The glances, the stares, the whispering in each-other's ears...Komori Iruden was used to them. To be ogled and whispered about in the alleyways of The Warrens had become second nature by now, something he had grown accustomed to in the years he'd spent wandering-- of course, why wouldn't they look, when he wandered the slums of Bolas dressed in the finest luxury? If that weren't enough to catch the eye, it was what his appearance meant to those in The Warrens that caused their heads to turn.

He'd lost count of the years he'd spent coming to the docks of Bolas, though they were more colloquially known as The Wharf District. He always came with a plan in mind, and those that had seen him come and go knew very little about his motivations, or even what he got up to-- all they knew was that wherever he went, whoever he spoke to, they were elevated in status. Coin flowed from their veins and they swiftly moved in to the Domestic Quarter for a better life. The red Kitsune, with his black-tipped limbs and appendages, brought fortune wherever he went. Some were frightened by the prospect, more out of fear of upsetting their 'patron' than anything else; those that were brazen enough to approach and offer their services, or beg that they would do anything, were swiftly ignored...and if they tried to lash out, they were often beat down by those of The Warrens who wanted to do their best to appease him. The rest kept their distance and wished for the day they might have him look their way. For one man to hold such power was terrifying to them, but to him it was amusing; most of them could never hope to offer what he wanted.

If he was being honest with himself, very little about The Warrens actually interested Komori; it was smelly, run-down, and loud...there was a reason it was known as the slums. He wasn't here for wares, or for easy labour, or even for fresh fish-- no, his eyes were on something a little more personal...and luckily for him, such a thing was right around the corner. As he passed by a ramshackle abode that was barely being held together by its clumsy foundation of wood and a tightly bound tarp that looked like it might rip at any moment, his eyes fell upon two male creatures directly across from him, huddled inside the doorway of a similarly-constructed building. They were Ysoki, anthropomorphic people like himself, but they resembled rats as opposed to the mythical and luxurious Kitsune that he was.

To say they were messy and poor was an understatement-- after all, that's where he was. Their fur was a dirty blonde, veering on brown, and he could tell from the exact shade of the two that they were related. The older of them seemed tired and remarkably short, but there was a clear defined air about the way he sat that gave way to power; he cleaerly did manual labour for a living, and was adequate at it...but the missing patches of fur on his almost entirely naked body definitely spoke of a man who had been in a scrap or two, or had been victim to an accident. The other of the duo, however, was unblemished and petite, clearly a cub who hadn't worked a day in his life, yet. There was no missing patches of fur, and he was spindly and slender, distinctly malnourished but otherwise healthy. Komori watched from a distance, observing their mannerisms, they way they spoke and how they interacted; much could be discerned from a glance, but more could be understood if one took the time to soak in the details...and Komori was definitely a stickler for the fine print.

Their lack of proper food and a reasonable wage showed, not only in their abode but how they distributed food and clothes; the older of the two, presumably the older brother, had thick and sturdy canvas pants designed for working long hours, but he evidently didn't care too much what happened to his body, for he didn't even wear a shirt...but he bore gloves, indicating that his job was important to him, enough for him to do it efficiently. At the same time, what Komori presumed to be his younger brother opted for practically no clothes at all; he bore a wrap around his stomach that might as well have been used to just store a few things instead of affording pants with pockets, and he wore nothing else, all the more intimate parts of his lithe and young figure on full display for Komori to silently ogle from a distance. The younger Ysoki held a stale chunk of bread in his hands and spoke cheerily to the older rat, his body upright and his eyes bright-- the older seemed to listen to him quite well, but there was a sag to his tired body, so he must have worked recently.

The Kitsune had hoped, at least for a while, that he was being fairly discreet watching them from afar, but by a stroke of luck, or perhaps fate, the older Ysoki raised his head and his gaze quickly snapped in Komori's direction, picking out his bright red fur and lavish black coat from amongst the brown and greys of The Warren's architecture. He knew there'd be no sense in keeping his distance longer, and with an adjustment of his coat, he slowly began to approach. As he made his way over, which was a good handful of metres, the older Ysoki straightened and muttered something to the younger one, who quickly rose and disappeared inside. By the time the Kitsune approached, the older Ysoki was already stood up straight, looking at presentable as possible-- this one was no stranger to the rumours, either.

