{
"submission_id": "3671616",
"keywords": [
{
"keyword_id": "194881",
"keyword_name": "aftercare",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "339"
},
{
"keyword_id": "13054",
"keyword_name": "after sex",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "7117"
},
{
"keyword_id": "285614",
"keyword_name": "amoren cinteroph",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "5"
},
{
"keyword_id": "85",
"keyword_name": "anal",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "132419"
},
{
"keyword_id": "434815",
"keyword_name": "anal impregnation",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "2"
},
{
"keyword_id": "1448",
"keyword_name": "bestiality",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "7539"
},
{
"keyword_id": "6937",
"keyword_name": "biting",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "2948"
},
{
"keyword_id": "873",
"keyword_name": "collar",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "42839"
},
{
"keyword_id": "81368",
"keyword_name": "collaring",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "125"
},
{
"keyword_id": "10073",
"keyword_name": "conversation",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "343"
},
{
"keyword_id": "242",
"keyword_name": "cum inflation",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "11916"
},
{
"keyword_id": "1689",
"keyword_name": "darkness",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "1644"
},
{
"keyword_id": "3644",
"keyword_name": "dialogue",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "19089"
},
{
"keyword_id": "32123",
"keyword_name": "dubcon",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "4198"
},
{
"keyword_id": "31091",
"keyword_name": "dubious consent",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "3148"
},
{
"keyword_id": "31817",
"keyword_name": "ego",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "71"
},
{
"keyword_id": "1979",
"keyword_name": "fae",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "1029"
},
{
"keyword_id": "735",
"keyword_name": "feral",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "96017"
},
{
"keyword_id": "9886",
"keyword_name": "fossa",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "410"
},
{
"keyword_id": "33",
"keyword_name": "fox",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "252365"
},
{
"keyword_id": "236",
"keyword_name": "gay",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "152904"
},
{
"keyword_id": "158545",
"keyword_name": "gay porn",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "1840"
},
{
"keyword_id": "2096",
"keyword_name": "gay sex",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "15247"
},
{
"keyword_id": "46673",
"keyword_name": "gaysex",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "2472"
},
{
"keyword_id": "16141",
"keyword_name": "hut",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "131"
},
{
"keyword_id": "8321",
"keyword_name": "hypnotism",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "1865"
},
{
"keyword_id": "967",
"keyword_name": "impregnation",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "17082"
},
{
"keyword_id": "473808",
"keyword_name": "intelligent feral",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "15"
},
{
"keyword_id": "78",
"keyword_name": "kissing",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "23589"
},
{
"keyword_id": "50",
"keyword_name": "kitsune",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "18515"
},
{
"keyword_id": "229",
"keyword_name": "knot",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "53794"
},
{
"keyword_id": "3024",
"keyword_name": "knotting",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "9808"
},
{
"keyword_id": "191",
"keyword_name": "magic",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "26006"
},
{
"keyword_id": "165",
"keyword_name": "male",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "1219189"
},
{
"keyword_id": "24711",
"keyword_name": "male impregnation",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "110"
},
{
"keyword_id": "10308",
"keyword_name": "male/male",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "128722"
},
{
"keyword_id": "39813",
"keyword_name": "male pregnancy",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "1953"
},
{
"keyword_id": "251725",
"keyword_name": "mating press",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "2440"
},
{
"keyword_id": "942",
"keyword_name": "m/m",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "51478"
},
{
"keyword_id": "799596",
"keyword_name": "mordero",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "2"
},
{
"keyword_id": "3820",
"keyword_name": "quadruped",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "3779"
},
{
"keyword_id": "2869",
"keyword_name": "shadows",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "607"
},
{
"keyword_id": "1454",
"keyword_name": "shaman",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "444"
},
{
"keyword_id": "7638",
"keyword_name": "soul vore",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "358"
},
{
"keyword_id": "1831",
"keyword_name": "spirit",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "3241"
},
{
"keyword_id": "44662",
"keyword_name": "spirit vore",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "3"
},
{
"keyword_id": "4760",
"keyword_name": "spooky",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "2644"
},
{
"keyword_id": "22107",
"keyword_name": "summoning",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "578"
},
{
"keyword_id": "146223",
"keyword_name": "summoning circle",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "91"
},
{
"keyword_id": "10294",
"keyword_name": "tying",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "698"
},
{
"keyword_id": "3104",
"keyword_name": "vulpine",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "37102"
},
{
"keyword_id": "17020",
"keyword_name": "witch doctor",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "84"
},
{
"keyword_id": "1450",
"keyword_name": "zoophilia",
"contributed": "f",
"submissions_count": "2696"
}
],
"hidden": "f",
"scraps": "f",
"favorite": "f",
"favorites_count": "12",
"create_datetime": "2025-07-26 00:45:55.01811+00",
"create_datetime_usertime": "26 Jul 2025 02:45 CEST",
"last_file_update_datetime": "2025-07-26 00:31:20.598204+00",
"last_file_update_datetime_usertime": "26 Jul 2025 02:31 CEST",
"username": "Amor",
"user_id": "8886",
"user_icon_file_name": "59196_Amor_amor_avatar.gif",
"user_icon_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/large/59/59196_Amor_amor_avatar.gif",
"user_icon_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/medium/59/59196_Amor_amor_avatar.gif",
"user_icon_url_small": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/59/59196_Amor_amor_avatar.gif",
"file_name": "5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.doc",
"file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.doc",
"file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.doc",
"file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.doc",
"thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.jpg",
"thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.jpg",
"thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.jpg",
"thumb_huge_x": "300",
"thumb_huge_y": "276",
"thumb_large_x": "200",
"thumb_large_y": "184",
"thumb_medium_x": "120",
"thumb_medium_y": "110",
"files": [
{
"file_id": "5654667",
"file_name": "5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.doc",
"file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.doc",
"file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.doc",
"file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.doc",
"mimetype": "application/msword",
"submission_id": "3671616",
"user_id": "8886",
"submission_file_order": "0",
"full_size_x": null,
"full_size_y": null,
"screen_size_x": null,
"screen_size_y": null,
"preview_size_x": null,
"preview_size_y": null,
"initial_file_md5": "31d3d43f31ae940cd59c22d56a94bd9b",
"full_file_md5": "31d3d43f31ae940cd59c22d56a94bd9b",
"large_file_md5": "",
"small_file_md5": "",
"thumbnail_md5": "179fd617de859fb3d405637b3591cd67",
"deleted": "f",
"create_datetime": "2025-07-26 00:31:20.598204+00",
"create_datetime_usertime": "26 Jul 2025 02:31 CEST",
"thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.jpg",
"thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.jpg",
"thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/5654/5654667_Amor_friends_on_the_other_side.jpg",
"thumb_huge_x": "300",
"thumb_huge_y": "276",
"thumb_large_x": "200",
"thumb_large_y": "184",
"thumb_medium_x": "120",
"thumb_medium_y": "110"
}
],
"pools": [],
"description": "A shaman of considerable prowess, Mordero was a fossa that was used to getting his way in almost any situation he encountered, whether that be binding and cajoling a spirit to his desires, or exploiting those around him for his own hedonistic desires. During one such self-aggrandizing victory, the fossa took as his spoils a book that contained knowledge of foreign spirits and fae that could bestow powers and boons beyond the scope of the local fauna. One such beast in particular struck the already considerably virile feliformia's fancies... A 'fox' that could endow his seed with the virility to make even men bare his children.\n\nHe'd just need to gather the power to bind this 'fae' from across the ocean, and compel it into service to render its boon upon him... A piece of cake as far as the shaman was concerned...\n\nThis piece was a commissioned written for my dear friend Certo, featuring his shaman fossa Mordero, and a certain enigmatic, shadowy kitsune known for his virility. ",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "A shaman of considerable prowess, Mordero was a fossa that was used to getting his way in almost any situation he encountered, whether that be binding and cajoling a spirit to his desires, or exploiting those around him for his own hedonistic desires. During one such self-aggrandizing victory, the fossa took as his spoils a book that contained knowledge of foreign spirits and fae that could bestow powers and boons beyond the scope of the local fauna. One such beast in particular struck the already considerably virile feliformia's fancies... A 'fox' that could endow his seed with the virility to make even men bare his children.
He'd just need to gather the power to bind this 'fae' from across the ocean, and compel it into service to render its boon upon him... A piece of cake as far as the shaman was concerned...
This piece was a commissioned written for my dear friend Certo, featuring his shaman fossa Mordero, and a certain enigmatic, shadowy kitsune known for his virility. ",
"writing": "Mordero hummed to himself as he stirred the large cauldron. The fossa’s sharp green eyes watched his concoction of viscous, bubbling green slime simmer to its ideal concentration, thickening it as needed by tossing in a few extra bones.\n\nHe wasn’t the only one eyeing the potent work of shamanistic magic being cooked, however. One of the fossa’s many spirit “friends” was doing his best to try and sneak a sample of the spiritually potent broth whenever the feliformia’s hands were occupied, a small, transparent feral votsoda which hung from the edge of the large, black iron pot. The shaman was half tempted to give the pesky little spirit a deserved end by knocking it into the brew rather than away—his ritual could always use the extra ‘kick’ that would come from the rodent spirit being dissolved within the caustic green slime... But he still had uses for the sneaky little scavenger, and summoning up its replacement would be more of a hassle than the entity’s precocious samplings.\n\nFor now, at least...\n\n‘Nearly ready,’ he hissed silently to himself, pulling the metal ladle up from the glowing, sickly green broth to take the tiniest, sampling sip—only for a toothy grin to spread across his face as the utensil dissolved apart with the motion instead!\n\n“Scratch that, it's all but done~” Mordero cackled to himself as his hand returned to stirring the cauldron with the remains of the utensil for as long as its handle lasted. His other paw, meanwhile, as well as his eyes returned to the foreign book that had made this ambitious ritual possible in the first place.\n\nIt was the prize he had ‘won’ after besting a shaman that had come from across the oceans, traveling within the strange, floating wooden fortresses that had started to appear more frequently in the last few decades—although the dog indignantly referred to himself as an ‘alchemist’ instead of a shaman when their mutual dealings with the occult was... ‘Discussed’.\n\nThe book itself was the bargain the canine had made for his freedom, an object that the man had called a ‘grimoire’---an object that contained the recorded knowledge pertaining to [i]dozens[/i] of spirits both meager and powerful that did not dwell within Mordero’s island home of Madagasikara.\n\nOf course, trying to summon a spirit from so far away would require more effort than beckoning forth one native to his homeland, making most of the book a useless curiosity to the spirit binder. But there were a few that were an exception... These enigmatic ‘fey’ as the alchemist called them could offer boons that the powers familiar to the fossa couldn’t, although the wonders they could bestow were in equal measure to their mercurial temperaments which made contracting them a typically foolish endeavor.\n\nThe one that had caught his eye was no exception. He was some sort of ‘fox’ spirit, a creature which seemed like a distant cousin to the feral mutts that the foreign traders occasionally brought with them. Although this particular fey wasn’t quite like the animals it called kin, being quite a bit larger as well as possessing five tails instead of his animal cohort’s one—all signs apparently attesting to the mystical beast’s power.\n\nBut it was a different type of potency that had attracted Mordero to summoning this entity despite the alleged risks told by both the book and his erstwhile acquaintance. The five-tailed fox was a spirit of vitality, fertility, and, most importantly to the fossa, vitality—known to bless the fields of villages that courted his favor with exceptional yields, and inhabitants with many healthy sons and daughters.\n\nHe couldn’t care less about the former—there were many local spirits the shaman could call upon to bless the soils, bestow luck upon hunters, or bring forth rain from the heavens if he was called upon by the local annoyances villagers. It was the latter of this vulpine’s portfolio that had drawn his interests, fueling his desire to enhance his already potent masculinity with the spirit’s boon, to the point that—so long as the book was accurate—his seed would be able to take root even within the belly of another man~ \n\nJust the idea made the fossa’s sheath swell with palpable excitement that was clearly visible to the myriad of spirits gathered around the shamans thanks to his half-dressed state—wearing only a green open vest around his shoulders as his hefty asset began to throb to life and add a few beads of his scent to the reed carpeting of his hut. His mind, meanwhile, swam with the devious plots his imminent boom would allow him to perform, fantasies of the rivals he’d humiliate with the ‘honor’ of baring his sons.\n\nOf course, such a delectable boon was only rivaled by this fey spirit’s difficulty to control. No matter, Mordero wasn’t some amateur afterall. Sure, he was on the young side for his profession, far from being considered an elder since he hadn’t yet seen his 20th winter, but he still had several years of experience practicing his craft—and what he lacked in experience, he more than made up with in talent and guile.\n\nHis outsider perspective also allowed him to gleam some of the fox’s tricks. Mordero was certain that the traps laid within the fox’s summoning ritual would be suitable to dupe the practitioners of his homeland with their limited knowledge of the craft. But, to a foreigner on the other side of the world now learned in both traditions, he was able to see the subtle weaknesses and exploits within the formula that the vulpine could use to wiggle free from any summoner’s net and turn the tables.\n\nA crafty fox, Mordero thought, provided the false net that lured foolish summoners to their doom was one of the fey’s own construction, and not just the result of incompetence by the compilers of the grimoire.\n\nAnd how fortunate for him that he was using a summoning method completely unknown to the fey~\n\nWith a smirk, he watched as the last remnants of the ladle dissolve into the potent muck, the thick, viscous goo bubbling around the sinking remains of the utensil. Before, with a flourish, the tribal magician fetched his bag of reagents and began his work proper!\n\nThe votsoda spirit scampered away at last as the shaman began to prepare for the most difficult, and dangerous, part of the ritual—deciding instead to join the small menagerie of servants Mordero had bound into his service over the years that were watching it play out from the edges of the hut.\n\n“Come forth, spirit far to the north.” He began, chanting with a droning hum in the back of his throat as he tossed the vulpine pelt he had bought from a foreign trader into the cauldron. “Fey of life and vigor, fey prince of forest and field, I call you here! Answer my summons and bequeath to me what I desire!”\n\nHe dropped in more items with every line he spoke, each object boiling away in quick order. Wisps of green smoke puffed out with each addition to the concoction, whilst the fossa’s green eyes and the green fur tattoos etched upon his ears and long, fellinesque tail, began to glow in sympathy with the energies he was directing. \n\n“I call you here! I demand you answer my summons and bind you by your name, Lord Amoren Cinteroph, fox spirit of virility!”\n\nThe cauldron in front of him began to froth over as the power within it—the power he needed to harness to drag a spirit from so far away—convulsed and threatened to burst free from his control at the slightest mistake! Yet the shaman continued his chants irrespective of the danger, continuing to shape the mass of spiritual might as he wished, breaching the veil to the world of spirits to yank his soon-to-be patron to his location with the metaphysical equivalent of a less than pleasant tail tug!