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“Get Jocked, Nerd”

by dolphinsanity

for FoxLightning on FurAffinity

~~~~~~

[b][u]Intro: A Nice Package?[/u][/b]

The otter delivery guy handed a bubble-mailer envelope to the human. “Take care, now!” he said jovially, before wandering off down the apartment building’s corridor.

The human, Ryan -- currently clad in a white tee and knee-length camo shorts -- waved politely to the ott’s retreating form. Not having expected the package, nor for it to be hand-delivered all the way to his door, he glanced at the return address.

“Rho Alpha Omega Fraternity Benefits?” he read under his breath.

He hadn’t been part of any frat in his university days… moreover, [i]that[/i] one was widely understood to be for male [i]anthros[/i], and he was alas very much a human. He could still remember the graffiti on that one wall behind the campus’s administrative center, where someone had cleverly made the Greek letters lowercase, making the name look a lot like “paw.” Even its own members sometimes verbalized the nickname.

Honestly, calling it the “paw” frat made a lot more sense in plain English… and put the focus on one of its more attractive selling points, if Ryan was honest… paws hitting sunbaked pavement, pads kicking up high as they ran…

Sighing, he removed his thoughts from those memories of anthros running track and forced himself to deal with the current issue: [i]why[/i] was someone from “paw” sending him a package?

He assumed “mistake” or “prank” in that order of likelihood, but he took it into his studio apartment and plopped down on the couch to see about it.

Fifteen seconds of package surgery later, Ryan had a lilac-colored jockstrap in his hands.

“What,” he said flatly, before chuckling and turning it around. It was neatly folded within an unmarked plastic sleeve and smelled clean -- a bit of that packaging smell, but not too much.

Judging by the stitchwork connecting the black waistband to the pale-violet main fabric, he wondered if this was some kind of partially homemade thing -- like if one of the frat members or alums liked to order the crotch pieces and the waistbands from mass producers and then finish the strap by sewing them together at home. Kind of a weird personal touch, but it would make sense enough given the source.

After getting it out of the sleeve and deeming it clean enough for closer inspection, he unfolded it and looked it over, seeing if he’d find a fraternity logo in the fabric. Interestingly, there wasn’t, though he did remember this color was relatively popular with their group.

It was at that point, on a second inspection of the packing envelope, that he found a rectangular slip of white printer paper he had missed before. It looked hand-cut, with the slice imperfectly horizontal. On it was printed a strangely oriented message in bold uppercase:

[b]HEY NERD[/b]

(and then below it, upside down)

[b]WHY NOT ENJOY LIFE[/b]

There was no punctuation.

He flipped the envelope over. Checking the return address again, he saw that it was for some far-flung fulfillment center in an entirely different region of the country from the university he had attended. Okay, so not the local campus.

He confirmed that it was in fact, addressed to [i]him[/i].

He tossed the envelope aside, watching it spin frisbee-like until it collided with the nearby wall and flopped softly to the floor.

He scrunched his face, looking doubtingly down at the jockstrap.

The fact he was currently bored on a Friday afternoon was not lost on him… and there wasn’t anything suspicious about the thing that could be sniffed, felt, or seen, so there was that.

…Was this [i]really[/i] just someone who knew of him from his old campus trying to get him to come out of his shell more? Though, he couldn’t imagine who. Most of the people from that frat had been kind of… [i]more fratty[/i] than average… and a lot of the guys were jocks from the multispecies sports teams.

Okay, fine. Cool. Time to cast doubts to the wind and try the thing on, because it was the only [i]new[/i] thing happening today, and someone apparently wanted him to do it.

He did a quick strip of his lower garments, stepped out of the shorts and undies, and stepped into the jockstrap, pulling it up carefully and placing his circumcised human package in that lilac junk-hammock. He became aware that it was sized for someone a fair bit larger-hung than him… not that he was tiny, but, compared to some anthros, he was rather plain in that department. He wondered if maybe this was meant for one of those horse track stars, or perhaps a really large canid. He imagined some sort of burly arctic wolf.

It was definitely… roomy, as he walked around. Honestly, if he did sports in this, it might ride around too much on his junk to be pleasant. The last thing he wanted from a jock strap was irregular chafing from it being [i]too big[/i].

Then, for one inexplicable moment, there was a strange blip of… electricity? Something? An energy that ran through him like a small jolt.

It didn’t hurt, but he had a vivid moment of recollection -- something that sort of took him out of his present body for a moment, back to himself from more than a decade ago.

He remembered a game he used to play with one of his human friends, where they would ask each other what type of anthro they would be if they were something [i]other[/i] than human. Ryan had thought a fox would fit himself best, because it really matched his body type and also his personality -- not too forceful and not too meek, kind of okay with just existing and taking life as it came, both in the fun parts and the stressful parts.

And then his friend had been like, “That’s super lame. I’d be an eight-foot tall dragon with muscles for DAYS.”

…Hey, to each their own, he figured. Still, the memory made him briefly wonder what a fantasy-roided fox would even look like… or [i]act[/i] like. What would all that testosterone and muscle-mindedness do to a mind that was normally so easygoing?

He felt a weird jolt in his dick -- like if it was spasming to cum, but with no pleasure, happening only once, and not producing much movement.

His moment of reverie ended. He was alert and aware of himself again, and everything seemed… normal enough?

At that point, Ryan realized he had been spacing out while walking around… and that the strap had gotten kind of… [i]extra-snugged[/i] around his genitals. He felt over them for a second, briefly entertaining the illusion that they might randomly be larger, but nope -- the cloth had just scrunched up around them, maybe because he gave it too much of an inward tug while thinking about that stuff.

He chalked it up to his habit of daydreaming, not thinking much else of it. He took off the jockstrap, taking care not to get the waistband or leg straps too twisted up as he removed and re-folded it. If he was going to use this, he wanted it tidy. Could be fun to have on a date, especially something more adventurous, like if he went out hiking with a cute guy who wanted to cuddle out in nature.

He then remembered that he should probably give it a wash regardless, so he put with the rest of his laundry and gathered up a few scattered socks and things that hadn’t yet made it there.

Some minutes later, Ryan began the time-honored weekend ritual of running a load of clothes through his building’s communal laundry room.

* * *

[b][u]The Difficult Fap[/u][/b]

Laundry went fine, as did the rest of the night. Some chatting, some games, but nothing big.

All fairly dull, honestly.

When a glance at the time showed 12:57 a.m., he figured it was time to [i]try[/i] sleeping, even though he felt too awake for it.

As predicted, sleep refused to come, so Ryan decided to try cumming. Like most men his age, he knew afterglow was a proven sleep aid.

He remained on his back at first, playing with his uncut dick under the bed covers, giving it a slow and rolling massage to wake it up from zero mast. Before long, the familiar feelings of well-being set in, and the urge to keep stroking himself increased.

Though, he noticed it wasn’t great. Maybe he’d been pawing too much lately.

…Pawing. There he went again, thinking in anthro slang.

He wasn’t getting all that hard all that quickly, so he juiced it up a little… thinking about the process of his hand turning into an anthro hand-paw, the palm getting leathery and the tips developing similar pad spots. He imagined a ruddy red “glove” pattern of fur forming over the hand and out to the wrist, but browner on the fingers -- all while ducky golden outer fur and soft white inner fur spread up the arm. He imagined feeling his dick pressurizing with a rush of blood flow and energy -- foreskin peeling down into a canine sheath while his penis darkened and narrowed, its base swelling with a broadly lobed canine knot… with a bolt of lightning near the tip, just because!

