A Funny Yifftastic Adventure, Part I
The Amazons! Part One! (Yea, we all know where this is going)
Renard kept his steady pace as he trudged forward through the thick foliage. His feet were caked in mud and bits of flora. As the sweat seemed to pour out of every pore (see what I did there?) he finally stopped and rested. He pulled the map, yes the map, yes the map, yes the map, yes the map, yes the map, yes the map! And began to read it. He held it up to his face and studied it carefully. From what he saw, he was somewhere in the massive greenish area in Brazil. He had to give the cartographer credit on accuracy. It really was green in the jungle.
The compass was a bit off, though. The big N was constantly pointed in the same direction no matter how fast he turned. It annoyed him. How was he supposed to find his way about the jungle when the compass was always pointing North? His attempts to find West were growing difficult. After all, the sun was setting, and he had to find out his direction.
Which was rather difficult. There were just so many damn trees.
But he had his provisions. They would last a few days. Then he would have to fend for himself, like the tough males on TV. He would have to drink his own piss, build sailboats out of coconuts, and take shelter in his canteen. Fuck yea.
Now as Renard trudged on, he felt that the most important thing would be to find a river, which would eventually lead him to civilization. Or the ocean. Which would then lead him to civilization. Or Atlantis. That would be a cool story.
Anyway, as he continued being lost he eventually did come to a river. He didn't have a boat, so he simply walked along the edge of the river until he heard something. It sounded like voices, but he was sure that he must have been hearing things. He turned about and his tail flicked about quickly. His ears perked up and his eyes widened. His whiskers lifted and his sphincter tightened. His muscles tensed and his nose twitched. His mouth shut and his eyebrows rose. He was scared, too.
But when he turned back he jumped into the air in a very figurative fashion. He was not alone. There was a female in front of him. Multiple females, in fact. And while at any other point in his life he would love to see lightly clad vixens sneaking up on him, this was not a good time. Especially when they had spears. They were about four in number, and they pointed their weapons at him, and he was frozen in fear. They squinted at him and spoke to one another in a strange language, as if they were deciding what to do with him. Well, seeing as this story is on a furry porn site, it was pretty obvious and any reader that didn't figure it out by now is probably retarded anyway.
However for our slower readers, please refer to the last paragraph for a quick summary. There will be cookies in the lobby afterwards.
Renard started to talk to them, hoping that they might perhaps know English. The chances were slim. If not, then he wouldn't lose anything.
"Hey...um...ladies. I'm just passing through. No need to point sharp spears at me. I'm just...um, tourist. I'm a TOURIST. Eh...do you speak Spanish? Yo soy bajo. Er..."
He tried to remember some of the things he learned earlier in Spanish class. He failed that class, but he had the best hat in the whole class. Which didn't really have any bearing on his current situation.
"No escriba en los arboles por favor."
Stares.
"Cuidado! El matador tiene un cuchillo!"
They looked confused.
"El agua es tu amigo?"
They were apparently fed up with his nonsense and shouted at him in another language. He felt a sharp point behind him and could tell that they wanted him to come with them. He put his hands up and smiled anxiously.
"Alright, alright!" he said.
The vixen that appeared to be the leader led the way as the others followed her along the river as Renard pondered his fate. He didn't have to ponder for long. Only half an hour later they led him into the thickest part of the jungle, and as they marched on, he saw in the distance a village nestled in the trees.
The huts there were simple, and require no further literary explanation. As he looked about, the whole village seemed to come alive. All the people turned to him and stared.
Normally Renard didn't mind being stared at, but the fact that they all had spears made the moment seem less wonderful. He also could not help notice that they were all women. You see, males have certain powers that only men have, such as the power of Apathy, the ability to wear the same clothes multiple days consecutively without giving a damn, and being able to feel when women are looking at them.
Renard was filled with panic because he was afraid of women, for one. They were scary creatures, unpredictable, loud, nosy, and loud. Plus, no matter what you did around them, you were always wrong. They were efficient, ruthless, and effective, and perhaps most scary about them is that they always traveled in packs, but were most vicious as individuals.
His foxy ears pricked upwards as his realization for the females shifted into realization that the females were all eyeing him with a look he had received only once before.
It was his wedding night. He was in bed with his bride and they were taking off their clothes and kissing passionately, and when Renard looked into her eyes a large tiger burst through the window and stared at him. He would never forget that gaze. Or the way his wife had beaten the thing off with a coat hanger and a tampon box.
Anyway...
They moved all around him, swarming his personal space with their furry bodies, tails flinging upwards, pheromones choking his airway, and speaking in tongues he could not understand. They looked at him like their next meal, and he was fairly certain they were not cannibals. After all, this story is "adult" and not "extreme".
They led him to the largest hut where there was an elevated platform from packed earth and a great chair sat on the top. The chair was decorated in bones, the species of which Renard could not tell if it had been a person or an animal. There are always these kinds of mix-ups in the furry world, you see. Either way, the bones were very deceased, and Renard gulped at the thought.