\n\nA gust whipped forth from the large pot and foci of his ritual, causing the fossa’s open vest to flatter with the wind, whilst the anticipation burning within his blood pushed the tip of his peculiar shaft free from its exposed sheath. Soon. Oh so soon~ Perhaps he should put to use the gift he was about to receive to use on the very spirit he had coerced the power from? Oh, he could not wait!\n\nThe noxious brew began to evaporate, forming into a fog of magic that the fossa could direct with his will. Taking a step back, Mordero began to shape the veil of spiritual essence with his hands, hardening its exterior into a protective circle that would hold his ‘guest’, whilst directing the rest of the energy to begin turning upon itself—constricting into a tighter and tighter bundle of power that the fox would sprout from to enter the physical world!\n\nOr... So Mordero’s ritual should have gone, as it had many times before with the various spirits he had summoned into his service. But, instead of shaping itself into the fey beast he had seen illustrated in the book, it instead coalesced further into itself, tightening into a perfectly round ball that hovered in the center of the ritual circle and cast an eerie green hue. Despite seeming bright enough for its light to peek through the shutters of his hut, the shadows of his home only seemed to deepen underneath its baleful glow. A fact that seemed to make the small swarm of his bound spirits nervous, skulking closer towards the door and windows as the tribal fossa tried to piece together what had happened.\n\nHad his ritual failed? Did he not manage to pack enough power into his brew to reach across the continents?\n\nHe was just about to turn his attention away from the circle and to the grimoire for any answers when he noticed something in the corner of his gaze. His eyes snapped back towards the circle, but instead of focusing upon the thrumming seed of power gathered in its center, he looked off to the side—deep into the obfuscating shadows which billowed forth into the circle like a tide. There... A pair of blue eyes, hovering in the darkness like gemstones sparkling from the moon within a dark sea. Only when he stared deeper did the silhouette of the fox they belonged to appear. His narrow snout and pointed ears, framed by the green mane which grew darker near its end, were easier to spot—partially illuminated as they were by the creature’s own eyes and the hovering orb—whilst the rest of the creature blended into the darkness so well that, whenever the fossa glanced away, he’d have to search out the beast’s blurred visage once more.\n\nForeign spirit, foreign rules, he supposed. But at least the fox’s discrete arrival did not seem to be intended to ambush him considering the creature’s shimmering gaze was focused upon the spirit seed that the fossa had prepared—even taking a step towards the appetizing morsel, and with it, illuminate more of the enigmatic being that had answered his calls. It seemed that instead of dragging his surprised quarry to his homeland, his ritual had amounted to laying out an irresistible bait for the fox to snap up on his own initiative—well, whether he hunted down the spirit or trapped it, it made no difference now that his quarry was within his circle~\n\nExcept... Was this really the grand spirit he had been trying to reach? It was certainly a strange creature, unlike any on the island that Mordero knew of, and definitely bore a superficial resemblance towards the pelt he had thrown in, as well as the illustrations he had seen: Peculiar, orange and white fur besmirched by a set of odd cream-colored stripes, a set of five idly tapping, fluffy tails, and of course those mystically gleaming blue eyes that seemed to try and lure in Mordero’s gaze whenever he caught their fetching glimmer.\n\nBut. while the beast in front of him was larger than any predatory animal native to his home, the illustration had shown the beast to be far larger than the creature skulking about in the shadows in front of him! Could it be that the distance of the summoning meant that the fae had manifested smaller than its true size? Then again, it was also possible that his spell might have grabbed a related entity, rather than the one he was seeking out—the grimoire [i]had[/i] mentioned in passing that this particular entity had a full host of sons to its name, after all.\n\nAlthough... A curious glance between the animal spirit’s hind legs as it circled around the circle’s center revealed a rather well developed sets of balls, as well as a just as considerable pocket for its masculinity. Even if it was just a child of the great beast he was intending to call forth, perhaps this fox would still be able to give him what he desired~\n\n“It would be quite uncouth to pawn off such an appetizing invitation from such an exotic locale off to one of my sons.” The creature spoke, answering Mordero’s unvoiced curiosities with an amused rumble despite its gaze still lingering upon the eldritch ball of energy hovering in front of him.\n\n“It's rude to read someone’s mind without an invitation,” the fossa hissed in reply, squinting at the mystical vulpine trapped within his circle with a less than amused glare.\n\n“Well, what else was I to do while you stood there not saying anything?” The russet-furred beast of shadows chuckled. “Such rude manners, and after I’ve come all this way to answer your summons—even if I did do so more out of my own curiosity... Or were you waiting for me to enjoy the offering you’ve set out before we got down to matters~?”\n\n“Perhaps we should start with you bowing down in servitude to your summon–” Mordero started with his typical boastful taunt, only to be interrupted as the fox finally indulged upon the prize he had been staring at.\n\nThe nebulous creature’s jaws opened wide—framing the glowing orb of mystical green with his fangs—before the foreign animal’s long tongue lolled forth to cup its treat within its silky hold. A second later, and what was meant to form the body of this peculiar spirit’s embodiment had been pried from its invisible pedestal in the ritual’s center, the shadows writhing within the mystical cage reasserting themselves around the fox as the sphere’s light was shrouded by the beast’s maw. Until, with a salacious swallow, only a faint glimmer of green passed through the tenebrous shroud—illuminating only the fox’s tongue and fangs from the start of his throat—before being all but completely quenched with another audible, flaunting gulp!\n\nThe darkness looming with an almost [i]physical[/i] presence behind the circle left just the vulpine’s azure eyes peering out from an inky void, now turned to his overly ambitious summoner. The devoured kernel of energy’s light still glowed, however weakly, from within the vulpine’s body. The glint peeked through the kitsune’s white underbelly fading as it was suffocated within his gullet, almost looking like it was the very darkness itself devouring the light rather than the fae which lurked within it.\n\n“Hiss... Do you know how much power was in that? I’m surprised you’re not as fat as a tree trunk after swallowing it!” Mordero grumped, flexing his fingers in frustration at the vulpine’s gluttony! If he had known the fox would have appeared like he did, he could have used the energy within that spiritual seed as payment for the fae’s services. But now, since he lacked the reagents on hand to make a concoction of that potency again, he’d have to rely upon the sheer force of his will to kowtow or cajole this uppity ‘fox’ into paying out for his meal!\n\n“Don’t get ahead of yourself. It was hardly the most succulent meal I’ve had~” The feral creature retorted with a lavish smack of his lips. His smirk became visible by some trick of the shadows underneath his control, treating the feliformia to the sight of his tongue slurping running across his fangs in further provocation against his supposed summoner.\n\n“Still,” Amor continued, shifting his weight to sprawl languish within the circle intended to hold him prisoner—making sure to dismiss enough of the shadows circling around his body so that the lower bits Mordero’s gaze had investigated earlier were put on full display for his continued perusal. “It was enough of an appetizer for me to hear the earnest, heartfelt [i]request[/i] that brought me all this way~”\n\n“Request?” The African feliformia spat, his bright green eyes glaring at the fey whilst the magic behind them [i]seethed[/i] with annoyance. “You do not know where you are, [i]spirit.[/i] You are in [i]my[/i] trap. You have already [i]indulged[/i] in the payment I offered. There is no request about it, you [i]will[/i] give me what I want! Unless, of course, you wish to spend the rest of eternity caged like some [i]pet [/i]within my home!?”\n\n“Tut, tut. You seem to be quite lacking in both manners [i]and[/i] discipline. Obviously your parents weren’t strict enough with you as a pup.” The multi-tailed beast murmured in indifference to Mordero’s threat.\n\nHis gaze shirked away from the ever more annoyed fossa to examine the circle which was meant to hold him in place. With a smirk of amusement, the fey reached out with one of his forepaws to examine his cage, sliding his dull claws across the barrier that appeared when he drew near—banishing bellowing ribbons of darkness from the paw as it did so.\n\n“Talk all you want, but there’s only one way out, and it's by giving me what I want!” Mordero snarled with an erratic flick of his tail. But, as annoyed as he was, he was also getting [i]excited.[/i] It had been some time before he had to coerce a spirit, or even a man for that matter, to concede to him—and he was always delighted in seeing a competitor’s confidence shatter before his own. [i]Especially[/i] when he got to use the power or resources he had stolen from his rival to use on their source~\n\n“Oh? And just what is it that you wish of me, hmm~?” The fox’s tone was just as dismissive as it was before as he continued to pay more attention to the circle of magic trapping him than its constructor.\n\n“Hmmph. Can you not tell by reading my mind, spirit?” Mordero rolled his eyes in annoyance at the fox’s antics. [i]“I desire your power and virility!”[/i]\n\n“Done~” The fox interrupted before the shaman could continue his tirade with a wide smirk.\n\nMordero was momentarily caught off guard by the sheer audacity of the fox’s interruption, before his glare redoubled at his quarry as he spat back with his own retort. “Pah, that won’t work here. I saw through your tricks, spirit! You won’t entrap me with twisted words or slip through my binds until you give me what I want in full and with no tricks!”\n\n“Have you now~? Well... Why don’t we put that to the test, my new, adorable little plaything~?” The kitsune’s twisted smirk brought a shiver even to the cocky fossa, causing the fossa to briefly doubt the reliability of the ritual he had concocted.\n\nNo, no! The spirit was just trying to get under his fur! To try to undermine his will so as to weaken the spell holding him in place! It was foolproof! He had seen through the fox’s typical tricks, the well concealed errors in the spell-formula to summon him! He had corrected and reinforced them with powers that the foreign fox should be completely unfamiliar with! There was no way the fox could slip free. After all, he had [i]never[/i] failed to summon, bind, and cajole a spirit before, and this latest, most grand of efforts would not be any different!\n\nMordero began to doubt the certainty of his thoughts as the fox stood up, turning his alluring blue eyes to stare at the fossa with the same hungry gaze he had given towards the ball of spiritual power now resting safely within his stomach. His many tails began to dance behind him in a further display of his excitement, whipping the darkness about him like a hand along the surface of the water. Yet Mordero’s eyes couldn’t help but slide lower than those dancing limbs or the fox’s captivating glare, instead focusing upon the masculinity stirring between the feral creature’s hind legs.\n\nMuch like his own anticipation had brought the fossa’s peculiar red meat to slide free from his sheath, so had the vulpine’s. Except the fox’s prick was already glazed in a thick, glossy layer of virile ambrosia dripped from the budding slab of flesh in a clear display of its fecund nature. Every step, and every shift of the quadruped’s body caused the stirring red trunk to shake, casting off droplets of mystically potent cream to land in sizzling beads against the ritual circle caging the sylvan fox. The tool [i]was[/i] an impressive sight, sure, but... Considering the advantage in size he had towering over the dog-sized critter, Mordero was sure he’d still measure up bigger–\n\n“That wasn’t too hard~” The fossa’s eyes went wide as the fox stepped out from the barrer as easily as the fossa could have stepped over a line of dirt. The mystical ward still glowed defiant, a translucent wall of green light acting as a dam against the seething ocean of darkness continuing to pour into the circle’s confines—before even that failed, and the sensory dampening void spilled forth to darken the rest of the room.\n\nWorse, in the brief time it took for the darkness underneath his command to escape its confinement, Mordero was able to spy the beast’s body, and just how much larger the vulpine had grown while stepping over the threshold into his home proper. Those ominous, glinting azure eyes that Mordero had looked down upon before now turned the tables to stare [i]down[/i] at the fossa—despite the fact that the looming [i]monster[/i] of a vulpine, now every inch the figure of legend that the grimoire had stated, still stood on four legs.\n\nA figure of legend that was now uncontained by the measures the shaman had put in place to protect himself, and likely to have taken at least a modicum of offence at the fossa’s attempt to coerce him into subservience.\n\nMordero couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment, shirking away with a step back to try and keep his distance from the stalking beast, only partially visible thanks to what little moonlight bled through the door of his home and the burning blue light radiating from its own eyes. But after that single step of reflexive panic he steeled himself against the threat before him, calling upon the myriad of gifts he had extorted from the various spirits around him over the years to try and force the vulpine into submission!\n\nAlas, the fossa’s momentary pause was more than enough for the giant russet-furred monster’s longer gait to bring him within reach of his attempted captor, sending him spiraling toward the floor with a single slap from one of his mighty forepaws—the strike looking more like an inky wave of darkness upon darkness even after the foot had collided with his side.\n\n“Fuck.” Mordero grunted while his vision spun from the sudden swipe, before scurrying onto his back to try and adopt a more defensive posture as soon as his senses returned. Not that it did much good when the foot responsible for his prostrate position pinned him against the ground. Amor made sure to keep his quarry in place by leaning but a fraction of his weight against the spirit binder’s chest, pressing the air out from his chest with a pathetic wheeze and scattering the defiant green glow within the shaman’s eyes with his breath.\n\nEven standing on top of him, most of the feral monsters remained notoriously difficult to see, the faint silhouette still so easy to lose in the circling, cascading shadows drawing closer around them despite the fox’s size. All save for the giant kitsune’s glowering, predatory gaze looming just above him—illuminated by the luminous blue glint along with his salivating fangs.\n\nFear welled within the fossa’s mind as he lay there. But it wasn’t his own terror which crept up along his spine—the shaman himself still clinging to his delusions that he could reverse the situation—it was the panic of the various spirits he had under his control instinctively [i]cowering[/i] in the face of a spiritual predator more than capable of rendering them down into fodder for his metaphysical appetite.\n\nWith the shaman that they were bound to now helplessly trapped beneath the source of their fear’s paw, it was only to be expected that they would begin to abandon him—forsaking the debts he had cajoled them into in order to protect themselves! The votsoda spirit that had tried to steal sips from his ritual brew was the first to run, fleeing through the door of his hut with a myriad of bird, mammal, and reptilian totems following on its heels—taking with them the useful gifts they had imparted upon Mordero with them.\n\n“Mmm. Looks like your friends on the other side didn’t turn out to be that loyal,” Amor mused with a low, rumbling growl against the fossa’s ears powerful enough to vibrate the tips of his quarry’s fur.\n\n“T-Traitors.” Mordero hissed again with what meager breath he could still draw in spite of the foot pressing down against his chest. Yet, even in the poor position he was, he continued to struggle. His hands shoved against the dire-kitsune’s legs and chest in an attempt to pry the feral fae off of him, strengthening his limbs with the only spirit that had not yet abandoned him as he did so. It was the first of the spiritual friends he had ever bound, a fossa spirit—the king of predators on his island home—and his most loyal ‘friend’.\n\nOnly for even that most time honored bond of allegiance to be severed when the fossa was slammed back onto the thatch floor by the fox hard enough for stars to once more cross over his vision. The shaman laid limp, blinking in an attempt to clear his gaze while the translucent green body of the feral fossa spirit fled from his body, leaving him that much weaker and unable to resist whatever intentions the giant vulpine had in mind for him.\n\nBut, at least [i]this[/i] most stinging of betrayals was rewarded as it should when the fox’s jaws caught the spirit before it could scamper out of reach.