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Fox Hunt 5 - 2012-1015.0212 Adult anthro characters, adult situations and language, nudity. All text and situation (c)2012 Kevin Foxboy

So OK, I was lying sexually spent, chained spread out in the Main Line Hunt Club's hunt trophy room. I'm a submissive guy, and I've learned I like it. A lot.

I'd been role-playing a fox, and I was hunted. I let my leash get caught on some lawn irrigation equipment, and that let the group of men and women submissives role-playing a pack of hunting dogsp to catch me.

Our usual fox, the vixen Alice, had switched with me as a test of my skills as prey. Now the woman was sitting on top of me, still in her Beagle bitch costume, including the floppy ears and fake snout, furry arms and legs, and fake tail anchored deep in her rump.

What she wasn't wearing any more were her bra and panties. The furry trim was still on the discarded cloth, and she'd stripped my costume arms and legs off, teased me into squishy-minded erection, pulled my rough cloth g-string off, and rubbed her bare crotch on my exposed groin.

I was glad she'd moaned while she made me groan and harden, excited byher domination and power over me. We were both just sex toys, a display for the paying guests, and I wasn't in any mental condition to know if they were disappointed by my failure to get to the cabin and safety.

Now real foxes have good recovery and can have sex frequently. Their balls grow bigger during their sex season, which by an amazing coincidence just happens to be when the vixens come into heat. I wonder how they arranged that?

I'm just a twenty-some red-blooded American Red Fox. Er, I mean male human submissive. I liked Alice, and I've played with her yummy firm breasts under orders. Now I was chained and prevented from pleasing her with my hands.

I still wanted to please Alice, to thank her for her control of me. I had forgotten about the paying audience, which was naughty of me, but she had me so deeply controlled I could only think of her.

However, it wasn't our choice and I was allowed to gasp for air until I calmed down from the aerobic exercise. Being chained and forced to please her was a lot more fun than any exercise DVD. After a little time I'd be up for another rep.

As I slid forlornly out of Alice's firm grip, she removed the mittens that gave her dog paws and covered herself with her bare hands. It wasn't for her modesty, because she's a submissive too and she signed it away with the contract.

Alice knew my seed would drip out of her exciting cunt, and it would be wrong to get the sloppy fluids on the Hunt Club's rug. Of course Master Alfonse knew what she needed and told her to rinse herself.

I was barely aware of the sexy Beagle bitch standing a bit unsteadily and walking off as a human to the Shower Room. She could use a hose attachment to pleasure herself repeatedly, to make sure all the fluids were rinsed out of her.

While Alice was rinsing, I was subjected to exploration by the pack. All those leather snout masks rubbing and stroking me in various intimate places made me drift off to squishy land yet again.

*

Perhaps I need to be punished for my lack of self-control. I'd been captured at the fourth aid station, collared and leashed, stuffed in a bondage cage and made to enjoy it. I still wore the leash Masters Rosen and Williams had clipped on me, as well as their steel collar in addition to my usual leather sub one.

I really enjoy stripping for work, rinsing myself and stuffing the tail anchor deep inside. Lots of times I select a pair of furry ears and let a trainer attach a furry tail, before I remember to put on the rough unbleached cloth g-string.

I'm so used to total nudity here at the Hunt Club I have to be reminded to get dressed when I finish my shift and have to go back to vanilla land. I love the freedom from binding clothing so much I stay nude indoors even in winter.

I'd come to work, stripped, rinsed myself and applied the tail anchor. I stayed nude as I scrubbed the floor, letting the anchor stroke deep inside me as my rump wiggled, and ate my kibble with the other kennel subs and subbes. Their nubile bodies called to me as they knelt nude and scrubbed, but we were there for work.

We weren't allowed to shower after. It was quite warm inside while we worked, and we were all a bit sweaty. It helped us feel like animals as we ate kibble and drank water from bowls on the now-spotless floor. We're allowed to feel pride in our work.

The males slept together in one big cage, and at night it was cool so we cuddled and spooned. Even nude, we weren't aroused by each other. The females slept together in another cage across several feet of smooth stone in our kennel, and we were all canids in this building.

