{"sf1_id":1878127,"sf2_id":"A1pXkkD1","title":"Skunk Hunt 1","author":"KevinFoxboy","words":5244,"posted_at":"2022-07-23T18:49:00.000Z","tags":["Adult","BDSM","Bondage","Foxboy","Main Line Anthro Hunt Club","Skunk","kevin"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1878127-skunk-hunt-1","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/A1pXkkD1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/63/3d/633ddb2f-4fd5-4c8f-b83e-d94d4d75f5b9","description":"#10 of HumanFox\n\nMore Main Line Anthro Hunt Club mascot roleplay, this time a Skunk. This story includes adult BDSM stuff; no actual sex.","content":"\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \\* Skunk Hunt \\* (c)2021 Kevin Foxboy, All Rights Reserved  \n\n  \n\nRoleplay hunts, animal mascot costumes, bikinis, briefs, pagans, adult lounge,\u0026nbsp;\n\nponyplay, dogplay, BDSM collar, cuffs, chains, hood, gag, calm, relax, passive,\u0026nbsp;\n\ndocile, tail anchor\n\n  \n\n  \n\n~ 2021-0208.1815\n\n  \n\nHello, I'm Alex, and I'm a Skunk.\n\n  \n\nI mean I'm a 23-year-old guy who works at the Main Line Hunt Club, bringing guests\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe food and drinks they order, or sometimes bussing tables when they've eaten. At\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe MLHC there's also some employees who dress up in animal costumes, and run\u0026nbsp;\n\nalong various marked paths as hunt prey.\n\n  \n\nDue to the fact that the fur costumes get people physically hot, even though they're\u0026nbsp;\n\nvented - the costumes, not the people - they often go to the undressing room to\u0026nbsp;\n\nremove the costume fur and the support suit, down to the rather skimpy, but still\u0026nbsp;\n\ndecent, two-piece bikinis for women, or bikini briefs for men.\n\n  \n\nCustom is to wear the fursuits outside when it's cool enough, or just the swimsuits\u0026nbsp;\n\nwith fake animal fur trim when it gets hot. In Spring or Autumn, there's a mixture, and\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe fur is actually lightweight enough to stay warm.\n\n  \n\nKeep in mind that there are people walking around all year in fursuits and running\u0026nbsp;\n\nslippers, flexy enough to get a good grip in dirt and loose gravel, while still providing\u0026nbsp;\n\nprotection from any hard rocks. It reminds me of mascots at sports or entertain-\n\nment events, and they do try to get the guests to come watch.\n\n  \n\nThe ones who run in the hunts that the place is named for have replaced the foxes\u0026nbsp;\n\nand other animals the guests used to shoot. They're not allowed to actually shoot\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe costumed people, or use paintguns on the fake fur, so the guns shoot rubber\u0026nbsp;\n\nthat doesn't really hurt.\n\n  \n\nTo be totally honest, I've enjoyed shooting most of the folks doing animal roleplay,\u0026nbsp;\n\npartly because it's anonymous, even when they get undressed or just remove the\u0026nbsp;\n\ncostume head and show their human faces. I like seeing the women unhead and\u0026nbsp;\n\nthen show their sexy curvy bodies in those bikinis, partly because I'm a hetero-\n\nsexual guy, and partly I like seeing the lack of tan lines from the tan-thru swimwear.\n\n  \n\nI'd worked at the MLHC in the dining room and guest lounge for about two years\u0026nbsp;\n\nwhen I started noticing a delightfully curvy vixen, I mean a young woman wearing\u0026nbsp;\n\na lady-fox fursuit. The fake fur was contoured to show off her body, and the under-\n\nlying support suit clung to her curves in a most enticing manner.\n\n  \n\nThe top part actually had breast curves built into it, and I wasn't the only guy who\u0026nbsp;\n\nwas interested in finding out if it hugged her real body or was just padding. It was\u0026nbsp;\n\nquite strange at first (or second, or third) sight, because of course actual female\u0026nbsp;\n\nanimals don't have human breasts, just columns of nipples. And they're hidden\u0026nbsp;\n\nby the fur, except maybe when the animal's lactating to feed children.\n\n  \n\nAs it turned out, Alice Vixen (those staff members who run as hunt prey use the\u0026nbsp;\n\ncostume species as a family name) was in fact quite curvy with C cup human\u0026nbsp;\n\nbreasts which I've had the distinct pleasure to caress into and out of her bikini.