\n\n“Wait,” Mordero coughed, his thoughts twisting between anger at the spirit’s most heinous betrayal and concern for his old comrade---after all, he couldn’t blame the spirit for abandoning him in this situation. He’d no doubt have done the same if their positions were reversed.\n\nTo his surprise, the fox’s mystical fangs didn’t tear into the hapless spirit beast held between them. Instead, they held themselves in place, seemingly frozen against the spirit with just enough pressure to dimple the fuzzy-green surface of the spirit’s metaphysical neck despite how it squirmed and writhed within the much larger fox’s jaws.\n\nBut Mordero could tell that the fox’s pause was not given out of kindness. He recognized the malicious glint within the beast’s blue eyes, and how they stared down past the fox’s morsel towards his captive audience trapped against the floor. He knew it well. It was a glance he had given many unfortunate victims left in his wake. A glance to flaunt one’s victory, to torment their rival with their powerlessness to change what was about to happen, and thus he knew better than anyone that the mercy he could only hope for wouldn’t come.\n\nStill... The fossa had more important things to worry about than the fate of his longest spirit-friend, like the massive [i]slab[/i] of vulpine fuck meat that was resting against him while the beast settled in for his show! The kitsune’s shadows had retreated enough for Mordero to make out the details of the glistening crimson spire and whenever he glanced down, standing out vividly amongst the inky swatch that was the rest of the kitsune’s lower body.\n\nHe couldn’t escape the weight and warmth of that spire no matter how he squirmed underneath the foot pads pressing him against his reed mat floor, leaving him no recourse but to try to do his best to not acknowledge its imposing presence. But even that was a challenge—its sheer size made it impossible not to notice every time it twitched against his own bare crotch! The vulpine rod stirring to ever greater heights as it pulsed further across the fossa’s own budding studhood, soaking his abdomen with the vulpine’s ever drooling virility.\n\nWorse, his own masculinity was proving to be just as much of a traitor as his spiritual allies, throbbing to full attention against the swelling column trapping it against his abdomen. By coincidence or the fox’s design, his loins lay against Mordero’s at just the right distance to allow the fossa’s shameful glances to compare their lengths against one another—allowing him to watch as his peculiar length seemed to try to out race the swelling column trapping it against his abdomen, despite the fact that its futile exuberance would clearly be outdone in the end by the sheer size of the masculine behemoth against him!\n\nOr at least, the fossa hoped the reason his arousal was proving so stubborn despite his squirming protests was from his competitive spirit, or even just the sensual rubs of warm, slick, wet ‘sune cock against his own sensitive spire, and not the suspiciously enticing scent of virility clawing its way deeper into his nostrils with every breath he took. Although the fact that his shaft grew in excitement even as it became ever clearer how outmatched he was should have been more than enough to determine which source was most likely. Especially as his cheeks and ears flushed with the warmth brewing within his body as the kitsune’s pheromones began to take effect, pushing his knots free from his sheath one after the other—shortly thereafter followed by his eager, throbbing shaft’s point finally falling behind the fox’s looming arousal now dripping past his navel.\n\nThere was no way that this fey was potent enough to already undermine his will so soon... Could he?\n\nUnfortunately, the only place he had to turn his attention towards to distract himself from the teasing roll of the kitsune’s pre-lathered dick meat across his own twitching nethers was the demise of his spiritually ally. The dire fox was making a game of it, letting the protesting spirit dangle from his fangs whilst his tongue lolled across the fossa spirit’s mystical essence. Perhaps, Mordero thought, that the kitsune was dallying in order to hear his pleas for the avatar to be spared. But, unfortunately for it, his ego had not yet been bruised enough to let such humiliating pleas slip from his lips even at the cost of his servant...\n\nEspecially since Mordero knew such verbal prostrations only encouraged [i]him[/i] to devour whatever appetizing morsels he had gotten his hands on, and he highly doubted the fox would be any different.\n\nAll he could do was watch as the dire fox brought his show to its next act with a fearful gulp. The vulpine’s long, saliva-speckled tongue curled around the ethereal animal’s nape, wrapping around the entity’s neck like a metaphorical noose. With a snap of his jaws upwards, the spirit was condemned to its fate, pulled into the cavernous maw the large muscle lolled forth from by its yank and the pull of gravity. The ghostly animal’s head slid inexorably along the twitching, slippery, velvet carpet that was the back of the kitsune’s tongue, shepherding the entity towards its oblivion as the bust of the beast disappeared from view—leaving its long, lithe body to follow soon after.\n\nMordero froze, his eyes fixated upon the carnal scene being put on for him, memorizing every last detail as the spirit’s hind paws and tail—hanging past the sylvan fox’s chin—thrashed uselessly against the air. The remaining glimmer of power lingering within the shaman’s green eyes began to fade as the spirit slid deeper down the vulpine’s gullet. The descent of the vulpine’s morsel was once again highlighted by the fading green glow through the white fur on his throat, as well as the less than subtle bulge made by the totem’s ethereal body stretching and protesting uselessly against the humid cavern dragging it deeper to its demise with every shoving, constricting flex.\n\nAll the while, the now powerless spirit-binder could [i]feel[/i] the vulpine’s predatory excitement pulse through his prick. Each twitch of the thick, heavy column smothering his belly and exotic shaft in another wad of pheromone-wafting pre, making each of the fossa’s breaths thereafter further spread the peculiar, needy warmth spreading throughout his body. His own, multi-knotted prick—once the largest shaft that the feliformia had ever known and now a distant second place—reciprocated against the kitsune’s twitches with its own, seemingly vicarious throbs of desire while being used as a mat.\n\nThe spirit disappeared from sight at last with one last gulp from the fox—its hind paws and tail sliding past the vulpine’s fangs with a satisfied smack of the large kitsune’s lips. Mordero’s dull-eyed vision watched the glowing bulge of the spirit’s body slip down the vulpine’s throat. The only thing left of the spirit now was the sleight curve it left in the beast’s belly, hanging with the ethereal ‘weight’ of the ghost, and the faint, green glow that faded in strength along with the combat spirit’s weakening struggles~\n\n“A delightful appetizer... But now it's time for the main course~” Amor spoke with a satisfied sigh before his hypnotizing gaze returned to the fossa trapped beneath his paw. The feral fey leaned down, lapping his tongue that had shepherded the animal spirit to its now along the fear-and-arousal stained fur and skin of the fossa’s neck, mixing in those new flavors with the lingering aftertaste of the totem tingling across his palette.\n\n“Do you know how much of a hassle it's going to be to bind another one of those!? You’ve taken more than enough to pay for the power I demand, already, so hand it over and get lost!!” Mordero hissed, the self-assured confidence he typically put behind every word floundering in the face of the vulpine’s overwhelming superiority. Not that his protest would have come across any better even if his ego had not started to crack thanks to the almost bashful blush burning on his cheeks—nor how his eyes struggled to look at anything that wasn’t either the feral’s fat cock making a mess of his fur with its constant fecund pulses or the vulpine’s eyes which threatened to steal away his floundering mind at any moment.\n\n“Oh, but you’ve not yet received the boon you asked for, and we fey are quite the sticklers for following through upon our agreements.” The brutish vulpine retorted with a teasing snarl. His hips highlighted just what he intended to ‘honor’ with another rolling grind, sliding his column of convulsing virile meat across the fossa’s engorged exotic and barbed prick—and bringing the tapered point of that behemoth closer towards the island predator’s unplundered rump.\n\nMordero tried to desperately think of a way to escape the position he was in even as his flushed cheeks burned brighter the closer the vulpine drew to lining his log of virility up to his tight, virgin entrance. His panicked green eyes glanced throughout his hut, quickly seizing upon, then swiftly dismissing, one idea after another—nothing he could think of would do more than encourage the fox with a futile struggle, considering how ineffectual his spiritual ally’s proved to be in the face of the pernicious fae, and how much weaker he had become with their abandonment.\n\nFortunately, an opportunity presented itself a second later as the fox—perhaps taking his silent, frenzied contemplation as submission—removed the paw pinning the fossa in place so that he could bring its head between the male’s thighs, [i]smothering[/i] the shaman’s plump balls in a lurid sputter of mystical vulpine pre as he did so.\n\nThe felinesque shaman sprung forward, twisting and bolting onto his hands and feet in a mad scramble to reach the door to his home before the fox could stop him! Did he have any hope of truly escaping the monstrous fey out in the jungles? No, not really—although he might have a fighting chance in the thick trees his kin had evolved for against the large feral’s loping gait—but the fox wasn’t here [i]naturally[/i]. Even if his summoning methods didn’t go quite to plan, they were no doubt the anchor the fox used to appear here. So, if he got far enough away, there was a chance that the kitsune wouldn’t be able to pursue—he’d only have to wait until the fox got bored at that point and left to find his entertainment back home!\n\nHe didn’t even get as far as the exit to the wilds right outside his hut before the firm, heavy paw of the fey caught him by his shoulders and pinned him down against the straw-mat floor once more. Except this time his face was pressed against the ground by the weight of the fox on top of him, trapping his ass in an awkward, lifted posture thanks to where he was caught in his desperate scrambles—leaving his winking pucker on full display, while his traitorous, twitching prick and anxiously flexing balls beneath his ring sputtered out a streak of shameful arousal onto the floor.\n\n“Going somewhere?” Amor growled. His snout was close enough to the fossa’s ear that the vibration from his words tickled over the feliformia’s pelt, his whiskers brushing against the back of the shaman’s neck.\n\nHe fought back as best he could, trying to push against the paw holding him in place, or at least to wiggle his ass into a less displayed position. But the fox’s pin was implacable, anchoring him in place with his weight pressed just beneath the nape of the fossa’s neck. Likewise, his attempts to at least stop his ass from presenting a prime breeding stance to his conqueror was halted with by a pair of the vulpine’s surprisingly strong and dextrous tails coiling around his thighs, holding his legs fast in place, and thus his ass left precariously raised to greet the vulpine’s throbbing masculinity.\n\nMordero gulped. His continuing struggles against his inevitable fate succeeded only in tiring his body with his ever more desperate exertions—growing more pathetic and futile the closer the kitsune’s pre-drooling start drew to the cleft beneath his tail. A cold shiver raced up along the fossa’s spine when he felt the monster nudge in place, slipping between his cheeks to tease the steepled point against his entrance. Amor’s hips pressed forward with just enough to tease the ring, dimpling it beneath the weight of the tool it was expected to service. The warm, trickling flow of addictive sylvan essence continued to bubble forth from the living fountainhead, pooling within the small space stretched open by the sampling stretch from the shaft’s shallow touch, before overflowing around the bountiful member to trickle down over the fossa’s spunk-matted taint and balls... Or seep deeper into the summoner’s belly, bringing with it a peculiar, tingling warmth deep within the male’s abdomen.\n\n“W- Wait!” The shaman [i]squeaked[/i]. Whatever was left of conviction and confidence deflated from his chest along with his beg, shattered just from the teasing kiss of that member to his quivering tail star. All for nought, of course, as the sylvan fox’s hips rolled forward and sunk the wedged start of his tool past the fossa’s taunt pucker regardless~ \n\nMordero’s eyes went wide while his ring burned with the ache of being stretched for the first time in his life. His fingers and toes raked their claws against the floor, scrunching the tied straw lining within his clenched grip. His tail star squeezed tight, desperately trying to force out the column of meat grinding in with a power far beyond mortal means, which only served to make his body all the tighter for the fox’s clear enjoyment—every idle grunt or satisfied rumble being another mark of failure as the fox used [i]him[/i] for his pleasure! \n\nYet, throughout it all, the shaman’s cock stubbornly throbbed—[i]flexing[/i] in the air with renewed excitement for every inch that was pressed into him! Both of his knots swelled to full prominence while his flared head dripped with his own pre, the off-clear dew of arousal shaken loose in small strings of shameful arousal whenever his considerable masculinity was sent wagging by the tempo of the vulpine’s feral vigor—painting the floor of his home with his utter humiliation.\n\n“Mmm... You’ve felt nothing yet, my pet. I’m only getting started~” Amor growled against the back of his plaything’s head.\n\nThe words barely registered in the distracted fossa’s mind before the beastly fox’s hips dragged back—nearly pulling his fat point from the quivering, spunk-slick male’s ring—before [i]slamming [/i]forward with seemingly every ounce of strength those powerful legs could muster! Mordero’s breath was knocked from his chest with a pathetic gasp. Every muscle, from his splayed toes to his gritted teeth, [i]clenched[/i] as the fat slab of vulpine cock rammed into him with an eye watering, searing ache as his conquered ring was wrapped and worn around the main girth of the vulpine’s length rather than just its tapered point—a seemingly [i]impossible[/i] amount of cock now wearing him like a [i]sleeve.[/i]\n\nBut, in equal measure to the discomfort that came from the vulpine’s despoiling pillage of his body came a euphoric shudder of bliss as the hole-stuffing feral dick ground across his sensitive prostate—[i]rewarding[/i] Mordero for his conquest with a quivering rush of pleasure! His prick quivered, teetering on the brink of a climax that took all of the shaman’s remaining willpower to not surrender to, barely sparing himself that further humiliation as the aftershocks from the novel stimulation faded. \n\n“F- Fuck!” Mordero hissed, clenching his faded green eyes shut as the vulpine pulled back for the next rutting press, sending with it another flurry of delectable shivers racing through his core. At least for the following bucks he knew what he needed to brace himself for, biting his lip as the vulpine’s pistoning shaft once again pinned his poor prostate against his walls again. The thick, turgid column may have stopped at his erogenous button for its first few proper thrusts, but after the beast was done teasing, the fox’s pre-slickened prick advanced with into his depths—compelled forward by the fae’s frenzied tempo that made clear he would not be satisfied with just a shallow, or even half-finished victory, leaving the fossa’s eyeing the monster’s tri-lobed knot slowly rolling closer and closer to his stretched-pink ring with growing anxiety.\n\nHe could imagine how pathetic he looked, pinned beneath the eager sylvan fox with his ass still raised despite his pathetic squirms by the fox’s constricting tails, as well as the slab of glistening dickmeat grinding in and out of his stretched pucker—wedged deep enough into his body to keep its sleeve aloft even as the strength in his leg’s floundered. His grunts of displeasure grew weaker, the emotion being them becoming more and more forced, if not entirely fabricated, while in contrast his stifled moans of pleasure grew more strident and even... comfortable. While, most embarrassing of all, his hefty fossahood throbbed with each prostate smashing advance, sending the exotic tool tapping against the bulge the creature’s cock made within his belly as it advanced and painting his midsection in fresh strings of arousal.\n\n“There’s no use trying to pretend you’re not enjoying this~” The fox murmured again, growling hotly against an ear before emphasizing his point with another mew-forcing slam into his quarry’s ass.\n\n“There’s no one here but us, and I can [i]feel[/i] how much you’re liking this.” Amor continued with a fur-vibrating rumble. His snout tilted lower, enticing the fossa further into submission with a doting flick of the tongue which had shepherded his spiritual friend to its demise across the feliformia’s vivid red blush. “No one but us to see how shamefully aroused you are from being made my bitch. So you might as well just [i]relax[/i] and enjoy yourself~”\n\n“S- Screw you, you– you damn fox—” Mordero replied with a seething hiss.\n\nBut, it seemed his attempt at defiance only played further into the vulpine’s pernicious wiles as the beast’s nuzzling snout darted down across his flushed cheeks, before interrupting the shaman’s words with a commanding shove of his silky tongue into Mordero’s maw open maw!