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Lomidepuzlo - November

Lolo could really never turn down an opportunity like this. Out in the warmth of the sun, the pleasant touch of the midmorning breeze running across bare skin, he was already enjoying what was given to him... so when he opened his eyes from his dozing to see Melody striding confidently, comfortably towards him, all he had to do was sit up a little straighter and smile her way.

She smiled back, as always, and then also as always, once the hare closed the distance to him she smirked, turned her head, then turned fully around, and leaned over. Immediately attentive, Lolo sat up and licked his lips, though just as quickly felt himself pressed back down beneath that descending rump, soft and warm and hefty. He reached up with first one hand and then the other, pressing his fingers into that pleasant, plump flesh, squishing in so that fur and thick folds of skin wrapped around and between them, then tugged up and out.

For a moment he just lay there looking, watching the way that the hare's little puffball tail twitched and flicked, and how those little movements tugged back at the wrinkled pucker just below, shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat in the warmth of the day. Gently, carefully, he let one finger come in to touch at that tight rim, then circle around and tease in at the center; above him Melody gasped, then giggled, then tightened, then tightened again.

"Oh," she murmured, voice tense, "stop, you'll - make me-"

Lolo leaned to the side. "Make you what? Surely you didn't come here like this thinking, 'oh, nothing is going to happen'?" While he spoke he sat up a little closer, then mooshed his face against the side of her rump; when finished he licked his lips, placed a little smooch there, then nipped the soft flesh between his teeth and pulled, just enough for it to tug and stretch and then jiggle back into place.

"Of course I knew something would happen. Why do you think I came here? I just..." The hare adjusted her posture, one paw reaching back to spread her rump from the other side while the other pushed in at her belly. "I have to pee. Like, really bad."

Just the sound of the words sent a little glimmer of enticement through Lolo's body. Gradually he lay back down again, though kept himself propped up on his elbows. He squirmed, spread his legs, couldn't resist a little upwards thrust from the hips, watched as just that first little suggestion sent a noticeable twitch and throb through him.

"Well," he breathed, "don't let me stop you."

"Who, me? Who do you think I am? Let me, just..." Making quite a show of it, Melody then began to sit back atop him, bending over at the waist first now with both paws reaching back to spread herself. Closer and closer she worked towards Lolo's face, until he had no choice but to turn his head to the side while she pressed herself in and then lowered down, the weight of her body transferring against him there, pushing him back, then down, then settling in. "Get into a more comfortable position here..."

So he wrapped his arms up around her plush thighs, spreading them atop his chest while he worked his muzzle into place there beneath her pert tail. A little inhalation, a gentle kiss to puckered tailhole lips, a quick flick of the tongue across that central wrinkle; above him Melody gasped and tightened again, then again, gently pressing herself back against him.

"Hey-" she murmured. If she was pushing back against him to try to get him to stop, it wasn't working. "Look, I'm gonna have to focus if I'm-"

"What?" Lolo brought his hands back up, squeezing them up along her rump to tug her tailhole gently apart against his exploring nose and lips. The skin tightened and pulled, inner pucker pulling towards the motion, showing a slight splash of the richer, darker glistening red inside - then again clenched and squeezed shut, ring of muscle pulling back against him. "Do what?"

"If I'm-"

He wiggled his face into the revealed space, once more sealed his lips around that tailhole, then returned his hands to their original position along her thighs where he held her down against him. Before long Melody's paws came down to brace against his chest as well, the hare grinding herself forward and back atop him; she swallowed, and shuddered, and tightened up again, and then...

Then the warmth that trickled along his body centered and focused right there at Lolo's chest, and quickly spread from there. Forward and down, coursing over his sides and then down across his body, pooling in the slight slump of his belly, stirring around his now fully hard shaft where it twitched; each throb caused it to bounce up and then splash back down into that puddle of rich liquid heat.

