Indulging in Vulpine Pleasure
Indulging in Vulpine Pleasure, by Starlight.
Finished: 17:26 21/11/2005
M/M NC
The Wolf, snarling disdainfully chuckled as he looked over the trim, red-fluffed body of the inferior creature. The Vulpine dared to look back at him with more than a little arrogance, far too much presumption for his own safety and too little respective for the Lupine's greater place in the natural scheme. The wolf would have appreciated a bit more respect for his oh-so apparent superiority, but never mind. All so much the better to break and take him, for the Foxes need to be taught, he mused.
The sprawling shadow-figures of the trees seemed to formed an ominous barrier of darkness around the edge of the clearing, the depths of the forest hidden as the eyes struggled to compensate for the almost-fallen sun.
Having continuously sized up the Fox since he had laid a somewhat tipsy eye on him some hours ago, the Wolf had gone to some trouble to arrange this interception. He had followed the Fox in just the right manner, as a true hunter should. With Wolfen cunning which he knew was above and beyond that of the vaunted Vulpine's, he had kept his distance just so until he wanted the Fox to catch a hint of his presence. After that, it was a simple case of shifting his relative position until the Foxes' natural caution had allowed him to be sheparded to this clearing, which swallowed up sound and vision and where there was only one easy exit, behind the Wolf. There would be no disturbance and no escape.
He felt positively wonderful as he stood there, marvelling at how this was how things should be. Damn the accords of inter-species respect and damn the agreements of order. He had a superior body and superior cunning, nature demanded that he do as he felt right. He was bred to do as much. Right now, he wanted to abuse this Fox. Maybe he wanted to spill Fox blood. He wasn't sure yet. He grinned, toothily, demonstrating his superior jaws to the thing. Wolves are supposed to kill Foxes.
Raising and cocking his head, the Wolf regarded the Fox, who was still too stupid to realise how much danger he was in, standing there with a calm, expectant smile. Perhaps the fool thought this was some ordinary meeting in the dark, some romantic meeting. Were that the case he would love all the more to see the look on the Vulpine's face when he began.
Despite having already spent a great deal of time detailing the creature's anatomy, the Wolf found himself re-examining it again, for the sake of seeing it in the light of the clearing - pre-taking. He'd build up a mental 'before' picture now, whilst the Fox still looked like this.
Standing in a tight posture that was to a wolf more feminine than that of a she-Wolf, the Foxes' build seemed undecided between skinny and athletic, which was not uncommon for his species. Relatively weak looking forearms and calves connected to compact but substantial thighs and upper-arms connected to positively solid looking shoulder and rump muscles. An agile, slender body tied the two together with a disproportionately thin waist. A handful of inches less around the waist and the creature would look like it might snap. Thick, soft, voluminous, brick-red Fur doubled the Foxes' appearance of size, he knew and he appreciated the oh-so soft cushioning he knew it would provide on the Vulpine's relatively frail body soon. A disproportionately sized tail hung behind the fox, swaying very, very slowly from side to side.
Nothing he hadn't seen before and plenty that pleased him. His weakest muscles could overpower the Foxes' strongest. He had at least half a foot in height and at least double the mass of the slight creature. The Fox had nothing on him.
It had long been known that Canine, Vulpine and Feline had a single common ancestor. When the three parted company, the Felines had chosen independance, agility and finesse, the Canines strength in speed, body and numbers and the Vulpines had dictated that neither extreme was correct. They would be both and better. He chuckled. They were NOTHING.
Still chuckling to himself, he launched himself at the Fox, bursting into forward-motion in a ferocious, sudden lunge, fangs first, at the Fox.
The intervening distance was eaten before his eyes could even adjust to the change in motion and he opened his jaws wide, ready to bite down through fluff and fur, crippling and hurting and rendering pained and helpless...
He was tingling with the expectation when his muzzle met nothing, but a brush on the side from a moving tail.
Sailing on through empty air and catching nothing, the Wolf wheeled around and kicked to a stop, quickly locating the Fox and staring angrily, hunching down as the Fox straightened himself. The Fox lowered his muzzle gave him a sad look, filled with firmness, yet regret. The kind you give a cute, wanting cub you are trying not to spoil.
A savage growl ripped from the Wolf's throat as his muzzle curled back in a killer's snarl. He lunged toward the Fox again, this time slower and lower than before. It was a nice dodge, but a little care would find the creature's weakness. He only needed to find one.
