The sun floated down on the city streets, an aura of warmth and comfort. With birds playing in the trees and an industrious sense of peace hanging in the air, Arty trotted happily down the sidewalk, his loose blue shirt trailing slightly in the breeze with each step. A foilist’s mask slung under one arm betrayed his business, returning from training with his fencing coach, but even without the mask, his supple, delicate form revealed his nature. A gymnast’s figure. The smooth, unblemished skin of his exposed forearms and calves caught the fading afternoon light, where it shone through his soft cinnamon fur.

In that soft light, against the concrete of the city, Arty glowed like a beacon. A beacon that had been readily spotted by a watching hunter. Cabo snorted as he watched from an alleyway up ahead, leaning against an old dumpster and dragging on the dying embers of a cigarette. “I swear, these kids get more perfect every time,” the worn boar grunted. His yellowing tanktop clung to his belly with each sigh as he stared wistfully at the ambling fox cub. “Well, time to get to work.”

As the boy walked by, Cabo put the usual plan in to motion. With a subtle stumbling motion, the hulking brown boar knocked the dummy phone from it’s resting place atop the dumpster, sending it clattering to the floor. “Damnit…” mumbled Cabo, as he began to roughly grunt and bend to pick up the phone, exaggerating his discomfort with a wince. “Oh, don’t worry sir, I’ll get that for you!” chirped Arty. With the ease of youth, the young cub deftly knelt down and picked up the phone, passing it politely to the grunting figure in the alleyway. “Thanks, kid. I owe you one. My back’s not what it used to be,” smiled Cabo, taking the phone gratefully. In the moment, their eyes connected, and Cabo fell into those round, smiling eyes. “Man,” thought Cabo, “he’s even cuter that I thought.”

As he stood, Arty stumbled and dropped his mask on to the rough concrete sidewalk, the fine, smooth metal skittering and grazing along its surface. In a sudden panic, the schoolboy ran to his gear and snatched it up, running his eyes along the buckled surface in terror. It didn’t take long for great, wet tears to begin forming in his glistening innocent eyes. “No, no, no! Mom’ll kill me!” he bawled, reaching inside the mask and making a futile attempt to reverse the deep dent in the front of the mask. “Gotcha now,” thought Cabo.

“Hey, hey, kid, it’s alright. My workshop’s right here. Pass it over. It’s just a little dent. I can fix that, no problem!” grinned Cabo, taking the mask in his hands with a warm, firm grasp. For an instant, as he took the mask, his rough workman’s hands brushed delicately against the child’s pianist fingers. The fatherly comfort of that brief contact sent a shiver up the cub’s spine, his fur standing on end as calm returned to him. “You… you’re sure, sir? I’m supposed to be home pretty soon,” whimpered the fox cub, tears still drying on his cheeks. “Honestly kid, it’ll take five minutes with the vice. Come on, I ain’t gonna steal your fancy helmet, I’ll show you,” grunted Cabo, still smiling ear to ear. Without looking back, Cabo spun around and headed deeper into the alleyway. Cabo knew he had won his prize when he heard (after just a moment’s hesitation) the gentle pap, pap, pap of the cub’s feet behind him on the concrete. Cabo reached back until he could feel the soft fur of the boy’s shoulder, and gently steered him along his side, until his huge, rough hand came to rest gently at the small of Arty’s back. Again, a shiver ran through the cub, and this time, it was answered with a shiver from Cabo.

About 30 feet down the alley, Cabo stopped next to a grimy steel door that jutted a foot into the brickwork of the neighbouring building. The grizzled, thick-set man glanced up and down the alley to make sure he wasn’t being watched, then took a heavy steel keyring from his belt and unlocked the metal door with a rasping clunk. As it swung open and Cabo stepped over the threshold and into the waiting gloom. For a moment, Arty hesitated, before the gentle pressure of Cabo’s meaty hand gave him the courage to follow the boar in to the dingy room beyond.

“Take a seat, kid!” bellowed Cabo, punctuating the order with a friendly pat on the cub’s shoulder. The boar motioned to a chair in the dim light of the single bulb dangling from the ceiling. Arty nervously took contents of the room in as he sat down; rows of tools lined the walled, accompanied by workbenches and seats. Various gadgets and bits of scrap metal lined the benches.

“I-is… is your phone ok, sir?” stuttered the small boy, still ignorant to his plight. “Ah, that old thing’ll be fine,” chuckled Cabo, dumping the old phone on a counter top along with Arty’s fencing mask. “If you want to help out though, I know something you can do…” purred the boar, warmth and honey lingering in his drawling voice. With a smooth, practiced motion, Cabo reached up, eyes locked with the adorable cub boy, and pulled off his sweat-stained wifebeater, before putting an arm warmly on the cub’s shoulder and pushing the musk-heavy cloth into the boy’s face.