There's another whole building here on the Main Line Hunt Club property for the felids. Please rent Helena or George to tell you about pussy- footing around as various cat genera. Of course I'm talking about role-play.

Under the Safe Sane and Consensual Guidelines to adult BDSM role-play it's really the sub/be in charge, saying yes or no to playing the scene. It's a point of honor that we go through with as much as we can take from the Dom/me, and stretch our limits to explore our interests.

There's also the idea of "consensual non-consent" which many of the guests I've served have trouble understanding. Think of it this way. You don't enjoy every minute of your work, but you usually do it anyway because you've essentially agreed by taking the job.

We submissive men and women roleplay for our own pleasure. We actually get off being controlled, and giving the power of decision up to our dominants. As I mentioned, everyone keeps asking for our consent, even when they're rough with us. We love being leashed and chained by strong masters, of any gender.

Even being spanked and cuffed, stuffed into a bondage cage, we always have the right to call yellow to slow down the action, or call red to stop it. Every Dominant is required to listen to his/her sub/be. If they make us use our safeword it means they aren't doing their job right.

While I was still lying chained on my back trying to get my heart rate down from Alice's rough use of my body, I displayed myself shamelessly because we were all adults and we know what the parts are and how they fit. What gave the guests a nice giggle was the fact they'd seen Alice remove my leg furs to expose my g-string, and they'd seen it twitch as she sat on me and undressed.

After my mind cleared I'd remember it wasn't just men that Alice stripped and teased. Or that I hadn't only been sat on by females. I said men slept together, and women in another cage, and having your tail anchor played with feels good whoever's poking you.

When the rubber pokes your prostate in that indescribably exciting waythere's no way to avoid erecting helplessly, and when men take turns with each other we all go mind-squishy. It forces us to put aside any prejudices about race and/or gender when they can all make each other ejaculate.

*

Time out for a bit, OK? When I'm not being sat on or spanked, I can remember the rest of the world and the people I work with. Most of us are male subs or female subbes, because it doesn't take many guards to control us. That's cause we like being controlled.

Now, as a male despite my undersize, I only know how a tail anchor feels in males. I've talked with Ivan and Dmitri, and I have no idea what names they were born with. I'm known as Kevin Fox here at the Hunt Club, but that's not what my birth cert says.

However, Alice really is Alice. She likes the name and can keep it straight in her mind when vanillas talk. Anyway, as you know females have such lovely openings, and I've been told to play with Alice and make her mind squishy.

Stroking a female's tail anchor tends to get her sex hot. I've been around the Shower Room when females rinse themselves, and I've seen inside them. I've helped out in the Enema Room, since sometimes it's hard to balance on the wet tile floor.

If you get a chance to slip a vibrator into a willing female, you may enjoy the practice. Stroke her rump and twist her anchor as you slip the other shaft into her moist pussy. I'm fairly sure she'll enjoy the mutual stroking of her insides when you work her with both.

But people only have two hands, and females also have mouths. If you apply a penis gag she can enjoy sucking on it, and if you use the kind with a feeding tube you can use the fake cum. Here's where having more friends involved is handy.

Elaine is a dark-skinned young subbe of about twenty and a few months. She really gets off being in a small group and letting them chain her wrists apart to a bar hanging from the ceiling, and then spread her legs with another locked to the floor.

It holds her up, but she might get hurt hanging there from her wrists. That's where we come in, holding her while slipping three long thick yummy shafts shaped like hard cocks into her. It feels good to fondle and grope her nude warmth while we work the shafts, and Elaine certainly enjoys the mind squishyness.

It's not just other males working her. Alice likes doing Elaine, trying things she might like too, and most times we take turns doing each other. That means we need three shafts per female, and two per male. If you've never sucked a nice thick long shaft, you're missing some fun.

I think I may have mentioned we're all a bit kinky. I don't mind getting a double-ended penis gag and working it into another male's mouth while he does it to me. When we meet in the middle we lick and kiss, because it's not our sex parts, so it can't be sexual.