Sitting on this great big chair of doom was a large female fox. Her body was scantily clad. As in she was wearing only a tight bra made of animal skin. Her legs were spread out in front of her and her tail lazily shifted back and forth, which would have caught Renard's attention if it were not for the aforementioned nudity. Which he liked, though he did not say anything.
She was most voluptuous. Her breast were firm and finely shaped, her muscular strong legs clawed on the earth under her toes and her face was in itself very beautiful. The necklaces of wooden beads and animal bones did not take away from her allure, but added to the sense of exoticism Renard began to instantly feel. He couldn't help it. She was hot.
She had a staff in her hand, more of a rod, actually. You know what, forget I said staff. That gives you the wrong impression. Her rod...yea, that sounds better...her rod...actually it sounds a bit sexual...her rod she pointed at him and conversed (the vixen, not the rod) with the females that had found Renard. They talked in their smooth language for a short bit as Renard sat there silent as the grave, afraid that speaking would put him there.
Then the vixen stood up and held her hands on her hips, the nudity she exhibited causing Renard's arousal to rise higher and higher, though he tried to fight it. It was eventually too hard to do. Giggity. Renard heard her say a few more words, the without a moment's hesitation a myriad of paws reached all about him. He felt his hat lift from the top of his head and the buttons on his shirt unfasten as the breezes he had been unaware of blew across his chest. They lifted him into the air in unison and pulled the long pants he was wearing from his legs. The erection he had was obviously apparent in his short boxers. The females reached down to his waist and pulled it away, leaving him naked before them, harder than telephone pole. The choking pheromones were all about him and though he had once thought that the day would end badly for him, the sudden interest they had in his nudity dispelled any worries he had.
Doing the horizontal hokey-pokey with a village of beautiful Amazons was, in his opinion, much more preferable to being killed. As his feet touched the ground, his body shook with anticipation, but the matriarch in front of them said some words to them. They averted their eyes to here, catching glances of Renard in between blinks and attempting to hold his hand or rest a paw on his body. He felt a push from behind as several of the females led him away past the throne, following the matriarch as she flouted her hips in front of him, her tail swaying back and forth, her cheeks...
...gah...Renard could hardly contain his urge to pounce on her right there. As wonderful as that would be for about a second, it would probably be detrimental to his life expectancy. He was in no position to bargain. Unless he threatened to castrate himself. Wait...why did that thought come to his mind?
Anyway...
The matriarch led them to a large hut, the door of which was covered by a patchwork door of animal leather. She pulled it aside, noticing that Renard's eyes were equally focused on where he stepped as to where her ass was at any given moment. The inside was fairly dark, but Renard also noticed that it was growing late in the day. Already the world had begun to fall into shadow.
They let go of his arms as he stepped inside the hut and left him alone with the matriarch. The flap on the tent fluttered a bit as they left, and the darkness inside enveloped him. He was fully expecting to be mugged at that moment, but realized that technically they had just done that to him. He instantly relaxed...well, most of him did.
There was a light across the hut as a trail of sparks appeared. Another moment later and there was light. The matriarch had ignited some sort of flammable liquid in a thick wooden plate and set it down. Renard stood there motionless; hoping her vision was based on movement, and for some odd reason began to think of Sam Neill. His erection pulsed, and every moment he had to stand there was a pleasure in itself, but inaction was biting at his libido.
She lit a couple more of the similar lights and soon the room was lighter than anticipated, a glowing effects was all around him and her, and while it was not bright, it was enough to see well. It was a glowing, soft ambiance. Barely visible shadows danced on the walls behind them.
Without looking at him she said something to him, which made Renard jump from the change out of silence. She sat down on the ground, which was covered in thick animal pelts, at a table in the middle of the room. It was a fairly small table, crafted from a single piece of wood. He moved forwards and sat down, crossing his knees to avoid having his legs touch the matriarch. She scooted up, and their knees touched. Her warm fur was enough to make him tremble once with anxiety.
On the table before him was food. Fruits and legumes of many varieties, some of which Renard could not identify sat there, cut and stacked like a scene from Saw: Fruit version. Which would probably just be called Blender.
...Hm.
Anyway...
She had a jug sitting next to the foods which she lifted and drank from. She took a few large drinks from it before extending it to Renard, who took it, avoiding touching her hands like the plague. He took the small jug and lifted his nose to the lid and inhaled. It smelled...not alcoholic...but strange. He lifted it up to his lips and took a mouthful of the stuff.
He was surprised when it tasted wonderful. He took as many drinks as she did and handed it back to her. She started to smile, the first time Renard had seen her do so. That was either very good, or very bad. He saw Silence of the Lambs. Creepy shit happens when people smile.
Creeeeepy shit.
Oh. That's the end. For now.