\u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n\nThe human woman has just the two breasts, unlike the lady fox she dresses up as.\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe's planning to wear a contoured front under the fursuit, molded foam adding to\u0026nbsp;\n\nher lovely C-cup natural breasts, giving her the shape of three rows of two fake\u0026nbsp;\n\nbreasts each, a very foxy set of eight total nipples.\n\n  \n\nI'd very much like to help her by holding her warm body close as she adjusts the bra\u0026nbsp;\n\nstraps holding her own breasts, as well as the B and A cups, and the fake nipples. I've\u0026nbsp;\n\nnoticed there's a coven of pagans on the MLHC grounds who are quite accepting of\u0026nbsp;\n\nfolks going around wearing animal fursuits, or just the bikini or swim briefs.\n\n  \n\nIn the adults-only section, the pagans often go around completely nude, carrying a\u0026nbsp;\n\nbeach towel or storage pouch belted around their waists. Everybody sees everything,\u0026nbsp;\n\nand quite soon gets used to seeing and showing. And nobody gets molested, unlike\u0026nbsp;\n\noutside where they're supposed to have strict social morals.\n\n  \n\n~\n\n  \n\nSince the support suits are stretchy and form-fitting, and the fursuits are fake fur,\u0026nbsp;\n\nthere's no problem wearing them while we serve guests their food and drink. I think\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe place used to be a summer camp, because there's a barn with various animals\u0026nbsp;\n\nhoofing or pawing around like displays.\n\n  \n\nThere's an area nearby where professional wranglers handle the horses the guests\u0026nbsp;\n\nride when they hunt us. The rifles don't use bullets, so it's not The Most Dangerous\u0026nbsp;\n\nGame, but we are supposed to get down on the hunt path ground and be dead when\u0026nbsp;\n\nwe feel the rubber bullets.\n\n  \n\nI was pretty surprised the first few times I went along on a hunt as a background skunk\u0026nbsp;\n\nanimal. It's supposed to teach the hunters not to go around shooting wildly, but hunt\u0026nbsp;\n\nresponsibly. I'd worked in the dining room and guest lounge about two years, watching\u0026nbsp;\n\nfolks dress up and run around as biped animals, thinking it was pretty kinky when the\u0026nbsp;\n\nadult hunt prey would get undressed, shower, rinse themselves out and slip a long tube\u0026nbsp;\n\nup each others' fundaments.\n\n  \n\nThen they'd put on the support suits and fish the tip of the tube through the slot at the\u0026nbsp;\n\nback, step into the fursuit legs, and attach the fake animal tail to the tube. It takes a\u0026nbsp;\n\nbit of getting used to, first for the empty feel after rinseout, then the full feel of the\u0026nbsp;\n\ntube, and then the weight of the fake tail.\n\n  \n\nThere were only two people at the MLHC who dressed as skunks when I first worked\u0026nbsp;\n\nthere. Bill and Sue were brother and sister, and she seemed ok with letting him see\u0026nbsp;\n\nher lovely nude body in the common shower room. But they went to the separate\u0026nbsp;\n\nmen's or women's rooms to rinse out and get their tail anchors inserted.\n\n  \n\nA few months after I started, the owners decided to have actors roleplay other woods\u0026nbsp;\n\nanimals, not just hunt prey. It's been a gradual shift, because of course they have to\u0026nbsp;\n\nwait for someone to come looking for work, who's willing to put in the time and effort\u0026nbsp;\n\nto study a particular species' behavior, as well as shower and rinse with other people,\u0026nbsp;\n\nand get the anchor and tail.\n\n  \n\nThere doesn't seem to be a section in the local newspaper classifieds for animal\u0026nbsp;\n\nroleplay, and by the way it's adults only because of the casual nudity.\n\n  \n\n\"Year-round nature camp seeks adult men and women to dress up in animal mascot\u0026nbsp;\n\nfur-suits as background characters. Wide choice of mascot species to choose from.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNo previous experience needed, will train behavior. Plenty of outdoor activities and\u0026nbsp;\n\nexercise runs available. Must get along with other actors as well as guests. Live-ins\u0026nbsp;\n\npreferred, but transport negotiable.