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Three’s a Crowd

There really is nothing like the smell of a book store. The aged stories and history while the fresh print and pressed all culminate together into that spectrum of warm parchment and must. The oak floors creaked and groaned with the slightest movement, the warped wood worn and varnish shuffled away from the decades of foot traffic. The shelves and book cases, China cabinets overflowing with books and story related knickknacks, lined the walls and halls. The store had that cozy feel with cute reading nooks in each window for customer to lounge in, a play corner with a colorful rug depicting a train for the kids to play on while their parents perused, and stained glass window ornaments to catch the light from the dusty windows and add to the magical atmosphere.

Various antique clocks ticked away, their rhythms slightly out of sync form one to the other as they droned on, a silent clock in the background kept itself wounded with magnets, golden orbs swinging around a central mechanism all held in a glass dome. The front desk was made from dark stained wood, the cash register an old brass typewriter pull crank device, but next to it glowed a bright white plastic screen for people’s digital wallets. That was the only modern thing on the desk though, like some mechanical weed that sprouted from the wires that wormed their way through the piles of books and papers. A green lamp like you’d see in an old bank teller’s office glowed on a book where a slender and elegant hand traced along the words.

Those white fingertips slid across the text with purpose, his pristine claw tips brushing against the yellowed pages of the book. His white fingers gave way to dark furred palms, almost like fingerless gloves that formed a gradient going up his arm. They went from dark blood red to a bright crimson coat. The fox bobbed his head with his music, his headphones in his ears as he read his book behind the counter. The fox had a duo of antlers though, the photo of his parents behind him showing a buck and a vixen explained his heritage and mixed form. His emerald eyes glistened as he picked up the book, becoming engrossed in the story. He sat up on his stool, crossing one leg over the other and showing off the best of both his father and mother’s traits. Long slender legs yet firm with young muscle, the delicate spackling of white spots like a fawn trickled over his tail, his undercoat a bright, creamy peach red. He wore a simple blue shirt with some purple jeans that hugged his hips well and showed off his cute foot paws, the soles a golden yellow that shown against the same type of patterning as his hands.

The phone rang and the fox deer blinked, the old phone rattling with its brass bells. He set his book face down to keep it opened to the correct page as he answered.

“Merlin’s Magical Emporium, Merlin speaking, what can we conjure up for you today?” Merlin smirked, the greeting rolling off his lips smoothly. “Yup, we’re open already…Yup, I’ll be here for some time. I’m going to probably go to lunch here in a bit, but I should be done by the time you arrive…of course! See you then. Goodbye now.”

Merlin put the phone back in the cradle and picked his book back up, flipping to the next page with a flick of his thumb. Just then the bell to the store rang and he was pulled from his reading once more, this time opting to snag one of the handmade bookmarks to close his book.

“Hey Michael!” Merlin greeted his rabbit friend with a smirk as he entered his bookstore. “What kept ya?!”

“Hey, Bitch!” Michael joked back. “The line at the sub shop was murder. You ordered it with extra pickles, right?” Michael winked at the deer fox as he came to the front counter.

“You better not have,” Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Man, all these years and it’s still this easy to get your goat?” Michael chuckled slyly as he scooped the subs from the paper bag and handed one to his friend. “Seriously, you need to be better at reading people.”

“Hey, I’m great at reading people,” Merlin fake pouted as he unwrapped his sandwich and took a big bite out of it. “Besides,” he grumbled as bread crumbs flew from his teeth. “Didn’t you strike out last time at the bar?”

“I was just joking man,” Michael chuckled, tossing his floppy ears back. “Learn to lighten up. What? Does that stool got a stick right where the cheeks should go? Looking awfully stiff.”

“I don’t have a stick up my ass,” Merlin swallowed his sandwich and murred. “Thanks again Michael. I couldn’t leave the shop unattended even if it is dead.”