"G...Good afternoon, sir." The rat man spoke and performed something akin to a bow, that was mostly just him leaning forwards for barely a handful of moments. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I was just in the area perusing for something in particular..." The Kitsune began, before offering a gloved hand. "Your name?"

"...Sketch, sir." The Ysoki shook his hand with all the politeness in the world, which Komori appreciated. He could tell the rat knew who he was, or at least had heard of him before, and the way his eyes grazed across the Kitsune's front made it clear he was surprised by his getup. Though Komori was a wealthy individual who wore the finest clothes, he actually showed himself of a little as well; his robes were parted slightly around his chest and bound tightly near his stomach, display a dazzling pure white chest as a stark contrast to his otherwise bright red fur, his chest toned yet not distinctly muscular; the peak physique for an aristocrat or otherwise. It was hard to tell if Sketch was looking because he was interested or something else entirely, but it didn't matter.

"You can call me Den," It was an optimal alias; no one should know his name anyway. "Tell me, Sketch, was that your brother I saw just now? What's life like in The Warrens?"

"Oh, he's my son, sir," Sketch quickly corrected him, his face briefly flushed. "But...it's hard, sir. I take care of my boy Rush as much as I can, but we're barely making ends meet. I just want him to have a normal life."

Bemusement crossed the Kitsune's features at the realisation; he guessed that Sketch must have had his child at a very young age, but the fact that it had been difficult to tell if they were siblings or father and son was a little amusing.

"What would you say if I can make that happen for you?" A glint twinkled in Den's eyes at his words, and Sketch stared at him wide-eyed, like an angel had just descended upon him.

"I...that would be very much appreciated, Mr. Den, sir." He was eager, fervent even, but Den held up a hand, giving the Ysoki a moment of pause.

"It's not for free," Den warned him. "To be blunt, Sketch...I want to have sex with your son."

If Sketch's visage were capable of it, the colour might have drained from it. He was taken aback to say the least, and his muzzle parted to speak before it clamped shut, both holding his tongue and also drawing a blank on what to say. Den was used to such a reaction; most of the other parents of kids around the Wharf District he'd seen had the same look on their face when he first told them. Though, to be fair, most of them were aware of what Den wanted by this point...the fact that the Ysoki was already so concerned showed how much he protected his son. Like the rest, however, the realisation and impact of what money from a wealthy man could do to change someone's lifestyle began to show, and the ratman calmed.

"Feel free to refuse, of course," Den continued when the Ysoki didn't immediately respond. "Remember, however, the difference in our stations, what that money could mean for you. Surely you wouldn't deprive your son of a bright future, would you?"

"Listen, you might mean well, and I don't know who you think you are, but--" Sketch began, already fuming.

"500 gold." Den interjected, and Sketch froze on the spot. In their society, they mostly dealt in copper, silver and gold coins, with the first being the cheapest and the last being the most expensive. They barely survived on the handful of coppers they earned every day, but with 500 gold they could easily afford a place to live in the domestic quarter, with a good couple hundred gold left over to use for savings until Sketch could find a job that wasn't in the slums. Frankly, it was na offer too good to refuse, and Den knew it; he'd seen many parents of young cubs have the same expression on their face. For a moment, Sketch didn't know what to say, his brain fried from the mere suggestion of such an absurd amount of money; he'd never seen a gold piece in his life.

"Y...You..." He began, before clearing his throat and casting his eyes down, his tail awkwardly coiling around behind him and wrapping around one leg, betraying his nerves.

"I will be gentle, rest assured," Den insisted. "I am not a monster, after all."

"...You promise?" Sketch was tentative, but the money outweighed his morals; Den could see it in his face.

"Yes, of course," Den waved a hand, coercing him with a smile. "Do you not think rumours would spread of my rancor if such a thing were possible?"

"Well...I suppose," It was hard to argue with that logic. "Come, then...I'll introduce you."