\"\n\n  \n\nThat's actually the ad I answered, although of course it included the address and\u0026nbsp;\n\ndirections. Recently out of college, I needed a job and apartment to support myself,\u0026nbsp;\n\nand as a theater major I figured I'd be a shoo-in. I started having second thoughts as\u0026nbsp;\n\nsoon as I drove by on the access road, because I saw at least two dozen people in\u0026nbsp;\n\nfursuits cavorting on the dry grass, running over to watch me with their furry tails\u0026nbsp;\n\nwaving and swinging.\n\n  \n\nI kept looking around for a Cheshire Cat or a Mad Hatter, but I did see a six-foot tall\u0026nbsp;\n\nrabbit. And by the way, the guy wearing the fursuit is indeed named Harvey. Glad they\u0026nbsp;\n\nhave a sense of humor. It felt very strange to be sitting in a car, hemmed in by metal\u0026nbsp;\n\nwhile they ran around free and gawked at me. Shouldn't it be the animals in cages?\n\n  \n\nAnyway, now that I am one of the free-range animals, I'm definitely enjoying the joke.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt's normally pretty quiet in the fields along the road, and I've enjoyed running along\u0026nbsp;\n\nlooking furry with my big bushy skunktail waving around, the support rods holding it\u0026nbsp;\n\nup with the last third or so curled under.\n\n  \n\nThe secret is, every year just before growing season, several of us use gasoline-\n\npowered tillers to break up the soil and smooth it out. No dangerous holes to risk\u0026nbsp;\n\ntwisting an ankle or worse.\n\n  \n\nWe've also run the big tiller along the hunt trails, making six-foot-wide paths for the\u0026nbsp;\n\nbig bio-equines, quite smooth for safety. The Hunt Club actually hired a retired race-\n\ntrack groundskeeper to supervise, to make sure we had packed the surface to avoid\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe big heavy horses making deep hoofprints for the next horse to trip in.\n\n  \n\n~\n\n  \n\nI used the term bio-equines to distinguish the big undressed furry mammals from the\u0026nbsp;\n\nfolks who run along pretending. These ponyboys and ponygirls pull modified sulkies,\u0026nbsp;\n\nwearing hoof-shaped high-heel support boots to give them a digitigrade stance, and\u0026nbsp;\n\nonce they're used to balancing, they get the full unguligrade boots shaped to hold\u0026nbsp;\n\ntheir feet pointed without heel support.\n\n  \n\nHooves are shorter and wider than human feet, so there's actually plenty of padding\u0026nbsp;\n\ninside the boots to compensate for putting all the weight on the toes. If you've never\u0026nbsp;\n\nseen men and women wearing lightweight boots, skimpy swimsuits with fur trim, fake\u0026nbsp;\n\ntails and heads, and full leather tack harnesses, bridles, mouth bits and reins, please\u0026nbsp;\n\ncome out to the Main Line Hunt Club and watch our pony players strut around before\u0026nbsp;\n\ngetting harnessed, led around by folks roleplaying grooms and trainers, then harnessed\u0026nbsp;\n\nto sulkies to pull guests around for tours or carts with supplies.\n\n  \n\nOh, and be sure to compliment the human ponies as you watch their muscles move,\u0026nbsp;\n\nespecially the firm, mostly-bare rumps and thighs as they walk, jog and run. Especially\u0026nbsp;\n\nWilma and Grace, two well-matched dark-skinned young women who run as ponygirls,\u0026nbsp;\n\nsometimes even along with guests riding bio-equines.\n\n  \n\nOr Hans and Gunther, a cart team moving food and other kitchen supplies from the\u0026nbsp;\n\ndelivery foot of the access road all the way to the kitchen, or along the walking paths\u0026nbsp;\n\nto the cabins. These men are quite friendly as ponyboys, especially when you remem-\n\nber to bring apples for them. Their work keeps them lean and muscular, so if it's beef-\n\ncake you enjoy, sit with the cart driver and watch them up close.\n\n  \n\nNow me, I prefer the ladies with their curvy bodies and sexy female muscles, their fake\u0026nbsp;\n\ntails swishing and long bare legs flexing, their bare arms ending in hoof gloves around\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe sulky handles. The slight sheen of sweat as they've been running alongside each\u0026nbsp;\n\nother, pulling guests in separate sulkies along the paths.\n\n  \n\nPlease come over and enjoy them harnessed together to a tour cart.\u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n\n~\n\n  \n\nNow since these are actually humans who volunteered for ponyplay, not captives being\u0026nbsp;\n\npunished or forced, the whips aren't used to hurt them, unless that's the BDSM scene\u0026nbsp;\n\nthey've agreed to. Hans and Gunther actually don't mind a little gentle whipping, espec-\n\nially when they're being driven, because they're big strong men just roleplaying ponies.