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Fluffy by pyrostinger

It took a week of well drinks in this shitty, hole-in-the-wall bar before I finally saw him again. It took another few days before I could talk to him.

See, there's this gray fox that comes around here every once in a while, or so I've heard. I ended up hearing a lot of things about him, though, because he seems to cause a stir. Wild rumors, about him being some kind of monster, about him working for the mob or the government or both, about how he went psycho once and killed an entire banquet hall full of people and they had to close the hotel where it happened for a week and a half just to clean it up. Like I said, a lot of things, most of them bad... but all interesting. See, the thing that got my feline attention is what some ferret told me, drunk as hell: if you put a collar on this guy, then he'll do whatever you tell him to. That, and he called himself 'Fluffy,' but that can't be right.

I first saw him a little over a month ago at my usual haunt. I was looking for the next pick up or maybe Mr. (or Mrs.) Right, drinking some little fruity thing some other cat got for me. I didn't remember what it was. But I saw this gray fox just wander in, and just from that moment he caught my eye. Yeah, he had a bunch of guys around him, but it was pretty clear that he stood apart from them, aside of staying silent while those jackasses (in one case literally) started going on about where the 'bitches' were at or something. I was starting to hate that dog culture of being 'one of the pack' and I half-wanted to tell them to go to the gay bar down the street, but then that would mean the fox would go, too.

I tried to talk to him but those stupid 'bros' were all in the way the entire time, laughing and carrying on and hitting on ladies and throwing beer all over the place. It was next to impossible to get a word in. So I asked about him. Apparently he'd come around here before, but Carl, the skunk bartender, told me not to talk to that guy "cuz he's bad news". And that was the first I heard of how much of a badass he supposedly was. Like that ever stopped me. Maybe it was just cats being cats, but I wanted him then, and I want him now, probably because he's such a bad guy.

The more I did find out about him, the more interesting he became. Maybe it was a bit of an casual obsession. I kept my eyes open and ears perked, and it was about two weeks later at this other joint that I heard the collar thing. It was such an odd quirk that maybe I ended up fixating on it. I found the bar where he seemed to hang out regularly, cased the joint, and asked some questions after alcohol worked its magic. The place was seedy as all hell, though, and I always got this vague feeling of everybody watching me because I was an outsider. The fox had the same reaction from the regulars. I didn't know what was true and what wasn't, but I sure as hell was gonna find out.

Finally, I had gotten up the courage to go up to the bar and catch the attention of the tender, an old, fat raccoon. I had timed it so that the fox's drink was low, so he'd be looking for another if he was a drinker. With the message sent, I watched while the tender waved over a waitress, who finally delivered the drink to the fox. He'd been sitting there, staring out at nothing when the drink was brought down in front of him, instantly perking him up. It was almost as if he snapped out of some kind of stupor. They spoke for a little bit when the pretty little otter pointed in my direction, and I raised a glass in acknowledgement. She moved away, and a moment or two after that the fox got up and was headed my way. The way he moved was almost effeminate, hips swaying just a little bit, that thick tail flicking behind him. It was kinda cute.

If truth be told, I wasn't really prepared for so soon a confrontation. But hey, maybe he was interested. I composed myself as the fox sat down, and stared at me. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice almost seeming like he was bored. "And why'd you send me a drink?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to--"

"And thanks," he said, taking a drink.

"...for what?"

"The drink," he said at the end of the long sip, where a good quarter of the mug was now empty. "So what do you want?" he asked, staring at me. His ears were up in my direction, attentive where they had been splayed.

"What?"

"What do you want?" he repeated. "You got me the drink, cat, so you want something. Right?"

Oh. "Yeah. Wanted to talk to you."

"About?"

This wasn't quite what I had imagined. And I could be more charming than this, especially for the experiment. My paw itched, and I brought it up to take a sip of my own beer to calm my nerves a bit. He was more direct than I had imagined, so I was direct back. "You."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You seeing anybody?"

"Yeah. You." I frowned, unable to understand him when he went on. "I see that bartender, too, and these people in the bar. What a strange question."

