Rohtu and Riley Pt I

Author's note: Some of you who have read my work will not enjoy this story, and so first this warning. This piece contains furs, that it, the characters aren't humans. If that isn't your bag you won't find much joy here. This piece was heavily inspired by Deioth's story 'The story of Deioth'. If there is any merit in this it is from his wonderful sense of timing and description. I first penned the character Rohtu in his interactive (which is one of the best pieces of vore fiction around) and I felt such fascination to the big, lovable orca I wrote a story about him and some generic, inquisitive furs who enjoy being eaten. With that, enjoy the story, and give me any feedback you should wish to send me.



Rohtu and Riley.



It was late afternoon in the far reach of summer, when the leaves of the sun-dried forests start to waver in their overt hues and settle for lesser shades. It made a picturesque setting; the sleepy pine forest nestled in the bay, the two scraggly red-rock landmasses stretching out to the ocean for several hundred meters with a span of tranquil water between them, the glistening beach subtended between them was a splendid grey in the weakening sunlight.

The locals had been here for many generations, living inland on the outskirts of the forest. The splendour of the bay had always been left in its pristine glory; the only changes to ever affect the rugged coastline were those of the waves and wind, which weathered wearily away at the proud standing rock. Two young anthro males, old friends, were sitting on the beach after spending the day in the forest nearby. One was a wolf, the other a fox, both young and healthy in the prime of life. They each would be heading off in a few days to far flung places for their respective reasons, but for the remaining days of the dying vacation, they both agreed they would spend it here, at home.

The wolf, Riley, had kept his eyes on the ocean for every moment since they had broken through the forest and onto the beach, much to his companions bewilderment. They chatted and reminisced late into the afternoon, but the fox grew steadily aggravated, and finally had to inquire about his wolf friend’s offish behaviour.

“Riley, you haven’t taken your eyes off the water since we got here.” He paused, waiting for a reply, but his friend seemed to be thinking. “What’s up?” He pressed, this time eliciting a response.

“Uh..? What d’ya say Vik?” He replied with disinterest, still with his eyes out to the bay.

The brown fox sighed before steadily repeating himself, this time hoping to reach his lupine friend. “I said, ‘you haven’t taken your eyes off the water since we got here’, to which you replied with ‘Uh’, which didn’t serve as a particularly fulfilling explanation” Again, it took a few moments for the words to sink in, but just before the moment of being rude the wolf carefully replied.

“What?” tilting his head to his friend with one eye on him and the other still scanning the still water.

Irate, the fox stood up and sat in front of his friend in direct line of sight. “I could repeat myself, but I fear it would fall deaf ears again.” The hint of disappointment rang out loudly in the wolf’s mind, clashing with the deep serenity of the grey sand beach. He seemed to awake from a dream.

“Sorry Varik” with a tone of formal condolence in his voice. “I’ve just been trying to find something some guy at college told me about before I left for vacation.” The inquisitive fox perked up immediately. If there was some mystery he couldn’t stand to be out on it, and so made other people’s problems his problems too. Some said it was because he was nosey, some said it was because he was inquisitive, but he just said it was because it’s always a fox’s business to know what’s going on.

“What? Here?” He tried, desperate for information.

“Yes, here. Odd really, you think we would know our home better than some drunken guy at the student union bar. But you know, I’m the adventurous type, I gotta’ see if there’s some truth in it.” His hazel eyes were now on his friend and they glittered with excitement. Vik had seen this before, it normally lead to trouble.

“What on earth could get you this worked out about this place? We already looked for pirate treasure and all that jazz and when we were young, and unless I recall incorrectly, were mostly just tales to stop us going out of the village.”

“You really wanna’ know?” The lean wolf teased, letting a sly smile spread across his thin lips.

“Yeah, you know I wanna’ know” The fox replied in a similar tone.

“I know you wanna’ know, but I know you’re not gonna’ believe it, so I might as well not waste my breath.” Riley’s smile got bigger as his friend’s temper started to fray.

“You know I wanna’ know but know I won’t believe it? How do you know that I won’t know already what you know I might not know to believe in?”