He could feel the little tremors and ripples through her tailhole and rump squeezing against his face as she continued to empty herself out. The longer she went on, the further back she leaned; one paw came down to spread herself between her fingers, arcing her stream up and out until Lolo felt it splash across the underside of his shaft, then down along his balls as well. So he continued slurping and sucking and gently nipping here at her rim, tongue curling up, swirling around... and she kept on going, already past what he had expected from her.

The pool along his body and underneath him had just continued to expand, her stream bouncing between a steady flow and then spraying and sputtering out based on how she moved her paw. Every now and then the hare let out a little sigh of relief and pleasure; now she leaned forward a bit, focusing her mark there against his chest; now she leaned back a bit further, one paw coming back to press his face under her tail again; and now she lifted herself up entirely, peering down at him between her spread legs while she still let loose like a focused waterfall down against his chest.

His eyes met hers; she grinned, set her jaw, squeezed, sprayed a little harder down across him, then relaxed, and still it kept on going. Lolo sighed and slid down further into her aim.

"How much-?" he began, then trailed off. The warmth, the scent, the arousal, flooded over him.

Melody swung her hips side to side to coat him more thoroughly. "Well, let's find out."

Peegus - November

Kopa groaned, squirming where he lay, and ended up knocking his head against the foot of the shelf again. Tall ears flicked with annoyance now here, then just as quickly gone beneath the sweet sensation and pleasure of the rest of his situation, loose clothes draped open along his arms, his chest, his hips. He could feel the material shifting along his body with the movement of the serval atop him, one paw pressing down into the base fur of his chest while the other reached back behind herself, keeping him angled up into her, holding him there, squeezing at the base of his shaft when she pushed down, held in place, rose up, then pushed down again, and again, and...

And the serval glanced over her shoulder, worry briefly showing along her muzzle. "Shh," she hissed. "We're not _alone,_you know. You're making too much noise."

"Well, you're just - moving too much, and-"

"And what am I supposed to do?" That paw on his belly tightened in, claws pricking gently into soft skin through his fur, and with that leverage Mo pushed herself back down against him. Kopa's eyes rolled back and he felt his throat tighten; he tried to lift up into her again, to bury himself even deeper within that delicious slick heat, but in the space right there she wrapped her ankles down underneath his lifted thighs and squeezed to effectively lock him in place. "Stop moving? What, maybe I could..."

Back that other paw went, grazing gently along the base of his shaft and then down a little bit further. At first the leopard kicked with the tickle of deft fingers playing along his sack, stirring through the fur and wrapping underneath, but then the sensation really settled in and he found himself curling his toes, sucking in a breath, and then letting it right back out with another shivering sigh.

"Oh," he breathed, and swallowed. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, do... do that, I..."

But he trailed off. Whether Mo gave him some strange look or another, he couldn't tell, for the way his head had rolled to the side and his eyes fluttered shut. The way she played her fingers around behind his balls, how she gently squeezed them up between her palm and her thumb, rolled them around, then let them sag back out; the little squeeze and tug around the loose, supple skin, then coming up to the base around which she hooked her forefinger and thumb, and squeezed, and pulled, until both held cupped against her palm; then she squeezed again, angled her paw, and released her grip, so that Kopa felt their weight bounce back down against his tailhole.

Then she did so again, and again, each time coming from a different angle, pulling a little harder, squeezing a bit more softly, turning him over and around and back and forth. Leopard's claws dug into the soft flesh of serval's thighs; he repeatedly halfway lifted a leg, braced a footpaw against the floor of the library's back room here, then felt the tension slip out. When he could finally open his eyes he looked up to see Mo sitting back atop him, the sensation of their locked embrace still fizzling beneath her blush and the way she bit her lower lip - but satisfaction and amusement glimmered there too.

She shifted her position a bit, shoulder lifting up towards her chin as she reached back, then again spread her fingers down across the front of Kopa's sack. The leopard shivered again, loving the feeling of the tug there: as Mo pushed down against him he felt himself slip a fraction of an inch back down out of her, not enough to actually move but still so that he could _feel_it. Sticky slickness dripped down around the base of his balls there, Mo keeping them hanging away from his body over two fingers while the other two gently, carefully bounced them.