Mmm, that was it… nice and big now. Almost achy in his foreskin. Nice cock, grow big for the fantasies of being a sexy anthro instead of a human… a nice, inquisitive, fun-loving foxxo…

As he thought about that, the pleasure that had been starting to build up… dulled. It wasn’t gone, but it really wasn’t as good as usual.

He muttered to himself, telling his body, “Come [i]on[/i]…!”

His dick, however, was just not feeling it… which was odd. He couldn’t remember the last time it felt this… almost [i]numb[/i]?

He tried thinking about the feet… meaty, luscious paws, waggling their thick toes at him in the mirror, and that pushed him a [i]little[/i] further, but it was a slog.

When he eventually paused from his efforts, he had a weird spasm. Something way down in his groin had clenched up, causing his penis to bulge momentarily before sagging a little.

Had he just… drygasmed? Or had that been something else? He didn’t really feel much pleasure…

He felt two more small contractions of his PC muscles -- no happy hits from those. They weren’t timed like orgasmic contractions either, but more randomly. Once a few had happened, he felt “done”: his arousal silently drained like water from a bathtub, and his member went flaccid. A little pre drooled from the end, but that was it.

The mood was gone. His penis was going into its softest and smallest state, from which it would be difficult for him to get hard again.

Dang… [i]had[/i] he been pawing too much lately? Jerking it… whatever.

Now more annoyed than anything, and still too awake to sleep, Ryan got up and figured he’d try showering. The cozy warmth might help him get to sleep… and he kind of [i]needed[/i] it anyway, even if he had originally been planning to do that in the morning.

He saw the grumpy pout on his own face as he passed his bathroom mirror. Someone could have drawn anime grumble-squiggles over his head and it would’ve fit right in.

Ignoring that, he turned on the shower to let it warm up -- stripped his pajamas, and inserted his bare, furless human body into the stream.

Warm water [i]good[/i].

Strangely, his pelvic floor kept flexing every now and then, his cock doing “penis ups” or Kegel exercises on its own. With some mental effort, he was able to stop the reaction from happening, but it created a felt pressure -- like he had to express the urge eventually, or it would bottle up and burst.

Once he got out of the shower, however, the twitching impulse went away.

…Weird.

* * *

[b][u]The Difficult Sleep[/u][/b]

“What a wimp, man…”

Ryan opened his eyes to see his penis. It was hard, the tip of it almost in reach of his mouth. He was posed pretzel-like on his bed, leaning back with his legs over his head, like the times when he had tried to perform autofellatio (and discovered that the flexibility required was substantial).

He smelled it: the slightest hint of his own musk.

He tried to lick it, but the shaft seemed to pull away from him, lifting up to evade his tongue as if it had a mind and mobility of its own.

Then the glans bent toward him slightly, the urethra moving as if it had a sideways mouth, with the right side of the opening serving as the stand-in for a lower jaw.

“You still think you can satisfy me with a quick handy or a blow? I’m done waiting for your nerd ass. If you’re not ready to do what’s necessary to grab life by the balls and make it ass-pregnant, then move over, cause [i]I[/i] am.”

Okay, [i]now[/i] Ryan was just confused. His cock was [i]talking[/i] to him, berating him for not being enough of a go-getter and using crude fetish talk to do it.

As he watched, his raunchy-mouthed member was also increasing in size: slowly but surely, like a club that was aspiring to become as big as a tree-limb, as it continued to rant at him:

“Like usual, you have nothing to say. You know I’m right, bro. Why don’t you have it all? Because you limit me. You don’t let me get hard and go into the right people. I’m done with living under a lazy tyrant who won’t give me the blood flow to go fuck my way up the ladder. DONE, ya hear me, man!?”

The growth had accelerated during the tirade. It felt heavy, but Ryan couldn’t put his hind-end down fully, and was forced to watch in bafflement as his dick grew broader, longer -- comically expanding toward the wall and ceiling behind him.

Despite his member’s aggression, he felt passive, like the situation was too mystifying for a response. He idly wondered how much longer the growth would keep going.

“Give it up, whiny boy! Let’s rub all that nerd jizz out, and I’ll turn your life upside down!” The voice was shouting from above him now.

Ryan felt it bump the wall, something moist and warm leaking from within. His heart raced as a deep, unrequested pleasure started twinging inside him, like some sort of tiny electro-stim toy near his prostate.

There was a surge of horniness, enough that he would have wanted to jerk it, but his body wouldn’t move. He felt himself breathing -- steadily, deeply…

Wait, was he [i]dreaming[/i]?

* * *

Ryan awoke to find his head toward the foot of the bed and his butt and groin elevated. He had somehow pulled, or maybe hook-kicked, his pillow toward the bed’s center, and managed to land his butt and upper thighs atop it. He also had an erection tenting his pajamas, and it was still deep in the night.

What a weird way to toss and turn. This must be a first for him, doing a flat 180 and moving his pillow so strangely in the process. Maybe his odd body position had somehow induced that dream.

He shook his head and rolled over, righting himself to his usual snoozing position. That was when it finally occurred to him that he was more than merely erect; he was rock hard and leaking. He felt the substantial moist spot where his glans pressed against his pajamas.

Go figure. Where was that enthusiasm when he had been in the shower? Dicks could be so temperamental…

He thought about rubbing it the rest of the way out -- but, thinking back over the dream, he decided he wasn’t in the mood. Instead, he turned over, facedown, flopping his head across the pillow in a note of annoyance.

After a few minutes of his cock staying obstinately hard and sending him “touch me” signals that went ignored, he finally went flaccid. From there, he slowly and boringly settled back into that cozy, snoozy state.

* * *

Ryan had a strange, visuals-free dream of being in darkness, feeling himself bob and jostle inside some sort of warm, loosely encompassing fabric. He felt the steady sways: left, right, left, right. Then he felt a cessation of motion and soon experienced something new: something rubbing over him, a hand kneading softly over his body, the sensations making him feel a strange, alerted rush.

He was warm… this hot, swelling feeling going through him. It was so weird but it felt good, like if a swollen blister could feel nice instead of achy, and [i]that[/i] was him all over…

He was sliding against something. Cloth, repeatedly, the fabric not really gliding -- catching on his body, even as got thrust forward again and again… some sort of good feeling growing behind and below him, tingling up into him…

Then he found himself thinking, crudely and simplistically: [i]I have to nut, I have to nut, I have to nut!![/i]

He awoke with a gasp, finding his forearms and elbows under his chest for support, his hips humping uncontrollably at the bed, his pajama bottoms warm against his cock.

The glow of orgasm was [i]right there[/i], ready to spark, and his body was determined to get it.

Out of nowhere, he imagined huge, sexy, black-bottomed fox anthro paws -- pressing on his face, the creases between the beans mooshing down around his nose, over his cheeks…

He lost it. Moaning, he shot the most aggressive, prostate-milking load he had made in a long while, the contractions going on for several extra cycles, with waves of spasmodic tightness hitting him inside. It left him feeling drained dry, yet also like he simultaneously needed to pee. The muscle groups down there were all worked up, probably squeezing on his bladder…

After a confused few minutes of dragging himself to the bathroom, taking care of that issue, and washing his hands, cock, and face, he wondered to himself what the heck was up with him. At this point he wondered if that jockstrap had been laced with some sort of… contact hallucinogen or something.

The idea was a reach, but he wasn’t sure what else made sense. These were not normal dreams for him, nor did he normally have issues stopping himself from fucking his pajamas to climax.

