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A gratuitous 7300-word story trade in service of the talented Gentry, of gentry.sofurry.com/ fame.

Background: I asked him to give me a song as a writing prompt, and he happened to have Katy Perry's "Birthday" stuck in his head.

All lyrics referenced from Katy Perry's songs--including "Birthday," "Roar," "Firework," and "Hot N Cold"--are strictly her publisher's copyright and are in no way used for profit nor with her permission.

This is an indulgently pornographic piece; you have been warned.

Drinking game: Sip on the word "fairy," the word "cock," or the word "jackal."

Please do not combine the three.

"Ask not for whom my phallus rises, Ian Saxxton. It rises for thee."

Naked and alone was not so bad for the fairy-fox Ian Saxxton. Not in this paradise, where on the fuschia shore of an otherworldly beach splashed the translucent emerald waves of a vast, tranquil ocean. Naked and alone, with stars glimmering in his amethyst eyes, the fairy-fox Ian Saxxton padded along the wet shore, his grand canvas wings folded contently against his back. Here Ian beheld the quiet land of Nezrav Marltrod, a world he'd spent the last eleven days wandering. It had been two days since he had given up his thick equine companion, two days since the nine-day interval he'd spent with him wandering the desert hopping from oasis to oasis, punctuating their arrivals with fervent lovemaking that just now, the fairy-fox's extremities were recovering from.

Ian took a finger and traced a line from his forehead, down between his eyes, then out over his muzzlebridge and then dropped it, popping his bottom lip on the way down. The fairy-fox remembered when the equine's hardy shaft, drooling with precum, did the same. Ian ran his paws through his luxuriously soft fur. The strange beach air did wonders for his coat, and so it was with the greatest of relish he slid his paws over the firm contours of his body. They ran over his thin breast, his flat stomach, and the inside of his thighs until they cradled the bundle blessed upon all members--excuse the pun--of the class mammal, sex male.

Two round balls filled out a soft, furry sac that clung firmly against his underside, sitting proudly just beneath a modest sheath, tenderly scenting itself with delicate musk, carefully enshrining the sporadic protrusion that many within Ian's sexual identity--gender male, preference male--fondly desired and fondled.

He so keenly desired a penis on another side of him. Behind him, or before him: just not only this one, not alone. His own penis wasn't fulfilling... and it couldn't fill him full.

But just then, as he ran the pad of his thumb over his burgeoning erection, skimming the crowning head, something went off in Ian's mind. A streak of light sliced across the sky, like the blade of a knife, and the line seemed to linger like a papercut. Around it the stars drifted like drops of oil in water, shining brightly as they shifted into a new pattern and slowed to a halt. Something clicked in Ian's mind as he stood stock still in the sand, water lapping at his footpaws. The fairy-fox felt the gears of a giant clock clack into place, chiming in a new hour.

His eyes went wide, two grand amethyst pools that reflected the stars' light. A tingling in his loins shot a batch of precum up and it arced within the bottom of his vision before landing in the sand before him. All of a sudden the fairy-fox was rock-hard, shockingly erect with hardly a precursor of sensation or arousal. As he beheld his modest cock, standing straight before him with its knot fully formed like two clenched fists, the sky above him began to separate, threads between its cut of light separating before the lower half came falling down in a large, limp flap.

"Ampucci Verigo," Ian swore to himself as he took a few pensive steps backward, poignantly aware of how his cock bounced with each step, "Tell me that is not the Ever-Therefore..."

A thin bolt of light shaped like a massive sewing needle pierced the ground before him and sank into the ground until its eyelet was level with him. A wind blew from the portal and from it stepped two winged jackals in full fairy attire, their chiffon red tunics flapping before them, revealing that, as the flaps of their loincloths blew in the gusting storm, their undergarments had no crotch aside from the flaps. There were no understraps to clothe their loins. The jackals' cocks hung freely from their sheaths.

Precum escaped Ian as easily as did a gasp from him.

The first jackal, his fur a brassy yellow and hiding none of his stunning musculature, grabbed the needle of light and, as it shrunk to the size of a pencil, put it behind his ear. It rested with a moderate glow. The sky above them seemed to drift back into place, and the wind died out.

"Ampucci Verigo saw you from his realm two days ago, fairy-fox Ian Saxxton," he said, "This is the land of Kath'Udson, from the nation of SanBarba."

Ian could not take his eyes from the jackals' midsections, where above their carved stomachs heaved mighty breasts, their nipples taut and the curves of their pects rippling with every breath. Below, on the jackal that spoke, wrapped his loincloth around a notable protrusion of maleness. On the other jackal, whose fur was a copper orange, his loincloth lay entirely to the side of a prominently erect onyx cock. The knot alone seemed carved from marble, it was so firm.

