The Visit
The Visit ___ The large passanger bus rumbled along, engine and driveshaft whining a tone that after two hours was just a hum compared to the roar that the dusty blond coyote had heard at first. Steven stared out the window at the trees rushing past at 65 miles an hour. There would be many more hours of this, two days in fact on the long trip from Detroit, Michigan to Vernal, Utah. Then when his friend picked him up, another half an hour drive out of the small town to the thirty year old fox's isolated home in the woods.
Steven was 17 years old and running away from his old life. His parents, his school, all of it. The lithe, fit coyote was sick of the whole mess and had been looking for a way out for awhile now. His folks never accepted his lifestyle, or any of his choices. Not once had they ever supported him in anything that wasn't chosen by them first. He had escaped onto the internet, looking for friends, for someone who understood him. He found the fox, William.
He knew the older fox was interested in him, although he had never expressly said so. Steven smiled at the partial reflection of himself in the window, thinking of the nicely built although smaller fox. William had a corvette, a jeep, and even a pair of jetskis, though he lived alone. Just like Steven, the fox was not only gay but a recluse as well. He never understood others nor did he really want to try. William had inherited his wealth from his deceased father, who had been a doctor.
Over a period of several months, they had chatted, traded modest photos of each other, and eventually Steven opened up to the fox about his problems and feelings. To his surprise and delight, William invited him to live at his place, no strings attached. He had told his young coyote friend that no one would be able to find him at his isolated homestead.
Steven agreed almost immediatly.
He daydreamed sometime longer, letting his mind float away like the blur of forest outside his window as they rolled down the interstate. He soon drifted to sleep. ___ The days went painfully slow and mostly uneventful, aside from a lunatic who got on the bus one night at around 1 in the morning. The insane otter was rambling on about his wife who left him for a circus midget or some other such nonesense. The passangers around them groaned as they tried to sleep and Steven sunk down into his seat awkwardly. Shortly after the water-rat got off the bus at a gas station and did not reboard with the rest of them.
Sooner than he thought, they were entering the tiny town of Vernal. He felt like he had an apple caught in his throat and for the first time, looked down at the red sweater and jeans he was wearing, wishing he had dressed a bit nicer for their meeting. The nervousness washed over him as much as the excitment filled him. As the large bus ground to a halt in the bus station, he sat and composed himself, letting the other passengers exit before he stood to gather his carry-on bags. The young coyote took a deep breath and steped off the bus.
The short-lived confusion of sorting and claiming luggage gave him time to scan the parking lot behind them, and there it sat. A blood red corvette gleaming blindingly in the sun. He could not help but let a wag escape down his spine and through his tail that began as a nervous shiver, after all he was a teenager and that was one hell of a car! He turned his attention towards the small building of the bus depot, wishing he could see through the tinted windows, yet somehow feeling there was a set of amber eyes locked onto him. ___ He dragged all the belongings he now owned behind him in his two rolling suitcases, and the backpack and duffle bag slung over his shoulders, and entered the small building. Steven's ears swiveled around and his nose twitched but his blue eyes found the vulpine first. The small fox had fur almost as red as his car, ending in the classic brown 'socks' and white highlights. William was leaning against a support pillar with his arms crossed and one leg draped over the other. He neither looked nor did he hold himself like your average thirty year old. He seemed more like a teenager with the smug, yet welcoming smirk on his muzzle, showing a bit of shiney white fangs. He looked the coyote up and down before calling out.
"Yo! Steven! That you, kid?"
"Who else?" The coyote laughed nervously, wishing he had something wittier to say for his first words in person with the fox he admired.
William strolled over, almost half a foot shorted than the younger canid, and wearing a white sleevless t-shirt with a black jolly roger, blue jean shorts that went past his knees and a pair of black sneakers. He didn't ask permission before taking the duffel bag and one of the suitcases from his friend.
"Let's get out of here. Too many people! Bah, to all of you!" he made a rude gesture with his paw towards the crowd, the duffel slung over his shoulder as he led the coyote outside.