\n\nWhatever crumbled visage of confidence the feliformia had cobbled back together collapsed once more underneath the weight of the large, velvety tongue rolling across his palate and the back of his maw in one motion—drawing a surprised whimper from the pinned male, as well as a differential flick of his ears against the scalp. Even his glare softened into a surprised, and even half-adoring, glance—allowing the first hints of shimmering blue to take root in the corner of his eyes as the vulpine’s influence found fertile ground at last to take root.\n\nMordero’s mind raced. What was happening to him!? He couldn’t really be enjoying this so much, could he..? He surprised himself further as his own long tongue began to sluggishly dance with the fox’s, seemingly on its own accord—no matter how much he mentally yelled at himself to get a grip on his own emotions and needs. Yet, he couldn’t help but enjoy each electric brush of the muscles against one another, even going so far as to twist his snout to lock his lips against the feral’s snout.\n\nIt had to be [i]something[/i] about the fox... Was it his touch..? His scent..? Perhaps all the vivid warm, tantalizing pre pooling within his body and lathering his walls for each squelch-ringing buck forward..? This pleasure, this [i]desire[/i] to submit couldn’t possibly have arisen from himself, afterall! It [i]must[/i] have been some, some trick, some beguiling influence forcing it upon him!\n\nYet, regardless of its source, it was no less captivating to indulge, guiding the fossa’s expression to relax into a look of blissful euphoria with every delectable tryst of their tongues, and every nerve wracking slam of his dick underneath his tail. The long limb rose to ensure his... mystical lover... had full and unfettered access to his entrance, while it slowly wrapped around the large feral’s midsection to return some small fraction of the pleasure he was receiving to the beast with an embracing squeeze. His gaze, meanwhile, fell into the gravity of the kitsune’s enthralling azure hues, locking his sight to his as the faint glimmer of sapphire light seeded within his eyes began to shimmer across the entirety of his gaze—mirroring the fae’s as he became completely captivation to their splendor.\n\nWould it [i]really[/i] be so bad to just... submit just this once and enjoy himself~? Could he even pretend that he wasn’t desperate to feel the excitement coiling within his loins finally find release underneath the guidance of the shaft relentlessly plowing into his ass? Could he deny his growing desire to be tucked close against the shadowy kitsune as their union was sealed by a fat, tri-lobed knot? The bargain he had sought by summoning the fox was all but forgotten, cast aside as he leaned into the pleasure the vulpine was showing him—bracing back into every swing of the vulpine’s mating hips with one hand, whilst the other reached up to cusp his adoring sylvan befectator’s muzzle with the other, while his open, unabashed moans joined the growls vibrating between their tongues.\n\nOnly for the fossa to once more be denied when Amor’s lips pulled free from his. His snout hovered just a few inches shy of his, close enough that a small bridge of saliva clung between them before the beast’s hungry pants snapped the string in twain. Mordero’s tongue chased after the fox’s retreating maw, trying to lure him back into their sultry waltz.\n\nA pathetic, whimpering mewl of desire followed suit, slipping from his agape maw, whilst the cat’s adoring, half-vacant gaze stared up with a hint of betrayal and loss from the tongue’s removal.\n\n“That’s a better look for you, my little summoner~ See how much better it is to let all those airs you put on just slip away~? How [i]good[/i] it is to be honest with what you need, at least when it comes to your [i]owner[/i]~?” The fox teased, prickling at the fossa’s subdued psyche with the emphasis he placed on the last word.\n\nBut, whilst the teases might have drawn a euphoric-tainted growl or frown from Mordero’s lips, it didn’t halt the clear look of enjoyment stretched across the defeated shaman’s pleasure-wracked face—nor the azure hold obscuring Mordero’s green eyes behind the glimmering blue veneer. They also didn’t last long, his half-hearted efforts at refusal at the vulpine’s obvious truths were quickly washed away with a lurid clap against his wide-stretched ass as his monstrous conqueror’s knot crashed against his overstuffed ring—sending a far more desperate and unsavory moan echoing forth from the beguiled shaman’s throat!\n\n“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head~ I’ll make it more than just an idle tease~” The fox’s sordid growls rolled out again, making the fossa’s hackles rise as the umbral kitsune’s rumbling lips nuzzled against the nape of his neck.\n\nAt the same time, the fox’s hips changed their stance—no longer thrusting in with mindless self pleasure in mind, hammering the feliformia’s prostate to sent rippling shudders of euphoria convulsing through his being and visibly distending his abdomen around the sheer size of the shaft he was expected to pleasure. Instead, the baleful beast was starting to focus on rolling the last half of his prick in and out of the fossa’s spunk-overflowing hole, clapping his knot against the abused ring again, and again, all but pronouncing his intentions with every wet smack of the glands against their soon-to-be holster.\n\n“I will make... you... mine~!” The fox [i]snarled[/i] with the weight of his conviction behind his promise. His lips parted, pulling back behind his deadly, spirit-ripping fangs—exposing the spit-glistening ivories within the corner of the fossa’s vision.\n\nMordero had barely a moment to brace for what was coming before the points of the deadly teeth tickled gingerly against the back of his neck! The subdued and lust-addled shaman clenched every muscle within his body, tensing in preparation for the mating bite that was to come. But he couldn’t prepare for how the mystical beast’s bite cleaved into his being, pushing past fur to puncture not just his skin, but his very soul.\n\nThe sharp pain of the vulpine’s fangs tearing across nerves contrasted sharply with the wellspring of euphoric bliss that erupted from the deepest core of his being as the kitsune’s ‘kiss’ sampled his spirit. The darkness of his hut seemed to deepen as the fox’s jaws tightened their hold upon his neck, leaving only the bright sapphire glow of Amor’s eyes—just enough light to partially illuminate the soul-cleaving jaws around his neck, and how intently the monster’s gaze bore down upon him, seemingly looking straight past Mordero’s broken, entranced, and pleasure-wracked expression to stare into the very spirit he was feasting upon.\n\nMordero’s eyes opened wide, his maw following suit as an incomprehensible mixture of syllables spilled forth with an ecstatic moan—keeping whatever desperate beg to be claimed his bliss-consumed psyche tried to utter from being understood. But, where his words failed him, his body was more than willing to give voice to his needs. His legs worked in concert with the tails coiled around the limbs, lifting his abused rear into the next demanding buck from his spiritual conqueror’s hips! His claws, meanwhile, tore into the reed mat of his home, digging into the ground beneath to properly brace for what he knew—what he [i]prayed for[/i]—came next!\n\n[i]SLAM![/i]\n\nAnother yelp of abject euphoria rolled from bite-trapped fossa to join the wet squelching ‘plop’ of the kitsune’s pre-slickened knot cramming itself underneath his tail! The shaman’s brown-furred cheeks pressed against the fox’s white crotch, the spirit binder’s body all but hanging from the dire beast’s hips as every last inch of the abdomen bulging shaft [i]twitched[/i] within him. His own tool mirrored every jumping jolt racing through the buried prick thanks to the tool’s drumming pulsing against his prostate—leaving the tamed shaman hanging on the edge of his release with quivering trepidation. His blue-beguiled eyes stared back into the gleaming blue stars of the kitsune’s eyes set amidst the obfuscating darkness of his home, wordlessly, breathlessly, [i]begging[/i] for his Master’s seed.\n\nFortunately for the shaman-turned-pet, fey were sticklers for the pacts they had struck, even the one-sided ones like the vulpine had imposed upon him. The trio of glands sunken past his ring [i]throbbed[/i], sending the fossa’s eyes rolling further into the back of his head as every nerve wrapped around the vulpine’s prick screamed in ecstasy in tandem with the shaft’s jolts! Any give his feral owner’s shaft had in its flesh gave way with every tying-swell, wedged within him at its turgid peak—its sheer size ensuring every shudder rolling through the tool was reflected in the impression it on his body, and the reflexive squirm and whimper those twitches made the fox’s prize.\n\nThe fox’s fat, heavy spheres—resting against his own smaller pair and radiating a cozy warmth against the suffocating tenebra pressing in against them—[i]flexed.[/i] Seething hot, virile vulpine seed [i]poured[/i] into Mordero’s belly, crashing against his walls with a tumbling torrent of pure bliss! His head, meanwhile, craned back as far as the fanged grip on his neck scruff would allow, recklessly casting his moans into the night air without any regard for being heard by any rogue passersby to his remote hut.\n\nThe fossa’s prick pulsed in concert with the shaft buried deep within his rump. His knots flared as his shaft flexed at full prominence with the first warmth-spreading deluge coursing into his belly. Before, with the second bucket-worth of addictive ambrosia pouring into his midsection—sparking a rippling wave of fur in the wake of the subtle bulge of trapped seed it left behind—his own arousal finally boiled over. His balls clenched in a new, lurid tango with the larger spheres resting against them, sending his seed splattering onto the now exposed first between his knees—every rope haphazardly casted onto the ground joined by his euphoric whimpers and the steady background rumble of his mystical patron’s growls... As well as the twitch-inducing bloat of his seed-swollen belly pressing further against his free-firing shaft.\n\nMordero’s climax lasted far longer than the already quite potent fossa was used to—his convulsing, seed sputtering prick managing to keep up with every throbbing discharge from the kitsune’s, even if they couldn’t match his prodigious output. At first, the few buzzing neurons still capable of stringing together a thought within the fossa’s skull thought it might have just been due to the constant throb of the vulpine’s knot against his prostate, effectively milking him dry with the continued assault to his pleasure button.\n\nThat was, until, he noticed that far from receding, every rope of jizz surging forth from his exotic dick was [i]larger[/i] than the last! His suspicions only grew as he discovered a unique pleasure brewing within his loins beyond the rush of euphoria that came from his release and the cock grinding itself into his seed-inundated belly, as every cum shot poured into him left his fat fossa balls swelling heavier than before... While every wasted streak erupting through his own in answer left the already considerable shaft larger than it had been before, laying against his increasingly gravid belly with its own growing weight.\n\n“I’m a fox of my word~” The dire feral growled, releasing his hold upon his partner’s scruff as his, and by extension Mordero’s, climax rolled to a slow, gradual stop—long after the plentiful cream flooding the fossa’s belly had overflowed past the knot ostensibly responsible for trapping the fluid in place, making a further mess of the shaman’s home as their seed mixed into a lurid pool upon the floor after its trickling journey along their nuts, down along his thighs, or most sordidly of all, flowing across the gravid belly the virile essence had escaped from.\n\nMordero blinked as he contemplated the kitsune’s words as the euphoria of their release faded into a pleasant afterglow, returning some of the cat-like mammal’s faculties with its retreating tide. The extra heft and simmering virility he felt from his loins was a pleasant distraction for the uppity shaman as his senses returned, helping him to ignore the fact that he was still tied in a rather humiliating position beneath the beastly, tenebrous fae, or from recalling the rather... shameful... acts he got up to beneath the fox’s hedonistic influence.\n\nThe vivid azure glow within his eyes started to recede to a more subdued speckle in the corner of his vision—its retreat mirrored by the looming, oppressive darkness that had blotted out the world around them, allowing the soft light of the moon and starts outside to creep back into his home through the door and various shutters his spirits had left open during their retreat.to allow the soft light of the moon and stars outside to creep back into his home.\n\nHe could [i]feel[/i] the fox’s power within him, somewhat similar to how he felt his former allies’ help whenever he had manifested their gifts—as if he couldn’t see that the kitsune had honored at least [i]some[/i] of the intent behind the words he seized upon by the large mess his tool had made, nor the extra luggage his crotch now carted around. A fact that Mordero still relished despite the nascent dread looming in the back of his mind—rejoicing in the extra heft draped over his swollen belly and the extra warmth stoked within his heavier spheres.\n\nBut, unlike the typical spiritual might he felt take root within his body by the various pacts he forged in his occupation, this aid was not delivered on his terms. He could only begin to imagine the cost that the five-tailed fox might have imposed upon him for the boon he had sought—being given utter free reign after overpowering him and twisting his mind and spirit into rapturous acceptance of every desire the vulpine had for him. \n\nHe already had a good guess as to one of the costs for his one-sided gift. Mordero had known since the first touch of the kitsune’s seed within his body that it had taken, a fact that in his blissful stupor had only made his humiliating joy for serving the vulpine all the stronger right before his own climax caught up. But that was hardly unexpected, he [i]had[/i] expressly summoned a creature of [i]virility[/i] to receive that very boon, after all! \n\nBut the vulpine’s claim went deeper even than the boys that were now growing within the fossa’s belly. With a bashful shiver, the tied feliformia shifted his weight onto one elbow so he could reach back to where the kitsune had dug his fangs into his soul. He could feel on an instinctual level that that he was [i]claimed,[/i] the kitsune’s ownership etched into very spirit. In a way, it almost felt like how Mordero would brand the totems underneath his control—and, he imagined, would be just as overt to those whose eyes peered into the veil between realities, or by the very creatures he tried to call upon.\n\nIt was yet more weight pressing down upon the fossa’s recuperating psyche as he slowly processed what had just happened, keeping his ears flicked against his scalp and an embarrassed flush across his cheeks. He was going to be [i]mothering[/i] the fox’s kits! He had all but [i]begged[/i] to do so! And, even now, after the vulpine had released the oppressive authority it wrought over his mind, recalling those sordid details still made his spent shaft [i]twitch[/i] with excitement!\n\nHis contemplation was interrupted by the vulpine suitor rolling over, shifting Mordero from his erratic pinned stance on the floor by the tug of his fat knot upon his pucker, and instead settled the shaman against the fox’s chest as he laid within the beast’s... lap?\n\nAmor was no longer on all fours, but instead had transformed into an anthropomorphic visage to better nestle in with his new lover—although when and how the fox had done so the shaman couldn’t say. It was like the fox had been a studly feral one second, then a handsome and charming male the next!\n\nAlthough Mordero wasn’t certain if he liked the kitsune’s current form any better than the last... Him being pinned beneath a virile stud beast gave him at least an excuse, or at least a bit of cognitive separation, to how he had found himself in his current predicament—being made some mysterious, enigmatic, and alluring creature’s bitch didn’t feel quite as shameful as being lovingly doted upon a ruggedly attractive foreigner. Now, though, with the vulpine’s broad shoulders to lean back against, and powerful arms wrapping around the new mother to comfort him during their post-coital bliss? That was gone, causing the shaman to glance aside from his suitor with his cheeks and ears burning red once more.\n\n[i]Especially[/i] as Amor helped to draw his attention to one of the more... [i]overt[/i] ways the vulpine had claimed the fossa as one of his playthings. The kitsune’s fingers brushed along the crown of his seed-heavy abdomen, tracing along where his silky brown fur had darkened into a jet black hue. It only took one furtive glance for Mordero to recognize the brand from the grimoire he had summoned the vulpine from, the fox-headed mark flanked by a set of five tails matching the being responsible for placing it there—announcing to all who saw it just who the father of the mystical litter growing within his belly was.\n\nStill though, he had to admit, it felt... nice... being cradled in the kitsune’s arms and many tails. He even felt safe, in a way. The fear and terror he had felt once the vulpine had stripped him bare of his power and defenses replaced by a sense of contentment, knowing that those same deadly fangs and wiles were now a bastion protecting him thanks to the creature’s children taking form within him. Even how the fox’s hand continued to brush over his swollen belly as if it was comforting their nascent litter sparked a sense of... delight... in the capricious shaman that he didn’t quite know how to express.