"Oh." She wriggled her hips, looked down behind herself, then readjusted once more to settle her hips into his lap. "Look at that. They're moving."

"Yeah, they - do that-"

"I bet..." Now those fingers wrapped around the base again, first one and her thumb, then a second, then a third... "I could fit both into my mouth. One for sure. Maybe both. Probably both."

"You wanna find out?"

"Yes." The fourth finger just couldn't manage to squeeze into place there. Kopa gritted his teeth against the tightness and pressure, then again shivered when she gave a tug with both his balls pressed in place there, firm and tight. "Not right now, though. Maybe find me tomorrow."

"Maybe-" Kopa's claws dug a bit more firmly into the serval's thighs, the pressure continuing to roil inside of him. It was all he could do not to hold her in place there and pound up into her, but truthfully he couldn't really move much with the way she had his legs locked. "-we meet at the bathhouse again, where the water's nice and warm, and..."

"And I try to gargle you like saltwater in a sore throat?" One finger released, lightening some of the pressure against him, and then Mo turned her paw, twisting his sack gently first one way and then the other. Then she released his balls again so that they bumped against his tailhole, then gave them a stir and brush, then bounced them again, and again. "Or we could-"

Every time she touched him Kopa felt that fuse burn a little bit shorter, a little bit brighter, until his toeclaws scraped along the stones of the library floor, his head bumped again on the foot of the shelf, and his heart seemed to double in a few seconds - and then he jerked, and jerked again, and jerked again, each powerful throb pulling his balls tighter up against her fingers. The second one curled away beneath the extra pressure, and then the first one did the same as well; purring softly, Mo wrapped him up in her palm and squeezed and rubbed and massaged, riding him through the rest of his finish.

Panting, thoughts swimming, side of his head aching from where he'd knocked it, Kopa finally looked up at her again. Still she played with his balls in one paw, though now much more gently and idly.

"You didn't hear a word of what I said, did you?"

Kopa tried to speak, had to clear his throat, then tried again. "Hey, we-"

"-were loud. Come on. We've gotta go."

"Are you sure you're-"

"Who cares?" Mo pressed her paws against his chest and started to pull herself up. "Won't be the first time I've gone back to work while full of you."

Forth - November

Sverre sighed and sat up where they were, the red panda already able to feel yet another set of eyes on them. That was the thing about being put on display like this: it was quite at hot at first, getting strung up completely naked for anyone and everyone to see, but the novelty had worn off rather quickly after all those visitors discovered just what they could, and in fact were expected, to do with them. Sure enough, as the red panda came up again they saw another pair of fairgoers eyeing them from afar and making no effort to hide how their gazes swung up and down across the red panda's entire body.

So, to indulge them, the prisoner here stood up, held their arms, and made a show of thrusting their bare hips forward, just so that everything down there bounced and jiggled in what they hoped was an obscene way. And it worked: one of the pair covered their mouth with a paw as a blush started to warm their cheeks, while the other quickly looked away. In another moment they were gone, leaving Sverre to walk back along the range allowed to them through the collar at their neck and waist. They had been quite the popular attraction here at the fair earlier, gathering a wide circle of an audience laughing and jeering and poking and prodding, seeing what they could do.

And, yeah, some of the arousal and enticement was still there. It was embarrassing, but that was how it was. Already Sverre had a good idea of what that sign stuck into the ground just out of range said, something like - have fun with the prisoner, they can't resist and don't want to anyway, feel free to touch and grope, et cetera, et cetera. Hell, even now while they grumbled about their situation while simultaneously trying to hide the little stir in their sheath from the unwarranted attention, another _individual_strode up, all confidence and self-assured glamour.

A horse. Of course it was a horse. Mostly brown pelt, but Sverre didn't really know the different breeds and couldn't care to learn. They - he, it looked like, but Sverre tried not to assume - strode up, stopped at the sign, braced their hands on their hips while they looked it over, then glanced up and waited until the red panda met their gaze. It took only about a quarter of a second, as Sverre found it to be much more fun to directly challenge whoever wanted to harass them: it generally made them think twice and weakened their resolve, while at the same time making it a little bit more enticing for Sverre.