\n\n  \n\nIt's rather a shock for new guests the first time they see ponies being whipped along a\u0026nbsp;\n\npathway. The sound of leather on bare flesh is quite convincing, and some of the more\u0026nbsp;\n\ncareful thinkers understand that we're criticising the treatment of bio-equines. It's one\u0026nbsp;\n\nthing to discipline them to train them, since actual ponies don't understand plain\u0026nbsp;\n\nEnglish, quite another to beat the animal just because you're frustrated and they\u0026nbsp;\n\ncan't get away.\n\n  \n\nAnyway, several of the Main Line Hunt Club's hunt prey roleplayers get into some\u0026nbsp;\n\nof the milder BDSM activities, because it's actually rather fun to be cared for while\u0026nbsp;\n\ngently restrained. You know, wearing a collar and leash rather like a pet dog, crawling\u0026nbsp;\n\nbehind a person roleplaying a master, or learning to walk in the hobble chains, espec-\n\nially learning to balance with your wrists cuffed together behind your back.\n\n  \n\nIf you don't know how relaxing it is to just set aside your cares and let someone lead\u0026nbsp;\n\nyou around, please come to the hunt club and let us show you. I definitely enjoy being\u0026nbsp;\n\nleashed and led, and if you haven't seen a guy in a skunk costume, collared and\u0026nbsp;\n\nchained, walking carefully on leash, please get out more and enjoy.\n\n  \n\nNow it's true that I've also been the one leading a mascot, either male or female, and\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe skimpy briefs or bikinis certainly show their toned bare flesh nicely. I've even had\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe privilege of leading fully-dressed guests who want to try it for themselves.\n\n  \n\nSo you see that the MLHC is able to accommodate several layers of roleplay, with\u0026nbsp;\n\npeople acting as animals, as well as trainers, riders, and drivers. And yes we do let\u0026nbsp;\n\nguests wear their own swimsuits when it's warm enough, although their fake tails\u0026nbsp;\n\nare just belted on, for sanitation.\n\n  \n\nThere are also a few guests who come back for relaxation throughout the year, first\u0026nbsp;\n\nas mounted hunters. Then when they see the mascots, they're not sure how to handle\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe kinkiness of learning it's a person in a costume running along as hunt prey, just\u0026nbsp;\n\nbackground animals they don't shoot, or hunt dogs.\n\n  \n\nThe waiters and kitchen servers don't always wear costumes, and some of them even\u0026nbsp;\n\nwear street clothes, as I did when I first started. I've seen kitchen staff wearing bikinis\u0026nbsp;\n\nor briefs, some with fur trim, but I think there're some health code laws that prevent\u0026nbsp;\n\nfurry arms or legs, or animal heads.\n\n  \n\nOr chains, for that matter. Too restricting, I guess, and staff has to be able to balance\u0026nbsp;\n\nand see safely. But collars are ok, just no hanging leashes. I was very surprised the\u0026nbsp;\n\nfirst time I saw people wearing animal collars, just going about their kitchen duties\u0026nbsp;\n\nlike nothing was kinky.\n\n  \n\nBut quite soon it all became familiar as I stayed in the Hunt Club staff dorm and didn't\u0026nbsp;\n\nneed my street clothes, just the bikini briefs. I wear my collar, wrist and ankle cuffs\u0026nbsp;\n\ntoo, but not the close chains while I'm serving, just the loose wrist ones. I don't want\u0026nbsp;\n\nto risk losing my balance in the hobble, despite enjoying the restraint.\n\n  \n\nI often wear the briefs with fur trim, because I enjoy the tickle of the fake fur on my\u0026nbsp;\n\nmostly-bare skin. It's decent enough to let young children see, since the briefs cover\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe adult bits, and the fur hides the bulges. And our human feet have the slippers for\u0026nbsp;\n\ntraction.\n\n  \n\nThe women wear fur bras with chest ruffs so it's not a furry Hooters. At least, not with\u0026nbsp;\n\nchildren around. When they're done eating, and go out to play with adult supervision,\u0026nbsp;\n\nor later when they're supposed to be sleeping in their cabins, the ruffs sometimes\u0026nbsp;\n\ndisappear or get stuffed down the bras, still covering the cleavage.