Storming in low across the dusty clearing, the Wolf approached the Fox steadily, waiting to see what it would do next. The distance closed, the Fox didn't move. The Wolf snarled with delight. It was in shock, soon to be his. Coiling back fractionally, the Wolf lunged up at the Foxes throat, jaws wide. Excitement rushed through his body filling every vein with joy - he would have him, holding him by the throat, then he would have his throat.
He didn't find the Foxes' throat. He found himself sailing through the air faster even than he had leapt. His mind, still foggy with alcohol, took a moment to catch up with what was going on. He barely had time to arrange himself and landing on one handpaw, tumbled untidily onto his back and over onto his arse. He almost tumbled muzzle-first into the ground, but he managed to stop himself.
Snarling and growling unsteadily now, the constant, low, threatening tone interrupted by snorts and spits, the Wolf turned to look at the Fox, who was brushing dirt from his back.
A sudden, sharp pain gripped his abdomen and he yelped sharply, clenching briefly into a ball around his body's abused centre-of-gravity. It took a second for him to realise his embarassment and shaking once, violently, the Wolf forced himself back to his feet and faced the smaller creature, feeling the wrath of his kind bearing down on this filthy little vulpine and his insulting actions.
The red rat-turd looked at him with the same look as before and shook his head, uttering a single, "Tut."
Snarling from ear to ear and shaking with passionate anger and from the sheer volume of his growling, the Wolf stood up straight and began to stride towards the Fox. No careless approach this time, no chance for the Fox to use his cursed trickery. Sharp digitagrade footpaws stabbed into the hard ground as the Wolf stormed over towards the Fox. He was going to kill this Fox slowly. He would torture him even after he'd satisfied himself. He would rape every orfice, he would mutilate every part of his body before he let him die... and he would never let himself be humiliated like this again.
The Fox straightened his bearing to look right at him, then shook his head and let his posture slip into a slouch again. The Wolf decided that he would rip that look off of his face.
Striding up close, the Wolf threw an unglamorous punch straight at the Foxes' head. It didn't contact, the Fox ducked back like a blade of grass in the wind, only moving his body. Determined and unfussy and still moving forwards, the Wolf threw another with his other paw, drawing back his other fist to add momentum and aimed for the sternum. The fox began to flinch back, but the savage blow made contact anyway and the Vulpine was lifted from his feet and thrown back with a truncated yelp-bark spitting from his muzzle.
The Fox side-peddled as he landed and made some distance as he crumpled to the floor, but all the same, he was on the floor now and the Wolf's snarl grew. This was it for the Fox. Jack of all trades as the species tries to be, it's endurance where they fall short. Now that he was on the floor, he looked even more pathetic. It was now just a case of what condition he wanted the Fox in.
The Fox whimpered softly and tried to stretch, probably trying to unclinch his bruised chest and regain his freedom of motion. The Wolf grunted with pleasure, watching the creature suffer. It was only the start.
He drew back one paw, holding it high and poising for the next blow, this time an open-palm, claws-forward strike. Grinning predatorially, he swung down between the Foxes eyes with all his might - he would break the nose and claw the eyes or ears. Deprive the fox of half his senses, whichever came first. The rest would be left for him to appreciate the upcoming festival of pain. The forceful blow swung down with all of the fierce weight of the Lupine's rage and ---CRUNCH!
The Wolf screamed as his shoulder came out of its socket and he span confusingly in the air, eventually landing on his back. Intense, uncomfortable pain jangled through his body though the shoulder and he convulsed. Seemingly tender paws released his arm and it fell the the ground. The movement was possibly the most painful thing yet and he howled in agony.
Caught up in pain, the Wolf sat up (the floor was a bad place) and tried to move his arm into a comfortable position, but there were none to be found.
It took him a moment to realise that the quickly-forgotten Fox was standing just next to him.
Instinctively he lashed out, throwing a back-hand punch with his good arm, aimed at the Foxes' crotch, which was caught easily. The motion of throwing the punch alone had already caused so much pain that the Wolf's strength vanished. The fact of its capture made things worse and it was with no difficulty at all that the fox pulled the arm around the Wolves' back and stepping behind him, threw his whole body forwards, slamming the wolf, face-down into the dirt.