With a smirk, Den watched as Sketch disappeared inside the run-down shack, and the Kitsune followed suit. A single cloth flap that had been pinned with a crude wooden hook sat on the right side of the door, and all it took was a flick of Sketch's hand for the tattered fabric to loosen, draping down to perfectly cover the entrance and block out most of the light, giving them some privacy-- there was a lantern with a candle in the corner of the room however, sitting atop a thick wooden barrel, and Sketch quickly lit it to illuminate the room a little. The interior looked worse than the outside; the floor was just crude bits of wood and the roof looked like it might cave in at any second. On the opposite side of tiny room was a rickety little table with a couple of poorly built and cheap wooden cups sitting on top, and right beside it was a collection of furs that looked surprisingly clean, no doubt cleaned every so often in the waters of the docks. There, sitting on those furs, was the object of Den's current interest; the young and cheery Rush, who in that moment seemed a little too shy to even say hello.

"Rush," Sketch began. "This is Den. He's...someone who can get us a good home in the Domestic Quarter."

"Really?" Rush perked up instantly at the thought, his eyes bright with childlike wonder and awe. He looked from his father immediately to Den and back again, happy as can be, and just the face alone tugged at Den's hearstrings and more.

"Yes, but...he'll need to do some things first." Sketch tried to awkwardly explain, and Den raised a hand, glancing to him.

"How old is he?" The Kitsune asked casually. Sketch pulled a face in response, but answered.

"He's 8." Den nodded in response and slowly looked to the younger Ysoki before stepping forwards. He padded across the room in sandals that protected his paws before stopping in front of the furs, squatting down to get roughly close to the boy's height. Rush was incredibly small, barely 3 foot tall, and his father wasn't that much bigger at maybe 4 and a half feet. Den towered over them both, so it made sense to make himself small to be more relatable...or perhaps just less intimidating.

"Hello, Rush," Den greeted him with a soft, warm voice that he hoped put the boy at ease. "What would you like to do when you reach the Domestic Quarter?"

"Um...go to school, and make new friends!" His innocent attitude made Den smile, before he held out a hand. Rush instinctively reached out his own and put his furless digits against Den's glove. They looked so small, yet Den assumed they might be coarse from what little work the boy did.

"Lots of friends, hm? That's quite a lofty goal, but one I think you can manage," Den off-handedly complimented the cub's friendliness before he continued. "And do you think you'd enjoy quite a few flavourful, full meals?"

"I think so," Rush continued, squirming in his seat a little in anticipation of it. "Um, it'd really like to try steak! We usually just have jerky and mushrooms..."

"Mushrooms? How bougie," Den smirked. "There are better mushrooms in the Domestic Quarter. Would you like to try them?"

"Yeah, yeah!" He beamed, tail swishing to and fro. "I want to wear pretty clothes too."

"Well...It all hinges on you, Rush," He insisted. "It's about what you want to do, and what you're capable of. In this moment, you're very important and special, do you understand?"

Rush could barely contain his excitement and being put up on a pedestal, his eyes practically sparkling with delight, and he fervently nodded at Den's words. The Kitsune smiled even wider; he had the boy hook, line and sinker-- now he just needed to seal the deal.

"Do you know what sex is, Rush?" He asked directly and bluntly, and he heard the scuffle of Sketch's feet behind him, his body unable to restrain his discomfort; thankfully, he didn't speak up. Rush looked thoughtful for a moment, his muzzle twitsting into a frown.

"Um...I think I saw some people at the wharf a couple times. They were kissing and touching their penises together. I've seen some of them talking to really pretty women too, and giving them money." He admitted, and Den glanced back at Sketch briefly to see the apprehensiveness on his face. Den wanted to question why he was just standing there and watching, but perhaps he was just protective of his kid, which was admirable, really.

"How would you feel if I said that in order to get into the Domestic Quarter, and to have the money to do so, you'd need to do those sorts of things?" Den continued, gauging the boy's reaction. "You'd be making a better life for you and your father."

"Um..." Rush squirmed in his seat. "Would it hurt?"

"Maybe," Den hummed. "But maybe it wouldn't, too."

"Oh, um....okay." The boy shifted atop the furs and Den watched as he stretched his legs out, spreading them on either side of him to basically show his body off; there was no shame in being naked since it appeared to be so common for Rush, but just the sight alone of the cub willingly allowing access to his intimate parts was arousing to the Kitsune; he could already feel his loins tingling with desire.