He gave up on his nutted pajamas as a lost cause, dropping them into his freshly emptied laundry basket before settling for some fresh boxer briefs and one of his pairs of camo shorts.

It was already 4:00 a.m., and he could tell getting back to sleep wasn’t going to be easy. Might as well get up and make the most of it.

Besides, it beat having another dream about his cock talking down to him, or feeling like he [i]was[/i] his cock.

* * *

[b][u]The Topsy-Turvy Transformation[/u][/b]

Ryan had some coffee, got dressed normally (fresh camo shorts and a thin white tee), and washed the coffee down with a bit of water -- in that order. He put his pajamas aside, somewhat carelessly, and put his phone and empty coffee mug on the coffee table near the sofa.

He was just about to sit down to play a video game when the bizarreness of the night played its last and greatest card: with no warning, Ryan’s body [i]seized up[/i]. A wave of muscle contractions and relaxations ran through him, making him feel like some cosmic force had just treated him like a wet squeegee.

Then, he heard two derisive words in his thoughts:

[b][i]Gotcha, nerd![/i][/b]

A weirder, [i]slower[/i] wave of distortion flowed over Ryan, making him feel momentarily like one of those paper-cutout characters in an animated movie, or like he was a 2D entity being manipulated by some mischievous 3D artist.

The feeling passed, and he heard a collection of voices he didn’t recognize in his head say, [i]Paws up for Rho Alpha Omega! Heads down and dicks up![/i]

It was like some kind of communal chant, the same way a group might quickly recite a motto before starting some kind of event. It sounded like the sort of thing the paw frat might have actually said -- except Ryan wouldn’t know, due to never having been at any of their events.

…Well, that settled it: he was either off-his-rocker [i]nutbar[/i] at the moment, or something paranormal was [i]actually[/i] happening. At this stage he almost didn’t care which it was, so long as he got to learn the truth of it soon and get it over with.

That feeling of distortion returned, but gentler, and he sort of regained control of his body. Except two things were immediately strange: his cock was getting hard, but also feeling progressively more numb -- like a big lump in his shorts, which he could feel mainly because of the pressure it exerted on the rest of his midriff as it tented against what he was wearing. Even those sensations dulled, however, as the situation proceeded.

When he tried to focus on his cock and feel it like normal, he instead felt a weird and confused rush of thoughts about sports -- running -- athletic and body-image aspirations. It was like trying to focus on his dick’s sensations was now a direct line into some other way of thinking, which didn’t make sense [i]at all[/i], even if it kind of had some things in common with his earlier, abused-by-dick dreams.

Then a heavier wave of that distorted feeling hit him, and his muscles spasmed again. He felt that squishing, wrung-out quality once more, getting just a little dizzy as a crawling sensation spread all over his skin.

“Nnngh…!!”

So much was going on at once that at first Ryan wasn’t sure [i]what[/i] he was feeling. The most immediate sensation was that [i]everything was angled wrong[/i], like the way one might feel upon waking up and discovering that one had somehow pinned one’s ankle or foot in some bizarre position beneath oneself, and subsequently had to stretch it out to first wake it up and then get its sensation and range of motion back to normal… [i]except[/i], he now felt that way about literally every extremity and somewhat about his torso too. He had the strangest feeling like his breastbone was trying to sink, and his hips creep upward… what [i]was[/i] this?

Secondarily… he could swear his hair was being sucked back inside his body. His scalp felt itchy as the hair rapidly un-grew, and he could feel the slight prickles of some of his human body hair [i]also[/i] being reabsorbed, leaving him smooth and clean for whatever shenanigans were about to unfold.

Then came the moist, squelching sounds and creaking -- popping bones, which told him something more serious was happening. He saw and felt his viewpoint rising, his neck lengthening and the sides of his head flattening inward. There was a wrenching discomfort inside himself at the same time, like his internal organs and even the bones were somehow starting to wander, though he wasn’t sure [i]how[/i].

The most surreal part about it was that it didn’t hurt in the [i]oh gods I’m dying[/i] way, but mostly felt like a heat and series of pressures that kept rising, shifting, and rotating -- parts of his insides stretching, contorting, and sometimes shrinking away or growing out. The sounds and sensations were spreading into his arms and legs, which he was already rolling and twisting because they just felt so… [i]off[/i].

[b]Pulse…![/b]

His neck underwent a greater growth spurt, gaining inches of length. The quality of the sounds he could hear [i]changed[/i], becoming muffled as his ears flattened against the side of his elongating, narrowing head. There was a rushing sensation as air pressure left them... then a muffling as the ears sealed over entirely. Then, weirdly, he could immediately hear again perfectly -- as if he still had them.

A desperate and confused bit of self-touch confirmed that his head and neck were getting hot and puffy. He felt the skull softening, his throat tightening and his cheeks feeling somehow both sucked in internally and puffed-up outside. More blood pressure rushed into his head, accompanied by a pleasant pulsation that he could feel down into his chest. He felt a swelling pressure that was bizarrely like getting an erection, but up into his neck and face…

With an effort that required pitching his spine forward because of how much stiffer his neck was getting, he looked down at his hands -- watching them bulk up, [i]paw pads[/i] forming on them as they got bigger, the fingers stiffer, the wrist structure arching up and the arm twisting at the elbow, turning the joint until it was facing forward…

A strange elation rushed through him, in spite of everything. Could he be… turning into his fox self? Into “Lightning,” as he had dubbed the guy?

Those first clues of change were as much as he saw before his neck spasmed and straightened more -- forcing his perspective “directly ahead,” which was, [i]for some reason[/i], now up toward the ceiling. He felt his neck getting longer, hotter… and yet somehow compressing on itself as it firmed up…!? Denser, denser! The bones around his eye sockets were softening, his lips feeling tingly and funny as they formed into a simple tiny “o” shape, losing their ability to emote or pucker.

“Hrrrp!?” he cried out, his increasingly beady-small eyes feeling funny too, bringing blurs and irregularities to his vision as whatever was going on progressed with haste.

At the same time, something at his waist was feeling heavy. There was that weird numbness in his groin -- but, despite it, he could feel the pressure of something bulging out down there… spreading and parting his thighs, the girth of it rigid as it expanded. The way the sides of it bulged out… could it be? Was he… growing some kind of giga-sized, mega-knotted--

--But he could swear he felt [i]fur[/i] growing on both sides of whatever his cock was transforming into. What kind of knot had fur directly on it? Was it [i]stuck[/i] in the sheath!? Oh, he [i]hoped[/i] not -- if this was [i]really[/i] a transformation, the last thing he wanted would be for his sheath to get stuck all tight and--

He wobbled and nearly fell over, thus driving his attention to his feet and leg posture. His toes were spreading… lengthening, growing more dexterous. Meanwhile, the ankles felt less sure, their range of motion shifting more like wrists as he stumbled about, starting to feel himself getting [i]really[/i] top-heavy. As his fingers up top felt increasingly compressed and tight, his hands filled his shoes like mitts.

Wait. Fingers, hands… he had two sets of hands!! He was all hands!!

Puffier, swelling, pulsating to the rhythm of his heart rate -- his knees inverting, bending like new elbows. He felt these strange new hands filling his shoes: bigger, meatier, something strong and hot inside them that needed to break free. He could feel the steady increments of growth, muscles filling out up his new legs… [i]arms[/i]… and strengthening the hands in their struggle to break free of the human footwear.

At that point he realized he was basically doing a handstand -- and lost his balance, pitching backward.

