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15. Cuckolding

kier-ish

The snow leopard squirmed where he sat, forcibly held in place by the ropes binding him to the chair. He could easily wriggle free of those ropes - the hyena had been quite gentle when he had tied them - but part of him quite enjoyed the struggle and helplessness, as much as it did everything else going on in front of him. In fact, that one particular part of him throbbed within the metal cage affixed around his sheath and anchored along his sack, his excitement taken to the very peak that the restricted space could allow.

"How's that? Is that good?"

"Oh, God, you know it is..."

His ears remained fixed forward as well, constantly angled towards the two familiar voices, the rustling of blankets and fur on the bed, the squeaking of the mattress itself. His wife had turned on the light, as she always did during these visits, and angled things to provide him the front row seat to the action.

This mean that, from where he sat, he got a nearly unobstructed view of the hyena's shaft pumping deep inside of her between her legs, his heavy sack swinging down along the base of her tail as he bred her. Each thrust sent her rocking atop the bed and forced another panting moan out from between her parted lips, a sound that Kieran himself had never quite been able to earn. Again and again the hyena thrust down into her, his thighs tensing with the effort and tail swinging, and again and again Kieran got to hear his wife squirm and gasp and moan from the pleasure.

The snow leopard wriggled again, trying to resist the urge to thrust upwards against his cage. If he tilted his head to the side he could get a view of what was going on there, too: after he had asked that little question Shekh, the hyena, had leaned in to caress the other snow leopard's breast, first dragging his tongue up over the areola, then pursing his lips in to suckle gently along the nipple - and when he shifted his jaw and tugged upwards on it, grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin, she jerked and moaned again, body arching up against him so that she could wrap her arms around his back and pull him in more firmly.

"No teeth," she had always told Kieran himself. "I'd prefer it if you didn't suck, either. I don't like the feeling." And here Shekh was, alternating between suckling along that heavy breast and running his sharp fangs over her nipple, pulling with enough force to lift the leopardess up and then drop her back down to the mattress. He grinned while he did it, too, showing just how much of her he took between his teeth.

At one point his olive-green eyes flicked over to her husband, still sitting there against the chair. Kieran felt the force of his gaze and averted his own, immediately stilling his struggle, trying not to think about how he could hear his wife's arousal in each thrust, thick and wet. The few times she let him out of his chastity cage, she always, _always_made him wear a condom, and even then she only obliged his wishes if she got to be the one physically on top.

Shekh smirked again, gaze briefly flicking down towards Kieran's straining cage, and then looked back to Kieran's wife - or, rather, Shekh's girlfriend. The hyena pulled his lips free from her breast with a gentle pop, a thick string of saliva hanging between his maw and her nipple, and then slowed the pace of his thrusts just so he could lean up over her, drag his muzzle in alongside hers... and then meet her lips in a kiss that started slow and soft and quickly picked up with the pace of his hips. Their lips met, parted, and broke again and again, hyena sucking at leopardess tongue, leopardess gripping at the back of hyena neck to pull him deeper into her mouth, all the while she kept her legs tight around his waist.

They each panted into the other's mouth, Shekh briefly needing to adjust his stance to pound down into the leopardess. The mixed juices of their combined arousal dripped down along the base of her tail, staining the fabric of the bed where it touched; Shekh broke from the kiss and nuzzled down to bury his muzzle in her neck, his breath picking up fast and hard. She, too, held him tight and worked her body against his, her eyes flicking over to her husband once more with a similar smirk on _her_muzzle - until those eyes fluttered shut, her mouth dropped open, and she let out a low moan only to be buried beneath the quicker, hotter, much more forceful string of gasps issuing from the hyena.

From this angle Kieran could see it all happen, in the tension of Shekh's thighs and back, in the fervent, rapid bucking of his hips, in the shifting of his heavy balls, in the throbbing of the back of his sack. The hyena hilted himself inside of Kieran's wife and thrust to get himself deeper, the force of his orgasm nearly causing him to buckle at the knees as he unloaded himself deep inside of her. Kieran didn't need to count to see it happen - one, two, three, four, a weaker fifth... the hyena started to slip out of her after that one, shaft glistening and slick with their combined arousal.

A thick, dense glob of the hyena's load dripped out of her then, right before her body twitched in an upward buck following the peak of her own finish. She shuddered and shivered, clutching tight to the hyena, whined into his neck, and then jerked again, immediately splashing the base of his shaft with the proof of that peak, so that it dripped down his thighs and over his footpaws. That was another thing Kieran had never been able to get her to do, even for the few times she allowed him to go down on her.

