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Regrowth

Humans. The foxes knew of them. Knew of their reputation. They were creatures unlike any others that they had seen in the woodland. Many bearing furs of bright colours and patterns not found in the natural world, and wielding, or sometimes lying in the bellies of vast, hard, sharp objects that roared and rumbled and belched foul smoke. They were big. They were dangerous. And more so than any other creature the foxes had ever encountered, humans scared them to their cores.

There were days when the vixen and dog fox lay in their den together, trembling, whimpering as they rocked and nipped at one another in the midst of their visceral, ceaseless pleasure, with dirt falling from the roof above across their prone, lust-stricken bodies. Days when the gift granted to them by the Naiad who dwelled in their sacred wood served merely to keep them sane, preventing their base instincts for fight or flight kicking in and sending them bolting from their burrows in terror, right into the the path of the machines that tore trees from the earth and churned up the soil in deep furrowed tracks as they rolled onward, not caring what animals they disturbed or dismembered along the way.

And when it was over... when the rumbling ceased, when the earth stopped quaking and crumbling around them, and the two foxes crawled with their bodies still entwined out of their ruined den, the dog and his vixen were left to bear witness to what remained of their once verdant, beautiful home. Smooth, sawn off stumps leading in all directions. Deep tracks of bare earth where the undergrowth had been torn away by tires and tracks, and such sparse cover that there was not a bird to be heard. Not a rabbit nor mouse rustling around amongst the leaf litter for food. Just a few carrion birds; jackdaws and crows, picking over the leavings of insects and the wildlife that had lost its life through trauma or simple fear as the humans tore their world asunder.

For the first time since their infinite longing and pleasure had overtaken them, the two foxes felt no joy. No pleasure. No happiness as they stared out at their broken, mutilated, lifeless world. The dog fox licked at the vixen's ear-tips not in intimate, adoring affection, but with mournful comfort as she whined in fright and sorrow. His hips barely twitched as his cock strained inside her, for while the physical act of his ceaseless orgasm may have been continuing unabated, the passion behind it... the life giving urge to share that constant, enthralling high with his mate, had been ground down to near nothing by the devastation resting before his eyes. These two creatures had lived long lives. Far longer than was natural for their kind. And with that long life came wisdom. And with that wisdom, the ability to understand. To comprehend. And to regret... and feel great, abiding loss.

Together, walking as had become natural to them; moving while the male's knotted cock held them against one another, the two foxes slunk through the broken remains of their home, in search of the glade. Their instincts told them to find it. To return back to the place where all of this had started for them. And sure enough, before long they were tumbling down a bank full of lush grass that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and soon were rolling through tree-cover that was not in the slightest bit harmed by the humans' great metal monstrosities. As far as they knew, no human had ever ventured here. No human could. It was protected; hidden from all but the truly wild and innocent, by its life-giver. Its protector.

They did not meet her by chance this time. The Naiad was there, standing in the stream where they had first encountered her, waiting for them. She was weeping; tears that shimmered with a rainbow of colour rolling down her bark-like skin, tumbling to her bountiful breasts and then dripping down into the gently babbling brook below. A tear for every leaf. A tear for every shoot and flower. A tear for every life disturbed or destroyed by the unnatural intervention into the lands under her protection. She couldn't save them, but at least she could mourn them.

And now... with the help of her envoys; those already charged with spreading the message of her fertile bounty to all the creatures of the woodland, she could rebuild. What had been destroyed could not be undone. What lives had been lost could not be restored. But new life... new life could always rise from the ashes of the old, and in doing so show the humans that had violated these sacred lands that no part of nature is unaccountable, not even those who attempt to rise above it.

The Naiad approached the vixen and the dog fox mounted astride her hindquarters. She knelt down at the water's edge, arms outstretched, and giggled softly as they shuffled forward, each nuzzling at one of her hands and whining happily at the softness and warmth of her touch. It seemed to reinvigorate them. To remind them why they were here; why they had been here on this earth for quite so long. They were symbols of all that was bountiful and fertile about nature. And it was not only their duty, but their privilege, to be able to share in delivering that message with visceral clarity.

It was then, just as the dog fox's hips were already beginning to quicken their pace, his knotted shaft straining more and more urgently within the vixen as his body ground and bucked urgently against her own, that she spoke. The Naiad addressed the foxes in a language that neither they nor any mortal creature on this earth could speak, and yet one whose meaning rang in their ears, their hearts, and throughout their bodies with crystal clarity. Her hands roamed more freely across the soft fur of their bodies, and teased gently with her wispy, leaf-like fingertips at the vixen's erect, swollen nipples, and the male's aching, rounded balls.

'Regrowth. Rebirth. You will revitalise our forest, and bring life to all that your essence touches. This, I promise. This gift, I grant you both, on behalf of all good and innocent creatures of this world.'