His [i]former[/i] hands rushed doward to “catch” him, and the angles at which they landed should have been bad for his wrists, which were undergoing a painful 180-degree twisting. Contrary to expectation, the landing felt [i]natural[/i], almost helping to twist those extremities of his into place. As he flexed and tested them, they grew larger and longer… more angled and with big tendons -- the toes thickening up longer, broader, smooth leathery surfaces growing in on the underside…

Wait. Toes. [i]Paws…!![/i]

He shuffled his weight to get his new feet under him, and his shoed hands continued to grow in claustrophobic distress.

With a clenching of his fists and a flex of those arms, his new anthro-fox hands split those shoes open, a loud series of pops heralding the way they perforated the soles from the fabric casing. With his head forced upward like it was, he couldn’t see it well, but he could feel his new fingers spreading through, almost with a mind of their own as they raked their claws over the carpet.

Meanwhile, his neck kept obstinately…

Twisting forward, [i]under[/i] him, between his new thighs…

…[i]Why[/i] did he feel a draft on his butthole, [i]and why was his butthole at the back of his neck!?[/i]

The draft was then sheltered by something else erupting into existence above where that crack was forming: a long, golden fox tail with a red accent ring just before the fluffy white tip-tufts.

It… it really was the colors he had once imagined himself with, back when he would daydream about what it would be like to be a vulpine. The red ring was the telltale bit, differentiating it from the rest. Which also meant he’d be developing a column of brown fur down the center of his back, a bright red border separating the white of his torso and abdomen from the golden fur that covered the rest of his back and much of his face and limbs… and [i]also[/i]…

His enlarged toes (formerly fingers!) wiggled. [i]Also[/i], he had [i]paws[/i] now!

As his perspective settled into a strangely dangling position, he comforted himself knowing he could look down and to either side and see his new foxy knees (steadily in the process of getting carpeted over with golden fur) and his new [i]paws[/i], thick brown toes and ruddy red-brown up to the ankle, matching the hands. Every motion was like a dream come true, feeling those huge stompers move under his command… though he really needed to finish changing so he could get a fuller look at the rest of him.

He distinctly noticed that his ribcage was undeveloping -- transforming right out of existence, now with only three softened rows left and steadily fading, replaced by the new muscles of his fox abs… which felt, oddly, kind of [i]buff[/i]. In fact, most of him was feeling bigger than he might have expected…

There was a mirrored structural expansion and tightening toward his arms… new ribs expanding out there, defining bigger shoulders for him, straining his shorts which for the moment were still containing them.

That was also when he realized there was something heavy hanging behind where his head had once been, and where his perspective was still apparently anchored. Whatever it was felt heavy, and was filling with a greater weight as the seconds passed. Two lumpy masses, couching the warmth of his strangely transformed, cylinder-like head. The masses felt like a pair of big meatballs… but with fur steadily growing in over their surface, even as his head’s skin remained bare and felt increasingly swollen and sensitive. He felt his face getting even longer, stiffer, hotter, tighter…

[i]Oh no.[/i]

The slightest twinge of fear set in. It occurred to Ryan again that he had ceased feeling anything from his penis a bit ago, his happy-stick lost in his sensory crisis.

Now, he had a creeping suspicion that it [i]wasn’t[/i] a sheathed knot he was feeling earlier. It was a pair of foxen cheeks. Face cheeks, as opposed to the rear cheeks that he now had behind his…

…Huge, fluffy balls that were dangling from where the base of his neck used to be. He didn’t see them immediately, but, in his distress, he managed glance down and backward from where his face used to be, and got a look at them. Watching them expand. Watching that white scrotal fur covering them.

Then, intuitively turning his visual perspective further, Ryan got a closer look at what he could now see was a distinctly muzzle-shaped bulge in his shorts… which were still encompassing his new and developing fox anthro arms.

The beast within the camo spoke as the face pressed outward:

“[i]Unnhhh[/i], YEAH bro!! This is doing it the HARD way!!”

The voice was deep, growly, and somehow irritating -- like someone bragging too loudly about himself after a great track and field performance. It really did remind Ryan of an excited jock at a sporting event or tailgate party.

This was when Ryan consciously noticed that rotating his perspective was now almost like turning a camera… divorced from the stiff, pulsating sensations he was feeling in what was once his head.

With more effort, he was able to move the point of view slightly… turning and somehow visually stepping away from himself… at which point he found himself staring down the length of an anthro canid’s swelling red rocket, complete with lazily part-swollen knot… and the whole surface of it was turning darker, blacker, as it lengthened and swelled.

Atop his shaft, he could see and feel the last of his head hair receding… a little seedling top of strands, rapidly sucked back into his growing length, while a heavier trail of bright red accent fur set in over the seam of his scrotum -- a finishing touch for that part.

He also finally realized that what was once his eyes had become two closed over, sealed shut dots of skin, the lumps steadily transforming away and leaving more erectile tissue behind. His mouth was narrowing, [i]narrowing[/i]… becoming his new foxen urethra.

He was… in the point of view of his cock… which was now where his head used to be. But in that case, who or [i]WHAT[/i] was growing in those shorts, the muzzle now long enough to strain the fabric?

“Unnnh… c’mon, [i]bigger[/i]!!” The jock in his pants shouted. The fabric strained as the head continued to shape. “Ooh, yeah, I feel it now. Look at me, gents and bitches… this fox is is about… to get… [b]BORN!!![/b]”

[b]Shhhhhrreddd!![/b]

With a growl and a rush of growth, the head burst the fabric open, separating the shorts like exploded banana peelings above the increasingly golden-furred arms below.

A final ripple of size pumped through the rest of him at the same time, making the cock swell up even bigger and blackening it to pure ebony, and endowing the muscles and limbs with that extra bit of buffness and length.

The result was a fox that was taller than Ryan’s human self by a good foot, and packed with additional weight from what must have been years of serious athletics and lifting. He exuded testosterone -- far more than the lithe image Ryan had once had, but it wasn’t like he’d complain about being strong all of a sudden. The meatier butt and thighs -- formerly his arm and shoulder region -- finally ripped through his T-shirt at that point, the length of it splitting down the middle and the shoulder seams popping off. Only the shirt collar remained, hugging his sheath and the root of his erect cock like a sad little bandana.

What bits of his pelage weren’t already grown in proceeded to finish doing so -- his markings correcting themselves with the bright red line across the perimeter of his torso, and clothing his hands in the same red-brown patterns as his feet. He had his foxy “boots” and “gloves,” made of 100% his own fur and grown straight out of his body…

It was [i]perfect[/i]… almost perfect. Except for…

[b][u]The Struggle[/u][/b]

Ryan looked up the white of his torso again and saw the new vulpine head peering down hungrily at him -- tongue displayed, eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring as if to take in the scent of those aroused, dangly new fox bits.

Ryan [i]wasn’t[/i] the one doing that.

[i]Now wait a minute…[/i]

Why couldn’t he see through those pretty blue eyes or control what he was doing? His arms were acting without him, pulling away what remained of the scraps of his old shorts and dropping them on the floor. Even his feet were starting to move on their own, bringing his body together in a squat.

“Heheheh… damn, jackpot!” The head spoke without him a hand moved to touch the tip of his shaft, causing a single pulse of sensation that made Ryan experience… thoughts that weren’t normal for him. Thoughts of bigness and hardness and throbbingness that he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with right now.

This was a mistake -- he wasn’t supposed to be a cock. In a certain manner of speaking, he needed to turn this situation right-side up before all the blood rushed to his head. His [i]huge, vulpine dick head[/i].

Ryan focused hard on moving his perspective back to his noggin. His “camera” swept upward, past his navel and white ruff of chest fluff, up to his neck and into the skull, pivoting…

With surprising ease, he got back in. He felt his eager facial expression blank out in surprise as he regained something like control.