I called time out just to ramble for a bit. This chapter is about fox hunting, and my point was just that while Alice rinsed herself out after sex, yours truly was still dirty, sweaty, and chained quite naked in the trophy room.

See, I like being a trophy, and I wanna get better at being hunted so I'm worth winning. With my fox costume mostly removed, still wearing the snout and snoutcuff, the tail and anchor in me, and no g-string, everyone could see my beast response.

*

Elaine and a sub I didn't know came over to lick me clean. Roger is gay, or at least bisexual, so they both knelt down and began my genitals. You might enjoy two heads bobbing down there, and of course they were trained so they took turns licking and swallowing.

Well, the problem with a sexy bitch (dog role-play remember) licking my cock was that it rose again. It was just being polite and letting her tongue get around and under. The sub started licking my balls, and he seemed to like Alice's fluids.

So did Elaine. Apparently these dogs were thirsty, because they definitely slurped the fluids down eagerly. I hope I look that eager when I lick. The next fluid they used on me was soapy water, in a basin Roger brought over and a rough clean cloth Elaine brought.

Now you may like the idea of a sub and subbe working on you. Since I was still securely chained, they were dominating me, doing something to me instead of telling me to do it. The guests wanted to see me done.

You see, the whole pack was role-playing dogs, and I was a fox. We were all canids, so it's appropriate enough to dog-wash me. That's what the basin, water, soap and cloth were for.

I went back to squishyness letting the two work on my neck around the collar, my shoulders and chest. Fingers, hands, wrist cuffs, forearms, elbows, upper arms. Down my ribs and flanks, my bare hips.

Without the fur costume, I was completely bare except for the collars and cuffs, and my human cock showed how I enjoyed the treatment. I still had the snout and snoutcuff on, and Elaine reached inside to rub my real jaws and cheeks.

It felt good being handled, even though I don't have a baby fetish. Elaine seemed to like my cock, and since they'd both just finished tonguing me there, all of my juices were off, and Alice's too. One of the guests stuffed something in my real mouth and told me to suck.

As I said, I don't care to pretend I'm a baby, but it wasn't a milk bottle I was sucking. It was a penis gag, a nice thick long one too, and it had a feeding tube. The lady enjoyed squeezing the bag of fake cum and making me swallow.

*

I'd like to skip ahead a bit, sorry if I'm upsetting you. I was lying naked and chained, spread out and bathed, and I had to get hard from the fun and the cum. I'm not clear on what anyone might have done to me after.

When my mind returned from squishyland, I knew the fake cum had some stuff in it to make me feel really good. I was still naked, still cuffed, and my wrists were clipped together behind my back.

I pulled just a little, to show I knew I was clipped, and although I might be able to grip the clips and get away, it would be a breach of my submission training, so I allowed it.

I also found out my ankle cuffs were chained about a half-meter apart. It's only a little shorter than my natural stride, and I was a bit unhappy they knew they didn't need to hold me down. I like being held by a strong man, but I prefer to submit to ladies.

I was also shaking from side to side and moving past trees. I didn't understand why they didn't just lead me by my lovely leash, but I contented myself with wiggling my butt and enjoying the tail anchor.

I realised I still had the snoutcuff on, but my tail was dismounted. Wherever they were taking me I wouldn't be allowed any covering, and I think I said I hadn't been upset about nudity even before I signed the sub contract.

It was only when the cart I was in rolled off the Lounge deck that I realised I was kneeling naked with my legs open, and I was on a nice fluffy pad. I was also in a rather comfy travel cage, my wide collar chained to the top to keep my head up.

A shudder of submissive pleasure shook me gently as I realised I was merely a package being delivered. I didn't know where or to whom, but I did remember I owed Masters Rosen and Williams because they'd captured the fox. I was quite willing to be their toy for the night, and it was still mid-afternoon on Saturday.

I had the rest of the day, evening, and overnight to submit to them and show my skills as a domestic servant, pet dog, and pleasure slave. I'm not actual property, I haven't signed my body over. And I prefer sex with women because the parts fit nicely.

