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Fox Hunt 4 - 2012-0913.2254 Adult anthro characters, adult situations and language, nudity. All text and situation (c)2012 Kevin Foxboy

Anyway, by this time I was quiet, and I heard the hounds baying and Alice's off-key short yap. The sexy Beagle bitch came around a bend in the road and Stan had noticed my trail sign, off the path at the fourth aid station. Of course, he'd seen the post and tray with energy drink still there, so he knew I hadn't taken it.

And here the fake fox pawprints ended. Remember I'd gimmicked the ballet slippers with leather pads in canid shape, and the dogs had been running along with theirs making dog prints. My biped stance only leaves hindpaw prints, but the pack turned and followed the path.

Since I'd already sprung the trap, they saw the hole and avoided it. One of the Rottweilers came back and stood in front of it, to warn the horses of the danger. She was a good girl. The fake fur covered her arms and legs, but not her furry bra.

Anyway, Master Alfonse came cantering along on his horse, and saw the bondage cage with me inside feeling really good and starting to moan. I'm fairly sure he was gonna get mad at the hunt being interrupted, until he heard and saw his fox. Master Alfonse is the man who taught me to enjoy the anchor.

Master Alfonse is the HuntMaster, not the owner of the Estate. Although he was technically more important, he didn't make a big show of it and treated Masters Rosen and Williams as peers but not equals.

They told him they'd set a trap for animals, and I'd blundered in because my ankle was still a bit sore. They treated me as their captive, which was their right. When the rest of the Beginners came walking up on their horses, they saw the fox already captured.

Now if you think about it, in real fox hunts they have a trapper cage a fox, then bring it to the start of the hunt and release it, just as Master Alfonse does with Alice and me. I was rather mind-squishy from the anchor rubbing me inside, and I'm not sure these people had seen a man in a fur suit bent over in a cage before.

To be honest, it's humiliating to be seen with my bare rump up in the air only covered with fake bushy tail. I feel nicely degraded, and I like it. I heard some disapproving murmurs from the guests, because I hadn't been so exposed in the bondage cage at the Lounge.

Anyway, I didn't listen to the masters talking, because it's none of my business. But Master Rosen strode to the cage and spanked me again. All I could do was moan because I liked the sting, and I heard several snickers. I was excitingly embarrassed.

When Master Rosen unlocked my ankles, I was confused. I still had the cuffs on my ankles, my wrist cuffs were close-chained and my collar was locked. I was told to back out of the cage, and obeyed. As I came out, I fell to the ground on my knees as a submissive.

*

Alice came up to me and saw me cowering in the fox suit. Her Beagle snout rubbed against mine and she said, "Kevin, are you hurt?" I was afraid to answer, even though I'm required to answer when a Dom/me speaks, because this was a Beagle bitch. Or a girl.

I felt a pull on the leash, and spoke. "I tripped at the third fork and fell onto the mossy rock, then lost the path for a bit. But I can still run." I knew that's what was important, not my comfort. Alice rubbed my snout and giggled. "Nice snoutcuff, foxeh", and felt the fake ears.

I murred, because I enjoyed the attention. Our masters had apparently decided the question of continuing the hunt, and Master Rosen seemed unhappy but accepted HuntMaster Alfonse's opinion. I was to be set free to continue the hunt.

But 'set free' for a submissive is a relative term. I enjoyed the cold hard merciless steel on my soft warm yielding flesh, and wanted it to stay locked on me. I could still run, and t hat's what was important. It would be beyond rude of me to insult the paying guests by stopping.

One of the women spoke up. "I've enjoyed chasing the fox, but if he's been caught, I think we should let the men have him. We'll go back to the Lounge if it's OK. Sir Alfonse, what say you?"

Of course he wasn't a master to a free woman. She was just being polite, not submissive. Master Alfonse's job was to keep the guests happy, so they'd come back and pay for another Hunt. These rich Main Line men and women were used to getting their own way, but politely.