\u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n\nAfter all, this is the Main Line Hunt Club's semi-public dining room for guests, who\u0026nbsp;\n\nstay in cottages, and day-visitors, who don't. It's not a gentleman's club, that's a sep-\n\narate lounge with frosted windows and PG13 foyer.\n\n  \n\n~\n\n  \n\nI'd like to divert a bit here to discuss the adult lounge. It's actually a separate building\u0026nbsp;\n\nwith its own little grill, and a wraparound enclosed veranda with the PG13 foyer. Some\u0026nbsp;\n\nguests like to sit with their Significant Others, and we don't police who they choose\u0026nbsp;\n\nto associate with.\n\n  \n\nIt's only inside, once you get past the chaperones, that the more adult stuff occurs.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThat's where I like to work, bare-chested and bikini-briefed, and I'm indoors so I can\u0026nbsp;\n\ngo barefoot, bare-legged, bare-armed, with just the spiked collar, wrist and ankle cuffs,\u0026nbsp;\n\nand frequently the close wrist chains, hobble ankle chains, and sirik chain from my\u0026nbsp;\n\ncollar, down my bare chest and belly, to the ring joining my wrist chain, then down\u0026nbsp;\n\nalong my bare legs to a ring near my shins joining my hobble chain.\n\n  \n\nThere's a definite medieval vibe to the place, with low lighting and round columns,\u0026nbsp;\n\nlow tables and chairs, and us scantily-clad servers, both male and female roleplaying\u0026nbsp;\n\nfree servants in clothes, or indentured servants in cuffs and clothes, or even slaves\u0026nbsp;\n\nin briefs, cuffs, collars and chains.\n\n  \n\nThe cuffs and chains are blackened steel, to look like medieval iron, strong enough\u0026nbsp;\n\nto hold the roughest man but leaving steel for weapons. They're quite real, quite\u0026nbsp;\n\nlocked, quite inescapable. I really enjoy the feel of being collared, cuffed and chained,\u0026nbsp;\n\nbecause I can set aside my outside worries and responsibilities, give my cares to the\u0026nbsp;\n\nperson chaining me, and just relax to be indentured, or even a slave.\n\n  \n\nI'll even enjoy squirming around, trying to fight the chains, just to avoid insulting the\u0026nbsp;\n\nhandler's dominant power by being too easy. There are some Main Line Hunt Club\u0026nbsp;\n\nmascot roleplayers who actually seem to have difficulty resisting, like the guy who\u0026nbsp;\n\ncalls himself Kevin and who runs in the hunts as an American Red Fox.\n\n  \n\nHe comes into the adult lounge in fursuit, wearing a collar and leash like a pet dog,\u0026nbsp;\n\nled by a strong-willed woman who looks about forty. I know for a fact that Kevin likes\u0026nbsp;\n\nhis dog roleplay, even crawling behind the Mistress and only talking in dog whimpers.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut Lisa likes to tease him by making him walk upright with his wrists bound behind\u0026nbsp;\n\nhis back, the fursuit head hiding the big grin I've seen him wear.\n\n  \n\n~\n\n  \n\nAnother aspect of the servant/slave BDSM roleplay that tends to squick the mundanes\u0026nbsp;\n\nand new guests is that confident, self-centered, deeply heterosexual players set aside\u0026nbsp;\n\ntheir personalities, relax and let themselves flow with the scene. Even without fursuits,\u0026nbsp;\n\nthere's a definite theatrical aspect, which my college theater experience helps me when\u0026nbsp;\n\ngetting into role.\n\n  \n\nSometimes I come into the lounge wearing my skunksuit, because I've just been out\u0026nbsp;\n\nrunning as a background animal in a hunt. If you've never been served food and drink\u0026nbsp;\n\nby a guy dressed in black fur with a pair of white stripes from his neck down his back\u0026nbsp;\n\nand over his big bushy skunktail, I suggest you come over to the Main Line Hunt Club\u0026nbsp;\n\nand try us out.\n\n  \n\nOne of the times early in my employment at the adult lounge I asked for a set of large\u0026nbsp;\n\nirons to fit over my skunksuit. The blackened steel almost disappeared against the\u0026nbsp;\n\nblack fur, and it was fluffed up over the irons so the collar, wrist and ankle cuffs were\u0026nbsp;\n\npartly hidden.\n\n  \n\nThe man locking me up used spiked cuffs since they were large enough to fit over\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe fur and gave me a rough appearance, as if I was a new captive who hadn't sub-\n\nmitted to the bondage yet. It was just a role, and he kept asking for my consent. He\u0026nbsp;\n\nused a small driver to tighten the bolts holding my cuffs closed, and I was really\u0026nbsp;\n\nheld, unable to free myself.