Oh. Was he slow? "No, no no, I meant, like, is there anybody in your life that you really like, that you're dating."

"Dating?" Immediately, his ears lost their attentiveness, moving out to the sides. "No. Not dating anybody, especially not you."

"Fine by me." I dropped my voice slightly, though I'm guessing the din of the bar was ample enough cover for what I said next, "I didn't want to cross a line when I say that I want you to ride me hard and put me away wet."

I had his attention again. His drink even stopped on the way to his mouth, and I even saw a small little smile appear on his lips. At least, I think I did. Regardless, he drank down the rest of his beer. "Okay," he said, "I can do that." He got up and took a step. The second step didn't go so well as he tipped over, collapsing to all fours.

I wasn't fast enough to prevent the fall, but as I checked on him, the only way he responded was by shaking silently. His ears were even splayed to the side, but I didn't think he was crying. If he was, it was the oddest damn cry that I've ever heard. It was a very, very quiet sound, almost hiccups or something similar. I asked him if he was okay again, and then he seemed to notice my prescence, at which point he threw back his head and laughed. Again, it was not quite right. He laughed, and loudly, but it was just a bit forced. At least, that was my guess, and it was hard to put a finger on what, exactly was off. The longer it went on, though, I could catch where each individual "Ha" began and ended.

Nobody seemed to laugh along with him, so he wiped the smile off his face pretty quickly, settling into the neutral, predatory stare I'd been so intrigued by when I first saw him. The ears were still swept off to the side, though. "Let's go," he said. Instead of leading me out, though, he went behind the bar, nodding to the old raccoon while grabbing a set of keys off a hook. He gave me a look that clearly said "Coming?" as he went into the back room. I followed soon enough. I'd gone this far, and I wasn't about to lose my chance, and he only wobbled a little. That didn't mean, though, that I was silent as we went down the hall.

"What, you own the bar or something?"

"No. It's a job perk."

Job perk? "What do you do?"

"Garbage disposal," he said, unlocking a door and moving inside.

The room didn't have a whole lot in it. I looked around, and all I saw was a slightly dingy bed, the paint on the walls peeling, and an uncovered lightbulb hanging in the middle of the room. And, of course, the fox. As soon as I closed the door, the fox got up close and personal, slamming me against it. That had to be the most intense glare I'd ever seen, those yellowish eyes boring up at me. "What are you up to?" came the question, as flat as before.

It was almost like coming face to face with a feral animal. Before I knew it, I started babbling. "I-I just wanted to get you into bed, I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh." Instantly, the glare became less piercing, though he was still very much invading my space. "Good thing I'm not hungry, then." I was left to puzzle out what that meant while trying to stop my heart from popping out of my chest when he finally took a step back. "Sorry," he said.

"It's alright," I said automatically.

"Wanna suck my dick?"

I was jarred again, in a different way, but now there was almost a smile on his face... or near enough that his mostly expressionless face got to. I swear, he'd have a wagging tail if he was another kind of canine. When his ears began to droop a little, I nodded. If he wasn't going to do anything ludicrous like try to eat me, I figured I would be okay.

The ears went up again, and I saw a brief smile cross his face as he dropped his pants then and there. Either he got hot quickly, or he'd been revved up ever since we got back here. He was pretty hard, and his cock went from dark to an angrier red as it got to the top, thicker near the base. Not the biggest dick I've seen, but that's because I've been with a few horses and giraffes. I liked his cock, though, so I kneeled down in front of him, purring a bit as I squeezed him around his considerable base. All things considered, he fit pretty neatly into my hand, so I squeezed him a bit as I started licking at the tip.

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't cute to watch his ears wilt to the sides like they did. It was. It was adorable, but I only purred because I still felt the slight pain in my back from when he pushed me against the door. Adorable as he may be, I wasn't quite sure what reaction I'd get if I told him that. Better to err on the side of caution. Besides, he did have a nice size dick, so I tilted my head a bit as I took him into my muzzle, letting my tongue slowly slide over him, and it was nice.