But I've been a submissive long enough to know what men want when they command me. I can't even tell my family about the Hunt Club, or my enjoyment of submission. They think I'm sick in the mind and need help.

They might tolerate me saying women use me for sex, but not men. My step-mom in particular thinks men hugging and kissing other men is beyond just gay, it's sick. Frankly she's one of the reasons I come here so I can relax.

So if you don't wanna hear, just skip ahead. The rest know hugging and cuddling don't use sex parts, you can enjoy any gender, so prudes should frak off. Even kissing and tongue-wrestling aren't sexual, they're sensual, which is different.

I'd wondered why Elaine and Roger washed me instead of unchaining me and leading me to the Shower Room. Now I saw the path the cart was taking, and although my neck was chained so I couldn't turn and look around, I knew the green tree marks leading to a maintenance shed.

My mind was clearing from the lovely fake cum, and I was getting more interested in being delivered. If HuntMaster Alfonse had been angry with me for losing the hunt and denying the guests their fun, I'd've been chained up and whipped.

As it was, the cart stopped after a short roll and Mistress Roberta appeared at the front bars. I knew the cart was like a golf cart, electric motors meant the driver didn't need males' muscles, and I was glad to see her.

*

I may not have mentioned I was still a bit rosy from Thursday afternoon's test of my submission. I cleaned Mistress Roberta's cottage and served her dinner. She let me show my skills chained to her couch too. Go ahead think about it, just come on back, ok?

But she just reached in the cage and clipped a chain leash on my steel collar. She held it tight, so I knew to hold still as she unlocked the door and ordered me out. I knew to move slowly so I didn't startle her. I was a good obedient fox.

In point of fact, Mistress Roberta had brought a new fox costume, the one-piece kind like footed pajamas that cover my legs, tummy and arms. The seam runs up the front, and it's a rather long zip, kinda like a jacket. This style even has long foot extensions, so I look like a real fox there.

The suit has a cuffed opening in back, for the tail to attach. It was long, almost down to the ground, air-brushed russet like the suit but with darker highlites. It really looked like real fur, and so soft!

My eyes closed as she ordered me to stand and let her put the ears on me. They actually slip on over my real ears and the headband holds them up over my head. I was feeling very foxy that I was worth all this attention.

It was when she mounted the tail to my anchor I felt the stiff support pull on my innards. Oh gosh it felt good, and since I was completely naked in the fur I had no need to hide it. My human cock stiffened, and Mistress Roberta got a chuckle.

"Unsheathing already, foxeh?" she said. I felt embarrassed to be so obvious, and begged to kneel and submit. But I was denied, to keep the fox knees clean. I'd be allowed to kneel in the cage and in the cabin.

Another thing about the costume was it had long furry fox feet in slippers. They had rubber pads on them that even had dull plastic claws! I was feeling very beasty when she told me to bend down and seal the Velcro seams. They were covered over by the steel ankle cuffs.

When I heard another chuckle I looked down and saw the suit was 'anatomically correct'! It had its own plastic testicles in a furry scrotum, and now I saw the tummy fur was white on my neck, down my chest, under my neath and partway down my legs.

What really made me hold my breath was, the fake testicles were nice and big, and Mistress Roberta told me to slip my human cock into a russet fur sleeve sewn into the costume. It really looked like I had a canid sheath!

The steel wrist cuffs covered the seams on the forepaw mittens. I had four toes on each footpaw, no dewclaw at my ankles, and five on each handpaw. All with nice shiny black plastic claws! I loved the costume, and trembled. It obviously cost a lot.

I had no idea how I was going to operate the tail or the sheath since I have a human spine and my own cock isn't that big. But Mistress told me to fondle myself, or at least the costume, and I flushed when I felt the stiffness! The costume even had an honest-to-gosh canid baculum, a penis bone to hold me!

I was shaking so bad Mistress had to ask her fox Kevin if I was sick. I didn't dare try to speak, I just folded a bit in case I had to be ill. I was so overwhelmed by this expensive suit I barely heard her commands.

The sharp slap across my fake snout brought me back. "Kevin! Pay attention! I'm telling you how to work the tail servos and the head mask!" I begged mercy and fell to my knees. Luckily the ground had dry grass thick enough to keep the fake fur clean.

