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Saturday, 20th March 830 / Krelhom, Kingdom of Ferlow

It is about a week since I went through with the decision of keeping my own diary. It is helping, giving my days some meaning and is often the only place where I'm content expressing my emotions, desires and actions. As I intend to continue describing my experiences and struggles, it might be a good idea to start organizing my entries. Once I turn to these pages for understanding and comfort, or out of simple boredom, I'm going to thank myself.

I was back in my room, playing with a pencil in my hand and glossing over the diary pages. Mana was most likely still snoring in his room; the act of sneaking from his hug and leaving him asleep had been quite dishonest. Only he knows how many meets he missed because of that, but truth be told, I wasn't in the mood to talk with him. My temporary home wasn't showing any signs of the quarrel I had with Rona that morning. Sitting on the bed, the pleasant silk blanket glistened as new, completely smooth bar the spot where my tailed butt sunk in and the blanket wrinkled.

The hint of worry I felt earlier dissipated as I re-inspected my weapons and armour; their being my tools of trade for the evening, I had to make absolutely sure everything was in working condition. My blouse was stained with a dry streak of indecent liquids; since I was about to swing my short sword instead of swaying my hips, I ignored the stain and fastened parts of my garb tight to my furred body. Sliding into my thigh highs - which, in truth, spoke far more to my promiscuity than my skill as a warrior - I walked in front of a mirror and couldn't help but smile.

I attempted few dramatic battle poses, grinning like a gleeful child and I turned around on one foot. Wanting to see myself in that one certain pose I bent over, using my tail as a counter balance and lifting it higher. Looking back over my own shoulder, a wave of arousal rushed down my spine. I savoured the image, knowing my behind was indeed very sexy and stunning when I bent over and presented myself. I was only missing one little thing, that being an excited audience.

Stroking my neck, I realized I was still collared. I would most likely get over-abundance of unwanted attention if I just walked outside like that; the thought stirred my loins. I found another silky white scarf upon closer inspection of the wardrobe's interior, entangled together with a dozen more. I simply had to wonder, how many white scarves did this brothel need? Tying it atop the collar, thus hiding it, it gave me that freedom of choice I sought.

Fully clothed I was ready to embark; I had my concerns, but faith in my own skill kept me calm. Before exiting through the main door of the brothel, I decided to keep my word and indulge in conversation with the cat receptionist. Contrary to what I expected, she a had free moment and was twisting her hair strands around her index finger. She smiled as I approached, her expression strangely frank.

I spoke up, "Hello there. Dropping for that chat I promised." Not knowing what message I wanted to convey with my posture, I simply rested my clawed hands on the counter. She inspected me with hers trained gaze, eyes widening as she saw my bow and arrows.

"Glad you got around to stopping by. You're quite the hot topic today, I hear you had some fun with Rona?" She put so much emphasize on the word fun I shivered. Her voice was smooth, low in pitch but still feminine, hinting at her older age and vast experience. After a small pause, waiting for my response, she continued speaking, "Just between us, that whore had it coming, it's a wonder no one clawed her eyes out by now."

I smirked under my nose. "And I was under the impression I'm the bad one here. Know why she acts the way she does?"

Her cat face was charming; a combination of sharp contours and full cheeks gave it an illusion of wideness. She responded, furrowing her brow, "I know for a fact she had a rough past. But so did most girls that work and live here, and I haven't wanted to gag any of them with an apple when they speak with me. No use dwelling on the subject, I just wanted to say thanks for teaching her a lesson."

"I enjoyed it too," I quipped, quite charmed. The receptionist then explained the monetary system to me, speaking clearly and focused. It took her five minutes at most, even clarifying the usual rates and how I could properly invite my own clients to the brothel. Basically, I could pay the rent weekly or monthly, and it incorporated all the expenses, no shady percentages, complicated fees for protection or similar rip-offs. I have to give it to Geoffrey, I could see myself working at this brothel long term.

As the lecture concluded, I found myself growing fond of the cat, even feeling remorse for when I had addressed her so coldly earlier. She was ready to say goodbye. "Quite simple, yes? Oh, my name is Fiona by the way. And don't be a stranger, Marcella!"

I realised her black hair was neatly tied in a braid and I needed something similar for the task ahead, else locks of hair would cover my eyes, blinding me in combat. "Do you tie your hair yourself? I have a favour to ask."