The wolf was having problems following his eloquent friend, and so after a long silence finally decided on saying: “What?”

“What…,” The fox began slowly, “I think you were going to tell me, was what you are looking for.” There was an apprehensive quiet, the wolf was reluctant to divulge his story but knew he wouldn’t hold out against his nosey friend.

“Well I’m not going to!” The wolf stuck out his tongue before he leapt to his paws and took off down the beach, sand spraying up behind his heels as he sped from the fox, who quickly gave chase. It wasn’t long before the pursuit was over with a well placed tackle, the two forms rolling over in the sand with their momentum, ending with Riley pinned beneath his quicker companion.

“I think you will” The fox slyly spoke, muzzles nearly touching. A burst of strength from the wolf had the fox now on his back against the sand.

“I think I wont” Riley smiled between his closed teeth, restraining the fox as best he could. The two rolled about as the sun began to fade away, bickering and wresting, before finally both ended on their backs, side by side, eyes to the sky and panting. A great time passed before either spoke once again.

“So you want to know? Even if you don’t like it?”

“Yeah, and I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

“I’ll make you a deal.” The wolf got up and walked over to his satchel, rustling around before pulling out a slip of paper. “This is the password to my computer, as well as a few directories of interest. If you really want to know, go check that out and I’ll be here when you get back, should only take you 15 minutes tops to get back here. Of course, if you’re scared…” The wolf made a mocking tone, dangling the little scrap of paper so it lightly brushed against the fox’s tender nose.

Vik snatched at it. “Why on earth would I be scared?” He took a breath to say something else but checked himself, and instead just smirked.

“Let’s see if you feel that way when you get back eh?” The fox turned as Riley spoke and began towards the wood. “Whatever Riley!” Vik shouted back.

After waiting a few moments the wolf sighed in relief. “At last…” He turned to the tide and began walking into the ocean, the golden glare of the sun spilling onto the sea like ribbons of bright silk as it glided unnoticeably under the horizon. From the shadows of the leafy trees Vik watched as his friend’s tail swished back and forth behind him as he swam out, his figure cascading into the waves before steadily merging into a blur.

---


The cave echoed with an explosive noise as the orca leaped from the pool and onto the red rock floor in one swift and elegant motion, landing on all fours with it’s tail jutting out before righting itself onto it’s two sturdy legs. Its jet back skin shimmered in the amber light of a nearby plinth, while it’s white abdomen and inner thighs seemed to glow more than sparkle. Water trickled over its muscled body, from head to toe tips some eleven feet down, making dull slapping sounds as he walked over to one of the pan fires that burned and hissed, illuminating the hollow. The cavern was bare, except for the few fires and a pile of linen which the creature would use to sleep upon. The only other object of note was the overflowing chest of gold and jewels that spilled from its lid at the back of the cave as an overstuffed game bird. Other than that and its occupant the cave was empty.

Though there was an intruder, too. The orca could feel the faint furry footfalls of a bipedal somewhere down in the twisting labyrinth of tunnels through the eroded cliff. Aside from the water filled tunnel that connected to the bay, the only other entrance to the Orca’s den was through those passageways which stood dark and foreboding at the rear of the cave. The orca had never fully explored them, but knew there were treasures scattered throughout which often led foolhardy adventurers unwillingly into his clutches. Some would flee at the sight of the orca, others would aim their guns, and, once in a while, some would come in for something else entirely.

For Rohtu wasn’t an ordinary orca; aside from the fact he was monstrously large and an anthro, but the fact he was just as capable as thought as the wolf who was trudging boldly through the maze of dripping tunnels. He lived a simple life in the tranquil waters around the bay, returning to the cave once or twice every week to feel the land on his feet, something he particularly enjoyed after some days in the near weightlessness of the water. He preferred a solitary life, but after the many years he had came to enjoy the occasional encounter with the furs and humans who wandered down to his abode. Whether it was saying a few words or beating them to a bloodied pulp (which rarely happened anymore, that was back when people knew about the treasure down there) it was never the same person twice.