The foxes eyes widened as they felt something new. They had been cumming together, mating and climaxing and sharing in that constant surge of pleasure for countless years now. Centuries, perhaps even millennia. But this feeling... this surge. This intensity now burning within their small, rusty orange and white furred bodies, it was different. It was building. Rising. Carrying their minds to new levels of blissful delight, and their bodies towards something far beyond what they had already never even been remotely able to grow accustomed to, with regard to the sheer fury of its pleasure.

Yelping and panting, the vixen felt the knot of her mate's cock throbbing and pulsating as his heart raced and his body's weight lay heavily across her, hips a blur as he scrabbled at the grassy riverbank with his feet in his urge to breed her even faster. It was grinding up against that small but swollen nub lodged against the inner surface of her nether region's opening; her clitoris perfectly positioned to be stimulated by the knot, and now feeling suddenly ten... a hundred... a thousand times more receptive than the already orgasmic levels of rapture that had been poured into her through that tiny button of flesh since their marathon mating session began. She could feel her inner walls clenching; gripping at the dog fox's erect member as it drooled hot strands of cum into her innermost depths. But there was a new tightness being formed by that intensified stimulation. A new pressure building within her. And the more it built, the more it grew, the more certain the vixen became that whatever this feeling meant for her, it wouldn't be long before she was as unable to control it as she was to regulate the pleasure that was swelling in tandem with it.

It was the vixen's mate; the dog fox, who howled in joyous surprise as the vixen found herself unable to hold back any longer. He was the first to feel it; the flood of her juices, of her ejaculation squirting and splashing out across his crotch as it held itself unmoving, locked against her. He had no idea what it meant though. No idea of the significance of this particularly strong orgasm that the female was experiencing, beyond its role in driving him to a similarly intense, gloriously productive peak. Both the foxes yelped and snarled as they shared in the passion of their latest climax, feeling the male's cum filling up the vixen and soon beginning to drip, then spray out from around the tight seal of his knot within her at higher and higher pressures.

They knew these feelings. They had revelled in them for the vast majority of their greatly extended lives, and yet somehow they were entirely new; as shockingly intense and glorious to be experiencing as that very first day, when they had found themselves first compelled by the Naiad to breed... and breed, and breed without stopping. Only now, it wasn't just the breeding. It wasn't just their bodies locked together in a constant haze of lust and desire; of orgasm after orgasm after orgasm with brief bouts of constrained, knotted thrusting in between, accompanied by a few trickles of cum from bodies that could not keep up with the pace of the pleasure they were providing one another. Now their bodies_could_ keep up. They had been granted the capacity not only to keep up, in fact, but to exceed, and outmatch even their own infinitely orgasmic pace with regard to sheer productivity.

With eyes glazed and muzzles hanging wide open, stunned and gasping for air, the two foxes slumped to the ground. They writhed and shuddered against one another as the vixen rolled over onto her back, bringing her belly to belly with the dog fox lying with his full weight astride her. They licked sloppily at one another's faces, and whined in giddy amazement as they recognised that they were both feeling that same overwhelming surge of release. That_both_of them were unable to control it. Unable to hold back the floods of cum and feminine ejaculate pouring forth without pause or any sign of dwindling in volume.

Somehow, little by little, the pair began to move. To drag themselves away from the stream, and the Naiad's sacred clearing, leaving a thick, glistening trail of their combined juices behind them as yet more erupted from between their entwined figure in heated, visceral bursts. Their back legs scrabbled as they pushed themselves along, grinding and whimpering at their mate all the while. Their tails dripped and drooled with fluids, increasingly matted and soaked through much like a considerable proportion of the fur on their back halves. More than once their attempts at locomotion ceased entirely, and they were driven to such extremes of euphoria that for all their practice in handling such pleasure, all they could do was thrash and writhe against one another, squirting and yelping at the tops of their lungs.

As soon as they left the clearing and emerged out into the world beyond once more, the Naiad's plan, and her words to the feral foxes, became abundantly clear. Dragging himself upright, the dog fox mounted his mate in the traditional position, and as he wrapped his forelimbs around her middle and began to tremble as he held himself tight against her, he could not only feel his overflowing juices running down the insides of his legs and dripping off his footpaws to the forest's tire-torn earthen floor, but the tickling of grass against his pads. A yelping wail of ecstasy escaped the vixen, and as she sprayed a jet of her ejaculate several feet back behind her, hitting the stump of a recently felled tree, it was barely half a minute before green, flickering shade was covering the two previously sun-bathed foxes.

Their life-giving essence, supercharged by the Naiad's power, was not healing the damaged forest. It could not undo what had been done. But nature was resilient. Nature bounced back. And a the two foxes circled round, staring in shock up at the thick oak tree rising, growing, flourishing anew from that root-bearing stump, they howled in shared delight at the sight of the miracle that they were being allowed to perform.