She quizzically looked in my eyes, then parted her lips. "Actually, I do. I'd say you look good with your hair loose but hop on the counter if you so desire." She patted the impregnated wood with her dark furred cat hand, claws retracted. I reflected how much I would've liked to have fully retractable claws; still, I'm a lot luckier in this regard than other foxes, I can hide mine at least partially.

I sat on the counter in one smooth motion and Fiona combed my hair back, tying it together at shoulder level. "Done! This should do nicely, a ponytail would look terrible on you. Come later if you want something more complex."

I got to my feet, shaking my head slightly to see if the new hair style worked. Pleased with the result, I turned around and excused myself. "Thanks Fiona, this is excellent. I have to go now, I truly enjoyed our chat and I will visit you later. Have a nice evening!"

She smiled and wished me good luck before sitting on a stool, playing with the only loose strand of hair on her head. I stepped out into the eerie city, lit with sun beams from the partially overcast sky. I looked up on the buildings, only then learning the name of the decadent yet likeable brothel. Midnight Floweret, in bronze letters above the entrance, reflecting daylight in my squinting eyes. Yes, I didn't know the name of the place where I was staying for the last three days.

I appreciated blending in with other morphs in the quarter of the city as I walked towards the periphery next to the gate. I had to fumble with my pouch, looking for the permit as a particularly bored guard stood in front of me, his hand extended, waiting for the document. Once it was found, he inspected it, his grimace emphasized as he was clearly dissatisfied with his job post. Taking one short glance at me, he gestured me to pass through the smaller door in the gate and returned the product of bureaucracy to me. Bored or not, he at least did his job, unlike that worm of a human called Bosnar.

After few encounters with guards in the Entryway District, I stopped stowing the permits away since each one of the patrols kept pestering me about them. They sure didn't like morphs strolling in the streets. Some of the regular inhabitants gave me bitter looks but I was spared any vocal indignations, thankfully. Arriving at the main, and only, entrance to the city, I hoped dearly neither of the abusive duo of Bosnar and Kryll was tending the gate. I took a deep breath and walked forward.

A young looking human, clothed in the guard garb stepped over and greeted me politely, "Good day lady, do you wish to pass? If so, prepare your identification please."

His attitude knocked the breath out of me; he even looked cute under the helmet and I couldn't help but to wink as I gave him the bundle of papers. His cheeks started to flush and I could feel my foxy tail swishing on its own.

"Lords almighty, there is over-abundance of information in this description. That Bosnar is a real schmuck." He compassionately looked in my eyes, comforting me with his speech, "Please, accept at least my sincere apology. If you arrived just a day later, I would have spared you of all this."

I was unsure if it wasn't just a deliberate trick, so I spoke indifferently, "What do you mean, lad?" He neatly packed the papers and returned them, whistling at the gate operators before answering.

"Bosnar had to leave abruptly and won't be returning for a month. That is as much as I know." The young guard stopped, as if rethinking his words and then finished speaking. "I said too much already. Return safely, citizen!"

Bandits and a Vixen

The gate opened enough for me to comfortably walk through, as I went on my way I brushed the only nice guard in town with my fluffy tail, something for him to daydream about. I left the town behind me as I walked by the city farms and stables, eventually veering off the stone path and into tall trees, travelling north towards the bandits and their territory. I had at least an hour of tiresome walking ahead of me. Fresh forest breeze brushed my exposed vulva and I moaned happily. Wearing panties is a strongly foreign concept to me, the only exception being when I have to wear them for several days on a monthly basis.

I made sure to walk steadily, tiptoeing over fallen branches and never throwing a silhouette when traversing open spaces. When the position of the shifting sun indicated the passing of one hour, I prepared my bow, nocking in an arrow. I was in their territory; I could turn from the bold, resolute hunter into a hopeless prey in a blink of an eye.

I arrived at one of the spots Mana had showed me on the map; it was desolated but unquestionably in use. The ground was stirred and marked with mud spots, the forest grass and fern trampled in a circular fashion. In its centre were logs of charred wood, sloppily covered by a layer of dirt. I cushioned my soft bottom on a large rock; someone was nice enough to have scratched it free of moss with a knife.