"Ian Saxxton?" droned the first jackal. His loincloth seemed to rise by the second, but remained draped about the mast that lifted it. "Ian Saxxton, if you will refrain from staring at my phallus for two seconds."

Ian's head snapped upwards. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Ask not for whom my phallus rises. It rises for thee. You are to be honored tonight, Ian Saxxton."

"H-honored?" Ian said with a start, hopping backwards, sending an arc of pre whipping over the winged jackal's shoulder. The brass jackal snapped it up in his mouth and licked his lips.

"Delicious," he said. "Yes, Princess Saxxton," he continued with official aplomb, his paws threaded behind his back. "Today is your birthday, according to our stars. They have aligned to the stars in your eyes, and as I and my compatriot are both Fairy Queens of SanBarba, your inauguration should commence forthwith."

The brass winged jackal concluded this with a clap of his heels, bouncing his prominent erection. "I am Khey 'Ti Perignon and this is my compatriot Khan Fett, also named 'Ti," he gestured to the copper jackal, who had already stripped himself of any raiment. He stood at attention and his cock stood before him, the onyx black shaft glistening in the shimmering night sky above a set of weighty copper balls. Ian's mouth ran wet as he stared at the fixture, his paw trembling as he reached out to the winged male standing far behind Khey 'Ti.

The brass jackal grabbed the fairy-fox's arm and pulled him into a kiss, and as Ian gasped he slipped his long, flat tongue inside the fox's mouth, skimming it upon the fox's own as his other paw reached back and grabbed the shorter male's rump. Ian melted into the kiss and assuredly wetted the jackal's stomach with his anticipation before he was pushed back and found that the other jackal had seized his other arm.

The two set him down on his knees, with the copper jackal Khan standing before him as the golden jackal Khey removed the rest of his clothes. Though the chiffon raiment covered very little, to see the severe curves of the muscular brass jackal gave Ian another rise, and it was all Ian could do to clutch the fur on his thighs to avoid the mad pulse of the erection between them. Khey held on to his loincloth, now free from his body.

"I know, Ian Saxxton, that you're feeling nothing's right," Khey began, pacing around him. Khan stood before Ian with his arms folded, cock at muzzle level but just out of reach. "And that is why we stopped by. The clock is ticking, running out of time--as I'm sure you've felt--so we should party all night ... to ensure you are properly queened."

"And what do you mean--"Ian tried to interject, his paws trembling as his forearms felt his arousal's heat pulse between them.

"So cover your eyes!" the jackal admonished, throwing the musky flap of his loincloth over Ian's head and tying it around back, blindfolding him. "I have a surprise."

"We both do," Khan growled in a low voice. It was the first the copper jackal had spoken, and the deep baritone surprised the fairy-fox. Khan's voice was one Ian expected out of wolves or smaller bears.

Ian could hear that both sets of feet were before him, and his whiskers twitched as twin rods of heat neared his face. Ian's muzzle instinctively opened, and a thick jackal cock quickly filled it. The other member hovered by his head, and the fairy-fox's paw instinctively rose to grasp it. His other paw ventured between the first male's furry thighs and held onto the set of brass--or copper--balls between them.

"I hope you got a healthy appetite," growled the baritone voice above him. So it was Khan's cock in his mouth, and Khey's that was thrusting into his paw. Precum dribbled down Ian's forearm as he stroked.

Precum also squirted into Ian's mouth, and he greedily slurped it down as the thick cudgel of flesh drove over his tongue, forward and back. Ian's one paw went fast to work on a set of heavy balls, rolling them between his fingers, and the other gripped another mass of flesh, stroking the shaft that bucked into his paw.

Ian soon switched cocks, gripping the saliva-coated shaft of the second jackal while orally servicing the first, his free paw at work squeezing his own sac, throbbing in unison with the males before him, moaning around the mass of meat as they growled down at him.

The pace began to quicken, and before long Ian was rapidly switching between the two, thrusting his wet maw up and down along one as he furiously stroked the other. He would then switch, and soon there was always one of his paws on each shaft, squeezing the knots and stroking the lengths as his mouth switched back and forth. The jackals were caught in his feverish rhythm and soon put their arms over each other, angling their cocks close so the honored fairy vulpine could stuff both of them in his mouth.

Ian's cheek's bulged as he wrapped his muzzle around their dicks, paws rapidly working over the each, his own member spilling precum into the wet sand below. The winged jackals roared one after the other, their heads butted firmly together.