“No problem dude!” Michael tore open his sub and took a big bite, his buck teeth sinking into his bread and crunching through the greens inside. Michael was Merlin’s childhood friend and they had stuck together after graduating. One of those friendships you make when you’ve known each other forever. Though, Michael was Merlin’s opposite in a lot of ways. He was a jock, and he played the part well. His dusty blond hair was sun-bleached from being outside all the time, his ear tips taking on the same light shade. His light brown fur and dark eyes complemented each other, and his lighter undercoat contrasted them nicely. His fur was covered in spackling like Merlin’s, only his wasn’t because he never grew out of his fawn coat. No, Michael’s markings were more like freckles that covered his body.

“So,” Michael smirked as he sucked the sub sauce from his fingers, the last of his sandwich in his maw. “You need me to stick around and help you with some of the heavy lifting?”

“I can handle restocking the shelves, don’t worry about it,” Merlin waived off the bun’s concerns.

“Come on, you paid for the grub. The least I can do is help you around the shop for a bit.” Michael lifted his arms and flexed. Michael was quite muscular, his physique hidden beneath his shaggy fur.

“I’m fine, really,” Merlin smiled. “If I need someone to help me lift things and open jars I’ll give you a ring.”

“Yeah? Ya promise?” Michael smirked and leaned into the table, bouncing his brows.

“What kind of promise would that be?” Merlin chuckled.

Michael kicked himself, that was kind of a stupid line. Then again, how do you suddenly turn on the charm with someone who knew you shat your pants in the third grade? There was simply too much history for him to fake his way through flirting like he normally did.

“You going to come over tonight?” Merlin asked.

“Come over?” Michael blushed. “To your place?”

“Uh, yeah,” Merlin chuckled as he tucked his book beneath the counter for later. “It’s game night. Remember?”

“Oh! Fuck, yeah,” Michael smacked his forehead. “That’s right.”

“You didn’t forget did you?” Merlin cocked a brow.

Just then, Michael thought of a brilliant pickup line!

“I mean, I made plans,” Michael smirked.

“Seriously Michael!” Merlin puffed up. “I’ve been trying to get this game night shit going for forever now.”

Michael flinched. In reality, he didn’t have plans. He was going to say he made plans to go out with Merlin, but suddenly it felt like the wrong time to bring up.

“Y-Yeah…sorry…” Michael mentally kicked himself. “Next time?”

“Sure, whatever,” Merlin rolled his eyes, but then the bell to the door rang, alerting them to a new arrival.

“Hello,” the man entering announced his presence, taking his sunglasses off and clipping them to the collar of his button-down. The arctic fox had silvery hair, his ears tall and tipped with black, the left one had a bar piercing. His fur markings were mostly hidden, but a golden ring of fur circled the base of his neck, giving him the appearance of wearing a gold chain. He had a leather jacket and pants, his boots creaking against the old oak floorboards. He was slightly shorter than Michael, but something in his swagger made the rabbit feel shorter.

“Hello,” Merlin smiled, running his hand through his hair and slicking it back up. “You were the caller on the phone. Um…what was your name again?”

“Waylon,” the arctic fox’s voice had a husky quality that gave the impression he had a cigar or two in his day. “I was asking about your rare antiquities collection?”

“Of course, anything in the case behind me catch your eye?” Merlin hopped off his stool and gestured to the temperature and humidity controlled case.

“Let me see,” Waylon pulled out a monocle from one of his jacket pockets. He closed an eye and peered. “Ah, I do see something quite remarkable.”

“Which one?” Merlin asked.

“I wasn’t talking about the books, cutie,” Waylon winked at the fox.

“Oh my,” Merlin’s tail hiked up, waving behind him slightly. Michael had his jaw on the floor. Who even was this Waylon guy!

“Listen,” Waylon started. “I have a patron looking for that first edition there in the case,” the fox pulled out a platinum credit card. “How’s about I get that book and your digits?”

“S-Sure thing,” Merlin smiled and rung up the book. It was a fairly informal process, but the blatant flirting made it so much more so. Michael stood there frozen, forgotten as the two foxes finished up their transaction.

“Thanks, cutie,” Waylon smirked. “So what’s your name?”

“I’m Merlin,” the fox blushed.

“Well Mer,” Waylon flicked his sunglasses open and pulled them up to his face. “I was only passing through on business, but maybe I just found a reason to stay.”