Shekh rolled off of the leopardess and sprawled out beside her, both of them panting with the exertion and pleasure. Kieran watched as his wife rolled her head to the side, reached over to drape an arm across the hyena's chest, and chuckled softly; the hyena returned the laugh and leaned in for a quick kiss.

"Should we bring him in to clean up?" he asked, voice low.

"No," she responded, lifting her head a bit. "Not yet. Let it sit for a while first. And then we'll have him suck out some of what's left. Not all of it, though."

Shekh grinned. "No?"

"No. It'll make good lube for round four."

16. Blackmail/Humiliation

Larrson

The caribou pulled his phone closer to his face, trying to keep anyone else around him from seeing the screen. The antlers helped, though the beginning of the season meant his were still fairly small; he covered the side of his face with one hand and further obscured his phone screen with the other, still trying to read through the messages himself.

"Larrson. I'm being reasonable here. It's a simple decision."

He flicked back up through the messages, looking back through the photos the buck - his recent ex, of about two and a half months - had sent back to him. Photos stripped from the caribou's private account, private and locked, and then some that he couldn't remember uploading anywhere.

"You always thought you had the upper hand when we were together. Right? You remember that. Of course you do. All I'm saying is, why not try something different for once? I mean, just look:"

_ _

There was the photo of him during his off-season, nubs of not-yet-grown antlers sanded down to remain flush with his head, the caribou himself clad in tight-fitting clothing: a corset strung up the back, half-visible beneath a hanging crop-top; a collar intentionally kept two sizes too big; fingerless arm-socks reaching down to his elbows; thigh-high fishnet stockings; a skirt that hardly covered all the interesting bits; and then, unknown to anyone viewing the photo, the chastity cage underneath to which he had temporarily "lost" the key.

"See? See that photo? It's already clear you like it. Look at your girly little face. Look at that doe's head, and the little puff tail already raised for a good pounding. Don't think I missed that collar, too. Whose is that?"

Once more Larrson shifted his position and looked around the crowded subway. People here were remarkably skilled at minding their own business, but still he felt extremely seen, as though he had gone ahead and waltzed out of his house wearing that same attire. Or, worse, in the chastity cage, the crop-top, and nothing else, as the next photo in line showed. That had been in his backyard, and he had gotten his snow leopardess friend to take the photos as well as treat him to a bit of needed encouragement, but still.

"Well, you know what? We'll make it mine. That's all I'm asking, Larrson. Be my doe. We'll get a big nametag for that collar so everyone knows, and I'll mark you and that collar thoroughly to reinforce the ownership. We'll saw off those antlers you've got growing in, sand them down, get you in some more revealing clothing... keep you caged up. You won't be needing that, after all. Isn't that what you told me? Besides, if you don't..."

_ _

Larrson glanced around once more, glad that the wall of text had obscured those few photos. Then, though, his phone vibrated in his hand and, nervous, he went and tapped on the message. It was a group message, sent to him, his parents, his sister, a few of his classmates from high school, one of his managers at work, and a few others, and was sent from a private number.

And it contained one of the photos that he very clearly remembered taking, though his ex had not yet shown. This one had been taken from that same set, this time with the skirt as well - and it was a view from behind, tail raised, base of the cage visible around his hanging sack, sleek black silicone plug pressed inside of him. Larrson felt his face grow hot and his heart pound in his chest.

"If you don't, then everyone will learn anyway that you're just a soft little doe just pretending to be a big, tough stag. I saved all the pics you ever sent me, and I've gone and combed your personal files at home too."

The next image showed one that Larrson was sure he had never sent anywhere, picturing that same snow leopard sitting atop him while he rested on all fours, again with his rump facing the camera. The leopard had reached down to spread his rump, three fingers from either paw inside of him and pulling out along his rim...

"See? I have everything, Larrson. So that's what I'm saying. It's a reasonable compromise. I already have a pretty outfit all picked out for you. So I'll just"

_ _

Briefly, a swarm of other messages obscured the screen. 1 new message in Group chat. 2 new messages in Group chat. 3- 4- 5 new messages in Group chat. "Wtf??" "Lar?" "Wrong number?" "Is this a mistake?" "We need to have a talk"

_ _

"So I'll just wait for your answer, and we can get you all set up when you come over this weekend. Deal?"

_ _

The caribou sighed again and thumped his head back against the window. He brought one hand up, wiped it across his forehead, clutched his cheek, reached up to feel at the fuzzy antlers poking out of his head, dropped it back down... his phone vibrated again. He let it sit for a moment and then, reluctantly, picked it back up.