Khan--or was it Khey--erupted first, spraying his rich, sticky seed into Ian's mouth, down his greedy throat and out the side of his muzzle. The fluid was incredibly sweet. Not even though halfway the jackal's onslaught, the other one burst, flooding Ian's mouth with even more jackal cum. The onslaught of male nectar poured out the sides of the small vulpine's mouth and over his chin, their cocks hilted as deep as they could within the fox's muzzle. The substance spackled Ian's thighs and, upon touching his own member, as if by magic or mere chain reaction, the fairy-fox's own modest prick sprayed up, striping the bottom of his chin before dappling his luxuriously soft chest and joining the seminal glaze already dribbling off his thighs.

Ian took one final gulp before the jackals pulled their cocks from his face, dragging two final ropes down the fairy-fox's form as he plopped down in the fuschia sand. Feeling their emissions drip from the fur on his muzzle, Ian dragged each arm against each side of his jaw, then shook out what he could and looked up at the two nude forms, still rock hard and wearing the most graven of expressions. Their musk, deliriously saccharine, wafted about him in a great cloud, inspiring his own naked prick to remain standing painfully at attention. His heart beat feverishly in his cum-slimed throat, and the brilliant orange male swallowed again to clear the lining.

"I know you like it sweet," intoned Khan in his deep baritone.

"So you can have your cake," Khey responded, leaning down to wipe Ian's cheek with his thumb. He then dragged the goo across Ian's forehead and stood back.

The copper jackal then plucked the needle of light from behind Khey's ear and stabbed it into the ground just before Ian, where it grew once more and the needle's eyelet hovered before the fairy-fox's face. The brass jackal nodded approvingly of his fellow fairy queen, and then extended a paw out to the large fixture standing before the semen-besmirched fox. He began another incantation, droning out another passage from the great book Prism, one of Kath'Udson's many rich texts.

Khey 'Ti Perignon called, and Khan Fett 'Ti responded, as thus:

"So make a wish."

For the enlightenment of a fairy soul, to become a true queen

_"_I'll make it your birthday every day."

The enlightenment received makes every day a rebirth

"I'll be your gift."

A gift of mystic knowledge

"Give you something good to celebrate."

Blessed be our fairy powers, arcane acuity--both hot and cold, both yes and no--deserving adulation.

The jackals bowed so low that their erections aligned with their thighs, moist with sweat. The fairy queens chanted in unison,

"We are fireworks, amen."

The jackals stood once more, and their wings unfolded, giving themselves a larger presence. The fairy-fox Ian Saxxton was mightily perplexed by their esoteric admonitions, their obtuse chanting, though it had only distracted him briefly from the dull ache of rich sexual arousal pulsing between his legs, and also beneath his tail. His mouth became dry, and when he went to lick his lips, the flavor of their rich frosting rang clear.

The fairy-fox princess Ian Saxxton looked at the needle of light before him and followed their command: he made a wish, and blew through the eyelet. A bubble of many colors filled out the other side of the eyelet, and then grew bigger on its own, gradually swelling to the height of the winged jackals before gently detaching from the three-foot needle, floating above them.

Ian watched with great wonder as the enormous bubble floated above him and began to descend. A bolt of fear shot through him and he looked pleadingly at the winged jackals of copper and brass, grand in their stature and firm in physique. Their cocks had not withered and stood proudly free from their sheaths, bobbing when the males moved.

Khey shook his head and plucked the needle from the ground, spinning it once in his paw like a bo staff before setting it, eyelet down, in the sand.

"Pop your Khan Fett 'Ti," he recited, looking directly at the other fairy's cock.

"Pop your Perignon," the other incanted, looking at Khey's member.

"So hot and heavy," Khey said, spinning the needle into his paws and marching towards the bubble.

The copper jackal Khan put his paws together and bowed again, pressing his erection to his thighs.

"'Til Dawn."

With a stab of the needle the bubble above Ian burst, and four more winged jackals, of metallic colors steel, tungsten, aluminum, and bronze appeared around him. They were clad in loincloths which, like Khan and Khey's loincloths, were mere flaps hanging over their groin. The raiments were all the same verdigris green. Ian had to secretly admire their color coordination and poise before realizing once more that he had four new members--excuse the pun--to admire his semen streaked shame.

The tungsten and bronze jackal, whose groins were mere inches from Ian's face and already bulging the verdigris fabric, grabbed Ian from under his arms and pulled him upright. The fairy-fox's head, forced downward by sudden ascension, watched as a streak of precum flecked from the head of his cock and fell to the sandy shore below. The emerald waves crashed in his ears.

Held upright by these strong, new individuals, Ian could naught but stand on his two footpaws and ward off the instinct to fight. In his periphery he saw the two loincloths rise, and could only imagine the two behind him were doing the same, and before him Ian saw Khey walk up, his resplendent brass pelt shimmering.