\n\n  \n\nI had to deeply trust the man chaining me, because the steel would hold me even if\u0026nbsp;\n\nthis was real captivity and I might struggle hard to free myself. He wasn't the only\u0026nbsp;\n\nman in the dressing (also undressing, for a role) room, and with the binding rings\u0026nbsp;\n\non my collar and cuffs they could really restrain me spread out to various stone\u0026nbsp;\n\ncolumns and force me to endure whatever perverted pain they wanted to apply.\n\n  \n\nI was terrified for real the first time men locked me up and spread me out. I was\u0026nbsp;\n\ncompletely helpless, and although I had roleplayed a servant with a few of them,\u0026nbsp;\n\nthey were now gripping my arms to closely chain them, and the fact was although\u0026nbsp;\n\nthey didn't use locks, I was unable to bend my hands enough to unclip my wrists.\n\n  \n\nAnd the cuffs were too tightly held to let me use one hand to free the other. They even\n\nput a black bondage hood over my eyes so I couldn't see, but I found out soon enough\u0026nbsp;\n\nwhen they removed it later to hood Bill and Sue, and lead them out chained as a pair of\u0026nbsp;\n\ncaptured skunks.\n\n  \n\nI don't know what it is about the folks that roleplay skunks, but we tend to enjoy a bit\u0026nbsp;\n\nof rough treatment. Maybe it's to brag that we can take it, even the women like Sue.\n\nI frankly believe she got her brother involved in the BDSM LARP, not the man first.\n\n  \n\nI suspected that our handlers were grinning widely, but with the hood over my eyes I\u0026nbsp;\n\ncouldn't see. I felt the heavy material drawn up over my head and down, adjusted to\u0026nbsp;\n\nfit me closely without pulling my hair, and tucked under my spiked collar.\n\n  \n\nI forgot to mention that with the hood, I wasn't wearing the fursuit skunkhead. I had\u0026nbsp;\n\ntried to complain about being headless, because it was, after all, a part of the mascot\u0026nbsp;\n\nlook. But the hood had been preceded by a gag shaped like a big man's cock, and it\u0026nbsp;\n\nwas drawn tightly back and buckled behind my neck.\n\n  \n\nI think I mentioned that skunks like it rough, and the men held me tightly while I was\u0026nbsp;\n\nchained, gagged, and hooded, and the fake cock was so thick and long I was preoc-\n\ncupied with avoiding my throat's attempt to reject it.\n\n  \n\nIt was while I was pushing on the oddly-shaped invader with my tongue, and working\u0026nbsp;\n\nmy jaw to relieve some stress from the thickness, that I noticed the tangy mango\u0026nbsp;\n\nflavor and the thick cream filling my mouth. It tasted good, and I swallowed. I was\u0026nbsp;\n\nled, pulling me against the hobble chains to remind me how tightly I was held, unable\u0026nbsp;\n\nto see, speak or hear in that hood.\u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n\nI was too afraid of these men and their rough handling to struggle against the chains,\u0026nbsp;\n\nor even squirm. I walked carefully in the hobble and had to trust they would lead me\u0026nbsp;\n\naround the low tables and tall columns, not hurt me by making me walk into a stone\u0026nbsp;\n\ncolumn or trip over a table.\n\n  \n\n~\n\n  \n\nI suppose that if I were really a medieval captive they would be a lot rougher and hurt\u0026nbsp;\n\nme until I begged to obey them. As it was, the cuffs and chains held me even if I\u0026nbsp;\n\nstruggled, and the handlers pulled me along by the chain leash until I settled down\u0026nbsp;\n\nand followed meekly.\n\n  \n\nThey led me up to a stone column, and I expected them to release the close chain, but\u0026nbsp;\n\nfirst I felt a new chain clipped to my right wrist cuff. I still felt intimidated by their hand-\n\nling of the blindfolded skunk, and forgot to fight when they unclipped my wrists, held\u0026nbsp;\n\nmy right wrist, pulled my left around the column, and clipped the chain to my left wrist.\n\n  \n\nI was held helpless with my wrists chained, and the column was thick enough I couldn't\u0026nbsp;\n\nget my hands together even to feel the bondage. They chained my ankles spread out the\u0026nbsp;\n\nsame careful way, the thick stone holding my ankles apart and unable to move. With a\u0026nbsp;\n\nflourish, the bondage hood was opened and removed, leaving me humiliated chained\u0026nbsp;\n\nwrist and ankle with the fake cock filling my mouth and the mango-flavored cream\u0026nbsp;\n\nmaking me feel relaxed.