Howling with pain, the Wolf wriggled, only half-aware of what was going on as he suddenly found himself pinned. The Fox had wrapped his legs around the Wolves' at the knees, denying them any leverage and his one good arm was pushed up behind his back. The Vulpine suddenly had full control of him.
Puzzled, angry and suddenly worried, the wolf opened his muzzle wide and let out a growl that was missing all of its the earlier conviction. What was going on? The fox was on the damn floor! It couldn't move! Before he knew it, he was whimpering softly.
"Shush." The Foxes was so quiet and sibilant through his teeth, that it almost sank into the wind. The Wolves' ears pricked up high and turned at the Fox. He stared ahead vacantly for a moment. What!? What was that?! Who did..!?
He was about to turn his muzzle to shout at the Fox and tell him that he was already dead, that his pack-mates would hunt him to the ends of the Earth when the fox pushed his arm up against his back and simultaneously sank his teeth into the side of his neck.
Sharp Vupine teeth lightly penetrate and lacerate, drawing blood. The Wolf pauses, aghast for a moment as a tongue follows the wounds and licks up every drop of the initially-escaped blood, elliciting a deep, warm sound from the smaller creature atop his back.
He begins to struggle, instinctively planning to throw the Fox off, but it's not to be. Whichever way he turns, one shoulder or the other screams at him in pain so loudly that he quickly forgets the Fox and wriggles trying to get away from the twin pains.
Something solid and hot makes its presence known at his rump. Part of his mind is instantly aware that his strugglings are feeding the lust of a Vulpine member, sheath buried firmly between his cheeks and being filled and coaxed by the wrigglings of his rump, which is handily freeing the member as it grows.
The Wolf begins to howling with rage and indignation, but the sound is cut off quickly - sharp teeth bite down again on the side of his neck. Higher up and closer to the middle, now all-too large-seeming fangs mere millimeters from critical arteries. Instinct tells him he should be quiet.
Never so close to death before, the Wolf forgets instantly his pride and the nature of the being holding him. In a moment he's converted from an avatar of Lupine wrath to a scared and shaking pup. His quivering adds fuel to the fire already starting to rage at his rear.
Sinking his teeth millimetrically deeper and now rubbing his thickening, freed member to the Wolf's rump, the Fox lets out a deep, warm growl of pleasure that belied his smaller form, rumbling as it did through the Wolf's own body. Still wide-eyed in fright, a small, soft whimper is coaxed from his throat.
Still lapping at the small wounds, bleeding lightly but fruitfully at the Wolf's neck, the Foxes tail waves behind like a banner in the wind, the Wolf feeling the soft, thick brush tickling the inside of his thighs as the Foxes hips sway, rubbing his member in his ass.
Concentrating for a moment, above the pain and panic, the Wolf winces anew. The Vulpine's member is more akin something a large Wolf as himself should be wearing. Not quite as long, but certainly as thick. Definitely too large for a Fox. Definitely too large for him. During pack rituals, he had always proven the least hardy at being taken - even by the least masculine males.
A slight shift of hips and the member rests to the pucker of his anus, the blunt tip pressing a glob of thick-pre to the tail-hole.
He whimpers again and struggles before some of his senses return to him. What was he doing? What was going on? These questions no longer seemed as relavant as what he was to do. Taken by a Fox? He'd use every strength in his body to shake off this filth and then-
IN. The Wolf snapped rigid and silent as the Vulpine deftly shifted his hips and slid the first inch and a half in with an impossible ease that made a mockery of how much it hurt. His jaw hung open. The fox moaned deeply from his feeding place at his neck and tensed his cock again, squirting more pre into the Wolf.
The Fox muttered something without letting go, that could have been, "Oh-so nice," or anything else. Not that the Wolf was listening.
Further. Dipping back half an inch then pressing forwards again, the Fox shoved himself smoothly in further with quite the practised touch, opening up the too-tight wolf and forcing him to accomodate. Further. Again. Further. Again. "Growl."
Painfully stretched, dominated, feeling used, the Wolf stared wide eyed ahead, the conscious mind reeling in shock, unable to comprehend the goings on in the body behind it. Concepts like logic, prde, Fox, specietal and physical dominance thrown to the winds by the fact of the situation.
Unwilling to howl again, the wolf simply closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as he felt the form on his back shift supply, the flexible body squirming with delight as the Fox buried himself deep inside, drinking in the pleasure of being inside him.