Michael watched as the love of his life was flirted with, his heart pounding in a mixture of rage and desperation. He felt it building and he couldn’t hold it back.

“Merlin, will you go out with me!?” Michael finally blurted it out. His sudden outburst causing the air to become thick.

“Michael?” Merlin furrowed his brow. “I mean…What?”

“Oh? Did I step on into a complicated relationship here?” Waylon lowered his sunglasses.

“No,” Merlin shook his head. “I mean…I don’t know…I…seriously Michael? I don’t need you to joke around right now.”

“Oh…um…Sorry…” Michael’s ears drooped.

“Dude, I don’t need saving,” Merlin shook his head.

“Didn’t know I gave off that kind of impression,” Waylon looked at the bun, his eyes glaring at him from over his lenses. His seafoam eyes giving off a dark gleam. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Waylon pushed his glasses back up and left the shop.

“What the hell Michael!” Merlin snapped at his friend. “Were you trying to ruin my chances?”

“No! I mean…No!” Michael put his hands up.

“Were you serious about all that?” Merlin shook his head. “Did you really mean it or were you just playing a bad joke?”

Michael felt his face burning, his skin crawl with heat as Merlin gave him a way to profess his feelings, and an out. This was it, he could say what he was feeling.

“No…I mean…Yeah…a joke. Sorry,” Michael scratched the back of his head. “Hey, I’ll hit you up for next game night soon.”

“Okay,” Merlin’s brow was knit in thought. “Whatever you say. Talk soon.”

“Yeah,” Michael huffed and kicked himself as he left the shop.

Around the corner the arctic fox was watching, the book he recently purchased glowing in his hand.

“Game on, bitch,” Waylon growled under his breath at the oblivious bun.

***

“God! I’m so fucking stupid,” Michael slammed his head against the bar. “Larry! Get me another?”

“Hey, Mikey,” the bloodhound behind the bar nudged him. “Someone got you a drink.”

“Huh?” Michael lifted his head and noticed the drink. “Who did that?”

“Me,” Waylon smirked, sitting at the stool next to the bun.

“Oh! It’s fucking Casanova over here!” Michael grumbled.

“Come on now, why you picking a fight?” Waylon smirked. “I’m just trying to buy you a drink.”

Michael gave Waylon a sour look, his inebriated state made it impossible for him to think too quickly.

“Fine!” he snatched the drink and started gulping it down. “But only the one drink!”

***

Michael was pinned up against the wall of the bathroom stall, his lips smacking against Waylon’s as they made out. Waylon’s body was so much like Merlin’s. His fox body lacked the extra curves Merlin’s buck ancestry gave him, but fuck if he didn’t look like his lifelong crush through his drunken eyes.

Hot breath mingled as they made out in the stall, liquor hot on the bun’s breath, but mysteriously absent on the arctic foxe’s.

“Merlin…” Michael moaned.

“Call me whatever you want big bun,” Waylon moaned as Michael kissed and sucked on the fox’s neck, the smell of warm fur filling his nose. That fur was soft, silky like Merlin’s. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine it was the right color.

The bun’s athletic shorts hit the floor, his ten inch shlong flopping forward, showing he didn’t suffer from whisky dick. It smacked Waylon’s chest before the bun forced him around. The fox gave a sexy little growl, pulling his leather pants and underwear down to expose his tight ass. It wasn’t as round as Merlin’s, but fuck it was beautiful. Michael spat on his dick and lined it up with that winking hole and shoved forward, his cock sliding into that arctic ass!

“Oh fuck,” Michael groaned, his hips already moving in a rhythm as he sank deeper into Waylon’s hole. The fox grit his teeth as the bun worked his hole open, the pleasure blooming through the pain before he felt pleasantly full.

Michael’s hips smacked against that tight ass, those buns bouncing against Michael’s hips as he sank deep, that hole gripping his cock as it drooled deep inside him. This wasn’t the first time Waylon had taken a dick this big. Michael could tell he was a pro, and he didn’t need to hold back.

Waylon’s claws raked over the wall of the stall, or at least one hand did. The other pulled the book from his jacket, the pages glowing as he huffed the spell out in hushed tones. It just sounded like gibberish to Michael, the gargling response of a bottom in bliss.