Mistress Roberta knew how a trained submissive responds to an angry Dominant. She let me cringe and whimper, and told me to stay on all fours while she worked the tail a bit, rubbing my prostate with the tail anchor and making me go so squishy I forgot to be afraid.

*

As I look over what I've written, it seems I've said my mind went squishy at several different times, and please don't be upset I'm redundant. I just tried to remember what happened at the time instead of summarising.

I discovered the shape of the fox costume as Mistress Roberta put it on me, so again I wrote how I felt at the time. Now she put a belton me, and I knew it had the batteries for the costume servos.

If I wore this expensive costume at a furry convention I'd put clothes over it to hide the belt. The power plugs go into little sewn holes in the suit, covered by fur, and snake up inside to the fake snout.

Now since I'm human my head's not shaped like a real vulpine, and since I had the leather fox snout on with the steel snoutcuff, Mistress left the costume head off. I've since learned it has actual moving ears and jaws, as well as snout movements like sniffing.

It was because of my college courses in electrical engineering that I got interested in the remote-control electric motors. The fur ears don't weigh much, and the lower jaw is counterweighted. The suit doesn't need powerful motors.

I'd be pretending to be someone's pet fox, and my 'owner' would have the model airplane remote control box. When I put in the contact lenses, the costume eyes can be moved as well as the ears and jaw.

My operator just has to stay close, maybe play like I need a leash, and work me. Oh, I forgot the tail! Now this takes a little more explanation. A real fox can swish his tail side-to-side, as well as up-and-down. Even around in circles!

But the fake tail would need something to push against, and since you know where it's placed, it would push against my human rump, hidden in the suit. The problem was back when I was in college they didn't have the trick carboplastic fibers that change polymer links in an electric field.

The effect is, they act like muscles. And just like organics, you can build a bunch of them together to increase the effect. I'd just need higher voltage, and someone could remote control the tail to swish just like a real one!

As I said, we didn't have that back then, so my tail was just held with styrofoam 'vertebrae' on wires. It'd bend OK, and even spring back if you were careful not to bend much. Oh, I could wiggle my rump and the suit would cover it, so I could swish the tail, sorta like amputees can work a prosthesis.

Giggle, a tail prosthesis! I wanna try one, so maybe I should get involved in the USA movie industry. They make horror movies with costumes, and I could adapt the workings of a werewolf suit, size them down, and be a fox!

*

Anyway, enough dreaming. I was pretty sure I was on the way to serve my captors, and I wasn't about to protest the rather humiliating point that the suit testicles and sheathed penis were bigger than my own. Maybe they were the expected size for a vulpine in human size.

If you were just skimming along over the details and wanting me to get on to being used for gay sex, you're gonna be disappointed. You may even have to wait for Fox Hunt chapter 7. I don't want any trouble with the prudes, but they shouldn't even be reading my stuff.

As I keep saying, I'm a submissive, not merely a sex toy. I insist I'm not gay, since I don't get hard seeing men's bare chests or anything else. If you're one of those men or women who think anything gays do has to be gay, you're a fool, and I'll prove it.

Tom Hanks is an actor. In /Philadelphia/ he played a lawyer who gets fired when he develops AIDS. I know gay men get AIDS, and my point is, just cause the lawyer got sick doesn't prove he's gay (he might be, but it's not proof). And it certainly doesn't mean Tom Hanks must be gay.

Heck, he played Forrest Gump, and it doesn't mean Tom's slow in the mind. Even if some other actor *is* gay, it's not a contagious disease! AIDS is, and I think it's still fatal. The esoteric drugs just slow it down, not cure it.

So don't think the fact I'll kneel and crawl to a man and kiss his feet means I'm gay. Why not rent me and find out? Try me, you'll like me.

OK, soapbox diversion over. But I've been rented by men who think I'm gay just because I kneel and crawl. I'll obey a Dominant and do things that gays do, but I'll say it again, it's a logical error to think that means I'm gay.