"Are you always naked?" Den asked as he lowered his outstretched hand, and Rush in turn withdraw his own tiny fingers. Den brought his gloved hand down and brushed it across the boy's dirty blonde chest before trailing down to his skinny stomach, admiring the way Rush shivered from the touch.

"I have pants for when I go outside, but father says I don't have to wear them at home," Rush explained, completely unashamed, despite Sketch letting out an embarrassed groan. "Dad is usually too."

"I see..." Den hummed. He was listening, of course, but his eyes had long since stuck to the ratman's crotch, and the sight of his delightful little cock. His fingers eventually reached to just above that tiny member, barely an inch long in its flaccid state, before he finally dipped them enough to trail along the length of it, towards the tip. He could feel it twitch just the once under his touch, and it was hard to gauge whether the cub actually wanted it or not. Though Den had every intention of being gentle, the matter of consent didn't mean much when his parent had given permission.

Rush squirmed again and breathed a sigh as Den's fingers slid under the tiny cock and cupped it with a single finger, and out the corner of his eye, Den looked over at Sketch, wondering how he might react. The discomfort in his expression was palpable, but his body language all but confirmed he wouldn't intervene; he was smart, like his son, and knew how much that money would mean for them. Frankly, most people in The Warrens were the same.

"How does it feel, boy?" Den asked casually, slowly curling a thumb around the top of the member and gently stroking from base to tip with his finger and thumb, dragging the foreskin back though not completely over the tip. Rush huffed through his nose and simply nodded, which didn't really indicate much, but it was enough for the Kitsune. He stroked a couple more times before he slowly leant up and reached for his clothes, tugging at the buckle that kept most of his robes around his body. They parted with ease when the belt loosened under the right angle. His toned figure, devoid of ample muscle definition, was quickly revealed as the luxury linen parted completely. More interesting was the lack of pants; the robes had been long enough to reach his shins, so no-one had been none the wiser to his nudity beneath his clothes-- there were no pants or undergarments to keep his sheath and balls covered up, allowing them to be easily exposed to the boy now; he was just kinky like that.

"Woah..." Rush's curiosity outweighed his apprehensiveness and his eyes fixated down on the Kitsune's sheath; perhaps he'd never seen it before, or he simply was just surprised to find he was already naked, but it didn't matter either way. A quick shrug of his shoulders allowed the robes to slip down his arms, exposing himself further, until a flick of his wrists had them falling around his ankles, exposing his completely nakedness.

"Like what you see?" Den half-laughed as he reached towards his wrists, peeling off his gloves as the Ysoki cub scooted back a little, wanting to give him some space. Den used that gap, however, to lean forwards and put his now bare hands to the furs either side of the boy, licking his lips as his gaze hungrily raked across his slim, lithe body. Before continuing much further, Den reached out a hand and took the boy's arm, slowly guiding him to change position. Rush looked uneasy, but it seemed like he was more concerned with the fact his father was watching more than anything else-- speaking of the Ysoki, Sketch stood awkwardly in the corner, still fully dressed, and Den caught him watching but also doing his best to look away, as if he were making sure his kid was okay whilst being too uncomfortable to look more.

All it took was a little adjustment to get Rush to get into his knees lengthways along the furs, so that his palms and knees were protected from the harsh flooring and Den was afforded a much more delightful angle. Rush seemed confused, but he wasn't entirely against whatever Den had in mind, mostly on account of the money, Den assumed. The Kitsune brought his digits to his mouth and slathered them in spit, making sure they were nice and slick before bringing them back down towards the cub's body. Rush looked over his shoulder to see what the man was doing, and he immediately stiffened when those digits delved into the crack of his cheeks, quickly meeting with his young, virgin hole.

"U-Um..." Rush's nerves were obvious and audible, but Den wasn't even phased; this wasn't the first time a cub in his metaphorical had been apprehensive to do things back there. His fingers pressed and smeared, his claws easily slipping into the tight crevice of the 8-year-old's entrance, and with a single middle finger he started to push, slowly easing the digit inside. At first, the hole was resistant, gripping like a vice and quivering as his digit sunk further; Rush let out a squeak and his eyes scrunched up, his ring clenching around the invading finger.