He… saw through his eyes, but the act of piloting his body felt muffled. Moving was sluggish and delayed, like trying to pilot a robot via laggy satellite internet.

He also got a deep, enticing whiff of his own scent… felt his strong and compelling arousal… and sensed these jockish, cocky urges which were [i]not[/i] his own… at least, as far as he was consciously aware…

Not at all randomly, his perspective cut away to imagined images of his new fox self squatting on a truck bed, chugging a beer with the guys of the paw frat while they cheered for him, a big red sweater vest around him and nothing on his bottom… his cock out but concealed from public view by the sheer number of musky bodies between himself and the rest of the campus… a hand reaching in to play with his heavy nuts, giving them a tug, teasing at the root of that shaft--

Ryan [b]THROBBED[/b], and felt as if he “woke up” inside the cock again. He looked around frantically, seeing a close-up view of the fox’s fingers playing over his surface… seeing the way the veins bulged and smoothed from the pressure, feeling the stimulation.

The jock fox was looking down at him again. That sneer was back and SO MUCH BIGGER now.

“Someone wants to be a coooock~” the fox cooed at him.

Ryan tried to be silent. He tried not to think about what being a cock meant, especially a cock on a body of his own imaginary creation…

Momentarily unopposed, Lightning looked around for a moment -- then put his fingers to his maw and whistled shrilly.

A rustling from the nearby clean-laundry pile alarmed Ryan. The jockstrap emerged like an animated snake of cloth, darting across the floor.

[i]Oh heck NO,[/i] thought the former human. He tried to lunge back into their brain -- and was smacked down like a half-assed jump shot being guarded by a much better basketball player.

The jock strap curled its way up Lightning’s legs. With total ease, the straps un-stitched themselves, separating and lovingly enfolding his vulpine thighs. The material mended itself like new when the straps met the waistband again.

The lilac fabric snugged up against the heavy balls below Ryan, the waistband hugging him as Lightning grabbed him and massaged at his tip distractingly. Enticing waves of pleasure rolled through Ryan, the downward pressure making him imagine how snug his knotty girth could become within the item’s clutches. He could get so BIG and [b]HARD[/b]…

As the jockstrap settled into place, the remaining ring of shirt-collar inexplicably popped off of Ryan’s sheath and base -- unstitching and unfolding much like the straps had done on the legs a moment earlier. It then re-folded itself back into an intact collar, attached to the utterly shredded remains of what used to be his shirt.

The magic on that jockstrap was officially [i]whack[/i] and physics-defying… which made it all the more disconcerting that this strangely jockish version of Lightning had called it to snap back onto their body.

Bad underwear! Bad, restraining thing!

Ryan felt full and hot! Angry! Like he wanted to fuck the jockstrap until it ripped!!

…Those weren’t normal reactions for him either, but he feared they were an early warning of the kinds of [i]mental[/i] distortion that would be assailing him the longer this went on. He did his best to ignore it for now, striving to distance himself from the “cock” thoughts and feelings and get back to himself again…

While Ryan struggled, the jock was making a play. Grabbing along the waistband and fabric edges with both hands, Lightning tugged the jockstrap upward, demonstrating that it was strangely flexible for something that seemed to be made of cotton. It extended long and tightly over Ryan’s surface, pinning the head of that black cock like a tent peg and compressing his heavy balls up against the knotty base.

[i]Oh GODS…[/i]

Ryan felt a strange mix of pleasure and tension: having the root of his shaft pressed so firmly into Lightning’s groin, plus the weirdly cushioned erotic squish of their nuts and knot rubbing together.

The instinctive hatred of the jockstrap was now overwritten by equally wanton desire. More cloth, more touch, more sensation!!

One of Lightning’s hands grabbed at the fabric and stroked over the cock, sending a warmth through Ryan and making him throb. The other hand reached through the gap between the straps and the tight frontal canopy to grab at the pressured root, curling finger and thumb around it and milking away.

[i]Ngggh, that’s cheating![/i] Ryan thought. He tried to fight back again, but the jockstrap was like some kind of magical snare upon his mind! (Either that, or the sheer meaty, swelly pleasure was keeping him too interested to pull himself free…)

Ryan’s erect length got tightly and sensually pressed by the jockstrap, the fabric rubbing on him while Lightning squeezed his tip and worked him side to side like a joystick. It occurred to Ryan how BIG he was for a cock… sticking waaay up out of the fabric. He must be at least a foot long now, and thicker than his human rear would ever have dared to take.

Looking down over him, drool dripping from a vulpine whisker, Lightning said in a loud voice, “Never underestimate paw frat sex-magic, cockmeat. Ooh, or maybe I’ll call you [i]cuckmeat[/i], since I’m the one who’ll be getting every partner from now on, while you helplessly watch with no say but a dick’s. I can’t wait to take a good long [i]piss[/i] and make YOU know how it feels. Or put you up in too-tight briefs that don’t even breathe right… [i]fuck[/i] man, you thought chafing felt bad BEFORE…”

Being talked to so meanly… Ryan found it difficult to be angry about it, now. Even the idea of tight briefs felt so far away, as long as that paw kept rubbing, that soft jockstrap fabric making him feel [i]so[/i] good, like life could just keep getting better and [i]better[/i] forever…

Ryan was looking up at him and noticed a pale, liquid glow forming on the fox’s chest… spreading onto the arms, like something else was coming into being. He felt a hot energy coursing through him, like he was now a conduit for the magic in the strap to change Lightning further.

A lilac-colored tank top resolved itself into reality a moment later, tight and muscle-hugging, followed by a red fleece vest with a white-striped collar, left wide open with the bulk of the fox’s torso still exposed.

Now flowing down the legs, the same glow conjured up faded blue jeans and long, open-toed red and white athletic shoes with plenty of room for those paws to get air. Big red crew socks formed underneath, ankle high and with a lighting bolt emblem for branding. The fox looked down at them and grinned approvingly, which seemed to cue the magic to generate gloves to match: holes for his claw tips, deep red like the socks, and again showing the lightning bolt.

Despite the initial bad attitude, it was clear the jockfox enjoyed rubbing his length too. Ryan’s throbs even incited a quiet moan from Lightning as the clothing finished forming. Then there was a pause and a quiet compliment about how nice it was feeling.

The jock paused to savor the pleasure and to admire the outfit in ensemble. At first this was fine… but then the active pleasure waned. Ryan grew bored in a matter of seconds, wondering where the additional stimulation was -- quickly turning impatient. Then he grew more lucid, remembering that he was supposed to be resisting… he wasn’t supposed to be a cock [i]at all[/i], let alone one that was needy for constant rubs!!

Lightning was still admiring his new gear -- for the moment not even talking, probably fantasizing about whatever he might do in the near future.

With the magic not actively changing [i]him[/i] at the moment, Ryan considered this might be his best chance. One more time, he pushed his perspective further out…

…managed to get higher, rising up that sexy-muscular fluffy white chest, his mind riding the elevator of their spine and up into the brain…

While Lightning’s mind wandered, Ryan’s focused. He was there.

Ryan inhaled sharply through his maw, feeling the air over his long tongue. Immediately, he could feel the pressure of this twisted version of Lightning trying to push him back out of the driver’s seat. He didn’t know how long he’d have, so he opted to be quick.

As his first order of business upon regaining control, Ryan flailed and kicked his way out of the paw shoes, jeans, and jockstrap, letting his heavy dick-pole bounce down in the air in front of him.