The two walked leisurely towards the sports car, a slightly awkward silence between them as William popped the trunk on the coupe. They loaded Steven's belongings into the somewhat cramped trunk area under the hatch, the fox making sure nothing would slide and hit them in the heads. He let the hatch drop with a nice, refined thud and grinned at his young companion.
"No metal body panels, not even the trunk or hood."
"This is such a cool car! The pictures were nice, but, DAMN!" Steven's tail was wagging again behind him.
Willam smirked more with his eyes, slyly. "Just wait!"
They sat inside the low, leather covered interior, the fox cranked the engine to a solid roar from its V8 engine, and after a few spirited revs, the red banshee tore off onto the main road, leaving some tire smoke and signature black rubber marks in the direction they headed. Out of town. ___ The low-laying town gave way to more trees as they entered a wooded area, which in turn led to a heavier forest. Steven sat a bit uneasily, feeling out of place in this fancy red car with this older red fox. His mind wondered momentarily to the life he left behind. Overcontrolling parents, strict school, peers he couldn't relate to. This new sense of freedom overwhelmed him, and ge couldn't bring himself to accept it yet. He half expected this fox next to him, clutching the leather steering wheel and staring intently down the empty road ahead to tell him to do better at this, or stop doing that. The fox turned to him and gave him another smirk, seemingly his trademark.
"Homesick, kid?" He promptly looked back at the road, intent on maintaining the 90 or so miles an hour they traveled at.
"Nah!" Chuckled the blond furred coyote, scratching at the back of his neck unwittingly, "I was just admiring this scenary. We don't have this stuff in Detroit!"
"Yeah, it sure is beautiful here. It gets even prettier where The Den is." Referring to his home's name. "And no one around for several miles! It's my own slice of paradise. Thanks, pop." His expression didn't change this time, eyes narrowed down the road with a slightly hollow grin on his muzzle now.
Steven didn't pay much mind. Instead he imagined what it would be like to be so isolated. His dream, right?
The property was, indeed, a half an hour from town. At 90 miles an hour. Over an hour away at the posted limit of 45. ___ Steven stared, wide eyed at the large cabin style house, surrounded by trees and off the road by about a quarter of a mile down a gravel road. William had driven extra slow, complaining about rock chips on the light paint if he went over 5 miles an hour. The house was 2 stories tall with a basement, many windows and a huge black roof sheltering a wrap-around balcony on the top floor. The deck was made from the same stained wood as the walls and cobble stones led from the large gravel driveway in front, as well as from the cabin-esque garage at the side to the patio. Rocking chairs and a two-person swing carved from logs adorned the lower porch on either side of the wooden front door.
The coyote took it all in, everything was silent except for the birds in the tall trees surrounding and dwarfing the cabin. His ears flattened, as he was not used to this much space, being a city boy. He gulped.
"Well, c'mon, kid! Let's have you pick out a room!" The fox smiled, half way up the stone path, carrying all the luggage, not even pulling but carrying the two roller suit cases. He was stronger than his frame let on.
"Pick?" Steven asked in suprise, ears perking now.
William turned his back towards his young friend and continued towards the door. "Well you don't think i have six t.v. rooms and one bedroom, do you?"
Steven grinned and jogged to catch up to the fox. This was going to be something, alright! ___ The two entered the foyer, once inside the door. There was an open view to the vast second floor directly above them, wrapped in a mahogany banister with a staircase to the right, next to a larger den with a computer, fireplace, and various animal trophies and heads on the walls.
On the slanted ceilings were large skylight windows, letting in lots of natural sunlight and a view of some of the taller trees, giving the whole place a very open, airy feel. To the left was a dining room with a huge oak table and more matching chairs than Steven thought were ever actually used. Adorning the table were two fine silver candellabras and a chandelier hanging overhead. Infront of them, an immense and uncluttered living room, with double wide hearth, stoked with natural wood logs for a fire, enormous white leather couch, contrasting the wood around it, and an enormous plasma screen television over the fireplace with its various media devices on wall mounted glass shelves on one side and dvd's on the other.