I heard a soft whine, and looked up as I started to bob over the tip, tongue flicking around it. His face was about the same as before, though now his ears were a little lower, and his eyes were half-open. I had to suppress a little giggle as I kept going on him, taking more of him into my mouth, rolling his thick hardness around my tongue. His scent was picking up as well, and I caught him as being savage, dangerous, sorta like some kinda feral. I liked that.

By now, I had my hands on his butt, squeezing him a little while my lips touched his base, tongue swiping all over his underside. He shivered, again as I pressed a bit of nails to him, making some kind of noise of pleasure when I started slurping and bobbing over him again. It was good to know that I wasn't out of practice. The last few times I had a fling, it was pretty much lube-up-and-go. Not that there's anything wrong with that, cuz we both got our rocks off, but sometimes the mood strikes that I just wanna go down on somebody.

I was teasing him now, definitely. I had my head tilting to the side as I slowly pulled back on him, making sure to look right into those eyes of his as I did it. The fox had his teeth bared now, and he felt like he was trembling in a different way. I gave his ass another squeeze, and he made a sound that started as a yelp, and ended as a growl. I pulled off, grabbed him by the knot, and just started licking him over like a lollipop.

Abruptly, he gripped me by my head, jerked me away from his cock. It was painful, but I suppressed any hurt sounds and just stroked him. When he looked down, though, his eyes made me pause. There was definitely something not... sentient in his gaze, and it made me wonder how much I had bit off. Another growl, but then he closed his eyes, breathed for a moment, and opened them again. He spoke, and it was almost like he had to make an effort to do so. "What happened to riding?" he asked.

"Riding's good," I said quickly, my voice strained. He let go, and I was thankful. I developed sudden questions about what the hell I was dealing with as I staggered to my feet. Though at this point, it really didn't matter.

The sheets on the bed looked like they hadn't been changed in a couple weeks or months. Still, they looked like the cleanest thing in the room. I sat down, and the fox only had to look at me before I took off my pants. When he looked away, I quickly pulled the collar from my pocket, tucking it against my hip. It felt pretty crazy, actually. Essentially, I was still planning on going through with things, even as he crawled on the bed, still with his shirt on as he slathered up two fingers with some kind of lube and jammed them under my tail. I bit my lower lip, not making a whole lot of sound while he fingered me for a little bit, then spread some slickness over himself. This wasn't going to be gentle, and I couldn't expect it any other way. I don't even know if he had another way of doing things.

He was a bit easier as he brought my legs up, grinding himself into me with slowly longer pushes. I bared my teeth, hissed, but didn't really make much more noise than that. For his part, the gray fox had his tongue out, hunching over me as another inch crammed into me. I had no idea how long he was, just that he as about the size of my muzzle, maybe a little bigger. Of course, going down one end and shoving into another were two entirely different things, as my rump told me.

The fox licked his lips as he ground himself into me, looking down but not really looking at me. Sorta like I was just a hole for him to stick his dick into. He started up shortly after, half of him pulled out to just shove inside, drawing a whine from me as I threw my head back and hung onto the dingy sheets.

Yeah, it hurt. Of course it did. But it didn't hurt for as long as I thought it would, as the fox just kept up his steady, kinda fast pace, grinding the head of his dick into me. It did start feeling good, then really good, and I was panting as well and drooling onto my stomach. I actually had to concentrate, though. The fox was so caught up in things, he didn't notice my arm move any, then tense up as I prepared to spring it on him. It was all a matter of timing.

He let out a whine at some point. I guessed that he was getting close. A second whine, and I sprang into action, quickly snapping the collar around his neck and tugging him forward by the lead I had pre-attached to the collar. The fox's eyes popped open, and he yelped, slipping out of me. Abruptly, he looked right into my eyes, his own as wide as dinner plates. Everything stopped, though the scent of lube and pre and fox hung heavier in the air.

I acted quickly. I had no idea how he didn't, like, disembowel me in the second we had staring at each other, but another second wouldn't go by without me acting. I jerked his shirt over his head, and he made some kinda squeak. Before he could do anything else, I had the shirt behind him, wrapped around his arms, and twisting it so that he was effectively tied up. He also had a surprising amount of fluff in his shirt, but it was something that I noted later. Right now, I was concentrating on immobilizing the fox as much as possible, and holding him there.