Khey placed his own onyx cock upon Ian's and held them both in one paw, frotting against Ian's tumescent flesh as he stroked it.

"You're never gonna be unsatisfied," he recited. "If you want to dance--"

"Sir," Khan interrupted, rushing up to place a paw on the brass jackal's shoulder, "Dawn approaches in naught but a few hours. Is it not germane, in time's interest, to bring out the big balloons?"

Ian could see, for the first time, a ripple of irritation bubble deep within the brass jackal's body. It rippled across his pelt like waves of grain.

"Of course," he said, then turning to Ian. "Let me get you in your birthday suit. It's time to bring out the big balloons."

With no further ado, Khey refastened his grip about their cocks and pulled the young fairy-fox into a deep kiss, interlocking his muzzle with the surprised male's muzzle and stroking them into a sexual fervor. Khey grunted and Ian gasped, the tendrils of sexual reverie soon refastening themselves and burrowing deep within Ian's brain, gut, and Ian's below, where his unused hindquarters hiked, tail rising mostly of its own accord, and his member slathering pre against the jackal's groin, slickening their fleshy bridge as Khey's paw worked quickly.

His tongue battled in slick warfare against the brass jackal's tongue, two fleshy fixtures in feverish play above, as was it below with their slathered phalluses. Khey, worked into a hungry furor all his own, gripped the back of Ian's skull tightly and massaged its base, and whatever knots had manifested in the fox's spine effortlessly melted away. The fairy-fox could feel miscellaneous pricks about him, pricks in his fur, in his scalp, in his body, in his legs, as he savagely and sloppily made out with the jackal. Ian could sense the arousal of the four males encircling them. Growls of approval volleyed around them.

His hips bucked and he ground the bottom of his foxcock against the jackal's larger shaft, feeling the heat radiating from the unyielding flesh. His sensitive underbelly slid across its smooth, firm contours, and his tapered head rubbed against the jackal's swollen knot, bumping against the jackal's furry hips when it fit between the two bulbous mounds...

With a gasp that only brought the jackal's tongue deeper into his maw, Ian grasped Khey's shoulders and erupted, spraying his delicate load against the brass jackal's waist and gooping it onto Khey's paw as Khey gripped the head. He trembled as he poured seed, shivering as the jackal smeared it against both their members, and the film that covered their groins became stickier, precum intermingling with its successor cum.

Khey came against Ian's sac, throwing runny ropes against his balls and his thighs, moaning into Ian's mouth as he further besmirched the fox's legs, adding his own cum to the sticky bridge between them as his paw milked them both of every drop.

The brass jackal ended the long, wet kiss with a low growl. Strands of saliva connected their muzzles, but this he ended with a chop of his paw. Ian stumbled back, caught in a massive daze. His legs trembled as his groin dripped a mixture of the jackal's and his reproductive leavings, but when said droplets fell on his legs the fairy-fox knew something was amiss.

They hit fabric, not fur.

He looked down.

From neck to toe, he was covered in a gossamer, fairysilk silver leotard. The fabric clung to his form, showing off his lithe, slender features, and adorned on the chest was a star pattern taken right out of the SanBarba sky--the same pattern that had aligned with the stars that would sometimes shimmer in Ian's amethyst eyes.

"Is this ... my birthday suit?" he stammered. The fairy queens had inverted the euphemism entirely, and had put him in a fairysilk "birthday" suit that covered every inch below his head with one critical omission. Ian stared down at said omission with a twitch of his lacquered cock.

The suit had no groin. Below the navel he was completely exposed, his male parts on display for all to see with lascivious, hungering eyes, and when he traced his paws back, his tail aflutter with a number of stupefied, embarrassed, and pleasured emotions, his taut, round rump was also completely exposed.

In a desperate ploy for modesty, the fairy-fox covered his groin with one hand and pulled his tail down with the other, hunching down so that his thighs may also occlude his targeted nudity. He spun around, looking at the jackals in a sort of panic, and yet as his mind desperately clawed for understanding, he could not shake the drunken arousal that even now permeated his vulpine being. Ian's nipples protruded from the fabric in lewd fashion, forming two definite pinpricks on his breast. His tailhole ached, still unused, begging to be ravished. His tail couldn't seem to stay down--this was in testament to deep animal desires that, theoretically sated twice by two generous emissions, were yet to be actually sated.

As surely as the emerald waves lapped against the fuschia shore of Nezrav Marltrod, in the land of SanBarba, Ian was still erect.

As were the six members--excuse the pun--around him. Even Khey, who had come twice, and Khan, who had come once, and was no doubt inspired by the fox and the brass jackal's impassioned frotting.

Ian's head said it was too much, and in a last gambit of reason Ian flexed to unfurl his wings and leave.