Steven gasped as beyond the living room were wall to wall windows, giving an extraordinary view of the forested slope down to the valley behind his home. Sandstone rocks jutted from the foliage in the distance and the vastness of the landscape, both in and outside made him a bit dizzy.
"Wow... This is beautiful, William! I've never seen anything like this before!" The coyote exclaimed with his jaw hanging a bit.
The red fox chuckled and came over to his friend with a glass of equally red wine. "And you probably never will! A t.v. station asked to feature this house on some show, but I declined. I mean why would they ask? Don't people live in these places to avoid attention?" He sighed and sipped his wine, sauntering a bit over to and sitting on the couch, one leg over the other and his free arm stretched along the back of the leather.
Steven blushed a little under his fur, never having been handed alcohal from an adult, and sat next to his friend, sipping the expensive drop. "Look.. Thanks alot for all this. I mean taking me in and all, I was going crazy in Michigan. This really means alot to me."
Willaim shooed away the thank you in the air with his paw. "Think nothing, man. I saw that I could help a friend, and I did. It's not like im struggling enough to be stingy." He motioned to the house with his nose. "Anyways," He polished off his wine before continueing, "I think I'll get dinner ready. Then we can pick out your room, hows that?" He stood and stretched.
"That would be great!" Steven took another big gulp from his glass and smiled, his tail at his side and thumping the cushion too audibly too not be noticed.
The fox strolled into the kitchen, disapearing from sight and calling out, "The remote is in the armrest of the sofa on the left. I assume you can use that thing better than I can! Lots of DVD's too, and I have every channel from here to Tokyo." ___ They sat at the less formal kitchen table, in the breakfast nook which was surrounded on three sides by panoramic windows overlooking the setting sun on the trees of the canyon. William had made hand rolled sushie from fish he caught himself from a stream in the valley they now looked at. The two ate off of expensive japanese plates and the fox remarked delightedly at how his guest could properly use chopsticks, though he preferred the term 'hashi'. They now sipped hot sake out of small cups and chatted about Steven's trip, laughing at the story of the nutty otter.
"Speaking of river-rats, we should go fishing tommorow. I had a small pier built down there with a boathouse after my father passed. Believe me it has come in handy when the weather turns foul. It's a bit of a hike back up here in the wet!" The fox popped a perfectly made piece of sashimi into his muzzle from the tray, forgoing the soy sauce completely. He then picked up some pickled ginger and chewed it slowly.
Steven nodded in agreement. "I'd love that! Fishing is something I never got to do much, though we were surrounded by lakes! I'd have never known. I've never been to any of them.."
"Your parents never took you too the Great Lakes? What kind of Michiganders are they?" William asked in disbelief.
"The conservative kind." The coyote sighed, looking out at the darkening woods, the house appearing even more cozy and welcoming now with its light contrasting the fading landscape. A glowing becon of paradise in the night. "The kind that doesn't have time for fun."
"Bah! Fun? Fishing for fun is where you don't catch anything, or throw them back. We eat what we catch, here! You'll love it, its a great feeling." William leaned on his arm, smiling, before he stood and collected the plates. "And for desert, Bannana tempura with green tea ice cream!"
Steven thought he was full, but this made him drool like a starving wolf. ___ After their delicious dessert, with its contrasting hot and cold, soft and crunchy textures, sweet and savory flavors, as well as a few more cups of the expensive plum sake, they went to walk the second floor of the large cabin. The upstairs was centered by a more cozy, second living room complete with its own fireplace and television, a nice stereo with large speakers, and a more natural looking brown calfskin sofa. Bookshelves filled with fancy literature and old classics mirrored on either side of the centerpiece hearth, and a coffee table with a stuffed feral wolf in glass sat before the couch. The familiar panoramic windows were actually sliding doors to make the room open to the patio, wall to wall. William explained there was nearly invisible bug screening he could lower in the mosquito season.