"Does it hurt too much?" Den asked, though he didn't really have much intention of backing off completely, if he could help it. The boy let out some sort of noise, similar to a moan or perhaps a grunt, before he shook his head, looking down at the furs beneath him.

"A little, but...it's okay." He insisted, and the words brought a smile to Den's muzzle, who plunged his fingers deeper and slightly curled them, relishing the way Rush arched his back and spasmed, letting out a shaky moan; even if he felt discomfort, he must have enjoyed it.

"Good boy..." Den murmured, sticking his finger deeper and deeper until it passed the middle finger knuckle and finally reached the base, where the thicker knuckle flexed as he curled his digit, exploring the boy's young, tender insides. Once he was relatively sure that his spit had done the job of slickening the boy up, Den brought his finger back and watched as the cub's ass squeezed around it, clenching tightly as the digit pulled all the way to the claw tip. He withdrew, and the boy breathed a sigh, shuddering ever so slightly.

Knowing he was ready, Den reached down to his crotch. In the time it had taken to finger and lube up the 8-year-old, the Kitsune's cock had swelled from his sheath and grown to a steady full-mast over the course of a minute or two; an above-average, roughly 6 and a half inch knotted cock twitched up and down in the cool wharf air, and he was utterly certain that Sketch had noticed his arousal. He put both hands on the boy's cheeks as Rush turned his head to watch, and the cub's eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of the man's member grinding up and down his cheeks, warning him of what was to come.

"Prepare yourself, boy..." Den sighed, dragging his hips back until the tapering tip of his cock slid down into the crease of the cub's cheeks, meeting with his spit-slickened hole. He nudged and bumped, smearing up and down as he felt that ring spasm around his tip, both resisting and also anticipating him. Across the room, Sketch kept his eyes down, shuffling awkwardly on the spot and willing himself to simply let it happen, for the good of the pair of them. His ears twisted as Den sighed, and Rush's whimpering all but confirmed the Kitsune's penetration; he stuff in deep, sinking the narrowest part of his cock into the ring before the hole stretched to accept more of his turgid cock, much thicker than just a finger.

Den could tell that Rush was struggling; his tight virgin hole must be burning from being stretched to its absolute limit, and his trembling arms and legs made it difficult for him to keep upright, but he did his best. The deeper the cock sank the easier it became, mostly because of the length of the member was almost entirely uniform in shape, save for the tapering end-- his knot, however, was going to be the hardest thing for Rush to take. From Den's experience, most of the cubs he fucked-- for that was his main purpose for hanging around The Warrens once a week-- struggled to take his knot and often he wouldn't be able to tie...he wasn't sure if Rush was going to manage it, but it ultimately didn't matter; that squeezing around every inch of his invading dick, the way he trembled and vibrated around his adult cock, and his whimpers of delight, all served to provide more than enough pleasure to the wealthy fox, who couldn't help but to immediately drag back as soon as his knot kissed that entrance, wanting to move into a steady rhythm already.

"Thats it, just relax...you're doing great, Rush." Den started to slide his hips forwards again as young Ysoki let out a gasp, arching his back and lifting his head, his face scrunched up in a difficult to read expression. Den rolled his head back and sighed, his cock throbbing inside the boy's ass, before a thought dawned on him.

"Would you like to make some more money?" He glanced to Sketch, whose eyes bulged at the thought; 500 gold was already a lot, but more?

"I...how?" He asked tentatively, and Den's gaze snapped back towards Rush, before to his father again.

"Join in," He insisted. "And you'll get another 300."

"What?!" The mere thought along had Sketch feeling and he stepped back on the spot, aghast. "But, he's..."

"Think of your future, Sketch. Don't you want a wonderful life for your son?" Den reminded him, before sliding back again, deliberately making Rush squeak with the sensation as if to alert his father more to the insinuation. Sketch looked apprehensive, but Den wasn't wrong; that kind of money was definitely worth it. Sketch had to take a moment to process the thought, but to Den's delight, he inevitably conceded; the Ysoki slowly stepped over towards his son and the man fucking him, hovering near to where Rush's head was before he reached down to loosen the strap of cord that kept his pants up.