\n\n  \n\nThen they put the costume skunkhead on me and closed it around my neck, tucking it\u0026nbsp;\n\nunder my spiked collar. The chain leash hung down my chest, but swung up to a hook\u0026nbsp;\n\nwhile a tight chain held my collar to the column. I was a chained captive skunkboy in\u0026nbsp;\n\na medieval-themed room with roleplay servants, indentured, and slaves.\n\n  \n\nThen I saw Sue being led up to the stage by Bill. Both were dressed in their usual bikini\u0026nbsp;\n\nbriefs with added see-thru tops covering their arms, and pantaloons down to their\u0026nbsp;\n\nankles. Then a pair of people dressed as gray foxes came up and began playing an\u0026nbsp;\n\noud and a tamborine.\n\n  \n\nThe music reminded me of middle-eastern belly-dance restaurants I've eaten in. I'm\u0026nbsp;\n\npretty sure I wasn't the only one mesmerised by Bill and Sue's well-coordinated undu-\n\nlating. While some of the guests were obviously enjoying the novelty of a scantily-\n\nclad man up there waving his arms and shaking his legs, I was admiring Sue's frankly\u0026nbsp;\n\nsensuous motions.\n\n  \n\nOne of the men guests came up to me and slid around the column behind me. I felt\u0026nbsp;\n\nhim pull on my wrists and whisper \"good boy\" as he tested that I was securely held.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen he tested my ankles, satisfied I was well and truly held. Then I felt his hands\u0026nbsp;\n\nstroking my slippers and feeling up my furry shins.\n\n  \n\nI don't know if he was gay or enjoying the fur, but I didn't resist his fondling my feet,\u0026nbsp;\n\nheels and ankles, his hands gliding over the steel fetters to continue up my shins\u0026nbsp;\n\nand calves. He slid over my knees, one hand on each, and I got the distinct impres-\n\nsion this man was quite used to feeling a chained captive.\n\n  \n\nHe whispered that I was one of the few males he'd touched, and I was scared that he\u0026nbsp;\n\nwas allowed to feel me up in public. I was definitely creeped out and afraid to resist.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe hadn't chained me, but was testing my submission as he fondled my furry cos-\n\ntume and rubbed it on my flesh.\n\n  \n\nHis hands started up my thighs. I couldn't take any more, and tried to jump away. All\u0026nbsp;\n\nI did was hurt my ankles on the tight chains, and he gripped my collar past the spikes,\u0026nbsp;\n\npulled me close, and slapped me on the costume head. I was still gagged, and he\u0026nbsp;\n\nroughly moved the fake cock, reminding me of his total control over me.\n\n  \n\nHe squeezed something at the outside end, and mango cream flooded my mouth. He\u0026nbsp;\n\ntold me to swallow, and squeezed my mouth full again when I obeyed. I felt a wave\u0026nbsp;\n\nof calm relaxation flow over me, and I belatedly realised I was being drugged.\u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n\n~\n\n  \n\nI'd told the MLHC owners I was willing to roleplay an anthro skunk, and also to let\u0026nbsp;\n\nthem treat me rather roughly. I was relating the story of one of my early times in the\u0026nbsp;\n\nadult lounge, not the actual first, and I've gone along with some of the captive role-\n\nplay in the public lounge.\n\n  \n\nWhile I'm wearing the skunksuit, my handlers are careful not to damage the fur, and\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe support suit protects my human skin while reducing the impact of slaps. I've let\u0026nbsp;\n\nthem feed me the mango juice before, and allowed it to relax me. I wasn't mistreated.\n\n  \n\nNow with the big mouth ring and the fake cock, I couldn't talk; I could barely grunt,\u0026nbsp;\n\nand any objections were quite effectively muffled. I knew the taste and the effect\u0026nbsp;\n\nof the mango, and I tried to struggle against the cock cream before I was made\u0026nbsp;\n\nrelaxed. I thought that a gay man would be more accepting of the gag and the fake\u0026nbsp;\n\nsemen, but I was heterosexual and still am.\n\n  \n\nThis guest was treating me like a medieval captive; not roughly but feeling me up my\u0026nbsp;\n\nfur without regard to my humiliation. As I slid into calmness, I was aware that I was\u0026nbsp;\n\nhidden by the skunksuit, and nobody would recognise my human head. And with two\u0026nbsp;\n\nother skunk-players in the lounge, I was anonymous in my bondage.