FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

[b][u][center]The Gift of Christmas Kink

By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

It was Christmas morning, and Cedric sat on the floor while his husband, Francis, sat on the couch. It made the height difference between the rat and the crocodile that much more extreme, but they were both used to that. The glittering lights of the tree flickered off the fog coming in through the cracked window, adding to the multi-colored mists in the chilled living room.

“Are we ever going to fix that?” Cedric asked, nodding toward the crack. “Ain’t that bad yet, but January’s supposed to be pretty bad.”

“Swamp’s never that bad in January. If it’s not freezing yet, ain’t gonna,” the crocodile said.

He shrugged. If the voodoo man said it wasn’t going to freeze, then it wasn’t going to freeze. Simple as. Francis might get people wrong, but he never missed a trick with his magic shit.

Not that it was real voodoo, either. Some of the customers called it that, and Cedric still called it the same in his head, but it wasn’t quite that. Some other kind of magic, sympathetic this and sympathetic that. Something too complicated for someone that had failed high school a year in, that was for fucking sure. Close enough to voodoo for his own private thoughts, considering the shit that the customers wanted out of Francis when they came a-knocking. And paid well for it, too, considering the shit that they had under the tree this year.

“So, you or me first?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go first?” Francis said, the crocodile leaning back on the stained and ripped couch cushions. “Why don’t you go for that little one at the top of the pile?”

“…You planning something, man?”

“Maaaaybe.”

“This gonna be the same kinda shit that had me leaping into the swamp in my fur again? ‘Cause the last time we did that, I was washing mud outta my crack all day.”

“Oh, relax. Ain’t nothing like that. Just open it, Ced; it’s something I worked hard on, just for you.”

He looked his husband in the eye, an eyebrow raised high. Francis was always something of a cheapskate, even between the two of them. Part of the reason that the window never got fixed, and part of the reason that they were sitting in the cold even with all the good money that they’d got in. Hell, he’d bet half the gifts that were coming his way were either something that’d been passed on for barter payments, bought from the thrift shop, or handmade.

[i]Probably half of ‘em kinky as shit, too,[/i] he thought, though not without a smile. The chubby, green-scaled crocodile might’ve been a cheapskate, but there was something nice about having a voodoo-man in the house. Ain’t going to bed unsatisfied or bored, that was for fucking sure.

He took a moment to think about how Francis would look out of those stretched sweats and the sleeveless shirt he wore, and then put it out of his head. If his husband wanted him to go first, he’d go first.

Cedric stretched a hand under the tree. The glittering bits of garland, some of it older than the house they were in, reflected more light through the mist, and his reflection bounced off some of the baubles that Francis kept from some old lady that had taught him the whole magic thing. He saw a rat with a snipped-off ear, shirtless, one nipple hanging lower than the other from a heavy iron piercing in it, and a bit of a gut that hung down over a stained pair of pants. Laundry day soon, he thought. Maybe even before New Year’s.

He leaned back after finding the package, pulling it free and sitting back from the tree again. As he wrapped his tail around his waist, patting the bald thing and rubbing it to keep it warm, the rat looked down at his present. Small, just big enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and wrapped – as usual for Francis – in aluminum foil rather than wrapping paper. He chuckled, tossing it from one hand to the other.

“What the fuck is this, you cheap-ass croc?”

“If you don’t want it, give it back,” Francis said, a slow smirk rising on his snout.

“Ain’t saying that, just saying. You got all the money this year, but you’re still using all this crap.”

“Saves money for later.”

“Yeah? Whatcha saving for? You’ve been saving since I met you.”

“Heh, one day. Come on. Open it.”

“Heh, fine, keep your fucking secrets.”

Shaking his head with a rueful smile, the shirtless rat ripped the foil right down the middle. He half-expected some sort of cell phone or some other gadget from the pawn shop that they sold some of their swamp salvage to, or maybe something like that homing rock that Francis had made a few years ago. That smooth stone bounced all the way home no matter which way you threw it, and it’d got him back on a foggy night more than once.

But it wasn’t anything like that. Instead, it was a little wooden box with a flip-top lid. He flicked it open and cocked his head to the side. Bark had been shaved down and cut to razor-thin rectangles, and as he tilted the box to the side ever so gently, the whole bunch of ‘em came out at once. He yelped, catching them against the palm of his hand –

“Careful, careful! Fuck, ya gonna break ‘em before you even play with ‘em?”

“What the hell’s this? Playing cards? Or this some of that tarot bullshit that you pull with the rubes?” Cedric asked.

“Nothing like. And keep some respect on the tarot, Ced. That shit’s no joke.”

“Fine, fine. So what the hell’s this?”

“Well, take a look. You’re not stupid.”

“Says you…”

“Yeah, and that’s all that matters, ain’t it?”

More than he wanted to admit. He tilted the cards around, taking more care now that he knew what they were. They were so thin that he was sure that he’d break them anyway, but they held, at least for now. He tilted one to catch the light and blinked.

The shaved wood was painted with some sort of berry-juice paint. The damn thing still smelled sweet from it. Well, sweet-bitter, considering there wasn’t anything that sweet that wasn’t half-rotted in the swamp. But it was the vibrant colors on the ‘card’ that held his attention. Two figures, mostly silhouettes, but one was on his hands and knees drooling, while the other stood up with a leash in hand and a collar held before the other. As he tilted it further back, he saw a word on the bottom: Pet-Play.