The wierd thing about it, though, is that he didn't move at all. I guess he was making little sounds of pain as I pushed him to his back, but he didn't even kick at me. His eyes were just big and round like dinner plates, staring at me but not fighting back at all. We stared at each other for a few moments before I had to ask. "Why aren't you struggling?"

"'Cuz," he said quickly.

"'Cuz why?"

"'Cuz collar," he told me.

Holy shit. "And 'collar' means...?"

"Collar means I listen. To you," he said, nodding at me.

"Because I put the collar on you."

He nodded promptly, still looking at me. Well I'll be damned. I owe that ferret a drink. Or maybe several. Or maybe none, because he was a drunk when I met him, so odds are he wouldn't even remember me. It didn't matter, so I put it out of my head as I sat back a little bit. "Okay, then. Let's have some fun. Only this time, you suck me."

The fox hesitated, long enough to make me wonder if he was playing me, and I was about to get my chest caved in or something. But it was only for a harrowing moment before he squirmed briefly. "Can't move," he stated.

Oh, right, I forgot about that. I reached over, I grabbed his arm and hauled him closer, his tail tucking between his legs. I brought him back up to my half-hard cock, and after another instant of looking at it and at me, he started licking. I smiled and nodded to him, encouraging him with some meaningless prattle and he seemed to respond, those golden eyes of his flicking up at me as if for approval. I smirked at him. "Mm. Nice, but I did tell you to suck me, didn't I?"

The fox paused in the middle of a slurp, then pulled back a bit. He seemed to stare intensely at my shaft before his muzzle went up and down, taking me in it. I had a second where my heart beat faster as I saw a flash of his teeth, half-remembering something about him actually eating people. The moment passed, though, so I decided that the rumor was just that. That fox was very good with his mouth, though, and I groaned, looking up at the ceiling while he did this thing with his tongue.

Actually, if I thought about it, I would guess that the thing he's doing with his tongue was sorta like the thing I did with my tongue. He was copying me? Ha ha, that's fantastic! I wondered if the gray fox could improvise, so I started pushing my hips up, tugging on his head a bit. He made a sound and squirmed, eyes flicking up at me again, those ears going back. I guess he didn't like it.

No reason to push it like that, but I did enjoy him sucking me for a time. He wasn't mechanical, and when I stopped pissing him off he seemed to get into it. Now when he looked up at me, it was more a sultry glance then angry feral ready to bite. I did keep his head down there as he made me hard again, and by then I was enjoying it too much to stop. So he did. He pulled off me, dodged my head, and then rasped "What happened to riding?" He did, however, keep stroking me, which was a bit comforting despite the glare he shot me.

I could jerk on the leash. I could remind him what's what, who is who here. I didn't. So I just told him to mount up. He started to go in between my legs when I pulled him upward. "There's a boy," I said, almost to myself, but I think he heard me. Weird thing is that instead of annoyed, he seemed pleased, ears all splayed out to the sides as he sat back on me, letting out a breath. I was gritting my teeth, though, because damn that fox was tight. I don't think anybody had mounted him, if at all, in a long time. It made me feel a little pleased that I was.

Nails drew down my chest, stopping as he held on and started moving. I could feel his erection move over my stomach, and he was still slick from earlier. I moved, pushing my legs to get him going more, and he eventually started to respond to that. It was pretty clear that he wanted to move at his own pace, and I was pretty fine with that. After all, if he kept squeezing me like he did, he was gonna break my cock off.

My hands drifted up his legs and thighs, holding him down while bucking a few times. His nails dug into my chest a bit, and I heard his breathing get heavier as he sped up. Baring my teeth, I gripped harder on his hips, bringing him down harder. He kept kneading into my chest, and at some point it stopped hurting. I still felt the pain, but it wasn't unpleasant, and if I was to guess it was because wires were getting crossed in my head.