It was put to a vote. Most of the hunters were willing to abort their outing, but almost all preferred to continue. They'd enjoyed chasing me, and saw no reason to quit.

And to be honest, I wanted to run too. I was moaning from the anchor rub, and I wanted Master Rosen to do me more. But I knew my duty was to the whole group of guests. It wasn't really my choice anyway, there wasn't a real disagreement, and I wasn't injured.

So it was a point of honor for me to continue, and not to safeword out of the submissive fox roleplay. I begged Masters Rosen and Williams to let me come back later and resume my place in their cage, and that got a good laugh.

Dalmatian boy had left the group, since it was a discussion between free people. It was a bit of a breach of role, since the dogs were supposed to be on their knees. But he heard me moan, and I hadn't had much to drink since using up the energy drink running.

There was another reason I was uncomfortable, and it had to do with those two drinks. Sure I'd gotten hot and sweated a bit, but the fluids had to go somewhere. Those anchor pokes that had felt so good in my prostate also prodded my bladder.

Dalboy knew I was holding liquid, and he didn't really care much for my comfort, but it was his duty to give our guests a good hunt. He knew I needed energy to complete the run, and relief as well. He padded back to the cage I was still kneeling in front of, and fell to his own furry knees at HuntMaster Alfonse's feet.

*

After a few minutes the Master bothered to acknowledge his dog. "What do you want, Dalmatian?" He'd seen the spots and knew the species, but didn't care who wore the snout mask. It wasn't important anyway. The Dalboy spoke softly but clearly, as a submissive should.

"If the hunt is to continue, Master, the fox has been running and was caged, so his muscles may have stiffened. He may need this drink and a chance to ..." Here he paused, because women were listening, and he was afraid to insult them with mere fox needs.

Mistress Roberta strode confidently up to the kneeling dog and prodded his furry tail with her hunting boot. "... stretch a bit. Isn't that what you mean, dog?" Of course everyone knew it was an African-American in the Dalmatian suit, but Mistress was keeping to role.

The Dalboy didn't flinch at the rude bootwork. In fact I saw his face, and his eyes light up as she worked his anchor. She was making it more difficult for the young man to think clearly, and both of them enjoyed the distraction.

But of course everyone there was adult, and I heard a few snickers from our guests. The Dalboy was saying I needed to open my g-string cup and mark awhile. With my ankles still in steel cuffs but unchained, I could run at full stride, and with a few inches between my wrist cuffs, I could even balance.

I was given a few minutes to take care of my needs, and Mistress Roberta suggested the dogs of all genders (there're more than two!) take the time to go off and find their own trees. If you've never seen a pack of submissives keeping to their dog roles while relieving their human tensions, it's rather amusing.

Just make sure to aim away from the fur! Even the girls took the time as I got up and stretched. I begged my captors' indulgence, and the Hunt Club maintenance workers grinned and shooed me off, up the path towards the fifth fork.

I heard the long bugle call of Master Alfonse getting his hunting pack organised again. And we were off! Fox, hounds and horses pounded the dirt path as the double blue flashed past.

*

As this group of guests were Beginners, I let them see my red fox tail as I ran down the path. Master Rosen slipped me something as I walked past him to empty myself, and I'm pretty sure it was for my ankle. He winked at me as if to say, "I'm not done with *you*, fox, you're gonna come back here soon!"

Which I was willing to do, now I knew he wasn't just going to hurt me. I think I've said I enjoy a mild spanking, and I *did* enjoy his anchor work. I had to get my mind back on my duty to provide a fun hunt.

Now remember my capture was at the fourth station, and I was headed for the fifth. I decided to take the left fork this time just to avoid being boring, and rolled to flatten the grass as I broke a few leaves off a friendly tree.

It was my duty to mark the alternate trail for the Beginners. Of course Stan and Alice milled around like dogs getting the scent, so that delayed the pack a few minutes. The Hunters had a chance to catch up to the Hunt Club's dogs, and I'd left the energy drink bottle when I bent over to roll.