Rush looked up just in time to see his father's abrupt nakedness, but as he'd specified before, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence to see his junk. Den watched as Sketch kicked the pants out from around his feet and slowly lowered himself down, getting into a knelt position and manoeuvring himself until his knees side either side of Rush's lifted her. His gaze met his son's eyes before he wordlessly, with a slightly pained expression, reached down to grab the base of his own humanoid-shaped dick. He was marginally shorter than Den in terms of his endowment, though that was, in part, due to his height being a good 2 feet shorter than the Kitsune's own. Regardless, his lack of erection was obvious, but a slow and tender stroke of his furless fingers steadily made that member grow, much to Rush's shock and surprise. The cub looked up at his father, but Sketch didn't look him in the eyes.

"T...This is for our future. Our future..." The Ysoki mumbled, much to Rush's confusion. The man slowly brought out his hand to cup his son's cheek as his member, roughly at half-mast, twitched up and down, held by the base with his other hand. He angled it upwards towards Rush's muzzle and slowly directed his son down, guiding him to his stiffening member. Rush visibly recoiled but didn't defy his father; the fact he was so obedient made Den's body tingle-- what a good boy he was.

Den pulled back again and was briefly relieved that the hole was a little looser than the first time, which allowed him to lapse into the rhythm he so eagerly desired. The majority of his thrusts were short and fast, wanting to enjoy the entirety of that squeezing hole as much as possible, but his movements were also methodical and gentle-- he had no intention of hurting the cub too much, so with each push forwards he slowed, letting his knot squish and press against the tiny hole, before he pulled back, using his hands for leverage. At the same time, Rush slowly opened his mouth and took his father's cock within him, sliding his muzzle down as the hand on his cheek served to encourage him. Sketch was relatively full mast by that point, his cock still marginally short at 3 and a half inches, but the stoutness of his member allowed his son to take it completely into his mouth, until his pink nose nudged with the fur of his father's pelvis.

The two of them spitroasted the 8-year-old, one of them less willing than the other, yet both felt pleasure regardless. Rush had never sucked a dick before, and never thought that his first would be his dad's cock, but he dutifully did the best he good, wanting to please his father and fulfill his wishes. The most he knew was to keep his teeth out of the way, and that seemed to be enough; Sketch's cock glided easily along the small tongue, towards the back of his throat. The cub's eyes scrunched up and moistened with tears, purely from the reaction of almost gagging alone, and his behind squeezed tightly, his little dick half-hard and swinging between his legs as each thrust from the Kitsune causing his body to jiggle ever so slightly.

Den quietly began to huff heavier and harder, his hips pumping back and forth as his pleasure began to rise. The pre-cum that oozed from the tapering end of his dick helped to lube up his thrusts over time until each hump was wet and audible, though not extremely. Sketch began to moan as well, huffing through his nose as his member was so delightfully pleasured by his own son. Den had no idea of how long it had been since Sketch had last got laid, but from the way he quietly panted, one could assume it was quite a while ago.

"Oooh...that's it, squeeze tighter, Rush...!" Den urged, knowing he was already getting so close; he could feel it in the way his knot throbbed and a tightness formed in his loins, making each aching movement unbearable and filled with pleasure. The more that he bucked his hips, the better it felt, and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. One hand moved from the boy's small little cheek and around towards his hip, curling underneath him so his fingers could dance across that soft stomach and travel lower. His fingers met with the boy's half-limp cock and he gave it a few leisurely strokes with his thumb and finger as he thrust, but he could quickly tell that the boy felt too much discomfort to get more than a little hard...and perhaps there was some performance anxiety in there, especially given what's at stake.

Sketch, meanwhile, was a lot closer than Den was expected. As Rush continued to blow him, he suddenly and abruptly pulled back, letting out a hiss through gritted teeth. Rush was momentarily startled and looked up at his father, before watching with wide-eyes as the older Ysoki grasped his cock firmly in one hand and gave it a few quick and eager pumps, bashing the side of his fist against his pelvis with reckless abandon. He sucked in heavy breaths, overcome with bliss, before he abruptly orgasmed right on his son's face. Thick strings of cum shot forwards in an arc, one splattering unfortunately right across Rush's eye-- he was lucky enough to close his eyes before it landed-- before each twitch thereafter oscillated between an ooze that had no kind of power behind it and a string of seed that painted his kid's face in a myriad of different angles. Sketch's hand stroked to satisfy his pleasure, but beneath all of it was a deep pitiful shame; how could he do this to his own offspring?