He could feel the stranger winding his way down towards the only beacon of light in the whole complex as if drawn to it like a lighthouse. Feeling in a somewhat social mood, Rohtu decided to hang around in the little cave, waiting for his visitor to arrive

---


Riley had found a hollow in the towering rock face as he was swimming in the shadow it created, hiding the sun’s fading azure glow. He hoisted himself onto the slippery outcrop, fur dripping and starting to feel the first bite of night’s cold. The surge of the sea echoed through the hollow darkness, whistling bitter, salty air around the sopping wolf. With his heart filled with adventure he headed into the darkness. It was slow going; unable to see the layout around him, but the caverns seemed to be worn, as if this path had been taken several times before. He would slip on the damp rocks and fall to his paws, cutting himself on the sharp debris that lined the narrow passageway. After some minutes of stumbling he came to a junction, one which seemed to lead up, one down. Thinking his goal would be more likely to be at the water’s edge, he headed down, deeper into the whistling caverns.

He wandered through the chilly depths unable to find anything of promise. His sense of endeavour began to waver, replaced by a disappointment, and then the desolate isolation began to set in. With darkness as his only companion he thought about heading back, but as he turned he realised in the darkened labyrinth to go back would be the same as to go forward. He was lost and alone; he knew what he had done was stupid. A dull panic began to well inside him, surging like the tide that pounded onto the great rock above him, hushed and damped. He had to get out soon, get to the surface before it was too late.

Time was stretching out proportion in the featureless void. Twinges of fatigue and thirst began to crept through the young wolf’s mind as his aching body was assaulted by the encompassing nothingness. He feared he would never find a way out, that he would simply collapse, cold and alone in the quiet and still emptiness. Perhaps he had been down here for hours, days even, and despite his athletic form, the sudden drop in temperature so far under the earth combined with salty air strangling him with thirst had quickly worn the wolf down. He slumped down , back against the wall and tail moping to his side as he paused for perhaps some burst of courage that had carried him innumerable times before; but nothing came, he felt as hopeless as the inky black that swirled before him. His fear and panic began to melt into a thick, paralysing calm, embracing him, enticing him into a trance. He didn’t notice his eyes closing, for he was becoming numb in the acerbic night’s chill. The shrill whistling in the darkness soon faded out as the biting cold on his ear tips dulled: the wolf was sleeping deeply.

---

Riley’s eyes creaked open for a few moments before giving up and abruptly closing.

His eyes opened again, some time later, but soon found the effort strenuous and surrendered once more.

The next time he opened his eyes they were flooded by shimmering amber light – his eyelids winced shut in discomfort. He was thinking now, that was good. The dancing light burned heavily on his retina, illuminating the darkness of his closed eyes an inky yellow. Sound began to register, as if through an old gramophone, slowly getting louder until it was equally as oppressive as the light. Much to the awaking wolf’s surprise his throat was no longer rasping, and even greater a surprise, he wasn’t dead.

Not yet anyway, but to be fair he hadn’t yet had the chance to scope his environment, too busy collecting his wits and cowering from the sensual overload his brief slumber had invoked. He was laying on something soft, linen or wool, and pleasant warmth was seeping over him. The image of a waking on a Saturday morning in bed after a fitful sleep began to coalesce in his mind. Perhaps this had all been some crazy dream. He began to wonder what to have for breakfast, what time to call Vik, when he’d have to get started on that report. Yes, this was nice, but he’d have to open his eyes eventually. In his head he counted; one…two…three-

The near instantaneous burst of light faded like that after a photo flash, letting Riley take a glimpse of his predicament, the images forming like a series of Polaroid pictures. A cave… rocks… fires…pools, countless nouns sprung to mind which failed to achieve significance or partnerships in his confusion, but slowly things began to clarify. He went to rub his eyes but his limbs ached with a dull apathy seemingly screaming to be oiled at the hinges, not in pain, just discomfort. This was definitely not his bedroom.