At the fifth fork I was still jogging strong, because the Beginner paths are fairly smooth, aimed between the hills. It was time to go South, to close in on the Lounge, and I'd already been tricky enough, so I jinked right instead.

Now the North Fork goes past a frog pond and it's a bit swampy. I thought about trying to use a leafy branch to blot out my pawprints, but of course that would leave its own trail sign. I turned around and jogged backwards for about fifty feet,

What I was curious about was whether or not any of the Beginner Hunt people would notice the prints made by the leather spacers on my ballet slippers pointed the wrong way. I know animal foxes are supposed to be tricksters and mischievous.

So I tried to pretend I was sly and foxy. I wiggled my rump to let the tail anchor move around and give me a thrill, while making the fake bushy tail swish and show the red marking.

I turned carefully while jogging so I didn't twist either ankle. I think I said how much I enjoyed the heavy steel on my ankles and wrists, and since my wrist cuffs were chained about four inches apart in front of me, I could wipe sweat off my face and stroke the snoutcuff.

I liked its weight too, and the fact it was strapped around my real head. I think a real fox might learn to enjoy the restraint and become tamed, even if he isn't one of those Russian farm- bred pets. I wonder if any of the Hunt Clubs around the Main Line have a submissive woman from that part of the world.

As I've said, we submissives still have minds, and since I wasn't in the bondage cage anymore getting my tail anchor played with, I wasn't squishy in the mind anymore. I passed the frog pond, and somebody jumped in while others just made a low-pitched gulping noise. Or maybe they belched.

OK, past the fifth fork, and on the home stretch! The sixth fork isn't really a decision, since both paths run parallel. I chose the lower one to see if the riders could duck down under the trees, and since I didn't hear any baying or galloping I felt naughty.

So I opened my g-string cup and marked the low alternative. As a male I can mark while I'm jogging, and that's why I said I felt naughty. Since the hunts are on private property I probably could just leave myself out like a real fox or dog.

*

I'm pretty sure nobody would really care, and I'm perfectly used to seeing nude men and women submissives in the undressing room, the showers and the kennel. We've all seen the parts before, and simply being nude isn't sexual.

But I was getting close to the driveway and the manicured lawn, so I rather reluctantly tucked myself away and closed the cup while I kept on. I got a giggle thinking about our usual fox Alice, and wondered if she'd undone her furry bra or panties while jogging though the woods.

I think you'd like seeing a sexy well-toned young woman wearing just fake fox ears and tail, standing completely nude so you could get a good look. Or kneeling at your feet, showing her yummy curves.

Anyway, as I jogged along the double-blue back to the lawn, I heard a commotion back behind me and I slowed down to turn and look. Somebody had managed to get confused by the fox pawprints facing away from the pond and had let their horse sink into the swampy area around the pond.

Now, horses have thin legs to hold all their weight. Their hooves are actually toenails and what looks like knees bent backwards are actually ankles. The real knee is hidden in the flank fur, and that's a lower leg you see, not a thigh.

Anyway, horsie wasn't hurt, and the rider didn't fall off into the pond. I'm not strong enough to carry a person when I role-play a horse, but I do enjoy the harness and reins. I'm learning to balance in the ponyboots, which hold my ankles extended with my heels in the air.

Anyway, I was almost at the Lodge, and nobody had caught up with me. Maybe I should slow down as if I'm winded, which isn't actually too far from the truth. But Master Alfonse had told me to give the Beginners a good run, and he didn't say let them catch me.

Of course, I'd already been captured and released by Masters Rosen and Williams, and I hadn't forgotten about returning to their cabin. I wanted to return their steel restraints too, since I couldn't get the fox mask off with the snoutcuff locked on my head.