My nose tingled as I felt a human like smell in the frigid air; I got up and sneaked slowly in its direction, walking from tree to tree. When nearing the second gathering place, my ears perked up on their own, the deep scar on my left ear aching softly. I stopped to listen, at first hearing only rustling of the pine trees in the gentle breeze. Once I focused, I heard something resembling a conversation, clearing my mind I pressed on, keeping low and silent.

I arrived at a crest overgrown with fern and moss; dropping on my stomach, I crawled to its peak and I was met with my prey. Three men, wearing rough leather jackets and dark coloured pants, visibly armed. I kept as motionless as possible, but my intents were threatened by one lucky fern that got between my thighs and tickled my nether lips. Shoving that rude plant away was too much of a risk, so I let it have the time of its life. Two of the human bandits were occupied by a heated conversation while the last one kept nervously walking about; the restless grimace that played across his face was so deeply etched in he could crush walnuts with the expression alone.

Rest of the muggers were either at their base or stealing and murdering on the winding paths typical in this cold, rocky kingdom. I had to gather information first and the two blabbing bastards looked like a good source. I was hidden nearly forty metres away, but I could hear them clear as if they were bickering right next to me - one of the benefits of big vixen ears.

"So what if we keep killing them? It's not like the king and his corrupt boot lickers have ever done anything about it." The bandit speaking was imposingly tall; a mane of shoulder length brown hair covered his head and he wore a bastard sword in a sheath on his back. His tone was sceptical and irritated; he had probably been pondering on some topic for a long time and tired of it.

His sparring partner was shorter, average height and furiously gesticulating to get his points across. "And for what stupid reason do we have to keep killing them? We are muggers dammit, not fuckin' murderers!"

Chuckling, the bandit with the bastard sword said, "Oh, I know what you mean. You want to have sex with them! You know what they say, once you taste a tail you're never going back!" The chuckle turned into thunderous laugh, his long mane shaking along with the rest of his body.

"It's not my fault that the whores you bring are always ugly as feck! That red haired bitch? She reeked like your armpit. Ugh!" His voice was gaining pitch with every sentence delivered. The shorter man looked like a good source of information; I decided to use his passion for morphs as a nice leverage.

"Really? So instead of having a nice smooth human pussy you'd rather rape some hairy mutant? How low you've sunk, mate," the tall one spoke, poking fun at his friend.

The smaller bandit with short, black hair was aggravated by that response, half shouting, "This arsed logic of yours! Torturing and murdering them is all right, but when I fuck them? You act like I'm the devil himself!" He turned completely red in his face, his breath steaming in the cold air.

"Don't take this so seriously, I'm just teasing you. We are all going to hell one day anyway." Calming his friend, the long haired man tilted his head and shouted at the bald bandit who was still walking about, inspecting something in the distance. "What is the hold up Mattson? I'm freezing like an icicle here and you haven't even started with the bonfire. Get a move on!"

Mattson shouted back from behind some distant tree, "Shut up! Trying to piss here, you mongrel!"

I didn't hear anything that would indicate he was urinating; I had a feeling he sensed me somehow - that he had been trying to pinpoint my location the whole time and just didn't want to accidentally reveal his intentions. I inhaled deeply; the spicy odour of the vegetation I was hiding in filled my nostrils and I sprung to my feet, pulling the bow string fully back. My mind was clear and my breathing disciplined; only Lady Luck could stop me.

I aimed at the tall man and launched the arrow from my trusty bow; it whistled through the air as it made its way to the target, piercing his throat, interrupting the dialogue. I pulled another arrow from my quiver immediately. My first victim slumped to the ground from the force of the impact and was left to bleed out; his crude friend only managed to turn my way before I fired. The arrow lodged in his thigh; he tripped backwards, caught in shock, landing on his back. I needed the bastard alive and capable of talking.

Third arrow nocked, I scanned the forest with my eyes but I couldn't find Mattson anywhere. A speck of light reflected by his bald skull was the only warning I got as he flanked me. I narrowly sidestepped his stab; the sharp blade grazed into my leather jacket and cut it open like it wasn't even there. I felt a stinging pain on my belly as the edge cut my skin open, warm blood soaking the white fur that covers my soft spots. He followed with an overhead swing and I was forced to deflect it with my bow, thus destroying my only loyal friend.

He mocked me in-between his attacks, spewing insults and spit my way, "You hairy cunt! I'll mangle your corpse once I'm through with you!" His deep and harsh voice got under my skin as effectively as his short sword did.