The cave was empty save the lone wolf, several plinth fires lined the walls which nucleated around a central pool of deep navy blue water in a horseshoe shape, on which one of the sides by the front wall was where the pile of cloth was, and upon it Riley. The back of the horseshoe sloped backwards, poorly lit and less expansive, but much of his view was blocked by the many stalactites and stalagmites that littered the cavern. The place had an eerie serenity he couldn’t place his paw on, and now his awareness was in full flow he was picking up the faint howls of wind from the darkness and the oddly intriguing scent of fish. His stomach rumbled.

There was a sense the cave was alive and watching him, whether the writhing patterns on the pocked rock face were causing this or perhaps some astral force he didn’t know, but the burning, crawling sensation on his back was becoming stronger. He rubbed it to make sure nothing was in fact on his back; finding nothing there offered no comfort. The drafts from the cavern depths were taking on a pattern of slow, baited breaths. The roaring flames were growing louder, their dancing patterns spelling out obscene pictures on the wall, primal and exotic. The wolf felt he was falling again into some abyss, but not of sleep but of alarm. He fell from the bed cloths and onto the gritty floor which heaved and bucked beneath him. He was becoming nauseous and disorientated. The deep water pool seemed to shine a deeper, darker blue than before, a beacon of clarity. He stumble on all fours towards it while his world flowed around him, twirling and mixing, every sound and every texture blending into a bizarre nightmarish landscape. He made it to the pool before falling flat on his belly, panting. He took his paws to the cool water and splashed it to his face, inches above the surface.

He yipped as the freezing water blasted his senses. It dripped off his muzzle, and a moment later, everything was back in order.

The wolf sighed in relief from escaping the momentary phantasm. He opened his eyes and stared into the tranquil depths of the pool. He saw his grizzled reflection, but his eyes had a somewhat deeper dimension. He stared into them, trying to recall what his eyes looked like but only found what he was now seeing – he could have sworn his eyes were brown. It took a drop of water to ripple the surface that fell from his brow to shatter the illusion. As his reflection disintegrated and distorted, the eyes beneath the surface remained perfectly clear, set hauntingly still in the darkness. The realisation hit Riley like a truck.

It wasn’t so much the realisation, but a swift movement of the creature flinging its colossal mass out of the water and onto the shore that almost hit him, had it not been for his reflexes catapulting him back to the wall. The behemoth shuddered as it uncurled itself from its landing position flicking water onto the recoiling wolf. The orca stood on its mighty legs, jet black to the inner thighs where they cut to creamy white, which continued over the creatures smooth exposed balls and over its defined six-pack abdomen and broad chest contained in the shimmering black border. The creature’s arms were all black, from shoulders down to fingered hands, muscled all the way. On top of it all, some 2 and a half metres tall, sat the proud beak, solid black punctured only by two gleaming blue irised eyes.

The wolf sat mesmerised, still instinctively pressed against the firm certainty of the wall, watching in admiration as the orca swung its hefty tail behind it, catching glimpses of its creamy white underside. He glanced over the creature before him, feasting on each perfectly crafted aspect of its body unable to determine which to settle on and give some more thorough inspection. This all came to a calamitous halt as the two pairs of eyes met; and for that moment the world stood still.

The tension was electrifying. Riley could hear his blood pounding through his ears like traffic. His breathing became shallow and laboured. His eyes couldn’t tear themselves from the mystery an intrigue that flooded the orca’s. The wolf could feel the tingle in his loins for the first time, building like the temperature on his brow. The orca took a step forward causing a dull soft thud that travelled along the rock and reverberated subtly along the wolf’s spine, who could only mutter under his breath how powerful the sea creature was, and even quieter how much it thrilled him.

“You’re very lucky you’re alive, little wolf.” The orca spoke with clarity and a smooth accent that entered the mind like fresh spring water, invigorating and clean. It was deep, afforded by the cavernous chest cavity that housed the necessary equipment, and was distinct in the way this voice would start and stop, no range of volumes; just the continual clear and assuring amplitude from start to finish. The wolf said nothing; not in fear but in obedience, for it was certain the orca had not finished in the way his eyes seemed to slant on the word wolf like a derogatory address, and Riley had no intention of stifling the Adonis’ train of thought.