As I crawled back into the bondage cage, I was careful with the expensive fursuit Mistress Rpberta had told me to put on. I rather liked the fact she took so much time with it and me, stuffing me into it and zipping it.

And of course she fished around my rump to get the tail anchor to poke out so she could mount the tail. I liked being groped, and I've mounted women and been mounted, so I wanted her to cover me and stroke me to force my response.

But I'm at the Hunt Club for Dominant people's pleasure, and I've learned to take my own by giving it to others. I knelt and crawled backwards into the cage, and Mistress Roberta's body language showed she approved of my submission. She had a friendly smile on her face as she looped my leash through the top bars and closed the door.

I heard the click as the cold hard steel of the door latch met the striker plate. It was the kind of lock that latches when closed, but needs a key to lock. I begged her to lock me in.

I had no intention of even trying to reach out and trip the latch to open the door. I'm not being held here against my will, and I find it quite difficult to even pretend I need to be held by force.

But of course it would insult a man's Dominance to say I'm so tame I don't need the harsh restraint. I shook my snout and pushed against the door, pretending I was a fighting fox who refused to accept his cage. It was perfectly obvious I wasn't going near the latch, not as a fox or as a person.

*

And I quieted when Mistress jerked my leash. I hung my head in the supporting wide collar and submitted to her domination. Since the cage was in the back of the golf cart I was facing the Lounge as I rode toward the maintenance shed.

It was almost time for me to pay my debt to Masters Rosen and Williams, and I'd submitted to them before. But that was just serving dinner. You know, serve from the right, pick up from the left. Table settings, the different size knives, forks, spoons, plates, bowls, glasses for different courses.

White wine with fish and poultry, red with meat. Always keep water so doms/mmes can cleanse their palates between courses. Enjoy when they grope a serving wench. I do like a nice firm grope, shows I'm worth it.

Well, it took about ten minutes because the golf cart moves slowly. It's faster than a walk, maybe a leisurely jog, but even I can outrun them. As I knelt there with my legs wide to slip my knees between bars, I noticed the fursuit had pads built in at my knees and elbows.

Whoever designed it had the sub's comfort in mind, and as it was built for males to wear (well, OK, a small-breasted female could fit, the suit had its own testicles, sheath and penis) I wondered if the basic design had them as add-ons in the crotch, and a flat chest. Perhaps it could be modified for females.

After all, we all have bulges, just in different places. I did have a giddy moment of wondering how I'd feel in a female-shaped suit, and as I'm not that big in the guy-bulge area anyway, it wasn't that far-fetched.

If it was only the suit that was made to fit a woman... maybe it wouldn't feel bad at all... firm padding in front, curves in all the right places. I suppose my submissive mind was still a bit squishy from the hunt and Alice forcing my beast. And the chains, and being washed.

So I was quite surprised when the cart left the green-marked path and headed to an outdoor rec area. Of course I was too well trained to complain, or even ask where Mistress was taking me. She'd tell me, if she wanted me to know.

Mistress Roberta drove the cart in a circle and stopped. I was facing the back of course, but even as a human I could hear her open her cell phone and the quiet feedback beeps as she pressed buttons. I counted more than ten beeps, so she must have been texting.

My day-Mistress came around the cage into my line of sight. She checked that the leash still held me tight, even though it was just hitched and not tightly tied. The fact that I stayed in the cage when she opened it showed I was as tame as a draft horse. I felt like a hitched horse.

I've role-played a pony several times, and recognised the trail down to the barn where tack for submissives was kept. The trail to the animal barn started the same way but turned left a few hundred feet down the trail. She picked up the chain from the cart and clipped it on my collar.

Only then did she unhitch the leather and order her fox out of the cage. Mistress said with the suit on I wasn't allowed to kneel in the grass. Not for my comfort or any thought of consideration for my feelings of course, just to keep the fake fur clean. I obeyed although I felt naughty standing.

Because I'm taller than Mistress Roberta, and I'm so used to staying on my knees in submission. It's just role-playing, so there's no threat of punishment. I just remember I'm submissive and role-playing her beast, so I stood for a few seconds and let her look me over.

*