"I can wait. You can't. Let me know."

17. Vore - unbirth

Nematious

Nematious wriggled within the wolf-dragon's grasp, the warmth of their paw squeezing around him, pads soft yet strength still there, threatening to clamp around him if he tried any harder to escape. Through the fingers wrapped before his vision he could see their face smiling down at him, smooth charcoal-grey fur providing a sharp contrast to the pale white teeth of their grin. They lounged back where they lay, easy and nonchalant, not paying a single care for the wolf's struggle.

In fact, Silas - the dragon - lifted their capture up and turned him over in their paw, looking over him from head to toe and then back again. "Oh, yes..." the mused, voice soft. Nematious looked down over the thick unkempt mane of fur around their head and shoulders, then over the flat chest and flatter stomach, down further as they lowered him back down. "You'll be fine. Just fine."

It wouldn't be quite right to say Silas was the far larger of the two, when in reality Nematious was simply the smaller. He fit easily within its paw, footpaws and head sticking out of either end, one finger coming up to keep his muzzle angled down. Now, though, as the dragon lowered him further, that grasp loosened and changed, pinching down along his body, careful so as not to crush him.

They spread their legs, one sliding down towards the ground and the other bumping along the wall against which the bed sat. Nematious squirmed again and then stopped, knowing that he had just caught sight of the dragon's intended target for him: the warm, pink flesh of a plump canid space, soft and supple, protruding a bit away from their body. The other paw came down, fingers parting around that slick flesh, and pulled back along it to show the wetness inside, the sleek walls, the tight, squeezing space which Nematious had no doubt he would soon fill.

Silas adjusted their position a little bit further and then brought the smaller wolf in, angling in so he would go headfirst, keeping a tight, cozy grip around his lower body. Nematious squirmed more the closer he came, already able to feel the intense wet heat radiating out from between the wolf-dragon's thighs. This close he could hear it as well, the gentle pop and pull of strands of arousal pulling free, of those walls sticking to one another and coming free between their fingers - and then the scent wafted over him as well, warm and rich, heady and disorientating.

He squirmed a bit more, though this time for a wholly different reason. Even despite his current predicament, that scent still had quite the effect on him. Nematious swallowed and shook his head, looked forward, took one more breath, and then finally felt that wet warmth sink down around him. Immediately all the noises from outside were muffled, instead replaced by the constant churning and dripping of those fluids.

It all stuck to his fur, too, Silas releasing the grip of their paw around Nematious and pushing him in from behind, inner muscles clenching around the smaller wolf as he went. He squirmed again, felt everything squeeze around him even tighter, held still; the juices of the dragon's arousal coated and matted down his fur in a thick sticky film, overwhelming his senses, nearly gluing his arms to his sides even as the wolf-dragon began to tug downwards on the wolf's legs, sliding him right back out.

He noticed a tense shiver from the legs spread around him before he was pushed back in again, this time faster, deeper, harder. The dragon clenched around him and shuddered, all of those eager muscles squeezing in around the wolf, soaking him further in hot, sticky arousal, filling his muzzle all over again with that delicious, overpowering scent. He tried to pull his arms up around himself to at least wipe some of it out of his eyes, though this movement also just resulted in a twitch, shiver, and buck from the dragon now all around him.

Silas went on like that, pressing Nematious deeper into themself, squeezing tightly around him - the smaller wolf imagined that same tightening around the base of his shaft, pulling on his knot instead of his entire body - and then bringing him out, sometimes by pulling along his legs, sometimes by just letting the natural weight and slickness drop him out, walls relaxing just enough to let him go.

Until, once, they didn't. Nematious squirmed yet again, breath shallow in the restricted air, lungs full of heat and moisture and scent and taste. He could feel Silas writhing and clenching around him, the lips of that plump spade pressing down around his legs and ankles; he realized a second later that the wolf-dragon was working another paw at themself, fingers coming down and then slipping up along their entrance, fingerpads brushing against the wolf's footpaws and settling him deeply in place again. The clenching around his shoulders and body became more rhythmic, stronger, sharper, more sudden; he felt Silas lift up around him, felt them spread their legs, felt the shuddering begin deep within their abdomen, all around him.

Then those fingers came in again, pushing the wolf deeper, deeper, until squeezing, clenching flesh blocked his view of the outside, and all he could hear and fell was the wolf-dragon's peaking arousal. Another shudder, a buck, a sudden gush of hot slickness soaking him from head to toe, and then finally Silas relaxed, the pressure around Nematious abruptly falling away in the wake of their orgasm.