“Had I not found you when I did there is no doubt that you wouldn’t be talking to me now.” The wolf nodded as the orca seemed to hang on this point. “What I mean to say is that you were almost certainly not going to wake up.” The orca looked deep into the wolf, expecting him to start explaining himself but could only see the young one’s fascination. He stepped towards Riley again and knelt down to him, his massive frame eclipsing most of the light from the wolf now practically pinned to the wall. The wolf could feel the gentle warmth radiating from the smooth skin and mounds of muscle. He was staring at the centre of it’s wide chest which divided perfectly into two well defined slabs of meat the size of saucepans each. With the basking warmth came the aroma of the sea; accompanied with the wholly new scent of cetacid musk. It clambered around inside the wolf’s head as it poured into his nostrils, flaring in eagerness. He wanted so much to fall onto it’s chest and be held tightly to that smooth flesh.

“Though whether that is a good thing is up to you, little wolf.” The orca grabbed Riley’s lower jaw and pulled his gaze upwards so they were again matching. The wolf’s heart fluttered as the orca leaned his rounded beak down only inches from his snout: Riley could feel the warm air flowing out of the creature’s thin nostrils it was so close. “I…” The orca spoke, opening his jaw right in front of the wolf giving him a tantalising view of the delicate, dripping depths inside, “…am Rohtu.” The orca paused, again waiting for the wolf to say something hoping it wasn’t feral. “You are?”

The wolf didn’t say anything. His lips quivered while his chest felt like it would collapse at any moment. From the haunting calls of the wind in the caverns arose the sound of the orca’s breathing - slow, steady funnels of air, softly whistling through his nostrils, swirling inside the great lungs. The sound soothed Riley at first, but quickly felt something urgent – the orca had just asked him his name and he has ignored him. Oh god, the wolf panicked, quick, answer… “Er, Riley.” He gasped “Pleased to eat y- oh, I mean erm…erh… meet you.” As he slipped his voice arced up a couple of octaves making him blush under his silver fur, but he knew the orca could see it. He knew Rohtu could see it, he corrected himself.

“Ok Riley, how about we get better acquainted?” Rohtu didn’t wait this time, even though the wolf was on the edge of saying “I would like that”, for he only got as far as “I would -” before the orca’s flat, purple tongue had swiped across his face in a slow, sensual manner. Once the tongue withdrew the wolf went to instinctively wipe his eyes and nose clear of the thick saliva. He stared intently at his paw as he rubbed it between his fingertips, enthralled by its viscosity and texture. Without looking he was again assaulted by the heavy, dull tongue, slapping wetly against his cheeks and dragging across the short, velvety fur in the wrong direction, making it stick up. He got a tantalising close up of the salivating orca’s maw: the rows of flat broad teeth at the back led up to sharper canines at the front, an off white colour and faintly eroded in age; the uvula hung at the back of the throat where light started to get sucked down into the steamy depths of the oesophagus, mottled in deep purple and luscious red; the back of the writhing tongue which soaked in the ample pools of saliva that dribbled out over Rohtu’s jaw and into the wolf’s pulsing lap. The tongue cupped underneath his muzzle and drew it into the dripping cavern, his long snout fitting snugly in the u-shaped cusp. Riley’s eyes gazed in bewilderment at those of the dominant male over the crest of its upper jaw, his heart fluttering as the orca began to suck slowly around its thin, taut lips.

Placing his paws against the damp chest of the looming creature, Riley pushed his head out of the slimy embrace, the tip of his nose and chin dripping gooey strands of errant spittle. He spluttered a little, still pressed imposingly between Rohtu’s warm chest and the cavern wall. Feeling the toned pectoral muscles flex under his furry grip, he quickly withdrew as if the orca were warning him not to touch, and instead set his paws about wiping the mess from his face.

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you.” The orca’s voice commanded, the wolf slowly stopped clutching at his soaked facial fur and was left peering up at the behemoth in silence. “I assure you, you’ll need a whole lot more to fit into my gut.”