But I needn't have worried about evading the hunt. Just before I got to the driveway and courtyard, I felt a pull on my leash. Yes I know, a real fox wouldn't have one, but I'm a human submissive and I'd been leashed by a Master. He hadn't said I was allowed to remove it.

I was startled to feel the pull. Somehow the hand loop had gotten untied and it had tangled in an irrigation fixture. I knew not to damage the Hunt Club's property. And I was a well-trained boy who knew to kneel at a leash tug.

I didn't even think, I just stopped and fell to my knees. I heard the baying of the dog pack as they ran up, and surrounded me as if they'd caught me. They were role-playing dogs, and I was the fox. I tried to pretend I'd been caught and had to snap at the dogs, but of course my snoutcuff stopped me.

Even though it wasn't *my* snout, and I could easily talk and bite, my human teeth don't match a dog's forty-two and elongated jaws. Or a fox's, which is a vulpine while dogs are canine. We're all canids.

*

Anyway, I hadn't made it to the Lounge cabin and safety. I've never seen Alice run as a fox with a leash, although she's certainly been leashed as a submissive girl plenty of times. Also as a captured vixen.

I'd lost the hunt. I hoped the Beginners weren't too disappointed, so I let the dogs pounce on me and roll me over like dogs subduing a vulpine. If I haven't said it before, I really like being held down and subdued.

Anyway, Master Alfonse cantered up, I mean his horse did and he rode it. He seemed pleased that his hunting dogs had stopped me from getting away, and let them mock-bite me to make me stop trying to get away.

As the rest of the guests came up on their horses, they heard their HuntMaster sound his horn and grab me by the scruff of my neck as a victory prize. I sure hoped they weren't gonna cut my tail off and give it to a guest as a prize.

Of course, it was a fake tail and it wouldn't hurt to remove it. They could detach the tail from my anchor easily enough, and the gift shop sells plaques with fox tails as souvenirs. But the guests hadn't caught me.

Now, I may not have mentioned what happens if a fox wins the hunt. If foxes get to the cabin, they're safe, and when they wait for the hunters, they can get down on all fours and stretch, then get up and wander away.

Of course it's a submissive boy or girl in the costume, and when the hunt's done, we go back to the undressing room and let the valet undress us. It's the valet's job to see that the fake fur isn't damaged or the costume torn, and to get the mud off.

I think I said the fake fur is water-resistant. After we've been in a few hunts we get to learn how to care for the fur. Low-pressure cold water rinses the major mud off, and it's held up so it drains. More water pushes the fur up and gets to the rest of the dirt.

Then air pushes the fur around to let it dry from the undercoat out. The fake fur is bonded to a loose nylon net, rather like a screen, and it lets our sweat out so it's not too hot even in summer.

The sweat gets rinsed off from inside the costume after it's removed. Sometimes we have to air-dry it, and it's forced warm (not hot) air to avoid damage. I'm not sure how the valet combs the outside fur, I suppose it takes lots of practice to remove fur mats without pulling the fake fur out.

Anyway, without the fake fur we're practically nude. They even take the fake tail, but leave the anchor. It feels odd without the tail brushing our bare rumps around the g-strings, but that anchor feels good wiggling around in our rumps. Most times we get to keep the furry ears and snout mask on.

Because we're still role playing dogs or foxes, we just let the valet take our costumes to clean and dry, and we go back to the undressing room. There's a special tail-anchor bidet in the Enema Room next to the showers, and I'm sure you know we remove the anchor and rinse it off.

Then we empty ourselves again, and reapply the anchor. It feels so empty and lonely when it's out! When I have to get dressed to go back to Vanilla World I'm always sad. But I've got a life outside the Hunt Club and it's not my anchor, just the one they've assigned to me.

Giggle, I never told you about the fitting room! I figured y'all didn't care for the details. Maybe you just want me to shut up and get on with being a fox. And what happens to the losers.

*

Well, I was one this time. My first try at being the prey had gone fairly well, and most of the guests were satisfied. In fact, most of them crowded around the run where I was taken and leashed to a post.