Not a single thrust escaped the dog fox as he buried himself as deep as his hips could reach within his mate, and held himself there through pulse after volatile pulse of cum. His knot and her tightly clutching depths bound them together, and now that they were sealed in constant climax; unable to staunch the flood of their shared, hyper-fertile fluids, he was no longer driven by the instinctive urge to thrust and stimulate. Just to hold himself deep, deep inside, and deliver every drop of his seed into her body's embrace, no matter how over-saturated it might have already been.

Together, bound by their endless and flooding climax, the pair shuffled and stumbled their way to the crest of the hill upon which their forest home had stood for thousands of years. A hill now bare and exposed to the wind and the warmth of the sun with its tree canopy decimated, but from which new life was already springing as the foxes spread their shared juices out behind them. Upon reaching the top of the hill though, with a pathway of renewed growth springing up behind them at breakneck speeds, they fell still once more. They rocked and whined in delirious joy as they closed their eyes and revelled in the intensity of what they were channelling, and once more began to let time pass, and the world change around them.

Their cum puddled. It flooded outward from their point in the centre. It spread in all directions like a shallow lake; a swampy, glistening pool of white atop the hill's plateau. Every tree stump it touched, a larger, more beautifully lush tree sprang forth to replace the one that had been lost. Every scrap of bare earth was clad in lush grass, and soon overrun by shrubs, by wildflowers and mushrooms, all delectable feasts for any wildlife.

Whining and whimpering in elation as they fought to comprehend just what power they possessed; the connection between what their bodies were producing and what was happening to the world around them simple and obvious enough for even the most lust-stricken feral mind to get to grips with, the foxes didn't just breed. Didn't just stand there, trembling and clutching and squeezing at one another deep inside. They yelped with glee. They rolled over. They wrestled. They played in their sticky, slick white mess. Their beautiful fur grew matted and tangled by their shared cum; stained faster than they could hungrily, tenderly lick it from one another's panting, whimpering faces.

More time passed. More, and more. Still they came. Still the dog fox lay over his beloved bitch of a vixen, locked inside her, pressed, hips frozen deep within her, spilling spray after spray. Load after load as his cock twitched without respite. Still she howled as his knot throbbed against her clitoris, and her body let loose waves upon waves of ejaculate in hot, squirting torrents. The forest around them was so lush and thick, they could barely move within it. It held them in a tender embrace, hiding them from all who might disturb them, and preventing them from being distracted from one another by the wonders beyond.

A thick, white river flooded down from the top of that hill; to the town below, to the place from which the bulldozers and men with chainsaws had come in search of fresh logging opportunities. A town that had been long since abandoned; roads torn up, buildings smashed and crippled by vast, thick tree trunks bursting up through their foundations and spreading branches through walls like they were made from paper rather than concrete. A town locked in vines and bushes, through which wildlife dashed and darted, revelling in the abundance of... of_everything_ they needed. Food. Shelter. Security. And of course, companionship.

Two rabbits lowered their twitching noses to the white river, able to feel the grass growing beneath their feet as they drank. Their ears flicked upward, in surprise, but not fear. They glanced towards one another. It wasn't breeding season. And yet, suddenly, they were filled with oh so familiar urges. The need to reproduce. To breed. But... alongside those instincts that had carried on through myriad generations, something deeper too. A more advanced, and personal sort of feeling. A_want_, rather than the evolutionary imperative of a need.

The two bunnies leapt at one another, and feverishly began to mate. Close by, a stag was surrounded by the does of his harem, all of them bellowing and grunting pleadingly as he bred them one by one, never having known an urge like it, or having felt himself in such demand from all the females he protected at once. Songbirds fluttered and bucked against each other in trees and bushes. Badgers, weasels, otters and rodents of all kinds lay on the constantly growing, flourishing banks of the white river; paired off or even in groups, all locked in fevered reproductive union that had begun just after they had stopped to take a drink after gorging themselves on the bountiful food provided by this paradise.

Neither fox had any idea of the extent of their influence on the world as they shuddered and clutched at their mate, riding from orgasm to orgasm with shameless joy. They couldn't have known how far it had already spread, and how much further it would continue to flow as they rested in the constant embrace of pure pleasure and intense, endless release. But all the while, on some level, they could hear the Naiad's words to them reverberating through their sticky, cum-soaked, bliss-ridden bodies.

'Regrowth. Rebirth. You will revitalise our forest, and bring life to all that your essence touches...'

And thus, as they lay there amidst the lavish Eden of their own creation, paddling and rolling and whimpering so happily in their own liquid lust, they may not have known what they were doing... but on some level, they_hoped_ that one day the Naiad's forest might stretch across the entire world, so that she could wander freely amidst all nature's creatures, and grant them all the same glorious bounty with which they had been honoured.

By Jeeves