What could they say? They liked putting up a fight. And they liked it when their opponent fought back. So of course the first thing they did as the horse approached was put their paws on their waist, deliberately drawing attention to their nudity, and stand with legs apart in what they hoped was a challenge. It could be so hard to tell sometimes.

"Yeah," they said, having to crane their head back to maintain eye contact. "And what is it you want? Wanna see me as one of your own? Want to turn me into a little prancing pony so you can rail me senseless out here in the middle of the fair? 'Cause, boy oh boy, it wouldn't be the first time today."

The horse raised his eyebrows. "You can do that?"

"No. You can do that. You can read, can't you?"

"So what do I?"

"You did read the sign? You-"

A huge, strong hand came out and lifted up underneath the red panda's chin, fingers pressing into the sides of his throat and, for a moment, tightening the pressure through his veins. They felt themselves lift up onto their tiptoes and then settle back down, and their ears perked forward and heard-

"Shut up. Stop talking."

-and then they could speak no more. Try as they might, no sound issued from the red panda's throat past a puff of breath; frustrated, _infuriated,_yet still a bit surprised as nobody else had ever thought to do that, they glared daggers up at the horse ahead of them. Both of those hands settled down on their shoulders, holding them in place; the equine looked them up and down, down and up, tilted his head, then reached down - he had to bend over a bit - and, of course, cupped Sverre's sheath and sack in one hand easily encompassing them.

"What if," he went on, and squeezed gently. Sverre turned their head away, going over a familiar mantra in their head trying to avoid getting hard. "What if we saw this, but a little... smaller?"

The sensation of the change made the red panda close their eyes and shiver. Neither exactly pleasant nor unpleasant, it was just a feeling_as nerves shifted and adjusted, as flesh moved and altered and changed. They had no idea _how it worked, just that it did, and that the audience was always more than willing to try things out on them than they would be on themselves.

"Smaller." Then more, further, so that they could feel that hand squeezing tighter. "Smaller..." More and more, until one finger curled away, then a second. "Smaller... there. That's good." Then the horse gave a soft smile. "Now let's hear what you have to say about that."

Sverre didn't even need to look down. Something in the back of their throat and chest thumped, and then- "Buddy, in just the past six hours I've been a hyena, three different kinds of dog, a horse, two ferals, and I've run the entire marathon of bits down there. Everyone likes to see a bit of themselves in me. So what's that say about you," and here they reached forward to return the grope, sliding a cupped paw up between the horse's legs, "if this is what you're doing to me?"

In response the equine smirked, pressed himself more firmly down into that paw, and again tilted his head the other way. He returned a hand to Sverre's shoulder, pushing them gently down. "Let's get you a little bit smaller here, too," he said, and the red panda felt his height shift to adjust, proportions shortening, stature reducing.

Soon he came eye level with the horse's sternum, then his belly, then the waistband of his pants, and then...

"Why don't you tell me?"

Forth - December

A gentle breeze whispering in through the window stirred the werewolf awake, rustling through his fur about as much as it rocked the hammock in which he slept. He rode the movement for a little while, looking up at the ceiling far above him as it swung and danced: there was the sound of birds outside, and the cars out on the street, and the occasional crunch of something padding through the leaves at the foot of the big tree outside. Then another breeze, slipping its way in through the half-inch space left between the window and its sill. He stretched his arms over his head, gave voice to a wide yawn, reached up to pull himself over the edge of the hammock, and then flipped himself down and over.

His bare footpaws thumped against the surface of his bedrest, and as had become a sort of morning ritual for the werewolf, he ran his pawpads over the text lightly engraved into the woven material. "...enstein,"_as his bed covered the first half of the title - and then, just underneath in a smaller face: _"...ern Prometheus". Now fully awake, limbered up, and a little bit dizzy from twisting back and forth over the book's title, he stretched his arms up again, yawned yet again, felt his tail flick and lash behind him, and faced the window before him, the foot and a half width of it stretching far beyond his outstretched arm-span to either side.