In the time I bought myself by sacrificing the bow I unsheathed my sword, switching the stance and getting ready to fight. I deflected next few blows with ease, gaining back my calm and morale, striking back at times when he left his sides open and even slicing his arm. Not even grunting, the bandit feinted his next attack and in my attempt to riposte I completely exposed myself. He claimed the opportunity, smirking ear to ear. I cursed once I realized my fatal mistake, knowing his blow would kill me without a doubt. I quickly gestured with my left hand, focusing myself, hoping I would be faster than his lethal attack. My little spell worked, a concentrated burst of air shot from my clawed fingers with a loud blast. The blunt force yanked the sword from his hand and sent him fumbling two steps back, kicking up dirt in the air as he stomped.

Without a hint of hesitation I leaped after him and with a lunge I pierced his stomach with my sword. A small gush of crimson red blood stained the sharp, cold metal, trickling down his black leather jacket. I grinned in his face as it turned pale, knowing I made it to the top of this small pile. With a pain filled grunt his legs gave way and he crumbled to the forest floor, the last remnants of life escaping from his open wound. I felt a bit sick to my stomach as I inspected my handiwork. The only man that survived wailed in a pool of his own blood, vocalization of his pain hurting my pointy ears.

I walked over to him, the wound on my belly ripping open as I moved. I unbuttoned my broken jacket, undressing nude so I could assess the damage done to my tender flesh. I exhaled in relief as I traced my finger along the gash; it was a mere flesh wound, although rivulets of my blood were pushed out every time my heart made a beat. I decided against healing it with magic, saving my spell force for when I would get hurt in a more severe manner. I fastened a small bundle of bandage I always carry with me around my waist, sealing the cut.

The sole survivor was watching my naked curves with a masked breath, even forgetting to moan in agony. I clothed myself swiftly, turning my attention to his broken body, resolving to finish the job.

"Enjoying the sights you bastard?" I knelt to his bleeding leg, unpacking a map I carry with me and jerking the feathered end of the arrow. He grunted in strong pain, clenching his teeth till his gums were visible.

I growled, "Listen closely. I want the location of the lair your pathetic gang resides in, you on the other hand want this to end quickly." I jerked the arrow again, pointing it at the map, pushing screams out of his throat. "Is it here? Or perhaps here?" Sliding over the waxed paper, I pointed all around the kingdom, ripping the hole in his leg bigger with every move of my paw. Leaning close to his ear, I hissed, "You didn't like killing the morphs, did you? Clear you conscience and spit it out."

His convulsing face was drenched in thick sweat; after a moment that felt like eternity, he opened his trembling lips. "Go fuck yourself, bitch!"

What a nasty reaction to such a nice girl. I sat on his ribcage roughly and he yelped, his eyes darting over my vixen body. With a disgusted smirk I lifted my blouse, pulling at my clitoral hood until my sensitive bud was fully exposed.

I cannot even imagine what he was going through as I spoke, "Like this? I know you want me, to feel my soft fur in the tight grasp of your own fingers, tasting the sweet taste of female sex one last time before you die?" He trembled in agony under me, whining when I rolled back a bit and spread my legs, pulling my nether lips apart. "I shall grant you one last lick, once you tell me where the lair is. Take it as your dying wish."

I was disgusted with myself for granting him my body in exchange for information. The only thing he deserved was a sword up his ass. With a weak cough he grasped the map, his shaking, blood covered finger landed on a spot not far away. Stuttering at nearly every word he tried to explain, "It is in an abandoned mine, with a large pool of water next to it. You can get inside through a submerged entrance, or walk right in for all I care."

I pulled at the arrow, degrading his condition further; if he was dishonest I would find out. "I can be a lot more cruel." I stared deeply into his eyes; speckles of warm blood stained the base of my tail as I gradually carved his flesh open.

He desperately whined, "Please! I'm telling the truth! No more!" Whether he was lying or not, I had had enough. As I had promised him, I shifted my pubic mound, thus granting him access to my cold nether lips. I felt his warmish tongue sliding slowly along, savouring the taste for as long as possible. He gasped when a bead of my pre ejaculate coated his taste buds, air steaming from his shallow breaths. My stiff clitoris tingled once his quivering tongue left my embrace and I shuffled away.