But then , suddenly it felt like that ass was working him harder, slurping on Michael’s cock, his balls bouncing and boiling with need. The bun had jerked off that morning, but now it felt like he had been edging for a fucking year! He needed to bust and he wouldn’t be denied.

“Fuck Merlin!” Michael shouted as his balls drew up and his prostate flexed. His powerful athletic cheeks flexed as he shot stream after stream of cum deep into that fox.

“That’s right bitch! Bust it! Bust it nice and deep! Give it all to me,” Waylon shoved back making sure Michael couldn’t pull away, but he didn’t have to. The bun was so high on his orgasm, he would rather die than pull away form that hole milking his dick.

Michael had never cum so hard or so long in his life, each shot progressively harder and more intense. It was like he was jizzing his entire balls into that hole, but then he felt like he was cumming form deeper inside him. He didn’t care, he just lived in the fantasy that he was fucking Merlin, his hips grinding harder and harder.

To Waylon though, the thrusts were getting weaker and weaker as he pushed back harder and harder.

“That’s it you dumb, fucking faggot, give me all that essence! All of it!” Waylon snarled, fucking back as his veins pressed up against his skin. “I’ll fucking drain you dry until you’re nothing but fuck dust!”

Michael didn’t quite understand, but he felt weaker. It was like each shot of cum was getting stronger and his body was diverting all its strength into cumming. Then he felt a waning ache through his body as his dick clenched and he opened his eyes.

“What the fuck!” Michael watched as the fox he was cumming into was steadily getting bigger, his body wider and himself diminish with each beat of his heart. Already his hands were getting too small and weak to hold onto the fox, crunching into themselves, deflating and shrinking back as his body shrank. Even his voice was getting higher and weaker as he pleaded. He tried to push away, but he noticed his hips had fused with Waylon’s ass, his own heartbeat pumping his essence into the growing fox.

“Fuck yeah bitch!” Waylon slammed his ass down on the floor, pinning the shrinking bun as his essence fueled his body and it’s growth. “Yes! More! Bigger! EVERYTHING YOU FUCKING HAVE!”

Energy surged into the arctic fox as Michael kept dumping his essence one diminishing squirt at a time. The bun couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to, his dick and Waylon’s ass had merged together, the magic in that book fusing them together as one. At some point Michael passed out, his body no longer strong enough to keep him awake as his organs were made into cum, his mind liquidating and surging up into that fox. Waylon flexed his ass muscles, each time another gulp of the bun’s essence was shot deep into him. Nearly effortlessly the fox stole everything from him, Michael’s shots rubbing up against his prostate over and over before everything he was slurped up into that hole.

Waylon stood up, only a small sweat stain marking the place where Michael once was. The arctic fox growled, feeling all that energy and power surging into him. It was like every cell of his body was orgasming, gorging itself on that mass and size. The fox’s veins bulged, his body inching upward, his muscles crunching and flexing, getting larger. His claws extended, his fur got shaggier like Michael’s. His ears rose up higher, one bending at the tip while the other staid straight, his pristine white fur gained splotches of brown, giving him dark lowlights that accented his musculature. His clothes tore, his leather jacket riding up to expose his lower back, corded muscle being hidden under a shaggy mat of fur.

Waylon continued expanding larger and larger, his boots blowing out as his feet extended outward, his toes getting thick and strong like Michael’s once were. His spine elongated as he crested another half foot taller, his body growing much wider to accommodate all that mass that was packing onto his frame.

Then it was over. Waylon stood there, looking in the dirty mirror of the bar bathroom and chuckling darkly. The jacket he wore rode up his forearms and would never close again. One wrong flex and he was sure he would tear out the back of it. Then he felt a little fluttering in his belly. It was Michael’s soul, his entire existence trying to break out of that abdominal wall. The bun’s non corporeal form glowed like a firefly caught in a trap. Waylon grinned darkly and flexed his abs, that soul crushing and juicing out into his veins. Golden light surged through Waylon’s circulatory system, his mind filled with all of Michael’s memories and skills, everything he was, was now his to use. His entire life was his as well. If he truly wanted, Waylon could step into Michael’s old life as if nothing had changed. Everyone would remember him as Waylon, the jock fox bunny hybrid. The sexy juggernaut of elegant athleticism.