The fairy-fox's canvas wings were trapped within the suit. They also glimpsed upon an added weight that was centered and attached in the back of his suit.

It was a mithril loop.

The tungsten jackal, who beyond Ian's field of vision had taken up the needle of light, was blowing bubbles and affixing them to ethereal strings. He was bringing out the big balloons. Two of his fellow queens, jackals steel and aluminum, had planted themselves on either side of the tungsten jackal and were holding his shoulders down.

The balloons he'd made were practically lifting him off the ground.

All six jackals, bronze, aluminum, tungsten, steel, brass, and copper smiled at Ian, and the fairy-fox let out a yelp of fear. This turned into a betrayed moan as he felt once more, a squirt of pre leap from his groin. He watched it hit the winged steel jackal on the shin.

"You're never going to be unsatisfied," Khan recited as he grabbed the needle of light. With a swish and flick of the large needle, Ian's arms were stitched to his sides, his paws useless against his hips.

"Hot and heavy," said the steel jackal, out-of-verse from the readings.

"Until the break of dawn," said bronze with a giggle.

"So," said tungsten, counting the balloons as he spoke. The brass jackal Khey and the bronze jackal seized Ian from both sides. "It's time to bring out the big, big, big, big, big, big, big balloons."

With a rough shove, Ian was brought forward and turned with his back to the tungsten jackal, who assiduously affixed the ethereal balloons to the mithril loop on the back of the fairy-fox's suit. The jackals then let him go, and Ian tried to run.

It took one feckless swipe of his footpaws before their buoyancy caught him, and the fairy-fox was lifted into the air where he quickly leveled out, his face to the ground and his body hovering roughly three feet above it. As Khan, the copper jackal stepped around him, Ian realized he was floating at cock level around six egregiously aroused males, only two of whom had indulged in any form of sexual release.

Ian was floating, arms bound at his sides, in a fairysilk silver suit that left his head and his nethers completely exposed, at cock level around six egregiously aroused males. His own cock dripped with Khey's and his own previous deeds, and the six jackals formed a circle around him.

"I... you don't intend..." Ian stammered, his legs dangling. Tungsten realized his mistake and hurriedly made two more balloons, affixing one to each of Ian's ankles. The fairy-fox kicked and writhed as the jackal worked the ethereal strings, but his paws were fast--fast as a fairy queen's--and soon the fairy-fox Ian Saxxton's legs were floating as well.

Ian was effectively naked, floating face-down at crotch level, exposed for the six to see, sporting a tenacious hard-on and the scent of their previous conquests, which were sharp and sweet on his nose.

"This is outrageous!" he pled, eyes darting from groin to groin as he slowly rotated in midair. "This isn't all that queens do, is it?"

Khey chuckled and batted Ian's ankle, sending him spinning to face him. The metallic winged jackals passed Ian's vision in a quick blur, and just as Ian began to feel dizzy, spinning like a disco ball, Khey leaned his hips forward and stopped Ian's spinning with his shaft colliding against the fox's muzzle.

"Perish the thought, sweet princess," Khey said in a tone of mockery, breaking his otherwise official droning. Ian tried to lift his head, but his gaze only went as far as the brass jackal's chest. "We fairies also give hope to the impoverished, save kingdoms from dragons, and curse the scoundrels that cross us. But since today is your birthday..." he trailed off, letting the unsaid say it all.

Khey set his hands upon the fox's cheeks and placed his cock upon his muzzlebridge, wiping its residue on the rare clean patch of fur. His tone returned to that of a religious official.

"All night they'll be playing your song."

With that, Khey spun him one to the right, where the bronze jackal caught the smaller male's shoulders and put his unused cock against the fox's lips. Ian whined and shook his head, but with a tap of the jackal's member against his nose Ian relented and again affixed his maw around a fairy jackal's luxuriously warm erection. The bronze jackal, practiced in his movements, rhythmically thrust into Ian's velvety mouth, still slimed with semen, and groaned as Ian's practiced tongue lavished over his shaft.

Ian felt a pressure between his legs, and then there was a cold nose against the underside of his tail. Whose muzzle it was, he could not tell--he forgot which jackal had stood opposite of the bronze jackal--but whoever it was put his wide, wet tongue against the aching kiss of Ian's forgotten tailhole and started to lick and slurp at his rear.

The moan that escaped Ian's nose, as he bore down on the bronze jackal's cock, was one of exasperated release, of a pleasure long buried and hidden. He remembered the nameless horse who had last ravished his posterior and this brought beautiful sexual memories of having that horse's muzzle deep between his cheeks, and it drove him to suck harder at the bronze jackal's groin, loving the new yet familiar taste of preseminal emissions as the fey male thrust hungrily into his maw, every jab sliding to the back and sometimes breaching into his throat. Ian instinctively wrapped his legs about the rear male's head.

