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Roland squirmed in his seat, the feline simultaneously too ashamed and too embarrassed to move any further from that spot. Everything had gone perfectly, just swimmingly, throughout the first half of the date today: he had met the girl, a lovely slim vixen, at the mall just like they had arranged in their messages across the nights before. He had bought her lunch, over which she had seemed to pick and poke yet still claimed to enjoy, and then the two started walking around the stores and chatting, and Roland couldn't quite get a hold of her paw, but then again maybe that was moving too quickly for a first date.

But then Tri had shown up and ruined everything. Roland swallowed and looked up across the room to where the black-furred Renamon now stood leaning over the vixen, his date, with one paw slowly undoing the button of her pants fly. She looked up into his cool eyes, a bright, indulgent intoxication simmering there the likes of which Roland himself had never seen during their date previously. He had just come out of nowhere, and whether the two had known each other previously he had no idea - but as soon as the Renamon appeared he felt like the vixen was lost to him, for the way she entwined her arm with his, how she watched his muzzle when he spoke and laughed at everything he said, how she interacted with him like he was actually a real person, how Roland might have not even existed for the attention she paid to him.

But he did, of course, as Tri made sure to remind him. Every time they went to a new shop, some of them ones that Roland had already visited with their - his - date, Tri would look over to him, mascara-accented eyes halfway lidded, and would say something like "oh, well let's make sure it's alright with your boyfriend, ah?" or "I'm sorry, baby, I didn't bring enough cash to cover you... but that's okay, since I'm sure Roland here will get it for us".

Then back to the food court, where she ate with abandon. Roland tried to interject himself again and again, "hey, our movie started ten minutes ago", "hey um, I think we should call it quits here, I'm getting close to my card limit", "hey I have to be back home by five-"

And now here he was, sitting in an armchair in a hotel room that he was playing for, watching this slim, effeminate Renamon tease the vixen who was supposed to be his girlfriend out of her pants. The two giggled at each other as he did so, Tri's eyelashes longer and more luxurious than hers, his thick claws carefully filed and painted in a glistening black high-gloss polish, the leather jacket he had worn to the mall now opened to show his bare chest beneath. No pecs nor muscles - what does she see in him?_Roland thought; _I try to do twenty push-ups a day, and squats in the shower- but just a sleek and smooth chest down to a flat belly, soft fur glistening as it spread out over wide hips made even more so under the women's jeans he wore.

As though feeling Roland's gaze, then, one of the Renamon's ears flicked and he placed a finger to the vixen's lips, then strode over. Roland swallowed and looked away, not wanting to see the way he smoothly, gracefully lilted from side to side, wide tail swaying as he went, flaunting everything he had that the cat didn't. Intoxicating in a way, infuriating, and - he hated to admit - deeply, slightly arousing.

Roland shivered when one of those painted claws tilted his muzzle up and brought him to face forward. Tri's breath smelled faintly of cinnamon; Roland swallowed again and looked over his muzzle, from the spacer in his ear to the rings in his eyebrow, to the eyeshadow and mascara, to the black sclera and silver iris, to the piercings along his lips. A black-fleshed tongue flicked out and Tri gave a slow, languid blink, inspecting Roland right back; he spread his fingers over his jaw, tilted his head up, looked down...

"Take your pants off."

Roland blinked, startled. "I-"

"Come on." When Tri spoke it was smooth and steady, all quiet confidence. "You wanna be a part of this, don't you? We've got another use for you."

"I mean, I-"

"Come on, Roland," called the vixen where she lay across the bed, almost fully naked with her pants and underwear halfway to her thighs. Soft, pert breasts rested against her chest, smooth white fur.

Roland looked between the two of them, embarrassed, and then quite awkwardly stood up to do as told. His paws shook as he worked at his pants fly and zipper, deciding to take care of that before taking his shirt off - but then before he got the chance to, one of the Renamon's paws reached forward and cupped him from underneath, fingers warm where they squeezed around his sack and the base of his shaft.

"Oh," Tri murmured. "Look at you. That's cute." Then, over his shoulder: "Dear, would you help me out?"

Didn't have to tell her twice. The vixen sat up, licked her lips, and came over, and while Roland watched she reached around Tri from behind and made the same move on him - and then flopped his fat, heavy shaft and hefty balls down from their confinement, the Renamon's supple foreskin rolling back a touch under the girth of the piercing there as well. Roland felt the humid heat of the other male's superior size simmering out over himself, already killing whatever arousal he had built up with the invitation.

"Now if you would hold still," Tri went on, holding him in place, "I just need to borrow this right quick..."

Roland was just about to ask what - when he noticed. Already Tri had a good inch and a half on him in length, to say nothing about how he could hold both of Roland's balls in one small, girly palm while the cat himself felt like he'd need both to be able to cup one of his, but as he watched it seemed like that disparity just continued to grow, until he was more than certain of it.

He blinked, then did so again, and again, and each time he got smaller while Tri became bigger. Thick, fervid veins along the soft skin of the Renamon's shaft pulsed and twitched, spiderwebbing up towards the succulent rim of his foreskin which itself continued to roll slowly back, warm limestone-grey skin melding to the richer, obsidian black of the glistening flesh underneath. The silver ring hooked through the underside of his head seemed to shrink as well, tightening in place and hanging there; his sack stirred and plumped as well, skin straining and then stretching beneath the heightened weight, until the Renamon let his paws drop away and just let himself press up against Roland there as well. While all of this happened Roland watched, shocked, as he shrank both in girth as well as length, his own cock retreating against his body and thinning out until it was little more than the last two knuckles of his index finger and balls barely bigger than one of his thumbpads.

Everything Roland had, Tri would be able to easily wrap beneath that thick foreskin of his. Little more than that single piercing he had. Satisfied, the Renamon chuckled, took a half-step back, and then gave his new endowment a slow, heavy shake and slap against his opposite palm.

"That's much better," he said, and gave the cat a wink. "You weren't gonna be using it anyway. No, no, don't say anything. That's all we needed. You couldn't lose your virginity with that inch you've got left even if you tried, but - well, here, I'll do you a favor." Tri turned around - Roland could see his sack and shaft hanging down between his legs, huge and heavy - and the vixen's eyes visibly lit up when she saw. "You can watch how it's really_done. Besides, she's a fox; _I'll have a much easier time breeding her, anyhow."

Roland slowly sat back down in the seat, repeatedly glancing down to remind himself that everything was still there. He couldn't even feel it, it was so small. Up on the mattress in front of him the two giggled and leaned in - and then the vixen gasped, and shuddered, and moaned, and moaned again...