He gripped the sunglasses on his shirt and slipped them on, his massive foot paws making the ground rumble as he walked out of the bar.

“Sorry Michael,” the fox bun growled. “I got a game night to crash.”

***

Merlin sighed as he sat on his couch streaming old reruns. He wore nothing but a pair of panties that clung to his cunt and a loose tank. Game night had been a bust again! He didn’t even invite anyone else over besides Michael…wait, he meant Waylon. Why would he think his name was Michael? Whatever! The point is, Merlin only invited Waylon over to play games and make a game night so he could ask him on a date. He figured a casual setting would set the mood better.

There was a sudden buzz and Merlin snagged his phone. It was from Michael…no Waylon! Why did he keep doing that? The fox buck shook his head and opened the text.

“Yo Bitch! Open up!” is all it read. Then another attachment came through with the image of Waylon’s massive crotch bulge leaning on the curve of his front-door handle.

Merlin’s eyes went wide, his emerald orbs glittering in the glow of his phone, the image of that bulge reflecting off them. He tossed the phone to the side and quickly got to the front door and swung it open. There, standing in all his glory with only a tight leather jacket, a torn shirt, straining boxers, and tattered boots was Waylon. Merlin had no idea where the bun fox had gotten clothes that made him look like he just wolfed out of them, but fuck if his pussy wasn’t warm just from looking at him.

“W-Waylon?” Merlin’s heart pounded, his lifelong crush was standing before him with a sexy grin on his face. Waylon dipped his sunglasses, his beautiful mismatched eyes of brown and seafoam glinted in the low light.

“It’s about time we cut the crap, Merlin,” Waylon snorted out his nostrils, a duo of steamy streams shooting out and wafting around them. “You want me, and I’m tired of pretending to only be your friend when we both want something more.”

“W-Waylon?” Merlin blinked and took a step back. “I…I didn’t know you felt this way?”

“I guess I finally have the balls to say something about it,” Waylon smirked darkly as he leaned down and pressed his lips to Merlin’s

BAM!

Fireworks went off in both their hearts. The long time relationship between Merlin and Michael manifesting itself in this new warped reality. Waylon shoved Merlin into his house, his tongue lulling deep into his muzzle as he pinned him against the wall. Their lips smacked, their tongues danced, nearly two full decades of lust coming out in one passionate make-out session.

Waylon’s hand slipped down to Merlin’s panties, his thick, muscular fingers sliding under the hem of his panties and finding that warm cunt. He smiled into the kiss as Merlin gasped, those fingers finding the little cboy’s clit and playing with it.

“That’s it baby,” Waylon murred. “You like the way I play with that shit? You like how I make you fucking squirm?” The bun fox rumbled, his teeth glinting as they continued to make out. Merlin was trying to keep up with everything, his mind racing as his petals and clit were expertly played with. Waylon was bi, and Merlin knew that, but he didn’t know he was so talented with petting pussy.

Waylon’s other hand cupped Merlin’s muzzle , pulling him into a deeper kiss, the bun fox’s tongue lulling deeper into the deer fox’s muzzle. Merlin’s antlers knocked pictures off the wall as they made out, their tongues circling one another as Waylon made it abundantly clear who was in control.

Merlin tried to use his hands and help Waylon take his coat off, but the bun fox simply flexed his back muscles, the leather tearing away and splitting down his massive arms, letting the threads fall in tatters around him. Merlin gave a shuddering gasp at the display, and just as he did, Waylon slipped a duo of fingers into his pussy.

“That’s right Merlin, whine for me, fucking whimper,” Waylon rumbled into his ear as he nibbled it.

“Fuck , Waylon, yes! Please more!”

“Damn right you’ll beg for more,” Waylon rumbled, his knuckles glistening inside those panties as he played with the deer fox’s sensitive bits, tracing circles over that sweet spot and making Merlin’s toes twitch, his toe beans flexing as he was pushed right to the edge and teased with his orgasm. Waylon was in control, he was in power, he was the one who would take charge.