Unsheathing a knife fastened to my boot, I gave him one last look, driving the tip of the tool past his ribcage. I could feel his heart pulse one last time before I pierced it, banishing him from existence. I felt empty inside, as if the conflicting emotions I was going through had left, leaving only an empty shell.

There was nothing else for me in that place, at least so I thought when I straightened, ready to leave. Remembering I had to bring some sort of evidence back, I searched the bandit corpses.

They all wore a strange medallion; it looked like the coins which were in use before the civil war ensued but I couldn't be sure - I was born fifteen years after it ended. I collected all three, cutting the leather strings they hung from with my knife. I walked away, leaving the massacre behind me and the bastards to rot.

It took me no longer than ten minutes to reach the spot marked on my map with dried, brown blood. I would never have found it on my own; the old mine was hidden amid dense forest foliage and tall pine trees, the only give away being the pool of murky water. I sneaked close, advancing on all fours; the entrance looked desolate, but a trace of smoke my nose picked up was a clear signal - they had to be there.

Expecting the entrance to be trapped, I hid my broken bow along with my pouch and quiver in a particularly dense bush and slowly submerged myself in the bone freezing water. The bandit didn't lie; I swam through the tight opening and into the mine. Holding my breath, I carefully emerged and took a look around; finding the area clear, I crawled to the slimy shore. I immediately regretted taking the underwater route; my fur and clothing were soaking wet, the frigid liquid nosily dripping on the already slippery rocks as I walked.

Save for a handful of torches the interior was pitch black; seeing wooden struts falling apart in the water I figured the old mine must have collapsed, leaving only the natural cave system intact. The sound of incoming footsteps startled me; I hastily took cover in a thick shadow. Clearly a man, his medallion glistened in the flickering light emanating from the torches. I cringed as I realized I left a wet path on the ground; he was walking by fast and slipped on the wet rocks. The wide bandit fell flat on his ass with a loud slap, cursing like a dog with a broken tail.

He shouted, "Shit! Nathan you son of whore! I told you that if you swam inside one more time I would kick your flat naked ass all the way to Cyrilia!" I nearly failed to suppress a giggle. Preparing myself to attack, I leaped from the shadow. His painful yelp was muffled by my hand as I stabbed his back crudely. The amount of blood flowing from his mangled kidney warmed my belly and thighs; I shivered, repulsed by how much I welcomed it. Mustering all of my strength I rolled the heavy body, hiding it in shadows. Only two were left for me to kill.

I traversed the cave slowly; deeper down, the corridors were decorated as one would expect a house to be - various pots atop ageing furniture, walls covered by colourful tapestry and even one painting, falling apart from excessive humidity. Two males were sitting inside something best described as a dining room, resting their hands on a large, beaten up table. I inched to the entrance, peeking inside while my heart increased its pace.

One of them had his back turned to me, his features hidden, save for a dark brown leather hat, covering his skull and neck. Opposite from him, facing my way, sat a man in his late forties, calmly watching his partner. Come to think of it, each of the bandits looked forty at least. His eyes were a sight to behold, grey in colour and with a piercing, wise stare, he looked like a seasoned killer. Dark grey hair covered his head, it was cut short and catching hints of silver. A wide and badly healed scar ran down his face, cutting his left cheek in halves. He filled me with unease; with a bow I would have shot him first, but my beautiful weapon was broken and dead.

The bandit whose face was hidden from me was noisily slurping soup and started speaking, probably from the long while.

"How are we standing with that order of wine? The one barrel we mugged from the ugly cat managed to dry up." He sipped more soup from his spoon.

The bandit with the steely eyes, clearly the boss, responded with a bored yet still very dominant tone, "No deliveries for now. We have to redouble our efforts and we only get paid in coin now. How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

"Oh yes, I always forget. No matter, as long as we keep making new rugs for ourselves I'm fine with anything."

My muzzle dropped as I looked instinctively at the floor. Under the table was a large fur rug, with a distinct feline pattern marking its length. My heart skipped a beat as shock struck me, the realization filling me with uncontrollable rage. I didn't care if he was joking or not. All fur rugs disgust me, no matter from what or, gods forbid, who. I walked in, sword in hand and heart pulsing fast, my figure covered in the damp blood of my earlier victims. The chief didn't even as much as jolt in his seat; my stare met his calculating gaze.

His partner took the initiative, his aggressive voice scraping my folded ears as he spoke, "Speaking of rugs - you lost, little vixen?" He stood to full height, flashing a sharp and old looking sword. "I'll show you what we do with stray animals."