On either side of them was a hallway with one room on either side, as well as one at the end of each. The side rooms were regular bedrooms, each with their own closets and baths, while the ending room at the right was the Master bedroom. The opposite room on the left hallway was a work room, for William's hobbies.
Steven asked what he did for fun, other than fish and pick up teenagers on the internet jokingly.
William promised he would show him tommorow after they had filled their lines with fish.
The bedrooms each had their own personality. One was very bright, while another one was rustic with darker colors and a more earthy feel to match the house. The other two were fairly normal seeming, and each had their own, apparantly untouched computers and televisions. Steven almost mentioned the fact that dust had not settled on anything he could see, but thought better of it, thinking it rather rude.
He chose one of the modern rooms, near the Master suite, helping his foxy host bring up his things from the foyer. They hugged each other lightly, and william told him if he needed anything, to just knock on his door, and to help himself to the kitchen if he wanted anything.
The coyote sat on the bed, looking around the room for a few moments at his new home. After a little bit, he sat at the computer and turned it on. The very new machine booted up quickly, and the first-time setup screen popped up with it's cheery "Welcome idiots!" pictures and explanations. He cocked his head a bit, finding this a little strange.
An owl hooted in a tree somewhere nearby in the silence. He felt a shiver in his spine again. ___ After a nice breakfast of smoked salmon and cream cheese on fresh, toasted bagels the two made their way down the trail towards the stream in the canyon. They hiked past tall deciduous trees and an occasional evergreen. The sights, scents and sounds almost overloaded the teenage coyote as he tried to take it all in. A mist was still hanging midway in the trees as it made its slow journey upwards to meet with its cloud brethren.
They didn't say much, instead both lost in their respective thoughts. The younger of the two only knowing his thoughts were on the fox, wondering why the vulpine had not made a move on him yet. He figured it was mostly out of respect, letting him get used to his new home.
He almost wished the fox would throw him on the forest floor and use him, and good! It was expected though, their online relationship had never included any sex. Even the pictures they had sent each other were very modest. Work safe would be a good term for them, as well as their discussions. Hints had been made, but vague ones at best.
The coyote sighed at his mixed feelings on this.
William perked a brown-furred ear. He turned his head and stopped walking. "You alright? Still homesick, I bet, huh?"
"Yeah. This is just so much to take in. I'm still happy though!" He added with an excited, still puppy-like wag he had not outgrown fully yet.
"That's normal. It's good to be excited! You have alot of new things to try. Life is short, after all!" The fox chuckled and continued walking, leaving Steven to catch up after a moment more of thought.
A smaller building appeared through the trees where the vegitation seemed to disapear, a few more minutes and the bubbling, slowly flowing stream came into view. Even right before the coyote's eyes a fish flopped out of the water and made a little splash.
"Hah! See that? I swear I could just stand with bait in a bucket and catch these buggers!" William laughed cheerily.
The red furred fox unlocked the door to the normal-house sized 'boat house'. It was a fully furnished lodge! Complete with its own t.v., kitchen, and even bedroom! Steven's mind wandered to a short fantasy of the two of them closing the door behind them to that very room.
He turned and smiled at his host. "This is beautiful, William! It's bigger than my parent's house!" He swayed his tail excitedly, looking at the fishing gear and preserved fish covering one of the walls. "Did you catch all these?"
"Well, me and my Dad. He taught me how to stuff them, too." Willaim smirked again, looking his coyote friend up and down. "Steven, you have a beautiful pelt."
The coyote's eyes widened, his ears flattening a bit, not daring to look at the fox he liked so much, afraid to meet his eyes accidently. His tailtip gave him away as it twitched violently side to side while the rest of him was un-naturally stiff. One part in particular. "T-Thanks.."
The fox chuckled, "I'm sorry, kid. Couldn't help myself. Forget I said anything. Grab a pole!" This made the coyote twist his head quickly to his friend, who was grinning widly. "I mean so we can catch some fish." He winked. ___ Sun beat down on them through the trees behind them in the early day as they sat on comfortable weather-proof chairs on the wooden pier. The coyote and the fox sat and slowly repeated the age-old pattern of casting their lines, and reeling them in slowly. Within only two hours, by noon, they had already caught two, and three keepers respectivly. These fish swam in a cramped catch-cage william had tied off in the water at his paws.