He wanted to scream at the fox and struggle, but his mind was now past letting him. He wasn't sure he understood.
THUD. The Fox draws back a little and with strength borrowed from his whole body, hilts himself in the Wolf. The Wolf whimpers softly, feeling the firm, agile hips pressing up aginst and into the soft padding of his rump and fur, pressing the Foxes' thick, hot, beating member deep into his sensitive insides.
The jaws let go of his neck. Tiny trickles of blood sink through his fur and down into his chest-fur. He pants lightly, actually grateful for that relief. The Foxes quiet, indefinable voice sounds again; "Very good. You and your rump. Good."
The Fox pulls out, halfway, then, THRUST. Driving it back into the stretched, pre-lubed walls, the Fox growls aloud with pleasure and the Wolf lets out a little half-bark, half-yelp.
Again. Again. Again. The fox works himself in and out of the Wolf with deliberate slowness, deft hips supplying supreme tenderness followed by sudden force with each reciprocation.
Slowly, steadily, the pain starts to dimish for the Wolf, but he's not quite aware of it. He relaxes, becomes more receptive with each of the carefully-weighted thrusts, which grow in pace steadily...
Satisfied, the Fox begins humping proper, though carefully. Thup, thup, thup, the compact, strong hips drive Fur into Fur. The Wolf moans softly, unsure what to make of the way he's being taken, no longer quite so caring of the strange fact of being taken by a Fox at all.
Without changing pace, the Fox begins pumping harder, growling appreciatively as he's easily able to do so. Embarassingly pleasant feelings are detected by the Wolf, sickeningly confused and unable to know how to react.
Harder still... A moan of pleasure from the Fox and a wriggle through his whole body announce his pleasure. A whimper from the Wolf as he struggles with emotions that conflict inside him with no rationale to act as arbitrator. Faster. It no longer seems to matter so much. A sly feeling of pleasure wraps the Wolves' brain from the top down and he begins, quite involuntarily, to enjoy the feeling as the Fox strokes him in the most intimate of ways...
Faster still, the Wolf moans softly. Harder... The Foxes hips thudding hard into his rump begins to feel satisfying and... part of him... wishes... for more. That is satisfied. Harder still...
The Fox suddenly grabs the Wolves' neck-ruff in his teeth. Suddenly wide eyed in suprise (as if that were still possible) the Wolf finds his head and neck lifted... and the Fox begins to DRIVE into him HARDER and FASTER by far.
Bracing himself between neck and rump, the fox begins to use the strength of his whole, nimble body and the Wolf suddenly finds himself whining from a hung-open maw as he feels his ass, inside and outside, being whipped by the Foxes' whole befurred body, using him hard, somehow fucking him harder than he'd been fucked in any of the damn rose damn pack rituals.
The Foxes' thrusting began to become less regular as a new resistance was rapidly forming. The Wolf wrly acknowledged how well it had been supressed until now, but now the Foxes knot was starting to slow things up.
His body began to tremble in a way he knew, but didn't expect. He was about to... no, JUST about to.... NO. Not to this. Not to this!
The Fox gave an almighty shove and in popped the knot. The Wolf squeaked like a tickled cub and involuntarily gripped down on the Foxes member as he continued.
Without the space to thrust properly, it was all down to speed now and the Fox rode him HARD. In the couple of inches left to him, the Fox successfully the Wolves' bones RATTLE.
BANG. The Fox stopped, the knot trebled in size. Wet heat filled the Wolves' sore, sensitive insides.
Consciousness dissolved in climax. He felt himself whimpering without his will to do so, felt his whole body tense, felt his cock explode underneath him into his belly-fur. He hadn't even felt himself getting an erection. His rump gripped tightly around the member, cuddling the fox in the most intimate of ways.
Overwhelmed by conflicting sensations and emotions, dazed and confused beyond belief, the Wolf had no rational thoughts left to have, nothing but the climax that was having him.
Feeling the knot pulse inside of him, feeling the hot, panting body atop him, held close, he sensed that the Fox was watching him, waiting for his declarations or questions.
He was still trying to formulate some from out of his bedraggled mind when he fell asleep, tied, taken and worn. The Fox said nothing, except perhaps, "Silly Wolves. So easy to trick." Though he thought he might have imagined it.
When he finally woke it was to daylight. The Fox was gone.
He had to think for a long time before he was willing and able to get up again.
He had to find that Fox.