Riley gasped sharply. Did he just say that? His eyes darted to the ridges of smooth abdominal muscle that shielded the massive creature’s tight stomach and then back up to those opal eyes. There was a terrifying grin on the orca’s beak, his face scrunched slightly in a mischievous malevolence as he watched the trapped wolf begin to panic. “What? I don… don’t think I…I…” Riley stuttered.

“You understand perfectly little wolf.” The orca pressed the tip of his muzzle against that of the wolf’s. “Don’t you now?”

Riley was lost for words. This couldn’t be real. Never did he think the story would be true, and now here it is. His heart fluttered. The beast was going to eat him. He had wanted this for so long, but now… now. Not now he thought, he had so much to live for, so much to do. He could see his life opening up before him, countless avenues, countless faces, and then all he saw was a rounded bulge, leathery skin stretched taut and sagging, gurgling, and he knew this would be his only future, stewing slowly in the orca’s tight stomach.

Not now… anything but this. Not like this… The orca opened his jaws slowly, spreading before the wolf’s trembling nose, tendrils of spittle arcing from the roof to the twitching table of the tongue. A wall of hot, wet air blasted into Riley’s face. “No! Wait!” he begged, his voice distorted as if speaking into a beaker. “I don’t want to die!” He heard Rohtu chuckle softly before the large, slimy tongue began to rise. It slathered the wolf’s cheek, licking lazily across his nostrils and onto the other side, slapping against him tenderly. It began to reach back, up past his eyes and toward his ears. The tips of the mighty jaws began to edge over the wolf’s muzzle: the start of the ingestion. As the tongue curled around the perked ear tips, matting them down with thick dollops of drool, Riley’s face had entered the maw, his chin resting on the base of the adept tongue. He whimpered as he watched the tip of the orca’s beak slide gently over his field of vision, replaced with a row of gruesome teeth then a dripping cavern of writhing flesh. While his ears and the back of his head were given a thorough licking, torrents of dribble washed over his eyes and nostrils, and despite his attempts he couldn’t work the foul smelling liquid from them. The tongue started to return, drawing the wolf’s head entirely inside the large predator. The canines slipped behind his ears, the molars clamped at either side of his muzzle and the sharp incisors rested perilously on either side of his neck. His nose had been pressed under the dripping uvula, displacing it to one side as his muzzle sat on the brink of the tight, constricting passageway to the grumbling stomach. The orca kept him like this, allowing him to share his heavy, fish laced breath, letting him soak in his gooey saliva and most importantly, keep him worrying about that final, ultimate drop.

The wolf tried to pull out, but the maw was firmly closed around him. He raised his arms to the long, smooth beak, now speckled with slime, and tried to pry the jaws open feebly. His attempts only served to amuse his dominator. He ran his hands long the length of the creature’s muzzle, feeling the outside of his humid prison. It was a strange sensation: the firm, hard jawbones and soft latex like skin separated his hands from his head; he could understand the exact shape and size of the maw he was encased in, and subsequently his size relative to the imposing orca’s.

He twisted and turned, causing thick squelches in the soft flesh and ample lubrication. The orca responded by sucking lightly on his meal, slopping waves of spit onto the poor wolf and pressing him into folds of intimate muscle. He pounded with his fists onto the bare chest, hearing his pathetic blows echo up the throat, hardly disturbing the beast’s breathing. As Rohtu’s continual suckling had drawn Riley up to his shoulders, now he could see faintly down into the tight, flexing tube of muscle. No… He saw himself as a bulge again, this time being slowly squeezed down that tube, immobilised, half in the belly, squirming for air, almost tearing the skin of the orca’s neck as he ate something half his own size. No… Surely he wouldn’t fit… he wouldn’t fit…

“I won’t fit!” He yelled as loud as he could, unable to open his mouth much in the confines of the orca’s jaw. The suckling stopped. Perhaps this would be the first swallow, his first step on the journey to being food. He whimpered, waiting for the tug. Instead, the jaws opened. The wolf yanked his head out of the slimy embrace spluttering, saliva coating his head like honey and soaking his chest where the colossus had dribbled over the fine, young meal.