My response was a barrage of stabs and slashes; he underestimated my sword skill, limited though it was, and my attacks started to connect after his initial deflects. Rivulets of blood splashed onto the cave walls and after a well performed half pirouette I followed with a side way slash attack. His death was the first that brought me joy and satisfaction, as my short sword beheaded the filth standing in front of me.

I turned, facing the chief head on, silent. He looked square in my eyes, his stare cold and resolute, making the fur on my neck stand up. "This was bound to happen sooner or later - though I didn't expect my group to shatter under the sword of solitary woman."

He leaped from his chair and kicked the large table across the room, far faster than I could react. I groaned as the solid wood hit me in my groin, stirring the wound on my belly and further distracting me. He charged at me with a primal cry, a bastard sword in his hand. I feared for my life, narrowly dodging his first attack by rolling to the side. His attacks were slow but the sheer length of his weapon kept me at bay and I found myself walking backwards into a wall. That mistake alone was enough to end my life, he smiled and swept the two handed sword sideways at me.

Lady Luck was on my side the whole time - being a whore herself, it is only logical she favoured me. The tip of the brutal sword of my opponent latched into a stalactite; his face twisted in surprise, and I jumped at him, wanting to topple him over. It worked, somewhat - we both fell into a dark corridor that sloped downwards, painfully sliding deeper and deeper. I was gaining momentum the entire fall before a solid layer of mud stopped me. I veered in terrible pain - in my fall I grazed my soft tail against something and it nearly tore my precious brush off.

The root of my tail quickly numbed, and I walked towards the bandit chief, his injuries far greater than mine. He stumbled to his feet, his face twisted with agony as his right hand hung limply at his side. Even so, he quickly jabbed at my muzzle; expecting nothing better of him, I caught his wrist in my paw, squeezing strongly.

My claws ripped his sleeve open, etching deeply into his rough skin and flesh; I used it as leverage and threw him to the ground over my knee. He was quaking wildly when I sat on his chest and squeezed my legs together. Since my claws were ripping through his arms, keeping them in place, I opened my maw wide and bit his throat. The strong, metallic taste of his blood filled my mouth as I squeezed, ripping his neck apart. I growled loudly; his body violently winced twice, and the gush of blood filling my muzzle ceased.

Once I was sure he was dead, I rolled to my side, panting and trying to catch my breath. I felt ecstatic - not only had I survived, but I had vanquished the murderous group. It took a few good spits to clear my aching mouth from the awful blood; every bone in my body hurt and I sported a new scar, along with an injured tail. I gently stroked the base of my foxy brush; it was swollen but thankfully neither broken nor dislodged.

I took a look around; the cave room was illuminated by an opening high above. The weak light nearly made me overlook half dozen of chests hidden behind a stone relief. I tried to open them all - most contained clothing and food, but one resisted my touch, locked. After collecting the medallion, I also searched the chief's jacket; one of the pockets contained, along with a cold, small key, a strange note on a neatly folded paper.

It read, 'Increase morph casualties, pay stays the same. Meeting in two months.', followed by a sequence of numbers and two characters, L and T, perhaps initials. I didn't like what was written there one bit. I unlocked the stubborn chest; its hinges creaked and I was met with the spoils of my victory. I forgot to breath as I submerged my paw in a pile of gold coins, the currency tinkling against my claws. With the chest in my hands, I crawled up the ascending corridor and collected the last medallion from the mutilated bandit. Together with six of the dead bandits, it brought up my total kill count to twenty-six.

Sun was already set when I walked out the entrance, passing a handful of bear traps that were laid in the passage; they were dead easy for my light feet to avoid. I packed the gold in my pouch and collected the rest of my gear from the dense bush, discarding the chest. I couldn't bring myself to do the same with my bow - it had been part of my life for at least five years and it saved my slutty butt on more than one occasion.

Free of any worry I walked along the snaking foot paths, a big chunk of the way still ahead of me. I only stopped to wash myself in the cleanest forest river I managed to find, yelping in surprise as the cold water dribbled down my sore flesh. The crystal clear water reminded me of my meeting with Amand; somewhere deep inside, I wished I could feel his smell again. Unlike most males he still lingers in my mind. Sometimes I ask myself why I left him at the inn in the valley, even though I know he would bring far more trouble into my life than his knot is worth.