Floating in air with his head turned up, gravity hardly an issue for him, Ian provided the bronze jackal with a straight shot down his esophagus. Behind him, the other jackal dragged his wet tongue up and down his tailhole, pushing the slick muscle against Ian's slit, wetting the area. Each lap of his luscious tongue, along with the cock driving into his throat, brought the fairy-fox Ian Saxxton inches and bounds closer to his next orgasm.

The jackal's knot bounced against the fox's lips and suddenly the bronze male let out a low growl, pulling his phallus free of the fox's maw so that he may finish on Ian's face, throwing strings and globs of cum on the fairy-fox's furred cheeks and some into Ian's mahogany headfur. The bronze jackal shook the remaining strands on Ian's muzzle bridge and then stepped out.

The aluminum-colored jackal swiftly replaced him and locked his cock within Ian's mouth, leaning back with both paws on his naked rump as the jackal behind Ian, still hungrily rimming the poor fairy, pushed the fox forward. Ian's nose crashed into the aluminum jackal's groin and his lips had no choice but to wrap around the swollen knot and temporarily tying it. The tapered head of the jackal's cock lingered at the start of Ian's throat, and Ian took great care to breathe around it.

Floating in midair and unable to move his arms, Ian was trapped between the two males. His legs, locked at the ankles, pulled the rear jackal against his rump but were quickly rebuked. The rear jackal suddenly stood free and pulled himself against Ian's hips. The fox whined as his nose again pushed against the aluminum jackal's hips, saliva dripping from his mouth as his tongue instinctively slithered around the luscious curves of the front jackal's knot. He could already feel pre trickling down his throat.

The jackal in back brought heat between Ian's thighs and leveled it between the fox's cheeks. The fairy-fox writhed like a snake, panting in anticipation, and was rewarded with a firm, pointed pressure against his tongue-fucked tailhole. Ian's cock jolted and his tail thumped against the jackal's chest: here it came.

The rear jackal pushed against Ian's rump and pulled on his hips. The fox slid a couple inches away from the aluminum jackal before him, enjoying the brief respite before the tapered canine head pierced his behind. The smaller bound male let out a gasp and gagged once more on the aluminum male's cock, lips popping around the shaft as his ears tweaked towards a low growl issued from above.

The jackal behind him fed the fox's ass inch by inch, snickering as their little princess bitch whined and protested around a mouthful of male jackal pride. Aluminum smiled at his fellow queen--it was the steel-colored jackal behind Ian--and the two set into a rhythm, rocking in unison like a lumberjack's saw, back and forth. Aluminum stroked Ian's cum-streaked face as steel pulled the fox's tail high and away, watching with great lust as his cock slid in and out of the fox's succulent bubble butt, the ring expanding and contracting as steel and aluminum spitroast him.

Ian could do nothing but relax his maw and his bowels--strung up, floating in midair with no form of propulsion, he was a slave to their whims and a slave to his own body: his own modest prick throbbed beneath, bobbing with every back and forth of the jackals, dribbling onto the fuschia beach below. Ian knew he was very close to yet another orgasm.

Suddenly, the jackal before him grabbed his mahogany locks and hilted in his mouth. The jackal behind him seized his fairysilk hips and hilted in his rear, his knot pressed firmly against the fox's hole, and with low harmonizing growls they simultaneously released into fairy-fox Ian Saxxton, coating his insides, his entrances front and rear, with more thick jackal goo.

Ian swore that aluminum tasted like strawberries, but he soon lost the thought to his own orgasm, choking on the viscous flouid as he striped the ground with his own sugary glaze, he swallowing as quickly as he could, and starting to feel full. The warmth inside his bowels was exhilarating. When he was done, aluminum pulled out with a shake of his hips, whipping a final strand sideways. Steel was still inside him, so Ian swallowed once and then coughed with his mouth temporarily free, tasting the sweet fluid on his tongue as the steel-colored male rotated himself and Ian both, pointing the fox in the direction of Khan, the copper winged jackal.

With a forward thrust of his hips, the steel fairy send Ian flying off his cock like a model rocket, turning his waist at the last moment to put some English on his sexual billiard ball. The fairy-fox, suspended and bound by ethereal balloons, spun in midair as he flew. Ian leaked from his back end and spun around in time to see the stream fall to the sand. Ian spun one hundred and eighty degrees and was quickly caught by Khan, only a few inches from being instantly impaled.