\n\nNot that he would admit to any of that to the fox, of course, and if anyone else dared even [i]whisper[/i] that he had such sentiments, he would feed them to his patron [i]himself![/i]\n\n“S- So... Just what sort of ‘creative liberties’ have you taken with this... ‘blessing’ you’ve given me?” Mordero grumbled with a small purr a moment later, glancing half at the gravid belly his cuddling patron was admiring, and half at his hefty fossahood only just now starting to slip back into its sheath. If there was any consolation to this affair, it was going to be putting that monstrous endowment to good use before the litter growing in his belly got in the way.\n\n“Oh, nothing [i]too[/i] outlandish~” The fox teased with his own rumble of contentment. His snout pressed against Mordero’s cheek, deepening the blush beneath its adoring touch, while the hand not busy rubbing across his cum-filled dome reached past to give the tribal shaman’s balls a teasing squeeze. “Anything you sire with the enhanced virility I’ve gifted you will be [i]mostly[/i] yours, don’t worry~”\n\n“Hmph. [i]Mostly?[/i]” The fossa hissed with contempt. He doubted the fox’s definition of mercy and his own were at all similar, as would be their concept of ‘mostly’ unchanged.\n\nAlthough... Considering their similar sentiments, perhaps that wasn’t quite true after all—making him worry even more about the toll the vulpine had extracted in exchange for his favor.\n\n“Well, there may be a little bit of ‘me’ here and there. But don’t worry, they'll be almost entirely yours... Just think of it as a little ‘tax’ for all the extra kittens you’ll sire~”\n\nMordero rolled his eyes in reply. He didn’t know if the fox’s words meant that there might be some of the kitsune’s ‘foxy features’ showing up in the fossas he sired, or if there was a chance that one in a litter might look like the fox had fathered them instead of himself—or even some combination of both—but he’d no doubt have to wait until getting to put his enhanced equipment to work to discover that answer for himself. Trying to get the answer from Amor was just going to give the vulpine more opportunities to torment his bruised ego further.\n\nInstead, he decided to give up on trying to argue with the fox and instead just... relaxed in his owner’s grasp, as if hoping to hide from the consequences of the kitsune’s conquest—and by extension, the outside world—by nestling into the sylvan creature’s arms and many ensnaring tails.\n\n“And our... These ones..?” The fossa’s gaze briefly turned towards his branded belly, still stuffed with the fox’s considerable girth and plentiful release, and more importantly, the nascent litter the fox had taken as his price that Mordero couldn’t quite yet call [i]his[/i] children.\n\n“Our kids' parentage will be unmistakable~” The fox rumbled hotly, showing no hesitation at all in acknowledging the mystical scions he had planted within the other male. In fact, if the possessive squeeze he gave to his tied plaything—and the sultry growl of desire rolling from his lips alongside the firm twitch from his tied shaft—was anything to go by, it was likely a point of pride, or at least joy. “Perhaps a bit more like me than their mother, but plenty enough for you to see yourself in our little hell raisers~ I expect you to take good care of them... As well as the following litters I give you~” \n\n“The next ones!? How do you expect me to go about my days if you treat me like your brood bitch!?” A touch of Mordero’s typical feistiness returned with a grumpy hiss.\n\n“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of time to have your fun~ I just might drop by from time to time... check in on our kids... teach them a few tricks... Answer their pleading begs for some younger brothers to help cause mischief with~ Everything a loving fae lord dad should~”\n\nAny further complaints from the uppity fossa were preemptively ameliorated with a doting smooch on his forehead, disarming him enough for the kitsune’s to follow by wrapping his fingers around the huffy spirit binder’s chin to pull their lips together once more. This kiss was much easier to refuse than the last, but still Mordero leaned into it, once again feeling his long, barbed muscle dance against the broader, silky carpet.\n\nAlthough, perhaps that was a mistake, as it allowed the kitsune’s digits to sweep down from his jaw to brush fondly over the discolored fur marking where the fox’s bite had dug into his soul—before obscuring the second mark of claim by conjuring forth a leather band around the fossa’s neck. The weight of the symbol of claim resting against his neck made Mordero’s heart [i]leap[/i] within his chest. His body tensed—inadvertently squeezing his rump tight around his Master’s knot—as his first reflex was to protest and fight to free himself of that final humiliating accessory.\n\nBut, as one of his arms reached up to brush along the magic adornment, brushing his fingers over the strap which pulsed with the flowing green pattern of his spirit—save for the flickering tid bits of blue which danced amongst the emerald swatches—he stopped. His thumb traced along the edge of the symbol of his defeat, the third boon that the fox had bequeathed upon him, and one the kitsune helped to show him the joys of with a playful tug to the band to pry their lips apart.\n\n“Mmmph... I guess there are worse pacts I could have been forced into...” Mordero mrowled in grumpy, half-hearted displeasure, before nestling in beneath the fox’s chest to enjoy their embrace for as long as it lasted. “...Master.”\n",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "Mordero hummed to himself as he stirred the large cauldron. The fossa’s sharp green eyes watched his concoction of viscous, bubbling green slime simmer to its ideal concentration, thickening it as needed by tossing in a few extra bones.
He wasn’t the only one eyeing the potent work of shamanistic magic being cooked, however. One of the fossa’s many spirit “friends” was doing his best to try and sneak a sample of the spiritually potent broth whenever the feliformia’s hands were occupied, a small, transparent feral votsoda which hung from the edge of the large, black iron pot. The shaman was half tempted to give the pesky little spirit a deserved end by knocking it into the brew rather than away—his ritual could always use the extra ‘kick’ that would come from the rodent spirit being dissolved within the caustic green slime... But he still had uses for the sneaky little scavenger, and summoning up its replacement would be more of a hassle than the entity’s precocious samplings.
For now, at least...
‘Nearly ready,’ he hissed silently to himself, pulling the metal ladle up from the glowing, sickly green broth to take the tiniest, sampling sip—only for a toothy grin to spread across his face as the utensil dissolved apart with the motion instead!
“Scratch that, it's all but done~” Mordero cackled to himself as his hand returned to stirring the cauldron with the remains of the utensil for as long as its handle lasted. His other paw, meanwhile, as well as his eyes returned to the foreign book that had made this ambitious ritual possible in the first place.
It was the prize he had ‘won’ after besting a shaman that had come from across the oceans, traveling within the strange, floating wooden fortresses that had started to appear more frequently in the last few decades—although the dog indignantly referred to himself as an ‘alchemist’ instead of a shaman when their mutual dealings with the occult was... ‘Discussed’.
The book itself was the bargain the canine had made for his freedom, an object that the man had called a ‘grimoire’---an object that contained the recorded knowledge pertaining to dozens of spirits both meager and powerful that did not dwell within Mordero’s island home of Madagasikara.
Of course, trying to summon a spirit from so far away would require more effort than beckoning forth one native to his homeland, making most of the book a useless curiosity to the spirit binder. But there were a few that were an exception... These enigmatic ‘fey’ as the alchemist called them could offer boons that the powers familiar to the fossa couldn’t, although the wonders they could bestow were in equal measure to their mercurial temperaments which made contracting them a typically foolish endeavor.
The one that had caught his eye was no exception. He was some sort of ‘fox’ spirit, a creature which seemed like a distant cousin to the feral mutts that the foreign traders occasionally brought with them. Although this particular fey wasn’t quite like the animals it called kin, being quite a bit larger as well as possessing five tails instead of his animal cohort’s one—all signs apparently attesting to the mystical beast’s power.
But it was a different type of potency that had attracted Mordero to summoning this entity despite the alleged risks told by both the book and his erstwhile acquaintance. The five-tailed fox was a spirit of vitality, fertility, and, most importantly to the fossa, vitality—known to bless the fields of villages that courted his favor with exceptional yields, and inhabitants with many healthy sons and daughters.
He couldn’t care less about the former—there were many local spirits the shaman could call upon to bless the soils, bestow luck upon hunters, or bring forth rain from the heavens if he was called upon by the local annoyances villagers. It was the latter of this vulpine’s portfolio that had drawn his interests, fueling his desire to enhance his already potent masculinity with the spirit’s boon, to the point that—so long as the book was accurate—his seed would be able to take root even within the belly of another man~
Just the idea made the fossa’s sheath swell with palpable excitement that was clearly visible to the myriad of spirits gathered around the shamans thanks to his half-dressed state—wearing only a green open vest around his shoulders as his hefty asset began to throb to life and add a few beads of his scent to the reed carpeting of his hut. His mind, meanwhile, swam with the devious plots his imminent boom would allow him to perform, fantasies of the rivals he’d humiliate with the ‘honor’ of baring his sons.
Of course, such a delectable boon was only rivaled by this fey spirit’s difficulty to control. No matter, Mordero wasn’t some amateur afterall. Sure, he was on the young side for his profession, far from being considered an elder since he hadn’t yet seen his 20th winter, but he still had several years of experience practicing his craft—and what he lacked in experience, he more than made up with in talent and guile.
His outsider perspective also allowed him to gleam some of the fox’s tricks. Mordero was certain that the traps laid within the fox’s summoning ritual would be suitable to dupe the practitioners of his homeland with their limited knowledge of the craft. But, to a foreigner on the other side of the world now learned in both traditions, he was able to see the subtle weaknesses and exploits within the formula that the vulpine could use to wiggle free from any summoner’s net and turn the tables.
A crafty fox, Mordero thought, provided the false net that lured foolish summoners to their doom was one of the fey’s own construction, and not just the result of incompetence by the compilers of the grimoire.
And how fortunate for him that he was using a summoning method completely unknown to the fey~
With a smirk, he watched as the last remnants of the ladle dissolve into the potent muck, the thick, viscous goo bubbling around the sinking remains of the utensil. Before, with a flourish, the tribal magician fetched his bag of reagents and began his work proper!
The votsoda spirit scampered away at last as the shaman began to prepare for the most difficult, and dangerous, part of the ritual—deciding instead to join the small menagerie of servants Mordero had bound into his service over the years that were watching it play out from the edges of the hut.
“Come forth, spirit far to the north.” He began, chanting with a droning hum in the back of his throat as he tossed the vulpine pelt he had bought from a foreign trader into the cauldron. “Fey of life and vigor, fey prince of forest and field, I call you here! Answer my summons and bequeath to me what I desire!”
He dropped in more items with every line he spoke, each object boiling away in quick order. Wisps of green smoke puffed out with each addition to the concoction, whilst the fossa’s green eyes and the green fur tattoos etched upon his ears and long, fellinesque tail, began to glow in sympathy with the energies he was directing.
“I call you here! I demand you answer my summons and bind you by your name, Lord Amoren Cinteroph, fox spirit of virility!”
The cauldron in front of him began to froth over as the power within it—the power he needed to harness to drag a spirit from so far away—convulsed and threatened to burst free from his control at the slightest mistake! Yet the shaman continued his chants irrespective of the danger, continuing to shape the mass of spiritual might as he wished, breaching the veil to the world of spirits to yank his soon-to-be patron to his location with the metaphysical equivalent of a less than pleasant tail tug!
A gust whipped forth from the large pot and foci of his ritual, causing the fossa’s open vest to flatter with the wind, whilst the anticipation burning within his blood pushed the tip of his peculiar shaft free from its exposed sheath. Soon. Oh so soon~ Perhaps he should put to use the gift he was about to receive to use on the very spirit he had coerced the power from? Oh, he could not wait!
The noxious brew began to evaporate, forming into a fog of magic that the fossa could direct with his will. Taking a step back, Mordero began to shape the veil of spiritual essence with his hands, hardening its exterior into a protective circle that would hold his ‘guest’, whilst directing the rest of the energy to begin turning upon itself—constricting into a tighter and tighter bundle of power that the fox would sprout from to enter the physical world!
Or... So Mordero’s ritual should have gone, as it had many times before with the various spirits he had summoned into his service. But, instead of shaping itself into the fey beast he had seen illustrated in the book, it instead coalesced further into itself, tightening into a perfectly round ball that hovered in the center of the ritual circle and cast an eerie green hue. Despite seeming bright enough for its light to peek through the shutters of his hut, the shadows of his home only seemed to deepen underneath its baleful glow. A fact that seemed to make the small swarm of his bound spirits nervous, skulking closer towards the door and windows as the tribal fossa tried to piece together what had happened.
Had his ritual failed? Did he not manage to pack enough power into his brew to reach across the continents?
He was just about to turn his attention away from the circle and to the grimoire for any answers when he noticed something in the corner of his gaze. His eyes snapped back towards the circle, but instead of focusing upon the thrumming seed of power gathered in its center, he looked off to the side—deep into the obfuscating shadows which billowed forth into the circle like a tide. There... A pair of blue eyes, hovering in the darkness like gemstones sparkling from the moon within a dark sea. Only when he stared deeper did the silhouette of the fox they belonged to appear. His narrow snout and pointed ears, framed by the green mane which grew darker near its end, were easier to spot—partially illuminated as they were by the creature’s own eyes and the hovering orb—whilst the rest of the creature blended into the darkness so well that, whenever the fossa glanced away, he’d have to search out the beast’s blurred visage once more.
Foreign spirit, foreign rules, he supposed. But at least the fox’s discrete arrival did not seem to be intended to ambush him considering the creature’s shimmering gaze was focused upon the spirit seed that the fossa had prepared—even taking a step towards the appetizing morsel, and with it, illuminate more of the enigmatic being that had answered his calls. It seemed that instead of dragging his surprised quarry to his homeland, his ritual had amounted to laying out an irresistible bait for the fox to snap up on his own initiative—well, whether he hunted down the spirit or trapped it, it made no difference now that his quarry was within his circle~
Except... Was this really the grand spirit he had been trying to reach? It was certainly a strange creature, unlike any on the island that Mordero knew of, and definitely bore a superficial resemblance towards the pelt he had thrown in, as well as the illustrations he had seen: Peculiar, orange and white fur besmirched by a set of odd cream-colored stripes, a set of five idly tapping, fluffy tails, and of course those mystically gleaming blue eyes that seemed to try and lure in Mordero’s gaze whenever he caught their fetching glimmer.
But. while the beast in front of him was larger than any predatory animal native to his home, the illustration had shown the beast to be far larger than the creature skulking about in the shadows in front of him! Could it be that the distance of the summoning meant that the fae had manifested smaller than its true size? Then again, it was also possible that his spell might have grabbed a related entity, rather than the one he was seeking out—the grimoire had mentioned in passing that this particular entity had a full host of sons to its name, after all.
Although... A curious glance between the animal spirit’s hind legs as it circled around the circle’s center revealed a rather well developed sets of balls, as well as a just as considerable pocket for its masculinity. Even if it was just a child of the great beast he was intending to call forth, perhaps this fox would still be able to give him what he desired~
“It would be quite uncouth to pawn off such an appetizing invitation from such an exotic locale off to one of my sons.” The creature spoke, answering Mordero’s unvoiced curiosities with an amused rumble despite its gaze still lingering upon the eldritch ball of energy hovering in front of him.