Evening spoils

The nice guard greeted me once again when I arrived at the city gate, holding a big halberd in his hand. He smiled widely, then frowned once he realized how beaten up I was. "I'm glad to see you safely returned, though - are you hurt? Can I help?"

I smiled at him, thankful for his worry, and spoke in a soft tone, "I'm all right, thanks. I just need some sleep, that is all." I planned to heal myself with magic once safely in bed.

He walked closer to me; my nose dampened as I felt a sweet smell of a young, clean man. "I insist, patching you up is the least I can do." I wasn't so sure about his offer - the guards have a bad reputation of abusing vixens, after all.

Speaking in a soft manner, he tried to convince me. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

"But I do, young man. Are you willing to risk it?" If he only knew.

Eventually, his cuteness won me I over and I nodded, walking after him into the guard quarters.

The place was as dark and depressing as during my first escapade, though luckily free of any other guards. He led me into a doctor's room, gesturing for me to seat myself. Removing his helmet, he revealed his soft face and flocks of light, brown hair, lit up by an oil lamp. Searching for something in a cabinet, he asked, "Can you describe me your wounds, so I know what to administer?"

I liked where it was going; his delicious smell and the innocent manner in which he had addressed me made my loins tingle in arousal. Allowing him to properly work on my wounds would require me to strip naked; I imagined all the ways I could tease him, and I licked my lips in anticipation. "A cut on my belly, I sprained my tail and countless bruises. Think you can handle that?"

Placing glass vials and bandages on a desk in front of me, he looked at me with his brown eyes, blushing a little. "Uhm. I'll turn around while you prepare yourself."

That was against my plan, adorable though it was. I grabbed his hand, smiling mischievously while I unbuttoned my dark brown leather jacket, speaking, "No need for that, lad. I want you to watch."

I fumbled with the belts a bit - moreso as I tried to remove my pouch without exposing its contents. Sliding out of my blouse, which had turned dark brown thanks to the tides of blood that soaked into it, I freed my palm filling breasts and moist, needy slit. I grinned as his eyes nearly rolled out, bathing me in his attention. Trying to keep decorum, the young man prepared the disinfectant and leaned close to me, spilling the liquid on a piece of wool.

"It will sting a bit." His skin emanated heat, his face slowly turning red as I lumped in my chair, giving him access to both my wound and my petite flower. He made sure not to brush my naughty bits by accident, cleaning the wound with care. "I should probably sew this too, it will keep opening otherwise."

I grasped his hand; having my belly stitched together was the last thing I wanted. Tracing my free paw along I closed the wound with my little healing spell, my skin burning under the fur as I did so. He gazed in disbelief, eyes darting all over me. "Wow. I have never seen anything like that! I'm sorry for holding you up, If I knew-" I pulled him close, silencing him with a kiss. He couldn't be that oblivious - it is just that my not so subtle ways push everyone into disbelief.

I spoke once I ended the sweet kiss, "Maybe I just wanted feel your hands on my aching body? You still have my tail and bruises to heal, handsome. Get to it!" With a sexual growl I rested my chest and breasts on the wooden table, presenting my hind to the young man, bent over like the lowly slut I was. My wounded tail only twitched - if healthy the wilful thing would be twirling in the air wildly, lost in its own mating dance. His pants visibly tented; a carnal need filled me, to kneel in front of him and bathe him in my licks. I moaned a few times as he gently grasped the root of my tail, his hand covered in some cooling gel.

"This will ease the pain, lady. I cannot fathom who would want to hurt such a beautiful vixen." The lad finally got the idea; his hand was tickling at my back entrance as he massaged my tail, soaking the fur on the swollen spot with the healing solution. He almost traced all the way to my inner thigh, finally giving into his desires, before stopping abruptly.

"I... Where does it keep aching you?" I chuckled, I was completely ready and needy yet he was too nervous to bring himself to do anything.

I slid off the table, dropping directly onto my knees; and with a lustful gaze I murmured, "My poor muzzle keeps aching. I wonder if you have what is needed to cure it?" His cock couldn't be happier once I freed it from the restriction of his tight pants. I sighed in joy as his swelling head landed on my puckered fox lips and soft tongue. He was breathing heavily, too lost in lust to respond or react.