Waylon growled darkly as energy slipped inside him. It was subtle and sweet, but it was the same magic that resided inside the book. The book itself was spent of all its power, but it was clear where it had gotten its magic from. Merlin was a little power box of magic. The book must have absorbed it passively while in the shop with him. And for such a powerful reality bending spell to be pulled off, it would take a lot of magic, and that was just what this little skank unknowingly gave off ambiently.

Waylon couldn’t wait to tap his new lover and magic font.

A sudden flick of his wrist and fast shlicking of fingers into Merlin’s depths caused the little deer fox to scream out in pleasure, squirting on those digits.

“Fuck yea! Give it to me Merlin! Fucking squirt all that shit out!” Waylon snarled darkly. It could be misconstrued as him talking dirty about those fingers striking oil in the little deer fox’s snatch, but more accurately, it was about the sudden surge of magic that was flowing into Waylon. Static popped and tingled deep into Waylon’s bones, the magic curling up inside him and making his heart beat harder, his spine to tingle, and every nerve to light up with power.

“Oh God! Waylon!” Merlin screamed as his orgasm tapered off.

“Fuck you’re perfect,” Waylon rumbled in his ear before leaning in for a deep kiss. Merlin’s arms wrapped around Waylon’s thick neck, the powerful muscle there flexed against he smaller deer fox’s arms. Waylon removed his fingers from Merlin’s snatch, gripping the deer fox’s tight cheeks, and kneaded them with his fingers. He lifted the deer fox up, Merlin’s legs wrapping around the bun fox’s waste as he carried him to the couch.

Waylon set Merlin down, a wicked grin breaking their kiss as he gripped the hem of those panties and tore them off, his powerful claws flexing, his pecs bouncing with the exertion as he tore them off.

“Waylon! I loved that pair!” Merlin furrowed his brow.

“Shut up bitch,” Waylon growled lustfully. “You won’t be needing underwear while I’m around.”

“I…I won’t…need underwear…with you Waylon…” Merlin’s eyes glowed green, the same glow coming from Waylon’s eyes as his powers changed Merlin’s perspective and preferences.

“That’s right,” Waylon gripped his own underwear and tore it off, his massive eighteen inch boner flopping forward. His tapered tip flopping forward and smacking onto Merlin’s abdomen. The accumulative size of both Michael and Waylon’s cocks throbbing with mixed virility, his duo of grapefruit balls hanging in his furry sack.

“Holy shit! That’ thing’s way too big!” Merlin’s eyes were wide, but started to glow.

“No such thing as too big, size queen,” Waylon murred darkly, his eyes glowing that ghastly green. “You can’t help but want to take every last fucking inch, right bitch?”

“I…I’m not a bitch…” Merlin mumbled, his eyes glowing brighter.

“You’re whatever the fuck I call you,” Waylon rumbled, sliding his hips back. “You love when your man talks dirty to you, don’t you, Skank,” Waylon’s hot tip was oozing pre as he flicked it over Merlin’s clit. That hot tip smearing his musky essence on that little nub. Waylon bit his lower lip as magic tingled up his cock, his dick like a lightning rod.

“Y-Yes babe…”

“That’s Daddy to you, slut,” Waylon rumbled, pressing his cock forward. Merlin gasped, his pussy opening to that thick cock, spreading him wide as he slowly sank his shaft into his folds.

“Fuck yes Daddy!” Merlin’s toe paws flexed, his thighs shaking wider as Waylon started to work his way into his new mate’s hole.

“That’s a good little slut,” Waylon rumbled, grunting as he thrusted deeper, his balls swinging forward as he wedged more and more of his dick into Merlin’s sweet, sweet snatch. “You going to keep those legs spread for me? Day and night?”

“Yes Daddy! Mmmfff! Whenever you want me, I’ll be there, fucking dripping for that Daddy Dick!” Merlin squealed, his kinkier personality melding with the magical one that Waylon was imprinting on him. Waylon smiled darkly, pleased he didn’t need to change Merlin much at all to be his perfect little cock sleeve.