The fox cranked at a bite and let out a loud whoop as he pulled another nice trout from the water. "Whoo! We're going to eat well tonight, kid! And now, we're tied!" He smirked at the younger coyote who gave another surprised look at this last line of innuendo.
Steven blushed, and decided to play along. "Tied? Well I wonder who will come out on top?" He punctuated the last word.
"Bah! Foxes are always better fishermen. You should know that, mister 'I've never been to the great lakes'." He teased.
"What do you say we take these up to the house and I show you my craft? Right after we gut these fish."
Steven smiled and nodded. "Sure thing, foxy!"
William didn't seem to notice the pet name, simply stood up, stored their gear, and began to gut their catch. The fox seemed quiet on their journey back up to the cabin, which they could see clearly above them through the trees. Steven watched the fox's white-tipped tail seeming to tease him, although it had less of a sway in it then previously. He wrote it off as simple mood swings everyone has but still maintained a level of concern. Finally upon their arrival to the back patio, he chanced to ask.
"William.. Are you ok?" He tilted his head a bit as the older fox turned to look at him, wearing a very large grin.
"Steven.. I'm fantastic."
Another shiver. ___ The young coyote sat at the breakfast table they had eaten at twice and watched the back of William as he cleaned their fish in the sink. The skilled fox made short work at filleting them neatly onto a plate that he covered and put into the fridge.
"You're good at that." Steven commented, smiling at the fox.
"Yeah. My dad trained me real well. Wine?" He poured two glasses, then another for himself as he polished the first off in good time.
Steven sipped his, eyeing his newly acquired friend. "William, you seem very nervous about something." His ears were tilted back a bit.
The fox smiled and shook his head, taking another long sip. "Not at all, I'm excited. I can't wait to show you what I do to occupy myself. You're going to be really involved in it, I can tell!" He winked again to comfort his teenage company.
"What... do you do?" The dusty blonde coyote tilted his head curiously.
"Do you really want to see, now?" a large, toothy grin appearing on the vulpine's muzzle. His fur seemed to bristle in pride.
Steven only nodded.
William closed his eyes, sighing happily and finished his glass before opening his eyes and pouring them both another glass. "Good. Let's finish this bottle, and I will get you involved in what I'm sure will... Take over your life." He laughed at the coyote's quizical look. "Trust me, you'll love it!" ___ The wine had hit Steven more than he had expected. He almost had to lean against the handrail as they climbed the stairs and went to the fox's work room. William grinned back at Steven proudly and pushed the door open. On the tables and walls were many stuffed, taxidermed animals of all types. Fish, birds, and even some feral foxes. Steven found it a bit odd.
"Isn't that a bit strange, Will? I mean.. Foxes? Doesn't that bug you? I've never heard of hunting your own kind."
The fox chuckled, putting his arm over a framed fox specimen he was mounting onto a log and still working on. "Don't be silly. This is why we evolved and they didn't! It's something to be proud of."
The coyote was feeling very dizzy, and sat down on a work bench. "I... Guess so." He spied on the other table, a tan coyote pelt next to a wooden frame, not yet worked on. He gulped. "Well thats creepy.."
The fox sauntered over to his coyote guest, petting him between the ears and receiving a small murr in response. "You look sleepy, Steven. Why don't you lay down?" He gave the youth a bit of a gently push. The coyote fell over on the bench and rolled to the floor.
"W-William.. I- I think Ima.. pass out... I..." The world spun above him. The fox looking down at him was in three places at once. His eyelids kept closing.
"See you in the morning, Steven. Such a pretty pelt."
Steven blacked out as the world spun away from his grasping mind. ___ His eyes flashed open, the world was still fuzzy. His head was swimming. Steven knew he must have been out for hours but he was still drunk. He didn't understand. His eyes blinked at the bright light and he tried to move, letting out a groan. He yelped out as he found his wrists and ankles secured by chains. His arms ached something aweful and he realized he was chained to the ceiling support in a dark cellar.