I don't even know why, but the act of kneeling in front of a ready male, intent on orally stimulating him, is simply my favourite act of love. When they moan and squirm under my touch, my insides burn with passion; their drops of need cover my tongue and my head spins from the taste alone; and I know I brought them to heaven with my own skill and beauty.

The lad's seventeen centimetres of length disappeared in my hungry mouth, his fluids smearing along my inner cheeks and twirling tongue. My lips tingled with every pass of his head, as did my quivering pussy, dripping my own manifestation of need on the cold, rough floor. Stroking his well formed butt cheeks I looked up, inspecting his lust ridden face. He was covered in droplets of sweat; his glistening eyes met mine and his shaft twitched as he watched me suck him. He extended one hand and I did what I always do, moving back until only the tip of his cock was inside, exposing my sharp teeth and growling, "Keep your hands behind your back, young man."

He bounced in surprise, but to my amazement, insisted. "I won't pull you, I just want to rub your ears. Please?"

I let him, sucking his length back in as he gently grasped my ear, rubbing the fur between his thumb and index finger. Even with a muzzle fully stuffed with delightful cock I chuckled; every single human that takes interest in morphs is always so strangely fascinated by our exotic bits. He was grunting noisily and I knew I would be rewarded with warm cum soon. Grabbing his heavy balls in my clawed paw I rolled them sensually. He bucked his hips and splattered my palate with one last spurt of pre ejaculate before his cock stiffened.

I moaned strongly as a jet of seed plastered my throat; my pussy clenched in a mild orgasm as his hot, perverted fluid filled my muzzle. Pumping his throbbing length, I milked him free of his seed as it pooled in my mouth, sating my primal desires. Looking deeply into his eyes the entire time, I rolled the salty drink in my mouth and gulped it down, although it was a bit runny for my liking. I slurped his member clean as he left my hot embrace, putting a finishing touch on my handiwork.

The young guard slumped in a chair, panting and even shaking in afterglow. He was speechless, bathing me in a loving gaze. I wasn't done teasing him yet; I pulled at the silk scarf pockmarked with blood, exposing the vibrant red collar that declared me to be a slut. He knew immediately, his face sinking in his gentle hand as he sighed, "I should have known. I'm never this lucky myself..."

Poor man, he probably thought I tricked him out of coin and I felt sorry, even if he could just throw me in jail and pretend this never happened. "Come on, I can tell you loved it. Besides, I don't expect any gold in return." If it had been business for me, I would have declared so before even starting.

He glanced my way, his face a combination of several contradictory feelings. "No it's not that, I'll gladly pay. I just thought... I thought I finally found someone, someone to be with."

Somehow, I expected it. It's not the first time someone reacted like that, and certainly not the last time either. I caressed his cheek, ignoring the hopeful stare etched in his eyes. "This vixen prefers being free. Besides, I would destroy you in time, you can be sure of that."

Cringing at my own terrible efforts at comfort, I got up and clothed myself, the cute lad doing the same. He leaned against me, whispering in my ear, "Can I at least escort you home? It's already dark outside."

"Sure, I would love that." I whispered back. His sincere smile washed away the touchy nature of the topic we had covered.

I felt more like I was on a date than being escorted through a rough and dangerous city. He was telling jokes as we went, holding my paw at times when he was sure the street was empty, once even groping my butt rudely. In spite of myself I liked it; once, at the entrance to the Morph Quarter, I leaned on his chest and kissed him on his lips softly. "Thanks for the nice evening. If you ever feel lonely, visit Midnight Floweret and ask for Marcella."

His brown eyes livened and his voice gained colour too. "How I can resist such a nice offer by such a beautiful fox? My name is Belmont, loved meeting you too."

With these words, we parted ways. The walk to the brothel was swift. I wanted nothing else but to throw myself in bed and sleep; I was completely exhausted. I took care of the meeting Geoff scheduled with as little effort as possible; seeing the door to his chambers slightly ajar, I barged in. He was sitting behind that large table; several courtesans in the room were discussing something with the imposing bull. Rona pierced me with her contempt filled stare; I ignored her and threw the six medallions in front of Mana.

"It is done." With those words I left as suddenly as I entered, walking into my room. Roughly undressing, I fell in the spacious bed nose first, covering myself in soft red sheets. Fatigue overwhelmed me in mere seconds and I dozed off. I hadn't slept so well in months, my pouch full of gold and most importantly, knowing that my years of training weren't for nothing.