"Is it dawn yet?" Ian whined as the tungsten jackal stepped before him. Ian's body ached all over, especially his jaw; but, down below, where his fairysilk suit split open, the fairy-fox's groin and undertail still beat with lust, desire yet to be sated. This was impossible back in his own world--Ian could go two, maybe three times if the session was particularly excellent. But here, in the mystical land of Nezrav Marltrod, the region SanBarba, amidst these hungry and colorful jackal queens, the fairy-fox Ian Saxxton knew that deep down, he could party all night...

"So hot and heavy..." said tungsten.

"'til dawn," growled Khan.

"Spinning like a disco ball," giggled Khey, who was kneeling off to the side and bent over for the bronze jackal, whose head was buried under Khey's tail and lavishing his ass with long, lusty licks.

Barrelling towards an unseen end, the fairy-fox princess who was almost a fairy-fox queen opened his mouth for cock number five, cringing as he felt the previous males' exploits drip from his jaw, his cock, and his anus. Tungsten promptly plunged his penis into Ian's dripping mouth and fucked his face at a reasonable rate, pumping in and out over Ian's tongue with nary a moan to spare as behind them both, Khan slicked his dick on the steel jackal's juices and then pushed against the fox's vexed and flexing ring.

The copper jackal Khan Fett, also named 'Ti, slipped into Ian's rectum with relative ease and with great relish. Driven to drunken arousal by this magical land--and the gorgeous sight of six other exposed, engorged males--Khan immediately launched into an impassioned rhythm within Ian's ass, driving his shaft in and out at a rate similar, but not identical to, the tungsten jackal who cupped the fox's muzzle in one paw as the other held onto Ian's shoulder, keeping the bitch fast in place.

Ian could tell, as a shadow passed over tungsten's form, that his suitors were now leaning into each other. Above his body was the sloppy wet sound of kissing--this new spitroast had transmuted into an Eiffel Tower. Soundly the cross-bar of this French monument and taking a sound phallic pounding on both fronts, the fox grunted with renewed lust and sprayed the ground with pre.

Sooner than expected, Ian felt the rear jackal's paws clap hard onto his hips, and above he heard Khan's muffled baritone empty into the tungsten jackal's mouth. Letting out a squeal of sharp discomfort, almost bordering on pain, the vulpine male felt Khan's knot press hard against his ring, stretching it until suddenly, Ian's tailhole yielded a centimeter too far and slipped tightly around Khan's knot, tying them in place as the copper jackal's orgasm rolled into his bowels, spackling a second coat of thick jackal cum upon his inner walls and filling his aft chambers.

Ian opened his throat wide to better accept tungsten's thrusts, and he was nearly there--as was tungsten--when a firm command halted the three. The tungsten jackal, soon to be known as Michel, stepped away to leave Ian's muzzle with eight inches of emptiness.

"I am ready to bond with the fairy princess," Khey called out with one paw stashed behind him, massaging under his tail. "We have made him our queen, one and all--you'll get yours yet, Michel--and in reciprocation our fairy-princess Ian Saxxton shall make me his queen, completing the ritual. Should the rest of you have another one in you, as I'm sure you all do," he giggled, gesturing to the other jackals, "I implore you to frost the cake for his birthday."

Michel rapped his cock on Ian's nose and then held it out of the way as the fairy-fox lunged for it with his head.

"You'll have your bukakke and eat it, too," the tungsten jackal laughed.

"That's terrible," Ian grumbled, spitting out another wad of sugar-sweet semen.

With agility, poise, and grace, the brass jackal Khey 'Ti Perignon slipped under Ian Saxxton and bent with his head against the sand. Still tightly tied to the fairy-fox Ian Saxxton, Khan piloted the vulpine male, still in bondage and suspended by ethereal balloons, into position until Ian's modest prick aligned with the brass jackal's anxious hole. Ian felt the warm, velvety kiss of the jackal's tailhole and groaned anew.

"By the blessings of the Ever-Therefore," Ian swore, holding his breath as he sensed another tidal wave of lust flowing in, knowing he'd be under in a second, "May I--ungh; oh ghck--"

Khan, holding the captive male firmly by his fairysilk hips, and murring as he admired the naked rump wrapped around his knot, pushed his tied vixen forward and down. He was rewarded by two groans in unison: one directly below him, and one directly below him.

The stars in Ian's eyes blew into supernovas as, tied to the jackal behind him, he penetrated the jackal beneath, indulging for himself in the wet, sensual wonder of a velvet rectum wrapped around his phallus.

In his most charitable estimation, Ian was the succulent meat of an indulgent sexual sandwich, and in his worst, he was a prosthetic cock sheath for the copper jackal tied within him.