Tables surrounded him with various strange instruments and bottles. Jugs and hoses. The coyote began to panic and struggle.
The clanking of the chains as he struggled weakly silenced the talking he heard in the background before it continued. He was unable to speak and his mouth felt wet.
"Ah! Your specimen must be awake! Of course, Mr. Yamoto, you get final say on him. I can always find a more suitable mount for such a loyal customer, if you are displeased!"
"Lets see him, then." A raspy voice replied, unseen.
Through a door behind the stone walls which was marked "Show Room", William the fox, appeared, following a black furred weasel in a very fancy looking suit. The coyote whimpered and looked from one to the other. Leaning towards him, and eyeing him up and down, the stern looking weasel finally nodded, looking to the fox with a solem "Hmm." of agreement.
"Excellent! I can have him delivered in two weeks time, prompt as always."
William never met the coyote's eyes as he graciously bowed to the weasle. "This way, Mr. Yamoto. I have prepared an excellent meal of fresh, baked trout caught from my own stream for us to celebrate."
The two left Steven alone, struggling on his chains noisily as they proceeded into the other room. He heard footsteps on stairs going up.
After a few hours in silence, his head began to clear and he tried crying out. His eyes widened and his ears fell flat to his skull as he brushed his tongue against his teeth and felt it much shorter than it had been hours before.
His blue eyes welled up in tears, and he passed out from shock. ___ "Wake up, wake up, it's time for you to enjoy yourself, Steven!" The fox sprayed the young coyote with a stream of ice cold water from a hose in the face.
Steven gurgled and spat, coughing. His eyes flashed closed immediatly again against the water. The fox was hosing his naked body down, smiling and naked himself. The white fur of his chest and belly contrasting the red fur and member hanging limply and tied out of his sheath. The asshole had already pawed off, probably on him.
The coyote whimpered, pleading with his eyes at the fox.
"Ohhh, now that won't work. Nor will begging, which is why I removed your tongue. It gets a bit tiresome and honestly depressing to hear it all. They always think I'll change my mind. I'm sorry, Steven but no can do. You see you were bought and sold before you were even invited here, based on your pictures. Mr. Yamoto is a very picky customer, so you should feel honored that you will sit in his personal collection for years to come!"
The fox looked excited, his tail swishing wildly. "Just think, Steven," He shouted over the water he now cleaned the coyote's fur off with, "that you will survive much longer than you would have naturally! You will be admired for your youthful body decades after you would have aged and become ugly. You will always be beautiful, now!"
Steven cried out loudly, an awful sound with his stub of a tongue.
"No, no, no. You should be excited! I know you wanted to turn me on this whole time. Well, now you have! And you will do it several times more while I skin you, and tan your hide. I'll even hump your furrless meat on the matress down here, while your pelt gets ready in the chemicals. Do you know what its like to pound into the skinned body of another canine? Bah, of course you don't. Well, I'll tell you it's very, very hot, Steven. Very sexy. Although a bit sticky."
Steven screamed out, sobbing.
"Stop that, Steven! Salt will ruin that beautiful muzzle of yours and It takes so long to de-mat that short fur! Now lets get you on that cart and out in the sun to dry off."
The fox disapeared behind him pulling something squeeky from the walls. Steven found himself being strapped to a push cart before his weak, drugged arms and legs were one by one re-secured to his sides.
William pulled the weeping coyote on the cart up the stairs, grunting as each wheels settled onto the next step. The two moved out onto the back porch, and William lay the cart onto its back, leaving Steven exposed, nude and wet in the warm sun.
He sat down on a patio chair and sipped a glass of wine, naked himself and rubbing his now plump sheath. "Oh Steven, you actually make me wish I could be aroused by the living. Unfortunatly, it's never worked for me. Too much..." He waved a paw dismissively, "emotion and what-not." He took another swig. "Beautiful day!"