“It's rude to read someone’s mind without an invitation,” the fossa hissed in reply, squinting at the mystical vulpine trapped within his circle with a less than amused glare.
“Well, what else was I to do while you stood there not saying anything?” The russet-furred beast of shadows chuckled. “Such rude manners, and after I’ve come all this way to answer your summons—even if I did do so more out of my own curiosity... Or were you waiting for me to enjoy the offering you’ve set out before we got down to matters~?”
“Perhaps we should start with you bowing down in servitude to your summon–” Mordero started with his typical boastful taunt, only to be interrupted as the fox finally indulged upon the prize he had been staring at.
The nebulous creature’s jaws opened wide—framing the glowing orb of mystical green with his fangs—before the foreign animal’s long tongue lolled forth to cup its treat within its silky hold. A second later, and what was meant to form the body of this peculiar spirit’s embodiment had been pried from its invisible pedestal in the ritual’s center, the shadows writhing within the mystical cage reasserting themselves around the fox as the sphere’s light was shrouded by the beast’s maw. Until, with a salacious swallow, only a faint glimmer of green passed through the tenebrous shroud—illuminating only the fox’s tongue and fangs from the start of his throat—before being all but completely quenched with another audible, flaunting gulp!
The darkness looming with an almost physical presence behind the circle left just the vulpine’s azure eyes peering out from an inky void, now turned to his overly ambitious summoner. The devoured kernel of energy’s light still glowed, however weakly, from within the vulpine’s body. The glint peeked through the kitsune’s white underbelly fading as it was suffocated within his gullet, almost looking like it was the very darkness itself devouring the light rather than the fae which lurked within it.
“Hiss... Do you know how much power was in that? I’m surprised you’re not as fat as a tree trunk after swallowing it!” Mordero grumped, flexing his fingers in frustration at the vulpine’s gluttony! If he had known the fox would have appeared like he did, he could have used the energy within that spiritual seed as payment for the fae’s services. But now, since he lacked the reagents on hand to make a concoction of that potency again, he’d have to rely upon the sheer force of his will to kowtow or cajole this uppity ‘fox’ into paying out for his meal!
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. It was hardly the most succulent meal I’ve had~” The feral creature retorted with a lavish smack of his lips. His smirk became visible by some trick of the shadows underneath his control, treating the feliformia to the sight of his tongue slurping running across his fangs in further provocation against his supposed summoner.
“Still,” Amor continued, shifting his weight to sprawl languish within the circle intended to hold him prisoner—making sure to dismiss enough of the shadows circling around his body so that the lower bits Mordero’s gaze had investigated earlier were put on full display for his continued perusal. “It was enough of an appetizer for me to hear the earnest, heartfelt request that brought me all this way~”
“Request?” The African feliformia spat, his bright green eyes glaring at the fey whilst the magic behind them seethed with annoyance. “You do not know where you are, spirit. You are in my trap. You have already indulged in the payment I offered. There is no request about it, you will give me what I want! Unless, of course, you wish to spend the rest of eternity caged like some pet within my home!?”
“Tut, tut. You seem to be quite lacking in both manners and discipline. Obviously your parents weren’t strict enough with you as a pup.” The multi-tailed beast murmured in indifference to Mordero’s threat.
His gaze shirked away from the ever more annoyed fossa to examine the circle which was meant to hold him in place. With a smirk of amusement, the fey reached out with one of his forepaws to examine his cage, sliding his dull claws across the barrier that appeared when he drew near—banishing bellowing ribbons of darkness from the paw as it did so.
“Talk all you want, but there’s only one way out, and it's by giving me what I want!” Mordero snarled with an erratic flick of his tail. But, as annoyed as he was, he was also getting excited. It had been some time before he had to coerce a spirit, or even a man for that matter, to concede to him—and he was always delighted in seeing a competitor’s confidence shatter before his own. Especially when he got to use the power or resources he had stolen from his rival to use on their source~
“Oh? And just what is it that you wish of me, hmm~?” The fox’s tone was just as dismissive as it was before as he continued to pay more attention to the circle of magic trapping him than its constructor.
“Hmmph. Can you not tell by reading my mind, spirit?” Mordero rolled his eyes in annoyance at the fox’s antics. “I desire your power and virility!”
“Done~” The fox interrupted before the shaman could continue his tirade with a wide smirk.
Mordero was momentarily caught off guard by the sheer audacity of the fox’s interruption, before his glare redoubled at his quarry as he spat back with his own retort. “Pah, that won’t work here. I saw through your tricks, spirit! You won’t entrap me with twisted words or slip through my binds until you give me what I want in full and with no tricks!”
“Have you now~? Well... Why don’t we put that to the test, my new, adorable little plaything~?” The kitsune’s twisted smirk brought a shiver even to the cocky fossa, causing the fossa to briefly doubt the reliability of the ritual he had concocted.
No, no! The spirit was just trying to get under his fur! To try to undermine his will so as to weaken the spell holding him in place! It was foolproof! He had seen through the fox’s typical tricks, the well concealed errors in the spell-formula to summon him! He had corrected and reinforced them with powers that the foreign fox should be completely unfamiliar with! There was no way the fox could slip free. After all, he had never failed to summon, bind, and cajole a spirit before, and this latest, most grand of efforts would not be any different!
Mordero began to doubt the certainty of his thoughts as the fox stood up, turning his alluring blue eyes to stare at the fossa with the same hungry gaze he had given towards the ball of spiritual power now resting safely within his stomach. His many tails began to dance behind him in a further display of his excitement, whipping the darkness about him like a hand along the surface of the water. Yet Mordero’s eyes couldn’t help but slide lower than those dancing limbs or the fox’s captivating glare, instead focusing upon the masculinity stirring between the feral creature’s hind legs.
Much like his own anticipation had brought the fossa’s peculiar red meat to slide free from his sheath, so had the vulpine’s. Except the fox’s prick was already glazed in a thick, glossy layer of virile ambrosia dripped from the budding slab of flesh in a clear display of its fecund nature. Every step, and every shift of the quadruped’s body caused the stirring red trunk to shake, casting off droplets of mystically potent cream to land in sizzling beads against the ritual circle caging the sylvan fox. The tool was an impressive sight, sure, but... Considering the advantage in size he had towering over the dog-sized critter, Mordero was sure he’d still measure up bigger–
“That wasn’t too hard~” The fossa’s eyes went wide as the fox stepped out from the barrer as easily as the fossa could have stepped over a line of dirt. The mystical ward still glowed defiant, a translucent wall of green light acting as a dam against the seething ocean of darkness continuing to pour into the circle’s confines—before even that failed, and the sensory dampening void spilled forth to darken the rest of the room.
Worse, in the brief time it took for the darkness underneath his command to escape its confinement, Mordero was able to spy the beast’s body, and just how much larger the vulpine had grown while stepping over the threshold into his home proper. Those ominous, glinting azure eyes that Mordero had looked down upon before now turned the tables to stare down at the fossa—despite the fact that the looming monster of a vulpine, now every inch the figure of legend that the grimoire had stated, still stood on four legs.
A figure of legend that was now uncontained by the measures the shaman had put in place to protect himself, and likely to have taken at least a modicum of offence at the fossa’s attempt to coerce him into subservience.
Mordero couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment, shirking away with a step back to try and keep his distance from the stalking beast, only partially visible thanks to what little moonlight bled through the door of his home and the burning blue light radiating from its own eyes. But after that single step of reflexive panic he steeled himself against the threat before him, calling upon the myriad of gifts he had extorted from the various spirits around him over the years to try and force the vulpine into submission!
Alas, the fossa’s momentary pause was more than enough for the giant russet-furred monster’s longer gait to bring him within reach of his attempted captor, sending him spiraling toward the floor with a single slap from one of his mighty forepaws—the strike looking more like an inky wave of darkness upon darkness even after the foot had collided with his side.
“Fuck.” Mordero grunted while his vision spun from the sudden swipe, before scurrying onto his back to try and adopt a more defensive posture as soon as his senses returned. Not that it did much good when the foot responsible for his prostrate position pinned him against the ground. Amor made sure to keep his quarry in place by leaning but a fraction of his weight against the spirit binder’s chest, pressing the air out from his chest with a pathetic wheeze and scattering the defiant green glow within the shaman’s eyes with his breath.
Even standing on top of him, most of the feral monsters remained notoriously difficult to see, the faint silhouette still so easy to lose in the circling, cascading shadows drawing closer around them despite the fox’s size. All save for the giant kitsune’s glowering, predatory gaze looming just above him—illuminated by the luminous blue glint along with his salivating fangs.
Fear welled within the fossa’s mind as he lay there. But it wasn’t his own terror which crept up along his spine—the shaman himself still clinging to his delusions that he could reverse the situation—it was the panic of the various spirits he had under his control instinctively cowering in the face of a spiritual predator more than capable of rendering them down into fodder for his metaphysical appetite.
With the shaman that they were bound to now helplessly trapped beneath the source of their fear’s paw, it was only to be expected that they would begin to abandon him—forsaking the debts he had cajoled them into in order to protect themselves! The votsoda spirit that had tried to steal sips from his ritual brew was the first to run, fleeing through the door of his hut with a myriad of bird, mammal, and reptilian totems following on its heels—taking with them the useful gifts they had imparted upon Mordero with them.
“Mmm. Looks like your friends on the other side didn’t turn out to be that loyal,” Amor mused with a low, rumbling growl against the fossa’s ears powerful enough to vibrate the tips of his quarry’s fur.
“T-Traitors.” Mordero hissed again with what meager breath he could still draw in spite of the foot pressing down against his chest. Yet, even in the poor position he was, he continued to struggle. His hands shoved against the dire-kitsune’s legs and chest in an attempt to pry the feral fae off of him, strengthening his limbs with the only spirit that had not yet abandoned him as he did so. It was the first of the spiritual friends he had ever bound, a fossa spirit—the king of predators on his island home—and his most loyal ‘friend’.
Only for even that most time honored bond of allegiance to be severed when the fossa was slammed back onto the thatch floor by the fox hard enough for stars to once more cross over his vision. The shaman laid limp, blinking in an attempt to clear his gaze while the translucent green body of the feral fossa spirit fled from his body, leaving him that much weaker and unable to resist whatever intentions the giant vulpine had in mind for him.
But, at least this most stinging of betrayals was rewarded as it should when the fox’s jaws caught the spirit before it could scamper out of reach.
“Wait,” Mordero coughed, his thoughts twisting between anger at the spirit’s most heinous betrayal and concern for his old comrade---after all, he couldn’t blame the spirit for abandoning him in this situation. He’d no doubt have done the same if their positions were reversed.
To his surprise, the fox’s mystical fangs didn’t tear into the hapless spirit beast held between them. Instead, they held themselves in place, seemingly frozen against the spirit with just enough pressure to dimple the fuzzy-green surface of the spirit’s metaphysical neck despite how it squirmed and writhed within the much larger fox’s jaws.
But Mordero could tell that the fox’s pause was not given out of kindness. He recognized the malicious glint within the beast’s blue eyes, and how they stared down past the fox’s morsel towards his captive audience trapped against the floor. He knew it well. It was a glance he had given many unfortunate victims left in his wake. A glance to flaunt one’s victory, to torment their rival with their powerlessness to change what was about to happen, and thus he knew better than anyone that the mercy he could only hope for wouldn’t come.
Still... The fossa had more important things to worry about than the fate of his longest spirit-friend, like the massive slab of vulpine fuck meat that was resting against him while the beast settled in for his show! The kitsune’s shadows had retreated enough for Mordero to make out the details of the glistening crimson spire and whenever he glanced down, standing out vividly amongst the inky swatch that was the rest of the kitsune’s lower body.
He couldn’t escape the weight and warmth of that spire no matter how he squirmed underneath the foot pads pressing him against his reed mat floor, leaving him no recourse but to try to do his best to not acknowledge its imposing presence. But even that was a challenge—its sheer size made it impossible not to notice every time it twitched against his own bare crotch! The vulpine rod stirring to ever greater heights as it pulsed further across the fossa’s own budding studhood, soaking his abdomen with the vulpine’s ever drooling virility.
Worse, his own masculinity was proving to be just as much of a traitor as his spiritual allies, throbbing to full attention against the swelling column trapping it against his abdomen. By coincidence or the fox’s design, his loins lay against Mordero’s at just the right distance to allow the fossa’s shameful glances to compare their lengths against one another—allowing him to watch as his peculiar length seemed to try to out race the swelling column trapping it against his abdomen, despite the fact that its futile exuberance would clearly be outdone in the end by the sheer size of the masculine behemoth against him!
Or at least, the fossa hoped the reason his arousal was proving so stubborn despite his squirming protests was from his competitive spirit, or even just the sensual rubs of warm, slick, wet ‘sune cock against his own sensitive spire, and not the suspiciously enticing scent of virility clawing its way deeper into his nostrils with every breath he took. Although the fact that his shaft grew in excitement even as it became ever clearer how outmatched he was should have been more than enough to determine which source was most likely. Especially as his cheeks and ears flushed with the warmth brewing within his body as the kitsune’s pheromones began to take effect, pushing his knots free from his sheath one after the other—shortly thereafter followed by his eager, throbbing shaft’s point finally falling behind the fox’s looming arousal now dripping past his navel.
There was no way that this fey was potent enough to already undermine his will so soon... Could he?
Unfortunately, the only place he had to turn his attention towards to distract himself from the teasing roll of the kitsune’s pre-lathered dick meat across his own twitching nethers was the demise of his spiritually ally. The dire fox was making a game of it, letting the protesting spirit dangle from his fangs whilst his tongue lolled across the fossa spirit’s mystical essence. Perhaps, Mordero thought, that the kitsune was dallying in order to hear his pleas for the avatar to be spared. But, unfortunately for it, his ego had not yet been bruised enough to let such humiliating pleas slip from his lips even at the cost of his servant...
Especially since Mordero knew such verbal prostrations only encouraged him to devour whatever appetizing morsels he had gotten his hands on, and he highly doubted the fox would be any different.
All he could do was watch as the dire fox brought his show to its next act with a fearful gulp. The vulpine’s long, saliva-speckled tongue curled around the ethereal animal’s nape, wrapping around the entity’s neck like a metaphorical noose. With a snap of his jaws upwards, the spirit was condemned to its fate, pulled into the cavernous maw the large muscle lolled forth from by its yank and the pull of gravity. The ghostly animal’s head slid inexorably along the twitching, slippery, velvet carpet that was the back of the kitsune’s tongue, shepherding the entity towards its oblivion as the bust of the beast disappeared from view—leaving its long, lithe body to follow soon after.