Michel soon plugged Ian's final, whining hole. There was hardly a part of Ian Saxxton that wasn't alight with lust and stimulation: as Khan fucked him, Ian fucked Khey, and Michel, who had yet to cum this night, fucked Ian's sticky muzzle with a gratuitous admission, pre-emission to his glee. Around him, the moans of the other three jackals, all in vigorous throes of masturbation of themselves and of each other, erections exchanging paws like currency, tweaked the vulpine's ears. There was nothing but the sound of sex to drown out the grunts, growls, and pleas of six horny jackals and himself, who was rapidly approaching his fourth orgasm now that he was balls-deep in the jackal queen who'd first greeted him and had begun the ritual.

Khey below him was calling his name at a rapid rate--nearly every thrust of Ian's hips drew a needy plea from the brass-colored male. Ian could feel his own sac tap against the damp taint of the other male, making the bottom male spread his legs wider and claw at the sand.

"Ian," he begged, "make me your queen."

Inspired by Khey's submissive mews, Michel above wove his fingers in Ian's mahogany tresses and humped the fox's sticky muzzle harder and more insistently. And Ian himself, tied to one male with his lips wrapped fast around another as his own cock pistoned in and out of the enraptured bitch below him, had little choice but to let the wave of tidal lust wash over him. Suddenly, his amethyst eyes went wide and his body seized in place, squeezing tightly down on Khan's cock and drooling around Michel's as it pumped its own load of fox seed deep into the brass jackal's bowels.

Khey down below howled in pleasure and sprayed his own load into the sand, panting and extolling his own queening at the hips of the new fairy-fox queen Ian-Saxxton; lauded be his name!

"Oh, breed me like a bitch, Ian Saxxton; Long Live the queen! Oh by the goddess Kath'Udson...it's all over my paw; Long Live the Queen!"

"Long Live the Queen," growled Michel, hilting his hips flat against Ian's nose as he sprayed down the vulpine's throat.

And then, in three other voices, came the same wish, and in mutual lust and love for their new queen they poured their loads upon his back, his rump, and in his hair, cheering and kissing each other deeply as the white fluid ran off the new fairy queen, like frosting off the side of a cake. One by one, the three jackals mated to Ian pulled themselves free of his body, letting even more of the viscous fluid run out of Ian's body and off of him.

Finally, the tungsten jackal Michel along with Khey, who now had a stumbling limp, took up the strings of Ian's balloons and guided him backwards to a tree on the fuschia beach. The tree overlooked the emerald waves.

The jackals cut the balloons' strings and flipped the fairy-fox queen upright. They shoved him backwards, pinning his semen-besmirched body roughly against it. Their voluminous emissions splattered off Ian's fairysilk birthday suit from the sudden jolt. The vulpine saw the sun rise over the ocean.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he protested. The jackals quickly released their hold on him, and Ian tried to get away. When his fabric held fast to the tree, Ian realized he was glued there. "That's dawn coming over the ocean! The party's over!"

His arms were still pinned to his sides, and with a terrible, ominous rapidity, Ian could feel his body become heavier. The cum that coated him was like foam, and was rapidly expanding over his svelte form.

"Who are you?" the fairy-fox gasped as the foam on his face grew, covering his eyes. "My own semen doesn't mmrphm--"

The fairy-fox queen Ian Saxxton, by dawn's early light, soon found himself sealed in a cocoon of transmuted fairy cum--a cumcoon--and when entirely ensheathed he fell into a long hibernation. The six fairy jackals--Khey, Khan, Michel, as well as the aluminum, steel, and bronze jackals--put their paws together and bowed deeply, pressing their erections to their thighs before leaving him that day, never to return.

In the foreign nation of SanBarba in the land of Nezrav Marltrod under the goddess Kath'Udson, the cocoon stayed affixed to that tree on the beach for two years, impenetrable to light and impervious to SanBarba's many tropical weather patterns.

But, on the second day of the second year, at precisely the second hour, the cumcoon cracked and a figure broke loose in a viscous wash of pink bismuth subsalicylate.

The fairy-fox queen Ian Saxxton fell from his cumcoon to the beach on his hands and knees, gasping for his first breath in two years. In the twinkling moonlight, he unfurled his new wings. His first two wings were massive, shading a wide swathe of sand on either side of him, and as the pink fluid bled to the fuschia sand below they caught the moonlight at a million angles, sending rainbows of light sparking in all directions. As more of the strange antacid flowed off of him, the night around the fairy-fox queen Ian Saxxton turned into day.

A second set of wings then unfolded from Ian's back. They were invisible to the naked eye. And when they fluttered, they cut lines into the night sky that lingered like papercuts. Around these cuts, the stars shifted like drops of oil in water, shining brightly as they shifted into new patterns.

Ian Saxxton, with the eye of the tiger--a fighter--had danced through the fire.

He was a champion, and the land of Nezrav Marltrod...

Was gonna hear him roar.