Nematious waited, but no fingers came to retrieve him. He wriggled, trying to push himself down, yet could find no purchase along the slick flesh. Again and again he tried, each time only resulting in his paws slipping down against another shivering clench. Finally, though, he sighed and tried to relax where he was, willing himself to ignore all of the sensations clamping around him.

Silas wouldn't forget about him. Nematious had no doubt about that. It was just what the dragon had in store for him that he didn't know.

18. Hyper

Venio

Venio, dragon-taur, thrust forward again, and again, and again, the sensation of resistant weight and heavy flesh adding as much to the sensation as the several paws working their way over his shaft. "More," he said, hind legs angling a bit to push him forward - but not too far, as his massive sack underneath him, at least as wide around as the main portion of his body, prevented him from doing so. "More..."

The attendants around and underneath him picked up their pace, small paws pressing along the ridges of his shaft, pushing in to squeeze the supple skin of his plump sheath back, sinking in between those balls. Each one of those was itself larger than one of the attendants were they to curl up into a similar shape, and he could feel their arms spread around them, hugging and massaging, working and pushing; a ferret underneath him ended up elbow-deep inside of his sheath, sex-slickened paws sliding around and poking at all of those delicious hidden spots, while an otter near his front pair of lower legs focused on the taur's tapered tip.

Already that otter's front side had been entirely soaked in dripping, oozing pre, repeated bursts of more emptying out across his muzzle and chin. The taur watched, eyes repeatedly trying to flutter shut from the near-constant waves of pleasure washing over him: each throb pulsed through his large sack and shaft, pushing out against his legs and the many smaller individuals underneath him, and finally ending in another bucket-sized glob of clear, sticky pre oozing out across the otter's waiting muzzle and paws. The mustelid eagerly received the mark, eyes once flashing up towards the Venio and then turning back down towards the focus of his attention; he ran his paws forward along the taur's tip, fingers spreading among the dripping slickness that coated the underside of his shaft, and then came in to brush along his own chest as well.

It coated him from shoulder to toe, clinging to and hanging off in thick, heavy ropes. The otter cupped his paw along his belly and scooped a good portion of that sticky pre up, letting it drip down between his fingers and over his own twitching shaft, far smaller in comparison to the dragon's. At one point he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the black-fleshed tip as much as he could - and another well-placed set of paws underneath his tail forced another throb through the taur, resulting in that otter getting an instant mouthful of the stuff, so much that it poured its way out of the corners of his mouth.

He swallowed, then did so again, and a third time, and even when he opened his mouth after to catch his breath, thick strings of it still clung between his lips and teeth. Venio shuddered again and rolled his head back, working his lower hips forward and back against all of the paws and muzzles.

"That's..." He shivered and swallowed, yet another throb pushing through him. "That's good. Keep going, I'm... almost..."

It was such a powerful feeling when it came. The dragon felt his entire lower body tense up, muscles tightening and shaking; he felt those massive balls pull up and clench against himself, felt his shaft throb against his lower chest and belly, felt it pull free from the paws of all of the people working at him; and then it began, slowly at first and then swiftly growing in force, in speed, and in urgency. The dragon-taur thrust forward and gasped, then did so again and cried out - and again, and again, and again.

The otter got out of the way just barely in time when the first rope of Venio's load spurted out, arcing across the floor and landing in an audible smack across the ground. The second joined it, shooting farther; then the third swaying to the side a bit; and the fourth, and fifth, and sixth, each one with enough force behind it to carry it streaming above the otter's head. He know knelt directly beneath the dragon's tip, using his face to wipe off the clinging pre and dripping cum, even as the underside of that shaft still pulsed and throbbed with his peak.

Venio's lower legs nearly gave out underneath him from the lingering sensation of his orgasm, all the muscles of his lower body already aching from the sweet, delicious effort. Again and again he thrust forward, unable to resist from the power of each spurt, until after another several - he had lost count, mind foggy from the overwhelming pleasure - it dribbled down to a slow, steady leak, further coating and soaking the otter underneath him. Panting, the dragon-taur looked down across the mess he had made, residual throbs still sending the occasional sizable glob splashing down over the otter beneath him.

It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. "That's..." The dragon swallowed and settled back onto his haunches as far as he could, his massive balls providing a good enough seat. "That's good. Not quite as much as last time, but... still good."

After a moment the otter stood back up, wiping his paws off on his bellyfur completely coated in the dragon's load. He glanced up, a smirk on his little muzzle. "Again?"

Venio thought about that for a moment, then nodded.

"Again."