A real fox would have been caught and tied too. It'd fight, until the dogs beat it up enough. So we gave the guests some more enjoyment watching Stan and Leroy bait me and knock me down. What I liked was when the sexy Beagle bitch padded over and sat on me.

Now if you think about her furry bra rubbing against my chest as she rolled me over and sat on me, you might like the furry panties on my crotch. Alice made sure to hold me down and dominate me, and I *was* a twenty-some human male.

Well, this is an adult story so you can guess what Alice made me do. Yes, right there in public with everyone watching. While the pack dogs took advantage of the steel wrist and ankle cuffs, Mistress Roberta unlocked the short chain while Master Ernest held my wrists.

I wasn't allowed to even struggle as they spread my arms and legs and chained me down. You may have been wondering what all those steel rings set in the walls and floor are used for. I hadn't been allowed to undress or clean up, and I was muddy from the hunt.

I was going to have to show myself to everyone as the pack chained me spread-eagled on the Lounge hunt tropy room floor. Several doggy bitches started removing my furry costume arms and legs, slowly revealing my tanned skin with a sheen of sweat.

Of course my male, uh, musk was stronger when I exercised, and Master Alfonse told two of the Dalmatians to make sure my g-string wasn't disturbed. The problem was, I'm a healthy young adult male, and Alice the sexy subbe was sitting on my crotch removing the velcro seams on the two costume arms.

I'm sure you know what happened. My human cock woke up, and since I don't have a canid baculum to hold it (there *is* a surgery for implant) I have to do all the work with hydraulics.

My blood was running hot from the exercise, and now I was held, *very* securely, I started to give in to the inevitable shudder of submissive pleasure. None of the Hunt club guests was a vanilla, and they didn't mind seeing me being stripped.

If you've never worn a tail anchored deeply in your rump, you don't know how *very* good I felt to have it wiggled around. Now the tail itself is fake, so I don't get any feeling from being fondled. I think I'd like a real tail to swish around...

OK, I'm on the carpet spread out with a sexy woman on me. See, I told you there's a lot of pleasure in submission.

*

Now this next part has sexual situations and descriptions. If you were offended by Alice sitting on me and stripping me, skip ahead. But then why read this story after being warned its adult?

While the dogs and I were in the Hunt Club lounge with the paying guests, we had another little itch we needed scratched. I was chained securely and Alice had removed the furry costume.

All I had left was my fake fox ears, the snout mask with steel cuff locked around my real head, the skimpy g-string and ballet slippers. Oh, and the heavy steel ankle and wrist cuffs. If I'd called yellow on the role play someone would have unchained my wrists.

That's the rule, this isn't /Roots/ slavery, it's just consensual bondage under the Safe Sane and Consensual Guidelines for Adult BDSM Role play.

However, I wasn't really being hurt, and I'm not a quitter. It's a point of honor that I can take a little rough handling. And Alice was being only slightly rough, holding me down and sitting on me.

Now she'd been running with the pack, and she and the other bitches were physically warm with increased heart rates. I was a caught fox, and I dunno what real dogs do to real foxes.

What Alice did was let the audience watch her strip me, and she took some time rubbing my arms and legs with the fake fur as she removed it. It was for the entertainment of paying guests, not me. But I couldn't help responding as a young adult male, and I'm enough of a sub I don't get embarrassed being shown.

The only thing between my naughties and Alice's furry panties was my cup, and she giggled as she saw my cock stirring within the long pouch made for it. In case I haven't mentioned it, the g- strings we wear hold a male's assets up and out, and separate them to become a display covered only by the rough unbleached cloth.

So it's not just your department-store men's bikini briefs. These cover males decently but not at all modestly. Modesty is for free people anyway. I don't miss it, but I have to be careful back in vanilla land.