Darkness.

When he awoke, Arty was strapped down with leather belts to a sturdy wooden table, his arms and legs splayed wide. “Mmmf… mff?” he whimpered, eyes darting around in fear. The smell of musk and body odour filled the little cub’s nostrils, like alcoholic fumes, and he realised the boar’s stinking tanktop was stuffed in his mouth. “Shh, kid. It’ll all make sense soon. I’ve got you.” From the darkness, Cabo stepped out. His sight landing on a small pile of clothes neatly folded on a nearby desk, Arty suddenly realised his nudity. As he continued to protest, the cub began to gag slightly against the stench. “Shh… shh… it’s ok, I’m here for you.”

As the little cub struggled, Cabo began to strip off, beginning his ritual. Arty’s eyes widened as the boar pulled off his pants, revealing a thick, chubby cock which began to harden. Cabo rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry kid, I ain’t gonna hurt ‘ya,” said Cabo, his manhood swelling at the sight of the struggling, helpless child. “This is going to feel… really good.”

The boar kicked a leg up on to the restraint table and straddled the young cub, the warmth of his taint riding against the boy’s smooth, delicate tummy. Cabo eased up, supporting himself on his legs just enough that he wasn’t knocking the wind out of his victim with his weight. Reaching a hand back, Arty’s captor could feel the young boy’s rapidly hardening member. “Ohoh, already feeling it, huh?” smiled the boar, as he began to grind his sweaty crotch against his victim’s perfectly soft fur.

Arty’s heart rate was rapidly climbing, as he began to realise the danger he was in. Yet, despite the terror of his situation and the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a new sensation began to creep upon him; the scent of the boar’s musk, pouring from the cloth still stuffed in his throat and filling his nostrils with the scent of… man, and the scent of lust. His little cocklet was getting harder and harder, and had already slipped out of his fluffy sheath, as the boar had gratefully noticed.

“Mmmf… mm!” struggled the fox, pulling against his restraints. “Shhhhh, not long now, sweetness,” grunted Cabo, leaning down and dragging his tongue wetly against the boy’s face. “Here, this should help,” he muttered, pushing a steamy armpit against the cub’s struggling face. In a sweeping moment of madness, Arty almost understood what was happening to him, the weight of the boar’s filthy cock pressing against his delicate chest. He felt his mind begin to shudder, begin to both clear and fill all at once, like the static on an old television. Precum began to dribble from the tip of his boycock.

“That’s right, just let go. Drift away, and let it take you, like slipping into a hot bath,” grunted Cabo, grinding harder and harder, pushing his sweaty asshole against the boy’s belly button while drooling precum across his pink, fresh nipples. The scent wafted up into the the boy’s mouth and nose, deepening the insane, primal high. The fear of being taken and subjugated by this pervert only served to deepen the terrorized buzz, his little balls twitching, asshole clenching against the sensory overload. Grease and sweat began to matt the little cub’s tummyfur, and the fluff began to cling together against the moisture.

Slowly, by inches, the boy’s gagging gave way against the musk, and became moaning. His skin began to tingle and his body began to shudder. What was happening to him? He was too young to understand lust, but gradually, fear gave way to an urge, a desire. The desire for more. More of this smell, this defeat, this collapse of control. His mind was full of fuzz, and his genitals tingled in a way he’d never felt before.

It didn’t take long for the chaos and nausea to tip the cub boy over the edge, and he began to convulse in the throws of his first orgasm, struggling and straining against the leather straps binding him to the table, his shadow shivering as his fir tingled and rippled with pleasure. “Yeah, fucking take it! Become it! Become part of me…” grunted Cabo, and his own climax overtook him, spraying hot, sticky boar cum across the little boy’s face. The new smell of his new owner’s pleasure sent Arty over the edge once again, his little cock twitching and bouncing in the throws of orgasm.

As Cabo wound down, he clumsily reached a couple of fingers into Arty’s mouth and pulled away the stinky, musky tank top. “So, you still wanna go home, cub?” chuckled the heaving, sweaty boar. “M… mm…” whimpered the cub, barely cogent. “What was that, son? Say it for daddy, now.”

“M… more… please…” muttered the cub from sticky lips, pleading from a pit he didn’t know was within him. “Please… more…” he cried out, locking eyes with his new master. “With pleasure,” Cabo chuckled. “Get ready now.”

With a smooth motion, Cabo slid forward, spreading ass sweat and musk across the boy’s fur, finally sliding his taint across the little boy’s face. To Cabo’s surprise, he felt the cub’s tongue glance across his asshole, hungrily searching for that mind-altering, all-consuming scent. “Oh, you really want it, huh?” the boar mused, sliding back and freeing the boy’s face from his taint, the cub gasping, sucking at the air hungrily for more of the deep, erotic warmth of his captor.