Steven sobbed, staring weakly up at the sun. It hurt his eyes, but he didn't care.
He passed out again. The shivers did not come. ___ Steven awoke to loud orchestral music. It filled the work room that William had shown him earlier. The fox sat at a table, laying tools out with his back to the coyote, humming along and directing occasionally with one paw. Steven groaned. William turned his head and rotated on his rolling stool, sliding it over to the coyote without getting up.
"Scheherazade, by the late Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. My favorite of the Russian masters. It was written in 1888, isn't that amazing? Timeless! Just like my own creations, and like you will become!"
The fox stroked through Steven's chest fur with his brown paw, feeling the firm muscles with his claws and moaning out.
"You are so handsome, coyote.. I gave you extra pain killers. You shouldn't feel a thing. Maybe a little prick and tingling as i remove the skin, but you are immobilized. I severed your spinal cord already. A delicate job, I must tell you! Mr. Yamoto demands a seamless mount! He has payed very handsomly for you, but it would be rude to him to discuss that with you."
He turned in his chair and pushed back to the table, gathering a tray of implements and rolling himself back to the metal slab Steven lay on, setting the tray on a close by operating cart.
"I have to turn you over, Steven. This would be a bit painful but you shouldn't feel it."
The fox stood and grunted, heaving the larger, younger coyote onto his front. All Steven could do was blink and his tear ducts still functioned, forming a puddle under his muzzle as he pressed against the cold, steel table.
"And, we make a small incision along the spine from the back of your neck to the tail, which we have to peel seperatly after we open your sides. Don't worry, I don't need to remove your guts. You will be mostly intact, and now, thanks to the sedatives, you cannot die from shock. Or shouldn't at least."
Steven felt a deadened pinch at the back of his skull, and a gentle tugging along his back with a dull ripping sound, almost like a soft zipper. He whimpered softly.
"I have to tell you, Steven, my favorite part to work with are the hindpaws. They're almost indistinguishable from our feral counterparts. It brings me back to my roots, you know what I mean? And you do have some very pretty hindpaws, indeed, if I may say so."
The fox hummed along as he worked, the musical piece starting over from the beginning. William now made incisions from the back along the sides and began to peel the flesh off, making a wet, sticky noise and revealing the muscle underneath with very little blood loss.
"Ahhh, perfect. Does that feel a bit cold? I'm sorry, it's natural. When I'm through I'll warm you up while we make love. You'll have about an hour before you die, so we'll have plenty of time for a nice quicky!"
Steven sobbed, his mind was still reeling in its daze. Although he knew what was happening, it felt so distant. He wondered if this is what a deer felt like as it was giving up the fight to the wolves. Peace.
William lifted the coyote's tail and began to very carefully de-sleave it from the thin muscle and bone covering it, the reverse hide of tail looking very strange, as did the furless appendage he now let flop against the coyote's buttocks, which the fur was stretched back over next with neat cuts along side his groin to assist.
"Now comes the hardest parts, excuse me if I'm silent for this."
The fox concentrated hard, lifting one of Steven's legs , and very slowly and carefully began pulling the hide down like a stocking, taking a moment to rub the soft pads of his footpaws before they were covered in their own fur from higher up the leg. He peeled the lot off of the sticky, smooth meat of the coyote's toes before doing the next leg.
After taking a short breather and petting Steven gently on the head, He moved to the arms, following a similar procedure. Half an hour later, He rolled the coyote onto his stomache, carefuly and slowly laying the already stripped hide to the sides so it hung neatly off the edges of the table. He leaned down to lick Steven's nose, the pleading eyes lost on the fox.
Pulling the pelt upwards, and carefuly using a scalpal to seperate the thin fur of his his neather regions from the even thinner flesh, as to not spoil the whole thing, he took a breath when that was done, and began the much easier task of peeling up the abdomen and chest, the whole hide legs, tail, back and all following in an increasingly large roll of fur and sticky skin.
"You have sauch a beautiful pelt, Steven. I can't wait for you to see it! Speaking of..."