Mordero froze, his eyes fixated upon the carnal scene being put on for him, memorizing every last detail as the spirit’s hind paws and tail—hanging past the sylvan fox’s chin—thrashed uselessly against the air. The remaining glimmer of power lingering within the shaman’s green eyes began to fade as the spirit slid deeper down the vulpine’s gullet. The descent of the vulpine’s morsel was once again highlighted by the fading green glow through the white fur on his throat, as well as the less than subtle bulge made by the totem’s ethereal body stretching and protesting uselessly against the humid cavern dragging it deeper to its demise with every shoving, constricting flex.
All the while, the now powerless spirit-binder could feel the vulpine’s predatory excitement pulse through his prick. Each twitch of the thick, heavy column smothering his belly and exotic shaft in another wad of pheromone-wafting pre, making each of the fossa’s breaths thereafter further spread the peculiar, needy warmth spreading throughout his body. His own, multi-knotted prick—once the largest shaft that the feliformia had ever known and now a distant second place—reciprocated against the kitsune’s twitches with its own, seemingly vicarious throbs of desire while being used as a mat.
The spirit disappeared from sight at last with one last gulp from the fox—its hind paws and tail sliding past the vulpine’s fangs with a satisfied smack of the large kitsune’s lips. Mordero’s dull-eyed vision watched the glowing bulge of the spirit’s body slip down the vulpine’s throat. The only thing left of the spirit now was the sleight curve it left in the beast’s belly, hanging with the ethereal ‘weight’ of the ghost, and the faint, green glow that faded in strength along with the combat spirit’s weakening struggles~
“A delightful appetizer... But now it's time for the main course~” Amor spoke with a satisfied sigh before his hypnotizing gaze returned to the fossa trapped beneath his paw. The feral fey leaned down, lapping his tongue that had shepherded the animal spirit to its now along the fear-and-arousal stained fur and skin of the fossa’s neck, mixing in those new flavors with the lingering aftertaste of the totem tingling across his palette.
“Do you know how much of a hassle it's going to be to bind another one of those!? You’ve taken more than enough to pay for the power I demand, already, so hand it over and get lost!!” Mordero hissed, the self-assured confidence he typically put behind every word floundering in the face of the vulpine’s overwhelming superiority. Not that his protest would have come across any better even if his ego had not started to crack thanks to the almost bashful blush burning on his cheeks—nor how his eyes struggled to look at anything that wasn’t either the feral’s fat cock making a mess of his fur with its constant fecund pulses or the vulpine’s eyes which threatened to steal away his floundering mind at any moment.
“Oh, but you’ve not yet received the boon you asked for, and we fey are quite the sticklers for following through upon our agreements.” The brutish vulpine retorted with a teasing snarl. His hips highlighted just what he intended to ‘honor’ with another rolling grind, sliding his column of convulsing virile meat across the fossa’s engorged exotic and barbed prick—and bringing the tapered point of that behemoth closer towards the island predator’s unplundered rump.
Mordero tried to desperately think of a way to escape the position he was in even as his flushed cheeks burned brighter the closer the vulpine drew to lining his log of virility up to his tight, virgin entrance. His panicked green eyes glanced throughout his hut, quickly seizing upon, then swiftly dismissing, one idea after another—nothing he could think of would do more than encourage the fox with a futile struggle, considering how ineffectual his spiritual ally’s proved to be in the face of the pernicious fae, and how much weaker he had become with their abandonment.
Fortunately, an opportunity presented itself a second later as the fox—perhaps taking his silent, frenzied contemplation as submission—removed the paw pinning the fossa in place so that he could bring its head between the male’s thighs, smothering the shaman’s plump balls in a lurid sputter of mystical vulpine pre as he did so.
The felinesque shaman sprung forward, twisting and bolting onto his hands and feet in a mad scramble to reach the door to his home before the fox could stop him! Did he have any hope of truly escaping the monstrous fey out in the jungles? No, not really—although he might have a fighting chance in the thick trees his kin had evolved for against the large feral’s loping gait—but the fox wasn’t here naturally. Even if his summoning methods didn’t go quite to plan, they were no doubt the anchor the fox used to appear here. So, if he got far enough away, there was a chance that the kitsune wouldn’t be able to pursue—he’d only have to wait until the fox got bored at that point and left to find his entertainment back home!
He didn’t even get as far as the exit to the wilds right outside his hut before the firm, heavy paw of the fey caught him by his shoulders and pinned him down against the straw-mat floor once more. Except this time his face was pressed against the ground by the weight of the fox on top of him, trapping his ass in an awkward, lifted posture thanks to where he was caught in his desperate scrambles—leaving his winking pucker on full display, while his traitorous, twitching prick and anxiously flexing balls beneath his ring sputtered out a streak of shameful arousal onto the floor.
“Going somewhere?” Amor growled. His snout was close enough to the fossa’s ear that the vibration from his words tickled over the feliformia’s pelt, his whiskers brushing against the back of the shaman’s neck.
He fought back as best he could, trying to push against the paw holding him in place, or at least to wiggle his ass into a less displayed position. But the fox’s pin was implacable, anchoring him in place with his weight pressed just beneath the nape of the fossa’s neck. Likewise, his attempts to at least stop his ass from presenting a prime breeding stance to his conqueror was halted with by a pair of the vulpine’s surprisingly strong and dextrous tails coiling around his thighs, holding his legs fast in place, and thus his ass left precariously raised to greet the vulpine’s throbbing masculinity.
Mordero gulped. His continuing struggles against his inevitable fate succeeded only in tiring his body with his ever more desperate exertions—growing more pathetic and futile the closer the kitsune’s pre-drooling start drew to the cleft beneath his tail. A cold shiver raced up along the fossa’s spine when he felt the monster nudge in place, slipping between his cheeks to tease the steepled point against his entrance. Amor’s hips pressed forward with just enough to tease the ring, dimpling it beneath the weight of the tool it was expected to service. The warm, trickling flow of addictive sylvan essence continued to bubble forth from the living fountainhead, pooling within the small space stretched open by the sampling stretch from the shaft’s shallow touch, before overflowing around the bountiful member to trickle down over the fossa’s spunk-matted taint and balls... Or seep deeper into the summoner’s belly, bringing with it a peculiar, tingling warmth deep within the male’s abdomen.
“W- Wait!” The shaman squeaked. Whatever was left of conviction and confidence deflated from his chest along with his beg, shattered just from the teasing kiss of that member to his quivering tail star. All for nought, of course, as the sylvan fox’s hips rolled forward and sunk the wedged start of his tool past the fossa’s taunt pucker regardless~
Mordero’s eyes went wide while his ring burned with the ache of being stretched for the first time in his life. His fingers and toes raked their claws against the floor, scrunching the tied straw lining within his clenched grip. His tail star squeezed tight, desperately trying to force out the column of meat grinding in with a power far beyond mortal means, which only served to make his body all the tighter for the fox’s clear enjoyment—every idle grunt or satisfied rumble being another mark of failure as the fox used him for his pleasure!
Yet, throughout it all, the shaman’s cock stubbornly throbbed—flexing in the air with renewed excitement for every inch that was pressed into him! Both of his knots swelled to full prominence while his flared head dripped with his own pre, the off-clear dew of arousal shaken loose in small strings of shameful arousal whenever his considerable masculinity was sent wagging by the tempo of the vulpine’s feral vigor—painting the floor of his home with his utter humiliation.
“Mmm... You’ve felt nothing yet, my pet. I’m only getting started~” Amor growled against the back of his plaything’s head.
The words barely registered in the distracted fossa’s mind before the beastly fox’s hips dragged back—nearly pulling his fat point from the quivering, spunk-slick male’s ring—before slamming forward with seemingly every ounce of strength those powerful legs could muster! Mordero’s breath was knocked from his chest with a pathetic gasp. Every muscle, from his splayed toes to his gritted teeth, clenched as the fat slab of vulpine cock rammed into him with an eye watering, searing ache as his conquered ring was wrapped and worn around the main girth of the vulpine’s length rather than just its tapered point—a seemingly impossible amount of cock now wearing him like a sleeve.
But, in equal measure to the discomfort that came from the vulpine’s despoiling pillage of his body came a euphoric shudder of bliss as the hole-stuffing feral dick ground across his sensitive prostate—rewarding Mordero for his conquest with a quivering rush of pleasure! His prick quivered, teetering on the brink of a climax that took all of the shaman’s remaining willpower to not surrender to, barely sparing himself that further humiliation as the aftershocks from the novel stimulation faded.
“F- Fuck!” Mordero hissed, clenching his faded green eyes shut as the vulpine pulled back for the next rutting press, sending with it another flurry of delectable shivers racing through his core. At least for the following bucks he knew what he needed to brace himself for, biting his lip as the vulpine’s pistoning shaft once again pinned his poor prostate against his walls again. The thick, turgid column may have stopped at his erogenous button for its first few proper thrusts, but after the beast was done teasing, the fox’s pre-slickened prick advanced with into his depths—compelled forward by the fae’s frenzied tempo that made clear he would not be satisfied with just a shallow, or even half-finished victory, leaving the fossa’s eyeing the monster’s tri-lobed knot slowly rolling closer and closer to his stretched-pink ring with growing anxiety.
He could imagine how pathetic he looked, pinned beneath the eager sylvan fox with his ass still raised despite his pathetic squirms by the fox’s constricting tails, as well as the slab of glistening dickmeat grinding in and out of his stretched pucker—wedged deep enough into his body to keep its sleeve aloft even as the strength in his leg’s floundered. His grunts of displeasure grew weaker, the emotion being them becoming more and more forced, if not entirely fabricated, while in contrast his stifled moans of pleasure grew more strident and even... comfortable. While, most embarrassing of all, his hefty fossahood throbbed with each prostate smashing advance, sending the exotic tool tapping against the bulge the creature’s cock made within his belly as it advanced and painting his midsection in fresh strings of arousal.
“There’s no use trying to pretend you’re not enjoying this~” The fox murmured again, growling hotly against an ear before emphasizing his point with another mew-forcing slam into his quarry’s ass.
“There’s no one here but us, and I can feel how much you’re liking this.” Amor continued with a fur-vibrating rumble. His snout tilted lower, enticing the fossa further into submission with a doting flick of the tongue which had shepherded his spiritual friend to its demise across the feliformia’s vivid red blush. “No one but us to see how shamefully aroused you are from being made my bitch. So you might as well just relax and enjoy yourself~”
“S- Screw you, you– you damn fox—” Mordero replied with a seething hiss.
But, it seemed his attempt at defiance only played further into the vulpine’s pernicious wiles as the beast’s nuzzling snout darted down across his flushed cheeks, before interrupting the shaman’s words with a commanding shove of his silky tongue into Mordero’s maw open maw!
Whatever crumbled visage of confidence the feliformia had cobbled back together collapsed once more underneath the weight of the large, velvety tongue rolling across his palate and the back of his maw in one motion—drawing a surprised whimper from the pinned male, as well as a differential flick of his ears against the scalp. Even his glare softened into a surprised, and even half-adoring, glance—allowing the first hints of shimmering blue to take root in the corner of his eyes as the vulpine’s influence found fertile ground at last to take root.
Mordero’s mind raced. What was happening to him!? He couldn’t really be enjoying this so much, could he..? He surprised himself further as his own long tongue began to sluggishly dance with the fox’s, seemingly on its own accord—no matter how much he mentally yelled at himself to get a grip on his own emotions and needs. Yet, he couldn’t help but enjoy each electric brush of the muscles against one another, even going so far as to twist his snout to lock his lips against the feral’s snout.
It had to be something about the fox... Was it his touch..? His scent..? Perhaps all the vivid warm, tantalizing pre pooling within his body and lathering his walls for each squelch-ringing buck forward..? This pleasure, this desire to submit couldn’t possibly have arisen from himself, afterall! It must have been some, some trick, some beguiling influence forcing it upon him!
Yet, regardless of its source, it was no less captivating to indulge, guiding the fossa’s expression to relax into a look of blissful euphoria with every delectable tryst of their tongues, and every nerve wracking slam of his dick underneath his tail. The long limb rose to ensure his... mystical lover... had full and unfettered access to his entrance, while it slowly wrapped around the large feral’s midsection to return some small fraction of the pleasure he was receiving to the beast with an embracing squeeze. His gaze, meanwhile, fell into the gravity of the kitsune’s enthralling azure hues, locking his sight to his as the faint glimmer of sapphire light seeded within his eyes began to shimmer across the entirety of his gaze—mirroring the fae’s as he became completely captivation to their splendor.
Would it really be so bad to just... submit just this once and enjoy himself~? Could he even pretend that he wasn’t desperate to feel the excitement coiling within his loins finally find release underneath the guidance of the shaft relentlessly plowing into his ass? Could he deny his growing desire to be tucked close against the shadowy kitsune as their union was sealed by a fat, tri-lobed knot? The bargain he had sought by summoning the fox was all but forgotten, cast aside as he leaned into the pleasure the vulpine was showing him—bracing back into every swing of the vulpine’s mating hips with one hand, whilst the other reached up to cusp his adoring sylvan befectator’s muzzle with the other, while his open, unabashed moans joined the growls vibrating between their tongues.
Only for the fossa to once more be denied when Amor’s lips pulled free from his. His snout hovered just a few inches shy of his, close enough that a small bridge of saliva clung between them before the beast’s hungry pants snapped the string in twain. Mordero’s tongue chased after the fox’s retreating maw, trying to lure him back into their sultry waltz.
A pathetic, whimpering mewl of desire followed suit, slipping from his agape maw, whilst the cat’s adoring, half-vacant gaze stared up with a hint of betrayal and loss from the tongue’s removal.
“That’s a better look for you, my little summoner~ See how much better it is to let all those airs you put on just slip away~? How good it is to be honest with what you need, at least when it comes to your owner~?” The fox teased, prickling at the fossa’s subdued psyche with the emphasis he placed on the last word.
But, whilst the teases might have drawn a euphoric-tainted growl or frown from Mordero’s lips, it didn’t halt the clear look of enjoyment stretched across the defeated shaman’s pleasure-wracked face—nor the azure hold obscuring Mordero’s green eyes behind the glimmering blue veneer. They also didn’t last long, his half-hearted efforts at refusal at the vulpine’s obvious truths were quickly washed away with a lurid clap against his wide-stretched ass as his monstrous conqueror’s knot crashed against his overstuffed ring—sending a far more desperate and unsavory moan echoing forth from the beguiled shaman’s throat!
“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head~ I’ll make it more than just an idle tease~” The fox’s sordid growls rolled out again, making the fossa’s hackles rise as the umbral kitsune’s rumbling lips nuzzled against the nape of his neck.
At the same time, the fox’s hips changed their stance—no longer thrusting in with mindless self pleasure in mind, hammering the feliformia’s prostate to sent rippling shudders of euphoria convulsing through his being and visibly distending his abdomen around the sheer size of the shaft he was expected to pleasure. Instead, the baleful beast was starting to focus on rolling the last half of his prick in and out of the fossa’s spunk-overflowing hole, clapping his knot against the abused ring again, and again, all but pronouncing his intentions with every wet smack of the glands against their soon-to-be holster.
“I will make... you... mine~!” The fox snarled with the weight of his conviction behind his promise. His lips parted, pulling back behind his deadly, spirit-ripping fangs—exposing the spit-glistening ivories within the corner of the fossa’s vision.