“That’s right, bitch,” Waylon started rolling his hips, almost all his dick sliding into that needy, sopping sexy silk and pulling back out. “You can’t help but be Daddy’s good little slut. Can’t you?”

“Yes! Yes please! I’ll fucking worship you daddy! Just fuck me! I’ll be a good little slut for you! I’ll be your good boy! I’ll do whatever you ask, whenever you ask! I’ll wear whatever makes you happy, whatever turns you on!”

“That would be your birthday suit, baby,” Waylon growled lustfully. “Around the house, I want that ass on full display all hours, got me?”

Waylon slapped Merlin’s ass hard, the deer fox giving a high pitched yip that melted into moans.

“Yes Daddy! Whatever you want!”

“You going to make my meals? Gunna be a good cook for daddy while he fucks you over the fucking stove?” Waylon’s hips started to move faster, his groin and pubic fur meshing down on Merlin’s little peach, that clit getting worked as those heavy balls smacked his ass.

“Yes Daddy! Whatever you want! I’ll make you fucking dinner while you rail me from behind!”

“Yeah bitch! Know your place!” Waylon snarled, his cock bottoming out in that cunt, smacking that cervix every time and making Merlin’s abdomen bulge. “You’re Daddy’s little fucking kit factory nut bucket!”

“Fuck yes daddy! Raw me full of those kits!” Merlin was so far gone in the fantasy, he wasn’t fully aware of the gravity of that massive foot and a half of raw bun-fox meat plowing at his unprotected soil.

“Fuck yes!” Waylon snarled, static rolling down his cock, his balls felt like they were floating in a duo of mouths made of pleasurable static as that magic pooled into them before shooting up his spine and blooming over his body. The raw power surging through him was palpable as it caused his fur to stand on end.

Waylon gripped Merlin and flipped him around before putting him down on the coffee table face first. He then started thrusting into him from behind, thick, wet slapping filling the air as Waylon cored out his mate, his cock digging deep and getting ready to claim his most intimate of places.

“Fucking arch your back, bitch!” Waylon gripped Merlin’s horns and yanked them back, the deer fox screaming in surprise. His belly was on full display, the outline of that cock smacking and bulging his cervix over and over reflected off the TV. Merlin drooled, his pussy oozing as those musky balls slapped his clit over and over, Waylon’s knot welling and getting ready for the tie.

“You ready for me to fucking claim you? You ready to be daddy’s bitch! My fucking kit dump! My fucking cum bucket!”

“Yes Daddy! Fucking BREED Me! Make me yours!”

Waylon was down to the short thrusts, his hips smacking against Merlin’s pussy and prying it open beyond anything it had been stretched before. Then with a sudden loud shlorp, Waylon was tied with Merlin.

“No going back now! You’re fucking MINE BITCH!” Waylon snarled, thrusting deeper to seat his knot as far in that warm sexy silk as he could as it pulsed around him.

“YEEEEESS!” Merlin screamed, his pussy popping off and drenching those balls beneath him in his fem cum. Waylon’s nuts rose, those duo of super charged kit factories getting ready to dump their bastards deep into that needy snatch. Waylon snarled before throwing his head back and let out a deafening roar. All the neighbors knew exactly what was going on as Waylon staked his claim, his prostate snapping into action, his balls bouncing, twitching, his taint flexing as thick jets of seed shot directly into Merlin’s womb, smacking the back of it and pooling in him like a living condom.

Waylon snarled, lifting his foot paw to brace himself on the coffee table, his knot swelling and distending Merlin’s still squirting pussy as he rocked his hips, stimulating the tie and pulling Merlin into a deep kiss.

“You’re mine now, babe,” Waylon growled into their kiss.

“I’m yours Daddy,” Merlin murred back.

This post coitus pillow talk went on for nearly a half hour until Waylon’s knot deflated enough for him to start fucking into round two. The bun fox now had a spell book with powerful spells, a lover that would keep him gorged on all the magic he could ever want, and a mate to love and protect.

“Mine,” Waylon snarled as he started to fuck into Merlin again, his cock glazed in a mix of their cum as he shoved back in.

“Yours…daddy…” Merlin gasped.

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