William put a single finger over Steven's eyelid to lower it, and proceeded to cut aroung it, replacing the eyes and lids with artificial ones later during the mounting process. He moved to the next eye, and smiled down as the coyote blinked away his own blood, eyes wide again.
The fox pulled the rest of the hide up and over Steven's neck, and gingerly peeled off his face. ___ The fox looked at the now red form of Steven, no longer a coyote but a generic canine of some unknown type. He held up and stretched out Steven's hide, covering himself from view while showing his houseguest. "You're beautiful, Steven! Oh how I can't wait to work with this!!"
He hurried off to lay the hide out on a stretch board, making adjustments and securing it so that it wouldn't lose its form while he led the cyote out of this world. He rolled Steven onto his face once again, the sticky bare meat making an aweful noise as it peeled from the table.
William stroked his already thick sheath and coaxed his red member out, getting on his hands and knees on the slab over Steven, lowering himself and sliding underneath the skinned coyote's bare tail.
The fox encountered no resistance, moaning out and panting softly down at the now empty holes where Steven's ears had been. He began thrusting, a sick slurpy sound coming from between them. The coyote whimpered, cried, and groaned. All barely audible at how weak he was becoming. The world was fading. All he could tell was the fox was inside him. And covering him.
"Ohhh Steven! So nice. So nice!" The fox's hips spasmed as he thrust violently, lifting himself off of the coyote to pound down on him feraly, his head lifted to the lights with his eyes closed and a grin of exstacy on his face. "Oh, God! Here I come, kid."
The world went black for Steven while the table was still shaking. ___ William sat in his showroom on a plush, expensive leather arm chair. One of five facing a elaboratly carved oak table. He sipped an expensive red wine from an equally pricey glass. He gazed around at his own private collection as his favorite composers filled his ears, still nude and sitting with one leg crossed over the other, his brown furred hindpaw kicking lightly to the tune.
His eyes browsed over a very young wolf in a baseball uniform who was swinging a bat captured in time with a determined look on the little leaguers face. Like a photograph taken by a proud parent.
He smiled while his gaze drifted towards a teenage husky, striking a cool pose with his footpaw kicked up on an invisible wall behind him, paws tucked in a leather jacket and a smug look on his muzzle.
Next was a lion who's mane was just coming in, siting on his knees and lifting one paw to the air with claws outstretched and roaring as if he was a feral. He chuckled at the memory of that one fleeing down the road. The drugged wine did not affect a stoner as much as he'd thought. He'd double the dose every time after that incident.
A fellow fox, even more slim than he was winked at him, wearing a girly french maids outfit, his rump and tail lifted behind him as he held a pink feather duster out infront of him as if cleaning a table.
Laying on a crushed velvet sofa was a white ferret, striking a come-hiter pose and equally seductive smile, glass eyes reflecting the room.
The fox sighed happily, swilling his wine over his tongue and looking over at the phone on the table as the modernized antique rang its old bell. He lifted the receiver.
"Mr. Yamoto! Konban wa, hello! Yes, Mr. Yamoto, your coyote is ready for delivery. I'm waiting on my courier to pick him up for you. No, customs are never a problem, the right people in the right places and all. Yes, he will be arriving within the week as promised. Thank you, Mr. Yamoto. Sayonara"
He placed the handpiece gently back in it's cradle and smiled up at Steven. "Well, you will be leaving for your new home shortly, my pretty coyote. It was such a pleasure working with such a soft pelt as yours. It formed perfectly, you should be proud."
Next to a large wooden shipping crate labled "International Remains. Do Not Open." in several languages, Steven the coyote stood nude, with one paw partially covering his sheath and balls, and his other covering his muzzle with a surprised look on his muzzle and glass blue eyes that William was especially proud of. He sighed and stood up, stretching, then gently ran his palm over the blond fur of Steven's chest. "Good night, kiddo."
William proceeded up the stairs, shutting the basement lights off behind him and leaving Steven in the dark.
~FAF