Cedric stared at the card, still trying to figure out what the hell that was supposed to mean. Laying it down carefully, he looked through the others, seeing that they all had the same rough, vibrant style, and each one had a different kink-title. Footplay, Musk-Slut, Butt-Bitch, Bondage-Time, and more. It was shamelessly sexy, and he couldn’t help but pop a boner in his sweats by the time that he looked away from them and glanced back at Francis.

“Okay…so you did a lotta sexy cards. But, uh, if I ain’t an idiot, then I’m right when I say that this is magic, ain’t it?”

“Right in one, heh.”

“So, what do they do?”

“Come on, you gonna make me spell it out, Ced?”

“I ain’t good with the spelling either, Francis. Come on, don’t make me work on Christmas.”

“Ain’t no fun.”

“Yeah, well, work ain’t fun, neither.”

“True, true.” Francis grunted, stretching his arms over the top of the couch and stretching out his legs. “Call ‘em kink-cards. Kinda like the other magic stuff I do, but these ones? I made ‘em just for you, heh. Thought you’d like to have some magic of your own.”

“Yeah?” Cedric looked at the cards again. “So, when I learn how they work, I just…use ‘em on someone, and they get that kink?”

“Yep.”

“…Ya know I’m gonna use this on you, right?”

“Heh, that’s the point. Ain’t no fun if I’m the only one that can pull tricks on my husband.”

He smiled despite himself, looking down at the cards again. Not often that he got the chance to pull anything like this. Oh, sure, some pranks with the fan-boat, and a couple of times he’d freaked Francis out with fake snakes and other kiddie crap, but this was the real stuff. He was gonna have fun with this.

Going back through ‘em, he looked at the Musk-Slut card again. Now, he was always up for a bit of raunch, but the croc? He was always looking for a good bath before they had any real fun. If this was the real thing…

[i]How’d he do it?[/i]

Want, first, and then will, and…fuck, the third thing…

Right. Contact.

Cedric stood up and leaned over the couch. Francis looked up at him with a faint blush in his cheeks. Oh, the crocodile knew something was gonna happen, but Cedric would just beat that his husband didn’t think that he’d figured it out yet.

He held up the card, turning it around. Franics got a good look at the art and chuckled.

“Damn, going right for the stink, huh?”

“Ain’t stink. It’s [i]musk.[/i]”

“All sweat to me, Ced.”

“Hehehe. If this card works, not for long.”

“Yeah? Think you got it already?”

“Let’s find out.”

Tapping the card to Francis’s head, he took a deep breath and let it out. Wish, will, contact. Wish, will, contact. The idea of having the crocodile huffing at him instead of him begging his husband for a bit of sweaty time was hot enough to have his dick twitching in his sweats, lifting the front of them enough to leave a little dark dot on the front. He held onto that feeling, closing his eyes.

Wish. Will. Willing it through. Willing it to be real. Not just wishing and daydreaming, but pushing for it. It wasn’t just a hope, it was a reality somewhere. Now, he just wanted that reality to be here.

No. He corrected himself. He needed that reality to be here.

Somehow, the card heated under his fingers, and he opened his eyes to see the painting on it glowing. It flickered before he seized hold of the fantasy again, and then it glowed brighter, and brighter, and then –

Whoosh.

The painting disappeared. Francis groaned as Cedric pulled the now-blank card away, staring at it. He opened his mouth –

Then closed it again. The crocodile was sniffing the air, and his pants were starting to tent as he did. A slow smile crossed the rat’s face.

“Hehehe…it worked…”

“Nnngh…goddamn, I didn’t think…fuck, you picked that up quick…”

“It worked. It fucking worked!”

He punched the air, leaning forward. Francis started to lean away, but he grabbed his husband by the back of the head, dragging him close. The croc’s nose dragged along his chest, over his pit, and only then did the other man get the chance to pull back. As Francis huffed, his cock throbbed all the harder, and Cedric’s grin grew even bigger.

“Ho-ho-ho, that’s fucking hot.”

“Goddamn…”

“What?”

“You still stink…but…shit, I kinda like it.”

“How long’s the card gonna last?”

“Mmph…Maybe a week?”

“…Oh, I’m gonna have [i]so[/i] much fun…”

“I’ve created a monster,” Francis muttered, rubbing his nose.

“Hehehehe, oh, you have no fucking idea. Come on. We’ll open the other presents later. I wanna see how hard you get when I sit on your face.”

“…Why the fuck does that sound so good?”

Cedric laughed. This was the best gift he’d ever gotten, and he was gonna abuse the fucking shit out of it. The only reason he didn’t feel bad was the fact that Francis had fucked him up just as hard just last month, and this was only fair.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: A little Christmas story of a pair of swamp-dwellers, one of which has magic. A little gift of cards…

Tags: M/M, Crocodile, Rat, Magic, Christmas, StockingStuffer2024, Corruption, Mind Control, Musk, Redneck, Swamp, Holidays, Gift, Fetish Implantation,