19. Vore - post-vore/weight gain

Galaga64

The red panda yawned widely and tried to roll over onto his other side, though quickly found that he couldn't. Surprised and a little sluggish from the weight of sleep still hanging around him, he grumbled softly and tried to do so again - and again and again, to no avail. Finally, fed up with the difficulty of it, he sighed and opened his eyes, stretched his arms as far as he could reach over his head, lifted up a bit... and then sank back into the couch.

Or, rather, sank back into himself, he found. That wasn't the weight of sleep slowing him down as much as it was the weight of his own body, soft folds of fur and skin hanging down around him, the new mass of accumulated fat cushioning his arms, his chest, his shoulders, his belly, his thighs, keeping him spread where he sat, pulling him down to the couch each time he tried to lift himself up. The effort in itself was enough to get him winded, and after a few more attempts at pulling forward off the couch he again gave up, resting his head back along the couch and panting quietly.

"Goodness..." he breathed, watching the ceiling fan spin for a moment. "What happened?"

_ _

After a moment he shifted again, looked down across his suddenly massive front - no longer could he see his knees from any angle, the soft folds of his chest and belly obscuring the view and spreading out along his sides - and then patted his paws in along his newfound girth. They _plapp_ed softly against the surface of his bloated skin, his shirt having peeled halfway up his body to accommodate the sudden increase in size, and then sank in further; as he pressed more he only found more fat there, soft and squishy, a little bit lumpy in places. He could barely even grab himself, huge folds of that skin and fat gathering in his just-as-chubby fingers, themselves nearly impossibly to hold alongside one another.

This, of course, was not how he was used to looking. The panda squirmed again, resulting in half-leaning over to the side before his strong weight pulled him upright again, his giant thighs not even able to leave the surface of the couch cushion beneath him. Before his nap he had been the same as usual, a slim - if bottom-heavy - boy, with a waist that some larger males could completely enclose between their paws and big Yoshi thighs that often got him in trouble with those same males, bumping against them and along tables.

That's right, he thought; I was at a bar last night, someone bought me a beer... the panda frowned, half-reaching an arm up to scratch at his chin, the soft mass hanging down from his underarm and along his chest preventing him from getting any closer. And then what happened? There was that wolf, the small one with the smirk... he looked me over, and I could tell he wanted something, and he... what did he do?

_ _

It came to him through a fog, as though he had been drunk. "Look at you," he said. "I could just eat you up. And I mean more than that fat ass of yours." And I said... "I could do the same. Take a bet?"

"Oh, my God."

That voice wasn't his. Surprised, the red panda tried to straighten up and turn around to look at the door, though his mass prevented him from doing this as well. Again and again he tried to look over his shoulder, only resulting in tiring himself out even more. He could feel the sweat start to gather between the heavy folds along his neck, his shoulders, the underside of his arm...

"Kopa? Is that you? Do you know - what-"

After another moment the leopard came into view around the couch, arms crossed in front of his chest and muzzle twisted in a half-suppressed smirk of amusement. The cat looked over him once, a second time, and then a third, and finally shook his head.

"Jesus Christ, Six. Again?"

"Huh?" The panda looked down and patted at his belly again. "Do you mean-"

"Of course that's what I mean. You got drunk off of one beer, again-"

That held in line. Six frowned.

"-flirted with a boy who didn't believe you were a pred, proved him otherwise... and now you're both here."

"He's here?" The panda tried to look around again. "Where-"

Kopa sighed and with one paw motioned in a large circle in Six's general direction. "There. Everywhere. Stuck to you, all over. This needs to stop, you know. Think about how long it took you to work off what happened last time."

"Well, I just-"

"Look." Kopa came forward and leaned in over the panda, bracing his paws against Six's wide chest. They pressed into him and began to sink in, further and further. "We need to get you on a diet and exercise schedule. One of my friends is doing really great, so I'll talk with him and we - can-" He tried to pull himself back out, balance overthrown by the squeezing mass squishing around his arms halfway up to his elbows now, and finally managed it after a few tries. "We can get you all fixed up."

Six looked down over himself again and then sighed. "Okay. Yeah. Let me, just..."

Once more he tried to stand up, and again fell back against the couch. Kopa shook his head again and grabbed his wrist to help, though just ended up slipping away what with the gathering sweat from all the effort.

Six grinned sheepishly. "Can we start tomorrow? I think I need to... to sleep it off, a bit more."

Kopa eyed him a moment longer, then sighed yet again and turned to leave. "Don't expect me to bring you any food," he said from the other room. "You've already had more than enough to eat."