“I am NOT… gonna get stuck… as a fox cock!!” Ryan said as he shoved the strap deep into a dresser drawer and shut it tight. He said it a lot louder than he had meant to, but his pulse was pounding from the arousal, and his mood was downright annoyed at the jock within him.

He was just about to start removing the vest when he turned and glanced down indignantly at his dick. Even that small act of looking its way made Ryan feel gravitationally pulled toward it, as if his consciousness was about to be sucked out the airlock of his brain and back into that black, velvety void. He clenched his long canine teeth and pulled his nose back up, inhaling slowly…

…Smelling his musk on the air again, and feeling the depth of his arousal. The blood pressure inside that knot. How heavy his sack was. How much his cock lazily, but truly, [i]wanted to nut[/i]. It dreamed of nutting. Cumming all his nice fox spunk everywhere. Cumming it like the long, hard, bloated fox-cock that he was…

The jock spoke within, like someone sneaking up behind him in his thoughts: [i]You’re really funny… ya know that, nerd?[/i]

He felt something like being whacked on the back of the head by a passing bully -- and “woke up” in the cock again.

[b][u]The Jock Enjoys Himself: By Hand[/u][/b]

For that moment, Ryan’s consciousness was firmly in tune with the sensations of their shaft. Not wasting any time following up on the temptation, the jockish Lightning grabbed hold of their cock and started stroking away at it…

…soft hand paw-pads mooshing over it…

…the pressure perfect to send pleasure crackling distractingly through Ryans mind…

[b]…throb, THROB…[/b]

No way -- he had to fight this! He couldn’t live the rest of his life as a cock!

[b]…THROB…[/b]

…Could he?

A meaty, velvety, warm, ENORMOUS vulpine jock-cock that so many people would no doubt want to sniff, feel… have inside them.

What was this urge…? He had this [i]strong[/i] urge to be surrounded, fully inside a slick and hot place, moist flesh hugging him…

[i]Nooo[/i], these were more cock thoughts!! He slammed his perspective upward but failed to achieve escape velocity, feeling both rebuffed by Lightning’s focus will and dragged back down by the temptations of just [i]existing[/i] like this while the fox fapped away.

As if to make that latter issue even worse, the fox was turning his right ankle and lifting the knee so as to show off the contours of one huge, sensual foot paw for his own enjoyment, waggling the toes at himself. Ryan looked down, saw the creases and the contours, the way the beans parted and got closer together as the foot moved, taunting him, [i]daring[/i] him to imagine them rubbing over his hard, erect body…

[b]…THROB!![/b]

He felt the pelvic floor flex and the root of his cock being lifted… the hand working over his long, proud tip, the blood pressure strong in his numerous veins, his knot bloating to its limits as he was overwhelmed with fantasies and inundated by the sensations of what he was…

[i]Cock.[/i]

…He struggled. He tried to rise again, to get back up and into their head. He heard Lightning laughing. He could feel the hearty laughter down in his dick, vibrating him a little.

Why was it so detailed? Why could he feel every touch? Every heartbeat. Every subtle swell and evacuation of blood, the arousal steadily engorging him larger…

He throbbed three times… a dry, mini-orgasm. Lightning milking him for pleasure, but not letting him get to [i]the[/i] moment. The urge to ejaculate percolated inside Ryan. A primal need to bust a nut was burning in his soul, the heat of it stoked hotter by what the jock fox was doing to him…

While Ryan was distracted by that strong urge, a finger claw was making a careful stroke across one side of his shaft, tracing out a lightning bolt zigzag without breaking the skin. Ryan rotated his camera to look and saw the design glow, the skin there filling with a golden yellow, painted look, but the mark was part of his body. As it formed, Ryan felt his point of view being drawn in closer, not totally shackled to the skin of the cock, but unable to get more than half a foot away from it. He could go over, under, forward… see Lightning’s shapely ass and his big balls sticking out the sides of the jock strap, but he could [i]not[/i] get back to their brain right now.

He was cock. He was dick. He was penis.

And he needed to nut. It was [i]important[/i].

These thoughts and feelings rushed through him, like new lewd firmware through a computer. He was still himself, but he couldn’t… really… stop…

[b]THROB.[/b] He felt the hand working over him -- slow, teasing, another looong squeeze on his knot…!!

[b][u]The Jock Enjoys Himself: With Paws![/u][/b]

Sensations and urges aside, the irony of the situation was hitting Ryan hard: a [i]huge dick[/i] of a fox really had grown its way out from between his legs… and now, Ryan had turned into [i]a huge fox dick[/i] himself!

And the more Lightning pawed, rubbed, stroked… the more Ryan sank into the immersion. With the lightning-bolt mark keeping him here, there was nowhere else to go but [i]deeper[/i].

Apart from the seemingly magical senses of sight and hearing, Ryan could now also directly feel and [i]taste[/i] Lightning’s hands as they rubbed over him. The taste was fainter than the tactile sensations, but present nonetheless… a soft but enticing earthy muskiness that made him want more of the foxy body to rub over him…

[i]Oh gods[/i], what if Lightning got one of those foot paws messy and rubbed it over him... he might [i]lose[/i] it…

The pelvic floor flexed, making Ryan twitch. He heard an evil “Heheheh~” from his unasked-for body partner -- looked up and saw the half-grinning sneer on his muzzle.

“You’re such a naughty nerd, but I’ll teach you your place~”

Sitting upright on the bed, Lightning spread his knees sideways until they were nearly horizontal and lifted his foot-paws by hand and leg-muscle action, turning them so they could draw closer, [i]teasingly close[/i] to Ryan’s smooth, ebony surface…

“Seriously though… do ya have any idea how common foot fetishes are, man? It’s not even weird, paws are [i]good[/i], especially for big black foxcocks.”

Lightning was almost being nice about it… though there was a pride in his voice that made it evident this was more about wanting the most enjoyment for himself, even if it meant sweet talking his shy cock a little. It wasn’t like Ryan had a voice with which to call him out on it, or tell anybody else the jock might harbor the heart of a softie in there somewhere…

Then, brushing over him, he felt and tasted those feet. The stronger sensations of those freshly minted jockpaws making contact. He didn’t have a tongue, but the combined feeling of being sandwiched between two toe pads, and then the motion of those pads over his surface… the warmth in between, the contrast of fluffy and softly smooth…

Ryan throbbed helplessly as they rubbed at his length, the beans spreading and pressing into all the right spots, nailing his cocky nerve endings with all the precision of some sort of kinky acupuncturist.

For all of his faults, the jockfox had a [i]great[/i] awareness of what made a dick feel good. It was almost like he had special knowledge of what being a dick was… like.

…Right. [i]Heck.[/i] Ryan couldn’t quite “blush” like this, but he throbbed harder, his knot feeling HUGE and aching for the big bastard to really grab him down at the root of it and milk away… and [i]of course he wasn’t doing it yet[/i], instead prolonging the action, teasing him ruthlessly, making him throb harder, and basking in the pleasure that resulted.

Moisture was rising inside Ryan… like congestion. Lightning hadn’t been making much pre before, but now there was so much of it coming up… it was tickling Ryan’s insides while the jock’s groin muscles continued their subtle contractions, sending up more of the fluid…

Ryan felt like it was important not to pass any of the fox’s fluids… certainly not while [i]liking[/i] it. The magic was trapping him here, but what would happen if he gave in? Would it even need to stay active to keep him here?

One of those large toe-beans pressed at his tip, while the other foot cupped his thick knot…

[i]I have to nut![/i] Ryan thought compulsively.

Ryan sputtered and spurted… feeling as if he was coughing up the pre, though really he was just throbbing the way that any cock would.

