his own 
organ were his love's, his own angelhood slowly, rhythmicly pushing in and out of him,
his own sacs of seed covered in soft white fur churning, his own veined knot building
at the base of his angelhood trying to gain entry into him.
	The foxwolf felt his mind, his body merge with his lover as his maleness
found it's way through the gateway, into the tunnel that led to eternal love. He
felt his love's passage as if it were his own. He felt his canal to heaven being 
filled by his surging folfhood pushing further into him with every charge and 
retreat. He felt the knot trying to squeeze through the portal, a shared sensation
of pleasure and pain as the knot pushed it's way through, locking them together,
forever.
	The human and foxwolf joined, minds, hearts, bodies, and souls, pure love
flowing from the foxwolf into the human in movements of muscle tissue. Feeble words
spoke feelings already known in simultaneous action. The foxwolf and human felt as
one, then, brutally torn apart. One on a park bench living in a freedom of solitude,
the other locked in a small dank room of beaten security. The foxwolf fell forward as
the exhaustion hit full on, crushing the rose. The human cried out as a thorn sunk
into his chest. Sleep was snatched from their eyes in an instant, the dream dangled
away with it.

					**********

	The human awoke, cursing as Fate for such teasings when he noticed a pain in
his chest, and found a rose lying there, a thorn causing thick red blood to ebb from
him. A thorn that had been there when...

					**********

	The foxwolf became conscious, wanting to cry, but knew that would only attract
unwanted attention from hsi "master". Pain washed throughout his body from wounds and
scars that he easily recognized, save one. A fresh wound was on his chest, a dark
something sticking out. He pulled it out with a small wince and gazed upon it. A small
and blood stained thorn. A rose thorn, that had stuck him when he had fell upon...
	Doubt satisfied with the new evidence, his heart, mind, and body began the long
road back to recovery.

To be concluded...

1/27/99
12:37am
by Gwydion