“Alright, then take it!” Cabo settled back against Arty’s tummy and leaned forward, his dripping cock drooling across the boy’s chest, and pushed one sweaty, matted breast against the boy’s face. Almost instinctively, gasping for the stolen pleasure, Arty latched on to the musky nipple and began to suckle. “Aughhhhhhh, yess,” hissed the boar, his asshole flexing against the boy’s belly, feeling his milk, his essence, being taken up and accepted with the hungry, desperate suckling of his new convert, every slurp sending shocks of pleasure through Cabo’s body, straight to his twitching, leaking cock.

Within moments, a tingling warmth began to spread over Arty’s body, unlike the one he’d felt before. As the hot, primal titmilk flooded the boy’s throat, he felt his mind finally give in, utterly shattering in submission to his new father, his pleasure daddy. All fear gone, he suckled more and more at the boar’s breast, Cabo grunting with every swallow. The mammilian flavour began to sink its claws into Arty’s submissive brain, and another climax rocketed through his body, and then another. For the first time, cum began to shoot from his little boy cock, painting Cabo’s back, who grunted in appreciative pleasure from the hot, fresh smearing.

The tingling in Arty’s body began to change, and though he couldn’t see what was happening, Cabo could. The overload of hormones and musk and pure fucking lust had driven roots deep into the fox boy’s being, and he had begun to sprout tufts of strangely wirey pubic fur around his pits. Cabo felt a tickle at his crack, and glanced back to see similar fluff growing from above the boy’s genitals, spreading around and down his foxballs. Spunk continued to pour from his little cock, dribbling and pooling down his nuts, thickening and drooling on to the table. Where the wiry pubic hairs began to sprout, a gentle burning, tingling sensation tickled across the cub’s skin, before spreading out like waves on a beach.

As the waves spread, splashing out, up from his little cock and across his belly, the cub laughed at the carnal tickle. Cabo began to feel his ass spread ever so slightly, as the cub’s tummy bulged and stretched into a protruding beer belly, tufts of pubescant hair snaking up towards his navel. Then, the boar felt a movement around his sweaty, heavy balls, which until now had been gently resting on the cub’s diaphram. As the transformation continued, the little boy began to grow soft, silky tits, with that signature masculine droop. A couple of beads of fresh milk dribbled from the cub’s nipples, trickling down to mingle with Cabo’s ball sweat. Another tickle against Cabo’s asscrack alerted him to the suddenly bulging, heavy cock that had replaced the boy’s little dick, balls awesomely heavy against his delicate frame, cock weighty and drooling through the foreskin.

“Brain… feel funny…” giggled Arty, still shuddering and jumping against the ricochets of mindless pleasure shooting through his body, all worry burned away. Those words of true, deep submission, intermingled with the intoxicating scent of Arty’s musk wafting from his body, up into the boar’s brain, caused Cabo to grunt and cry out, spraying thick, hormone-laden ropes of hot cum across the little boy’s body, grinding his taint deeper against his victim’s stomach. The boy laughed some more, his mind fully broken, further climaxes endless crashing over him like a beach, his body flushed and twitching.

With a couple of deep sighs, Cabo caught his breath and heaved himself off of his new convert, observing his handywork, a trickle of boar milk drooling from Arty’s slack, joyous lips. The kid was a wreck, dripping with sweat and semen and lust, a goofy grin playing across his lips, his eyes wildly rolling in their sockets from the all-consuming drug of both Cabo’s musk, and now his own. Even without the close presence of Cabo’s pheromones, the boy was gone, utterly lost to his new-found pleasures, fighting against the restraints. “W-Want… more…” burbled the child, giggling against the milk and ropes of cum playing against his lips.

“Oh don’t worry, kid. You’ll get as much as you want, and then some,” smiled Cabo, who had taken up an old clamshell phone from a nearby desk. Flipping it open and hitting a speed-dial number, the sweaty, sticky boar raised the phone to his ear, his eyes still playing over Arty’s innocent, ruined form. The boy’s hole was twitching violently, despite being untouched. Almost as if he knew what was coming for him.

“Hey Vicky?” grunted Cabo down the phone. “Yeah, got another one for pick up. He’s a real cutie, too.” As he spoke, the boar ran a finger across the boy’s shuddering body and licked up a couple of strands of boy cum. “Yeah, he’s ready. Very ready. Practically clawing at the walls, bless him. I’d get him a fresh cub to work on. He taken it, and now he’s begging to give it. He’ll wanna share this, alright. Ok, I’ll see you soon.”

With that, Cabo flipped the phone shut and smiled, eyes running across the beautiful boy’s trembling form. “You want more, son? More’s coming. We’re gonna have a lot of fun.”

Arty smiled, knowing more of that intoxicating smell and taste and feeling was coming, and passed out into the white noise of his pleasure.