[i]I [b]have[/b] to nut!![/i]

It came out of him, warm and gooey, getting all over those paws, making them slicker… accelerating how they rubbed over him, making his pleasure increase and emptying the clutter from his mind.

[i]I have to nut… I have to![/i]

Each sensation felt progressively more important, tempting him to fixate on only the truth of being Lightning’s penis: the salty and musky flavors, the sensations… ”

There were several more heavy throbs. The compulsive thinking subsided, if only barely. He wondered if this was what it meant to be a cock close to orgasm… getting to that edge, trying to tell the brain to [i]do it, do it, do it…!![/i]

“Ahhh yeah, much better with a foxcock~ good place for a human, turned into nothing but meat to pass my cum and piss.

[i]And be stuck helplessly between your paws,[/i] Ryan tried not to think, but there was no denying the results felt great.

As he had suspected, he was [i]really[/i] going to have to watch himself, or else he might lose himself to the sheer, degrading simplicity of being nothing but penis but the rest of his life… spending his days tucked away in a smother-warm fox sheath, not needing to breathe, the experience practically womb-like until the moment Lightning would get hard and coax him out again, filling him up with way too much blood until he felt like he’d pop, just like right now, but instead of popping the pressure and pleasure would increase more and more and more until finally, aching and twitching, he’d feel the cum shoot…

He… definitely… shouldn't think about that too much. Not while those paws were so tempting… stroking… [i]ohgodsohfuuuu [b]I NEED TO NUT--!![/b][/i]

Ryan throbbed with violent intensity as the fox’s curled-forward tongue lapped at his tip. He could feel the warm breath as Lightning panted. The fox’s hands were on their big balls, kneading and playing with them, with the wrists provided some just-in-case catch support for the paws.

“What’s wrong, cock? Ready to give it up already?” He flexed his pelvic floor, making Ryan flinch. “Sure doesn’t take much to get you to give up on your humanity… but let’s face it, you always wanted to be replaced by a handsome fox anyway. Well, be careful what you wish for, haha!”

While Ryan helplessly pulsated and eked out more pre -- feeling on the very [i]brink[/i] of blowing a massive load -- there was a frustratingly inopportune knock at the door.

[b]Thock-thock-thock-thock-thock![/b]

Unusually, Ryan flew straight into a rage. [i]OF COURSE!![/i] he thought. [i]Of course someone’s interrupting us RIGHT when we’re getting to the best part![/i] He felt a bit of blood leave his knot from the surprise, a frustrating chip off the former monolith of his horny fervor.

It was then that he realized the phrase “raging erection” might not be entirely metaphorical, at least for someone like him…

To the horror of what was left of Ryan’s more human sensibilities, the jockfox stood up muttering, not even bothering to get the strap back on (nor any other modesty covering, for that matter) and took a digitigrade walk over to the door, to see what all the knocking was about.

* * *

[b][u]Cocky Charisma: the Fox Finds a Playmate[/u][/b]

“I heard reports of a… com… motion…?" the German shepherd dog security guard started as the door swung wide, before trailing off into a stupefied gaze at the combined audacity and hotness of what he saw.

"Ey man,” said the jock fox, dick casually in hand and slowly stroking, while the other hand leaned on the door, showing off his frat-clothed top and nude lower half. “You one of those sex-curity guards like in the pornos?"

The GSD's jaw hung open, a tent having rapidly formed in the black trousers of his uniform. Between the bone in his shaft and the angle of his sheath anatomy, the "lipsticking" anthro shep couldn't easily hide the truth of how he felt.

The jock-fox kept fapping away casually after asking, not displaying a speck of shame, while his formerly human cock "blushed" his way straight back to peak engorgement, getting so stiff the big jock thumped playfully at him a few times as if testing the ripeness of a melon, before grinning and waving it side to side at the flabbergasted new arrival.

"Uhh. Sorry, didn’t mean to--”

“You’re fine, man. What’s up?”

“That, uh, Ryan guy. You're his friend?”

"Ah yeah, I'm an old roommate of his.” He displayed his tongue at the edge of his maw and gave his shaft a few slower, luxuriating strokes, angling his hips up as if to emphasize the size. “Call me Richard Lightning for [i]long[/i], ‘cause there’s nothing short about this Dick, yanno what I’m saying?”

Richard Lightning. Dick Lightning. Cringey as it was, he actually said it. What was worse was that the shepherd seemed turned on by the combination of his audacity and scent… and Ryan’s embarrassment wasn’t making him any softer. “Richard” was so into showing off like this that Ryan was now as swollen as a vampire tick at a blood bank.

The flabbergasted shep was just staring, as if mesmerized by the ebony cock. His jaw opened as if to speak, but his tongue drooped in a small, distracted huff instead.

“Come on in and have a look around,” said the self-styled Richard. “See if you can’t find your cum-motion.”

The shepherd peeled his gaze off the presented meatstick. “Uh… Okay.”

“We shared everything, me and Ryan,” Richard continued, dick in one hand, as he led the way inside, to the sofa in front of the small coffee table. “Even the same underwear, if you have to know." He sat down -- spread his knees, and kept on casually fapping, making the cock's sheer hardness obvious by how much more its surface was resisting his fingers.

The GSD gulped, not having looked around very much after all. "Maybe I [i]know[/i] you then. We went to the same university, uh, Ryan and me. Were you in, the, uh, uh…"

Richard stopped fapping and let his dick slap the table. "Okay bro listen up, I’ll put it in terms we can all understand: I’m like if Ryan was [i]cool[/i]. Don't worry about Ryan. Just do what comes natural and we don't have to make it awkward."

Sounding more horny than shy, the GSD answered, "I wouldn't know what you mean..."

"Yeah and tell me which camp you reserved that tent for, bro. Hope you brought the buns 'cause I got THE hotdog, know what I'm sayin'? A little char -- black, sizzling, fresh from the grill. Or maybe too hot to handle?"

The scraps that were left of Ryan's dignity continued to object, as if speaking to the guard: [i]Please don't do this, please don't ACCEPT him offering to bang you out of nowhere…[/i]

Then, just as earnestly Ryan thought something else: [i]But I NEED to nut.[/i] He twinged in Richrd’s hand. All by itself, that simple statement felt [i]so much more believable[/i] than his logical objection…

"I should shut the door," the guard said.

"‘Ey, only if you don't like threesomes. I'm easy."

The shepherd hurried to shut the door -- turned around and undid his pants, letting them drop and revealing a straining pair of gray boxer briefs with a leak splotch on them. They had the same frat’s logo on them, Ryan imagined these ones probably weren’t cursed. [i]Probably.[/i]

The fox's nose sniff-sniffed the air. “Looks like your tent sprang a leak. I can help, but it’s gonna cost ya.”

Ryan throbbed harder as he watched the allegedly perfectly normal security guard turn around, drop undies, and lift tail for the fox -- scooting back right there to let him get a view of his butt.

The jock-fox grabbed him, pulled him close, and gave his tail a lewd sniff, before spinning him back around and grabbing his waist with both feet -- pulling him face first on top of him, pinning Ryan between the fluff of their abs and rubbing him up against the heat of the other guy's cock.

“Get a sniff under here and give the guns a taste. Go on, show me you want it, unless you're some kinda nerd.”

The shep dove into obeying, nuzzing under his arms and nibbling at the arms, lapping at the fur -- slowly adoring his way lower, fingering the pecs and down the sides.