\n\n  \n\nThe skunkhead muffled the lounge music, and I knew that my handlers had padded\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe earholes. I forgot to object to the guest fondling my skunkfur, and let his hands\u0026nbsp;\n\nflow up my knees to my thighs again. If you've never submitted to a man clipping\u0026nbsp;\n\nyour close wrist chains and hobble ankle chains around a stone column, please\u0026nbsp;\n\ncome to the Hunt Club adult lounge and let the handlers show you a good time.\n\n  \n\nI started to enjoy the feel of the man's hands on my body. Hey, pleasure is pleasure,\u0026nbsp;\n\nand since both of us were anonymous, no harm, no foul. He went about halfway up\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe front of my thighs, then I felt a second pair of hands squeeze the outside and\u0026nbsp;\n\ntravel up toward my hips.\n\n  \n\nI heard an unknown feminine giggle that I was sure was a second guest, then another\u0026nbsp;\n\npump of the fake cock and a big dose of the mango cream. I hadn't seen how big the\u0026nbsp;\n\nstorage bag was, and I wasn't sure if the spiked black-steel collar was used to hang\u0026nbsp;\n\nit. She rubbed my throat inside the fur, and I swallowed all the mango she wanted to\u0026nbsp;\n\nfeed me.\n\n  \n\nI wasn't so relaxed as to have any trouble keeping my legs straight. I felt another chain\u0026nbsp;\n\ngo around my hips and hold them tightly to the column. Then another around my waist\u0026nbsp;\n\nand a third around my chest. I was kept wondering why they felt they needed three\u0026nbsp;\n\nmore tight chains, but I couldn't breathe deeply, and I hadn't agreed to breath play.\n\n  \n\n~\n\n  \n\nI felt her grab my costume muzzle and push it to my left and up. I saw a leather harness\u0026nbsp;\n\ngo over my muzzle, up and over my head, buckled tightly in back. She pumped the fake\u0026nbsp;\n\ncock in my mouth, and my mind started to go all squishy from the mango cream and\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe exciting bondage.\n\n  \n\nImagine if you will, a 23-year-old man wearing a skimpy men's bikini, a body-hugging\u0026nbsp;\n\nundersuit, a skunk-shaped fursuit with costume head and a fake cock gag. I squirmed\u0026nbsp;\n\nand pulled against unseen multiple chains including my wrists and ankles, and now I\u0026nbsp;\n\nwas muzzled. I didn't want to insult their dominance over me by being too easy, but\u0026nbsp;\n\nthere was very little room to show resistance.\n\n  \n\nAnd the tasty mango cream pumped into my mouth by two unseen guests had me\u0026nbsp;\n\nswallowing helplessly and feeling really good. It wasn't an act when I stopped strug-\n\ngling and sank against the chains, unable to stay standing. My captors had won, and\u0026nbsp;\n\nI was completely at their mercy.\n\n  \n\nThe two guests took turns feeling up my body, from mid-thigh around my helpless\u0026nbsp;\n\nrump and hips, making me groan in lust and stiffen inside my bikini. Another muffled\u0026nbsp;\n\ngiggle and dominant grope of my groin meant the woman had noticed my helpless\u0026nbsp;\n\nsubmission.\n\n  \n\nMy mind felt so squishy and compliant that I couldn't help leaning against her in my\u0026nbsp;\n\nmultiple chains and rubbing my costume muzzle on her shoulder. She accepted my\u0026nbsp;\n\naffection for a few seconds before rubbing my chest and over my shoulders. The\u0026nbsp;\n\nmind-clouding lust in my loins cleared partially as the center of my pleasure moved\u0026nbsp;\n\nand I felt two other hands slide from my rump to my fake tail.\n\n  \n\nI began to beg into the fake cock. If the man groped my skunktail, the anchor would\u0026nbsp;\n\nwriggle around my fundament and I would lose control of my own cream inside the\u0026nbsp;\n\nbikini. It would be very embarrassing, although only I would know, since the skunksuit\u0026nbsp;\n\nkept me anonymous.\n\n  \n\nBut then everyone in the adult BDSM lounge would learn of my embarrassment as\u0026nbsp;\n\nsoon as the costume head was removed, and my helpless animal response would\u0026nbsp;\n\nbecome evident when the rest of my skunk costume was removed out from under\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe chains.\n\n  \n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"HumanFox","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1805250-vixen-hunt-2.json"}}