Den had slowed to watch what was unfolding, and now that he'd gotten to see Rush blow his father to completion, he decided it was high time he finished as well. He was already so close that it took very little effort to pick up speed and thrust, bringing that same tightening feeling in his loins back, his delight building and his breathing quickened and his heart pounded in his chest. His hand withdrew from the cub's hand back to his hip and he pulled the boy up against his cock, his knot pressing dangerously to that young hole, but no amount of pushing was going to get it inside, not when the cute Ysoki was half his size. He resigned to getting as much as he could out of it, and his hands gripped a little firmer on Rush's ass, causing him to squeeze. The increased tightness was more than enough.

A long and aching sigh escaped Den's muzzle as he leant back and plunged himself as deep as he could, feeling that tickle and telltale shudder that reminded him he'd passed the point of no return. He humped a couple more times, merely massaging his cock in that young hole barely half an inch or so until his knot swelled wider than before and his tapered, vulpine cock throbbed powerfully past that tight ring. Sketch had to watch as Den orgasmed inside his son, taking his virginity and filling his inner walls with pump after pump of manly seed. Beneath him, Rush huffed and hung his head down, his fingers curling against the furs as his tail twisted and flicked, his body shaking from the exertion of their sex and the effort it had taken to just accommodate the cock in the first place. Den delighted in his efforts and his hands loosened around that ass, gently and encouragingly smoothing his fur with his palms.

His orgasm slowly faded, much to his chagrin, and with a groan he pulled back, shivering from the sensitivity of his vulpine cock as the young Ysoki's ass squeezed around his member. He pulled out completely wish a gasp from the cub's throat and the Ysoki leant forwards, his arms giving out from under him. Sketch instinctively caught his son and pulled him up towards his body, cuddling him against his stomach; Rush rolled to the side in response and scooted himself closer, sighing with a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

Nothing could be said between them. Den wasn't about to make a lavish comment about how good of a fuck it was, not when he could tell from Sketch's expression that he was already having doubts-- by extension, Sketch wasn't going to get angry either, not wanting to jeopardize their 'deal'. The Kitsune slowly got to his feet, bending down to grab his robes and belt so he could throw them on, and in barely a handful of seconds he looked as decent as he had been when they first met; his robe was perfectly covering up his body whilst leaving his chest exposed.

"Our deal is done," Den surmised with a brief sigh. "My entourage has been watching me from a distance as we speak-- rest assured, there was no-one watching what transpired in here...but they are ordered to distribute the money to you once I leave."

"How do they know that...um..." Sketch glanced away and Den suppressed a smirk, as best he could.

"They will know," He confirmed. "Pleasure doing business with you, Sketch. Perhaps I'll be lucky enough to find you in the domestic quarter and give you another windfall."

"Y-Yes...thank you, sir." Sketch looked down at his son, and wasn't surprised to find him already asleep on his lap, no doubt utterly exhausted from what had just happened and needing to recuperate from the pain he'd endured-- though he had no way of knowing how much that was, or if it were particularly traumatising for him.

"Good day to you, then." Den offered him a quick and simple bow before he turned on a heel, grinning to himself as he stepped towards the tarp that covered the door. He slipped through and left, leaving Sketch to sit there with his son, mulling over what he had done.

A handful of moments later, what felt like an eternity, a cloaked man entered through the door way. Sketch was momentarily startled and sat there warily for a moment-- the man's face was obscured by his hood and mask, so the Ysoki couldn't even make out his features. The man affixed Sketch and Rush with a gaze for a moment, putting two and two together, before he put a hand into his cloak and pulled out a large sack. He dropped it to the floor and the fastened top loosened, a handful of gold coins spilling out. Soon after, a smaller, yet still large sack joined the first, and Sketch guessed it was the 'additional' amount. The man said nothing more and left, but Sketch caught a glimpse of a tail just like his as the figure disappeared through the flap, leaving them alone in the light of nothing but a lit lantern in the corner.

Regret and shame filled Sketch's mind, but seeing that money broke through the haze and reminded him that things could be different now...all thanks to their mysterious, yet perverted benefactor.