With a sexy hot bitch rubbing me in exciting places and swatting my rear around the fake tail, I was in no condition to refuse her desires. Alice began to dominate me, and force me to respond to her as a male. I was willing to obey her.

She still wore the Beagle costume, furry arms and legs, floppy ears and dog snout mask. She took advantage of me chained spread out under her, and bent down to rub my abs and chest with her snout. I had no choice but to enjoy it, and I was fading off to squishy land again.

Now if I'm really being shown, a woman orders me to lick her. As a dog I'm on my knees and I crawl to her. Then I bend down and lick her feet, first her right foot's outer side, then inner side, left inner side, left outer side.

And I lick from her toes all the way back to her ankles. If I'm allowed, I lick back to her heels and the tops of her arches, then go back to her toes. If you've never had a submissive lick your feet, please come and rent one.

Or return if you have been licked. We're role-playing dogs and they lick feet. Real dogs have nice long wide wet tongues, but I have to keep wetting mine in my mouth.

*

Anyway, Alice was rubbing my chest with her leather dog mask, and I was going squishy-minded and started to moan. Even the laughter from the guests as I became more like a beast failed to stop me from enjoying her teasing.

Of course a male can only take so much teasing before stiffening. I begged Alice to release me, and she giggled because we both knew it wasn't my arms and legs I wanted released.

I wanted Alice to open my g-string cup and let my cock stiffen in the sleeve. It hold a male quite delightfully as he enlarges, and keeps the blood in so he doesn't go flaccid.

But a woman can't get her own relief that way, and Alice was in need of some male meat. I wish real foxes would be forced to pleasure their captors instead of hurting them. Everyone would be a lot happier.

I was helpless, lying chained at Alice's mercy. Of course she's a subbe, not a Domme, so she was pausing to let anyone stop her if they wanted. Nobody did, so she stroked her own panties, and you may not know the fur is just worn like a belt over it.

Alice slipped her panties off, right there in public, because she's a subbe and her contract says it's ok. As the dogs hovering nearby caught her scent, even the Beginners noticed how willing she was for sex.

Now of course women take more teasing to get interested than men, and Alice had been rubbing herself every once in a while during the entire hunt. I never knew it before, but that's why she dog-yapped off-key.

My cock was exposed but my balls still bulged in my g-string cup. Alice put her hands on her own hips and rubbed up her own flanks to get my interest. She moved to the underside of her furry bra and bounced her yummy breasts slowly and took time to enjoy herself.

You've probably guessed that I know they're yummy from seeing the shape, fondling and groping them, and licking them in their bra. They do taste quite good, and with her exercise sweat the scent was keeping me hard.

Alice reluctantly left off feeling herself when Mistress Roberta gently poked Alice's Beagle tail. It was time for the sex, and I'm glad that a captive is allowed pleasure.

Alice's uncovered crotch stroked against my leg, and we both liked it. She slid up and down me, still outside her, until she stimulated herself enough to make her labia puffy and her clit wake up.

I wanted her, and I was squishy enough I forgot to ask first. I bucked my hips up against her, and she knew I was willing to serve her pleasure. As her opening brushed against me, my engorged pleasure organ slipped against her and requested entry.

*

My sword rose to the challenge of her portcullis as she forced my entry into her. I later found out the crowd appreciated her power over me as she engulfed me in her hot moist sheath.

I was only aware of the intimate caress of her tunnel and my struggle to remain hard inside her. I bucked under her, slipping myself deeper and harder, and she used her weight against my chained body to impale herself.

So apparently Alice enjoyed my organ and wanted to make the most of it. Some part of my animal brain knew how to please her, because the rest was too squishy to think straight.

Yes, I know. Alice was role-playing a Beagle bitch and I was a fox tod, so we should have been having sex doggie-style. But then I wouldn't be flat on my back with the fake tail between my wide- spread legs, and Alice wouldn't be driving the anchor so deliciously deep in my rear, caressing my prostate and squishifying my mind.