Then one of those feet pulled back around -- pressed up against the shep's chest, and forced him back a step. He dropped to a kneel, seeming to know without being told that this meant the jock wanted his feet serviced. A tongue licking down the ankle followed, followed by a worshipful licking between the toes -- face against the pawpads, Ryan still being fapped slowly while the jock oversaw it all like some raunchy king.

“Gods, your paws, man…”

“Pfft, this is nothing, you should get a taste after I work out.” Then the shep was hugging the leg lower -- starting to hump on the foot. “Oh, wow, look who’s a little paw slut, huh? Gosh, better hope no burglars offer to let you lick their feet, they’d rob us blind, man.”

“Heh… ahhh…”

“Go on, dog, just remember when you’re done you're cleaning it, AND I’m exacting my payment.”

Ryan felt a heavier surge of pre leak out of him as he pulsated, the jock-fox's fingers stroking slowly over him while he watched the panting security guard rut away against the paw beans, If he didn’t know better, Ryan would have imagined he was cumming… but Dick Lightning was a lot more productive in this department than the human had ever been.

The shep’s tip was jutting up through the toes. He was groaning and visibly feeling good, probably pent up. Ryan ached in sympathy for him, [b]because big, knotty cocks should cum and feel nice[/b].

[i]No! I have to keep my humanity, I can't just be a cock…![/i]

But that was awfully, well, [i]hard[/i] as he kept watching the shep and feeling feedback from Richard’s pleasure at having that paw played with. When the rutting got too dry, the shep paused to sluuuurp over it, moistening the foot and humping against it afresh... before the fox changed things up and moved the OTHER paw over, necessitating that the shepherd give it a good licking too...

“Making sure I get my money shot's worth,” said the fox.

More moaning and a peaking arousal followed -- the shepherd grinding on that wet paw, fucking deeper between the beans -- keeping his tip lower as he started to croon out a low, howly-yowly noise of bliss.

“Ahhh, the good boy’s gonna get it. Gonna get that nut, aren't ya, Mr. Goodboy?”

The guard wagged and shivered, humping at a fever pitch for several more seconds before he lost it -- cum spewing all over the fox's paw and into the fur between the pads.

Ryan twinged several times, both in sympathy for his fellow [s]male’s[/s] [b]cock’s[/b] climax, and because the idea of a paw getting soaked with fresh spunk was...

[b]Throb. THROB.[/b]

...It was a weakness for him. And he needed to cum too. He needed to feel the mess flow through him and pump out of him RIGHT NOW!! [i]I GOTTA NUT HARD!![/i]

Ugh... why were cocks so [s]stupid[/s] [b]virile?[/b] No matter how he tried to [s]get soft[/s] [b]reach climax[/b], he couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it’d be to [b]get inside that tight shepherd ass and knot hard and BLOOOW!![/b].

Then there was a flurry of both cleanup and mess-making. Richard smearing the shep’s cum on Ryan -- Ryan feeling eagerer and eagerer, NEEDING to be inside that tight hole or that warm maw… or even a hand or a paw, he wasn’t too particular right now. He just needed to nut; it was really that simple, and any cock must know how that felt.

But the texture and sharply acrid-musky flavor of the cum on his surface felt really, extra-enticingly good… a nice complement to his size and knottiness before he would eventually BLOOOW! BOOM!!

The shep was licking the fox’s other paw clean, but… honestly, Ryan was struggling to focus even on that now. His thoughts were almost nothing but the urge to ejaculate.

“Now, bend over.”

“But what about the other--”

“I SAID BEND OVER, SLUT.”

“Yessir!” the shepherd meeped.

Dick Lightning laughed, gloating as he roughed the guard’s undies and pants down the rest of the way -- working Ryan’s tip up under that tail. The shep collapsed onto the coffee table, knocking both Ryan’s phone and empty mug aside and onto the carpet. The fox bore down on him for a slightly up-angled doggystyle entry, the wood of the table creaking under their weight as he pushed that long, diamond-hard length up into that hole.

“Ngh… aaah… fuck…” the shep swore quietly.

The hole was winking tight in front of him. Stupid hole! SPREAD! Spread!! Spread-spread-spread-spread!!

Richard thrust -- Ryan slid forward, strong and moist, pushing through that hole as it relented, feeling the heat and pressure of the shepherd’s rear surrounding him.

[i]I have to nut.[/i]

He felt his knot get bopped by the shepherd’s fluffy tan ass cheeks. Ryan felt overjoyed, feeling sure he was going GET to nut, here in just a moment.

[b]Whump, whump, whump…[/b] the jock humped, away, growling and teasing, the balls slapping together as he worked Ryan deeper into that hole, the once-tightened insides spreading and adjusting to take him.

“Heheh, looks like some doggy’s got lots of practice taking THICK guys like me…”

“Unhhh… please be rough… the guys from Rho Alpha were always so rough…”

Elation surged through Ryan as he got jackhammered harder against the hole -- the knot slamming repeatedly onto it, the hole straining to get big enough to take it.

“C’mon bro, OPEN WIDE.”

“Uhh, yes daddy~” the shepherd mewled, embarrassment thoroughly claiming him.

It occurred to Ryan to try “zooming out” again, which worked to pull straight back and get a view of Richard from behind… heavy balls looking so tight and needy as they slammed away at this cock-craving pup of a man.

[b]THROB…![/b]

He felt the hole widening. The shep grunting. The slickness deepening, deepening… sliding…!!

[b]SHHLLPLUP!![/b]

“FUUUUCK YEAAAAH!!” whooped the jockfox while the shepherd moaned under him.

A rapid series of rutting, short strokes followed. Ryan was assailed by the relentless squeezing and releasing of the GSD’s hole, which was mouthing on him like a pro, trying to make him nut… trying to make him CUM BUCKETS like a BIG FOX COCK was supposed to…

Ryan was in the zone. He wanted to scream to the universe for this hole to take his load. He wanted to roar like a monster at how masculine he felt. He wanted to let the pleasure burn through him and pleasure this whole foxy body.

But he could not speak, and he could hardly think. He could only nut. And [i]nut[/i] was what he did.

First, there was nothing. Then, there were spasms. Then, there was the torrential rush of fluid inside of him. Pumping. Spurting. Filling. The hole around him wettening, warming, flushing with Richard’s spunk as he let loose. All that teased-up cum… fresh from the fox. Fresh from the freshly changed, home-grown jockfox.

Ryan felt dizzy as the spurts peaked and then slowed. A slow crackle of pleasure flowed over him. Knotty and big… and so thoroughly stuck, still feeling that guy clenching slowly on him.

There was a shift of angle as Lighting scooted closer -- lower -- pulled the shep backward so that they fell onto the floor. A soft “unf!” could be heard from the penetrated male, followed by a tongue-lolling pant.

“Get comfy, man-bitch,” whispered the jock. “We’re gonna be here for a while.”

There was a small arf in reply, the shep totally zoned out on the euphoria and stress of having that girthy knot in his bum.

Ryan… was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He was so big and full and pleasured. Everything was plumpness and huge bigness and bliss. He was still so knotty, but he had already climaxed.

Dick Lightning started slowly rutting again, and Ryan felt pleasure rekindle. The fox was good to ejaculate multiple times…

…and that meant Ryan was good for it, too.

The happy black cock glided within the crude, dark moistness of the shepherd’s hole. Surrounded by ass, milked by a slutty butt, and full of a second load just waiting to spurt out of what had once been his face…

This was the life. A shrinking part of him still didn’t want that… but the big, swollen, ERECT parts certainly did.

[i]Damn[/i], it felt good to be [i]penis[/i].

~ fin ~