Mordero had barely a moment to brace for what was coming before the points of the deadly teeth tickled gingerly against the back of his neck! The subdued and lust-addled shaman clenched every muscle within his body, tensing in preparation for the mating bite that was to come. But he couldn’t prepare for how the mystical beast’s bite cleaved into his being, pushing past fur to puncture not just his skin, but his very soul.
The sharp pain of the vulpine’s fangs tearing across nerves contrasted sharply with the wellspring of euphoric bliss that erupted from the deepest core of his being as the kitsune’s ‘kiss’ sampled his spirit. The darkness of his hut seemed to deepen as the fox’s jaws tightened their hold upon his neck, leaving only the bright sapphire glow of Amor’s eyes—just enough light to partially illuminate the soul-cleaving jaws around his neck, and how intently the monster’s gaze bore down upon him, seemingly looking straight past Mordero’s broken, entranced, and pleasure-wracked expression to stare into the very spirit he was feasting upon.
Mordero’s eyes opened wide, his maw following suit as an incomprehensible mixture of syllables spilled forth with an ecstatic moan—keeping whatever desperate beg to be claimed his bliss-consumed psyche tried to utter from being understood. But, where his words failed him, his body was more than willing to give voice to his needs. His legs worked in concert with the tails coiled around the limbs, lifting his abused rear into the next demanding buck from his spiritual conqueror’s hips! His claws, meanwhile, tore into the reed mat of his home, digging into the ground beneath to properly brace for what he knew—what he prayed for—came next!
SLAM!
Another yelp of abject euphoria rolled from bite-trapped fossa to join the wet squelching ‘plop’ of the kitsune’s pre-slickened knot cramming itself underneath his tail! The shaman’s brown-furred cheeks pressed against the fox’s white crotch, the spirit binder’s body all but hanging from the dire beast’s hips as every last inch of the abdomen bulging shaft twitched within him. His own tool mirrored every jumping jolt racing through the buried prick thanks to the tool’s drumming pulsing against his prostate—leaving the tamed shaman hanging on the edge of his release with quivering trepidation. His blue-beguiled eyes stared back into the gleaming blue stars of the kitsune’s eyes set amidst the obfuscating darkness of his home, wordlessly, breathlessly, begging for his Master’s seed.
Fortunately for the shaman-turned-pet, fey were sticklers for the pacts they had struck, even the one-sided ones like the vulpine had imposed upon him. The trio of glands sunken past his ring throbbed, sending the fossa’s eyes rolling further into the back of his head as every nerve wrapped around the vulpine’s prick screamed in ecstasy in tandem with the shaft’s jolts! Any give his feral owner’s shaft had in its flesh gave way with every tying-swell, wedged within him at its turgid peak—its sheer size ensuring every shudder rolling through the tool was reflected in the impression it on his body, and the reflexive squirm and whimper those twitches made the fox’s prize.
The fox’s fat, heavy spheres—resting against his own smaller pair and radiating a cozy warmth against the suffocating tenebra pressing in against them—flexed. Seething hot, virile vulpine seed poured into Mordero’s belly, crashing against his walls with a tumbling torrent of pure bliss! His head, meanwhile, craned back as far as the fanged grip on his neck scruff would allow, recklessly casting his moans into the night air without any regard for being heard by any rogue passersby to his remote hut.
The fossa’s prick pulsed in concert with the shaft buried deep within his rump. His knots flared as his shaft flexed at full prominence with the first warmth-spreading deluge coursing into his belly. Before, with the second bucket-worth of addictive ambrosia pouring into his midsection—sparking a rippling wave of fur in the wake of the subtle bulge of trapped seed it left behind—his own arousal finally boiled over. His balls clenched in a new, lurid tango with the larger spheres resting against them, sending his seed splattering onto the now exposed first between his knees—every rope haphazardly casted onto the ground joined by his euphoric whimpers and the steady background rumble of his mystical patron’s growls... As well as the twitch-inducing bloat of his seed-swollen belly pressing further against his free-firing shaft.
Mordero’s climax lasted far longer than the already quite potent fossa was used to—his convulsing, seed sputtering prick managing to keep up with every throbbing discharge from the kitsune’s, even if they couldn’t match his prodigious output. At first, the few buzzing neurons still capable of stringing together a thought within the fossa’s skull thought it might have just been due to the constant throb of the vulpine’s knot against his prostate, effectively milking him dry with the continued assault to his pleasure button.
That was, until, he noticed that far from receding, every rope of jizz surging forth from his exotic dick was larger than the last! His suspicions only grew as he discovered a unique pleasure brewing within his loins beyond the rush of euphoria that came from his release and the cock grinding itself into his seed-inundated belly, as every cum shot poured into him left his fat fossa balls swelling heavier than before... While every wasted streak erupting through his own in answer left the already considerable shaft larger than it had been before, laying against his increasingly gravid belly with its own growing weight.
“I’m a fox of my word~” The dire feral growled, releasing his hold upon his partner’s scruff as his, and by extension Mordero’s, climax rolled to a slow, gradual stop—long after the plentiful cream flooding the fossa’s belly had overflowed past the knot ostensibly responsible for trapping the fluid in place, making a further mess of the shaman’s home as their seed mixed into a lurid pool upon the floor after its trickling journey along their nuts, down along his thighs, or most sordidly of all, flowing across the gravid belly the virile essence had escaped from.
Mordero blinked as he contemplated the kitsune’s words as the euphoria of their release faded into a pleasant afterglow, returning some of the cat-like mammal’s faculties with its retreating tide. The extra heft and simmering virility he felt from his loins was a pleasant distraction for the uppity shaman as his senses returned, helping him to ignore the fact that he was still tied in a rather humiliating position beneath the beastly, tenebrous fae, or from recalling the rather... shameful... acts he got up to beneath the fox’s hedonistic influence.
The vivid azure glow within his eyes started to recede to a more subdued speckle in the corner of his vision—its retreat mirrored by the looming, oppressive darkness that had blotted out the world around them, allowing the soft light of the moon and starts outside to creep back into his home through the door and various shutters his spirits had left open during their retreat.to allow the soft light of the moon and stars outside to creep back into his home.
He could feel the fox’s power within him, somewhat similar to how he felt his former allies’ help whenever he had manifested their gifts—as if he couldn’t see that the kitsune had honored at least some of the intent behind the words he seized upon by the large mess his tool had made, nor the extra luggage his crotch now carted around. A fact that Mordero still relished despite the nascent dread looming in the back of his mind—rejoicing in the extra heft draped over his swollen belly and the extra warmth stoked within his heavier spheres.
But, unlike the typical spiritual might he felt take root within his body by the various pacts he forged in his occupation, this aid was not delivered on his terms. He could only begin to imagine the cost that the five-tailed fox might have imposed upon him for the boon he had sought—being given utter free reign after overpowering him and twisting his mind and spirit into rapturous acceptance of every desire the vulpine had for him.
He already had a good guess as to one of the costs for his one-sided gift. Mordero had known since the first touch of the kitsune’s seed within his body that it had taken, a fact that in his blissful stupor had only made his humiliating joy for serving the vulpine all the stronger right before his own climax caught up. But that was hardly unexpected, he had expressly summoned a creature of virility to receive that very boon, after all!
But the vulpine’s claim went deeper even than the boys that were now growing within the fossa’s belly. With a bashful shiver, the tied feliformia shifted his weight onto one elbow so he could reach back to where the kitsune had dug his fangs into his soul. He could feel on an instinctual level that that he was claimed, the kitsune’s ownership etched into very spirit. In a way, it almost felt like how Mordero would brand the totems underneath his control—and, he imagined, would be just as overt to those whose eyes peered into the veil between realities, or by the very creatures he tried to call upon.
It was yet more weight pressing down upon the fossa’s recuperating psyche as he slowly processed what had just happened, keeping his ears flicked against his scalp and an embarrassed flush across his cheeks. He was going to be mothering the fox’s kits! He had all but begged to do so! And, even now, after the vulpine had released the oppressive authority it wrought over his mind, recalling those sordid details still made his spent shaft twitch with excitement!
His contemplation was interrupted by the vulpine suitor rolling over, shifting Mordero from his erratic pinned stance on the floor by the tug of his fat knot upon his pucker, and instead settled the shaman against the fox’s chest as he laid within the beast’s... lap?
Amor was no longer on all fours, but instead had transformed into an anthropomorphic visage to better nestle in with his new lover—although when and how the fox had done so the shaman couldn’t say. It was like the fox had been a studly feral one second, then a handsome and charming male the next!
Although Mordero wasn’t certain if he liked the kitsune’s current form any better than the last... Him being pinned beneath a virile stud beast gave him at least an excuse, or at least a bit of cognitive separation, to how he had found himself in his current predicament—being made some mysterious, enigmatic, and alluring creature’s bitch didn’t feel quite as shameful as being lovingly doted upon a ruggedly attractive foreigner. Now, though, with the vulpine’s broad shoulders to lean back against, and powerful arms wrapping around the new mother to comfort him during their post-coital bliss? That was gone, causing the shaman to glance aside from his suitor with his cheeks and ears burning red once more.
Especially as Amor helped to draw his attention to one of the more... overt ways the vulpine had claimed the fossa as one of his playthings. The kitsune’s fingers brushed along the crown of his seed-heavy abdomen, tracing along where his silky brown fur had darkened into a jet black hue. It only took one furtive glance for Mordero to recognize the brand from the grimoire he had summoned the vulpine from, the fox-headed mark flanked by a set of five tails matching the being responsible for placing it there—announcing to all who saw it just who the father of the mystical litter growing within his belly was.
Still though, he had to admit, it felt... nice... being cradled in the kitsune’s arms and many tails. He even felt safe, in a way. The fear and terror he had felt once the vulpine had stripped him bare of his power and defenses replaced by a sense of contentment, knowing that those same deadly fangs and wiles were now a bastion protecting him thanks to the creature’s children taking form within him. Even how the fox’s hand continued to brush over his swollen belly as if it was comforting their nascent litter sparked a sense of... delight... in the capricious shaman that he didn’t quite know how to express.
Not that he would admit to any of that to the fox, of course, and if anyone else dared even whisper that he had such sentiments, he would feed them to his patron himself!
“S- So... Just what sort of ‘creative liberties’ have you taken with this... ‘blessing’ you’ve given me?” Mordero grumbled with a small purr a moment later, glancing half at the gravid belly his cuddling patron was admiring, and half at his hefty fossahood only just now starting to slip back into its sheath. If there was any consolation to this affair, it was going to be putting that monstrous endowment to good use before the litter growing in his belly got in the way.
“Oh, nothing too outlandish~” The fox teased with his own rumble of contentment. His snout pressed against Mordero’s cheek, deepening the blush beneath its adoring touch, while the hand not busy rubbing across his cum-filled dome reached past to give the tribal shaman’s balls a teasing squeeze. “Anything you sire with the enhanced virility I’ve gifted you will be mostly yours, don’t worry~”
“Hmph. Mostly?” The fossa hissed with contempt. He doubted the fox’s definition of mercy and his own were at all similar, as would be their concept of ‘mostly’ unchanged.
Although... Considering their similar sentiments, perhaps that wasn’t quite true after all—making him worry even more about the toll the vulpine had extracted in exchange for his favor.
“Well, there may be a little bit of ‘me’ here and there. But don’t worry, they'll be almost entirely yours... Just think of it as a little ‘tax’ for all the extra kittens you’ll sire~”
Mordero rolled his eyes in reply. He didn’t know if the fox’s words meant that there might be some of the kitsune’s ‘foxy features’ showing up in the fossas he sired, or if there was a chance that one in a litter might look like the fox had fathered them instead of himself—or even some combination of both—but he’d no doubt have to wait until getting to put his enhanced equipment to work to discover that answer for himself. Trying to get the answer from Amor was just going to give the vulpine more opportunities to torment his bruised ego further.
Instead, he decided to give up on trying to argue with the fox and instead just... relaxed in his owner’s grasp, as if hoping to hide from the consequences of the kitsune’s conquest—and by extension, the outside world—by nestling into the sylvan creature’s arms and many ensnaring tails.
“And our... These ones..?” The fossa’s gaze briefly turned towards his branded belly, still stuffed with the fox’s considerable girth and plentiful release, and more importantly, the nascent litter the fox had taken as his price that Mordero couldn’t quite yet call his children.
“Our kids' parentage will be unmistakable~” The fox rumbled hotly, showing no hesitation at all in acknowledging the mystical scions he had planted within the other male. In fact, if the possessive squeeze he gave to his tied plaything—and the sultry growl of desire rolling from his lips alongside the firm twitch from his tied shaft—was anything to go by, it was likely a point of pride, or at least joy. “Perhaps a bit more like me than their mother, but plenty enough for you to see yourself in our little hell raisers~ I expect you to take good care of them... As well as the following litters I give you~”
“The next ones!? How do you expect me to go about my days if you treat me like your brood bitch!?” A touch of Mordero’s typical feistiness returned with a grumpy hiss.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of time to have your fun~ I just might drop by from time to time... check in on our kids... teach them a few tricks... Answer their pleading begs for some younger brothers to help cause mischief with~ Everything a loving fae lord dad should~”
Any further complaints from the uppity fossa were preemptively ameliorated with a doting smooch on his forehead, disarming him enough for the kitsune’s to follow by wrapping his fingers around the huffy spirit binder’s chin to pull their lips together once more. This kiss was much easier to refuse than the last, but still Mordero leaned into it, once again feeling his long, barbed muscle dance against the broader, silky carpet.
Although, perhaps that was a mistake, as it allowed the kitsune’s digits to sweep down from his jaw to brush fondly over the discolored fur marking where the fox’s bite had dug into his soul—before obscuring the second mark of claim by conjuring forth a leather band around the fossa’s neck. The weight of the symbol of claim resting against his neck made Mordero’s heart leap within his chest. His body tensed—inadvertently squeezing his rump tight around his Master’s knot—as his first reflex was to protest and fight to free himself of that final humiliating accessory.
But, as one of his arms reached up to brush along the magic adornment, brushing his fingers over the strap which pulsed with the flowing green pattern of his spirit—save for the flickering tid bits of blue which danced amongst the emerald swatches—he stopped. His thumb traced along the edge of the symbol of his defeat, the third boon that the fox had bequeathed upon him, and one the kitsune helped to show him the joys of with a playful tug to the band to pry their lips apart.
“Mmmph... I guess there are worse pacts I could have been forced into...” Mordero mrowled in grumpy, half-hearted displeasure, before nestling in beneath the fox’s chest to enjoy their embrace for as long as it lasted. “...Master.”
",
"pools_count": 0,
"title": "Friends From The Other Side",
"deleted": "f",
"public": "t",
"mimetype": "application/msword",
"pagecount": "1",
"rating_id": "2",
"rating_name": "Adult",
"ratings": [
{
"content_tag_id": "4",
"name": "Sexual Themes",
"description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal",
"rating_id": "2"
}
],
"submission_type_id": "12",
"type_name": "Writing - Document",
"guest_block": "f",
"friends_only": "f",
"comments_count": "2",
"views": "284"
}