Alice has certainly enjoyed my efforts in that regard. As subbe and sub, we're both happy to take a little pain to provide pleasure to another, and as Alice was dominating me it was her pleasure that was important.

As I increased speed under Alice, she increased her rubbing over my stiff organ, controlling the sex and using me as a living toy. As she moved with me, my cock almost exited her, and then thrust roughly deep inside.

The veins of my cock stroked inside her cunt and she enjoyed it. The roughness of her power distracted me from cumming too soon, and I'm sure that's why she chose such a vigorous technique.

I was surprised Alice was so rough, so Domme. It was a side of her I hadn't seen before. Sure we've had rough sex, but it was always at a man's direct order. Men like to see us subs get roughed up.

Women tend to demand more handling, licking, caressing, kissing of their heating bodies. But since that could easily lead to male domination the subs are always restrained, often chained on their backs so the woman has control.

I wanted to lick, caress and kiss Alice, I needed to prove to the Hunt Club's guests, employees, subs and subbes that the fox was very tame, very submissive to their demands. I was trained to please, and I hardly ever call yellow on the rough roleplay.

And I needed to prove to the male and female dogs in the hunting pack that I was subdued, and they didn't need to bite or scratch. I think I said I was mind-squishy, and part of it was the fact that the pack surrounded me and took turns worrying my fingers, hands, wrists, forearms, elbow, upper arms and shoulders.

As well as my toes, feet, ankles, shins, calves, knees, thighs and hips. We were all displays for the free men and women. As Alice was on top of me it was her right to play with my chained body, and as she took liberties with my flesh the repeated waves of pleasure washed over me.

The rest of my mind went away and I wasn't aware of who was forcing my responses. This is why I love being submissive, the freedom to just take the strong jolts as my muscles convulse with pleasure. It's why I signed the contract, and why my life outside the Hunt Club was receding into dream.

*

The hunt pack was trying to distract me from Alice's bare breasts bouncing against her, and my chest as she bent down to rub my snout with hers. In all the rough sex she was forcing on me, she'd exposed my crotch and removed her furry panties and bra.

But she left the fake fox mask on me, and she was still wearing her Beagle snout. The weight of the steel snoutcuff made it difficult for me to look down my body at her bare thighs, or look her in the face. The fact our mouths were covered prevented us from kissing, and kept her from giving in to her natural submissive desire to beg me to control her.

Having human sex while wearing a snout mask wasn't one of my fetishes before college. Well, I was interested in sex, but I mean the leather stuff was new. I'd been restrained during sex once before, but it was just a kink till I met Alfonse Harriman, and he brought me into the sub lifestyle.

Well, as you know, women have more stamina when it cums to sex. One of the main things they teach submissive men is self-denial, and it's easier to refrain completely than to hold back while a sexy hot female works on you. Trust me on this, OK?

And c'mon over to get trained and find out all about submission yourself.

*

I was unable to resist Alice's forceful use of my body for long. I loved her power over me as she bounced up and down on my captive organ, and I wanted her to enjoy my changing angle of attack and twisting, but I was chained tightly and she controlled my hips.

Alice was moaning her enjoyment of my efforts under her, and I was groaning my appreciation of her gift. All to soon I felt my balls tingle and rise, still held warm, up and out, separated by the g- string cup. My breathing had become erratic, and I don't know if I was hyperventilating or struggling with lack of oxygen from the exercise.

I couldn't seem to remember the words to beg her to finish me. I just released my hot seed into her warm tunnel, trying to reach the end and paint her innards. With a final scream of pleasure, I fell back like a sack of grain, and Alice screamed her pleasure just a very-rapid- heartbeat later.

She collapsed on me, and kept a strong grip on my cock with her cuntal muscles. I really wish I'd gotten that baculum surgery, so I could remain semi-erect inside her. What I really wish is that I could get a knot installed just like a real canid, so she'd have something to hold onto.

Why should animal dogs and foxes have all the fun?