Abruptly, I noticed that there was only one set of claws in my chest, and I thought I caught a hint of blood. I had closed my eyes at some point, and looked down to find the fox quickly working himself. He was panting harshly, bouncing in my lap. He stopped suddenly, the nails dragging down to my stomach as he leaned back against my knees, grinding his rump into me. The sounds he was making was pretty cute, all lusty and squeaky. Another harsh bark, and he was jumping again, stabbing himself with me when he abruptly hunched over.

I felt him go on my stomach and chest. His hips were rolling around in a circle, and he was damn near trying to choke off my dick while the spatter tapered off. I snarled, claws in his hips, forcing him to stop and to bounce again. The fox keeled over onto my chest, but I didn't stop pumping into his tight ass, his tail up high as he panted. I could feel that edge coming up fast, so I got a good grip of his rump, slamming myself inside. There was no doubt in my mind that I was gonna get off, and it was gonna happen inside-- fuck!

Okay, did not see that coming. Well, I did, but just not... then. Yes, fuck yes. I was breathing hard as I emptied myself, but I forced myself to let go of him and lay back. That felt good, it felt great. At this moment, I didn't care if this fox was some kinda fucking mob/spook monster that ate people. He was a damn good lay.

After a while, he started to roll his hips in a circle again, and I was a little sensitive but not unpleasantly so. His breathing was more even, and he even nuzzled against me a little bit. Not sure what that meant. The fox's fur was thick, and he kinda felt like a blanket, only one that had is own warmth. Wait, was he falling asleep?

I shook him, and he let loose the deepest growl I've ever heard before scratching at his neck. "Nggf. Collar. Want collar off. Please?" he grunted me.

"Are... you gonna kill me if I do?"

"No. Tired. Wanna sleep, collar itchy."

His voice was kinda slow and drifting. I nudged the fox off of me, then slowly took off the collar and leash. The fox scratched at his neck, rolled to his side and I think he started to snore. I waited for a moment, just to make sure that he was asleep, and pulled myself out of the bed. I just... did not feel safe with the collar off. I wasn't sure how he would react. So long as he was asleep, fine. He snorted and snuffled a few times as I dressed, and I froze for a solid minute or two before I was sure he was gone, my heart thundering in my chest.

I got out of the door behind the bar, and the bartender was surprised to see me. The raccoon looked at my wrinkled clothing, probably caught a whiff of my scent, then poured a shot of whiskey. I caught a glance of the label; it was good stuff. He pushed it into my hand, saying "On the house." I drank it because he was right, I needed it.

-*-*-

I spent the next few weeks getting pretty drunk in more usual haunts, thankful that I was still alive. I had a story to tell now, but I don't think I could tell it. After a while, I started to hit on other people again, maybe looking for a more normal lay that would calm my nerves. Of course, just when I was eyeing prospects one night did somebody drop themselves right across from me. It was loud, and crowded, but the scent was unmistakable. It was the gray fox, wearing this huge winter jacket. I didn't know it was that cold out.

He eyed me for a few moments. I tried to keep my heart from busting out of my chest. He made a motion with his head, then got up. I hesitated long enough to swallow a sudden frog in my throat before I was able to follow him. He led me past all the bustle out the back door of the bar, in an alley. We were alone, with our breath steaming in the air.

The fox didn't mince words. "Been lookin' for you." The words were delivered without any kind of tone. So far as I know, they were just dropped there, waiting for me to pick them up.

"Yeah, well. Here I am."

"Yeah," he said, then looked away. Was... was he nervous? His ears were all splayed out to the side. "Uh. I had fun. That time." I saw the yellow flash of his eyes, though they seemed more gold again. He wouldn't look up, though. Not often.

What the hell was going on?. "What about it?"

"You left this." Opening his jacket, he brought up the plain black collar and leash. I twitched, mostly because I think I wanted to move in at least five different directions. But then I looked up at him, and his ears were still to the sides. "It's yours, right?" he asked me. "I mean, you still wanna use it?"

I blinked and looked at him, trying to figure out if he was even capable of pulling my leg. The fox's lips were curled back, showing way too many teeth.

I think he was trying to smile.