For a while he stood there, paws on his bare hips while looking out the window and across the vast yard outside. There was the tree, tall even to the perspective of someone of normal stature; the fence enclosing the space, the little birdhouse that had been a hell of a task for him to build at his size, the pathway leading up to the patio... the damn feral squirrel that seemed to revisit four times out of the week to see if the screen had finally fallen off the window. The werewolf cursed and took a half-step back when the rodent hopped up and peered in at him, looking out from those big, soulless eyes. He could smell its fetid breath, and see the way its limbs shook and trembled with anticipation.

"Get out of here," he growled, waving his arms. "Shoo. Go on. Yeah, I sleep naked - are you coming here because you wanna eat me, or because you wanna eat me?"

The squirrel chittered and leaned in closer, placing its ugly snout into the space between the window and its sash, squishing up against the screen. The werewolf growled again, crept closer, and delivered a firm kick right to that spot, causing it to yelp and scurry away. He was strong for his size, sure, but nothing he could do could even try to dislodge the screen from the window's border.

He had to play the hand he'd been dealt. Still grumbling to himself, he turned and continued across the front of the book, a nice 1942 hardcover, and with some effort lowered himself down to the top of the nightstand upon which he made his little roost. His friend Aure, who actually owned the place and let the diminutive werewolf inhabit his own, equally diminutive portion of the space, had taken the time to print out a little nameplate for him stuck to the side of the section: Honeysuckle.

Technically, this entire room had been left to him. It felt like the greatest of mansions for someone of his size, complete with everything he could ever want. He continued down the fixtures and ornaments established for his own ease of movement, then stepped up onto the dish that served as his shower drain: hanging from the nearby wall through a hook drilled and caulked into place was a repurposed, or rather newly purposed as it had never been used for its original intent, enema head with the pressure on the handle adjusted for his working. He reached forward, tapped it on, hissed at the initial chill of the water, then stepped in when it heated up to something pleasant.

Honeysuckle never really put much worry into keeping himself clothed. As Aure made sure to regularly remind him, "what, embarrassed? I'd have to use a magnifying glass to see your dick, dude," and as such the only reason he bothered with a shower curtain - a transparent sheet protector, for usage in a ring binder - was to keep the water from spraying out across the floor. He scrubbed himself with what had originally been a regular sized bar of soap, used by the other inhabitants of the house until it had worn down to a miniscule nugget, then stepped out, shook himself off, wrapped up in a washcloth, and started to tug his way back up the little tower towards the rest of his things.

Halfway up the towel fell away from his body, and while he didn't care so much about the exposure Honeysuckle still reached out to catch it, as he was a bit damp still. Plodding across the nightstand and around his copy of Frankenstein, he rubbed it across himself, then tossed it to the side; then he reached up for the little ladder Aure had built for him from knotted strings and popsicle sticks, and clambered up towards the top of the bookshelf nearby.

Always a good idea to start the day with some brisk exercise, with the added bonus that running around usually helped to dry him out from his shower. A guard rail of nails driven partially into the edge of the bookshelf and strung through with twine provided a needed boundary around the various obstacles set up around the course, from his own hands and Aure's much larger, if less dexterous, ones. Hurdles made from toothpicks shoved through little pieces of cardboard; a climbing wall from thumbtacks shoved into a small corkboard; speed rings from old bottlecaps with the faces cut out; swinging bars from the spine of a spiral notebook, held together around a pencil; and a fun assortment of other things, spread out and around the relatively vast space here atop the shelf.

The little werewolf flattened down some matted, slightly damp sections of his fur a little bit more, tossed his head, then bore down to get his start. He had a full day ahead of him, after all: Aure promised to take him out shopping today. Honeysuckle drew in a breath, held it for a moment, steadied himself... and then pushed off to begin the course.