The white glare of the midday sun beat down on the rough, hard packed dirt below his feet. Flickertail sighed, his heart heavy. A pitchfork clutched in his dirty black paws, he halfheartedly prodded at the chipping soil. His arms were thick with corded muscle, biceps swelling with each movement of his broad shoulders. Many were the village girls who would watch the fox from afar, dreaming of being taken up in those very arms. But, to Flickertail, there was only one fox who met his gaze, one spry vulpine he longed for. 

“Brightpaw,” he sighed and lifted his floppy, brown hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

How his heart had grown heavy since the disappearance of the other fox. He could still remember the bright flicker of a bushy tail, the grin on his lips. Brightpaw clutched an old map in his fist, brimming with energy. 

“It’s a treasure map, Flickertail,” he cried. “And I’m going to find it.”

Flickertail’s mouth grew hard, recalling the cheery gleam in the fox’s eye. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he had said. 

But, Brightpaw had laughed him off, saying, “Aw, you sound like old Grimclaw now. 

“The elders know best,” he had replied. He pleaded for the little fox to stay, but in the end, Brightpaw had vanished. 

Alone, he raked at the soil, his heart in his ankles. 

“Say, son,” came a gravelly voice. 

He looked up from his reverie to see the old fox, Grimclaw, leaning on the wobbling beam of a split-rail fence. 

“You look a little down,” the old fox muttered. “Something on your mind?”

“Brightpaw,” said Flickertail in a low whisper. “He’s been gone so long and no one has gone to search for him.”

“Bah,” barked the old fox. “Served him right, if you ask me. He was a no good layabout anyway. Always running off on some wild adventure.”

Flickertail turned his gaze on the old fox, his yellow eyes blazing. “Well, who asked you?” He threw his pitchfork to the dust and stormed from the field. 

“You were better off,” he heard the old fox shouting behind him. “Find yourself someone better than that one.”

Flickertail stomped home, his eyes blurry with tears. No one understood Brightpaw like him, no one. He tossed his hat to the grass and ran towards the small shed which leaned against his house. He flung back the rickety door and entered, coming back out with a lantern in his fist. 

“I’ll find you,” he whispered. “Just wait, Brightpaw.”

His padded feet tread the same dirt path as Brightpaw, the trail leading to him to the familiar entrance of the old cave. A thick tangle of vegetation hung down over the algae encrusted stone. The fox carefully pulled back the hanging weeds, his lantern throwing a pale ring of wobbling light upon the forgotten stone. 

“I’m coming,” called to the dim tunnels. He stepped forth, boldly entering the unknown. Darkness lay before him, the tiny glimmer of the fading sun behind him, disappearing into the shadows. “Just hang on,” he cried. “Oh, I pray that nothing has happened to him.”

[center]***[/center]

But, the fate of Brightpaw lay in the clutches of a monster. Hard, cruel claws seized him, drawing him to her. Brightpaw’s eyes grew wide, seeing nothing but the utter blackness of the deep, old cave. A steady drip echoed from the distant tunnels, carrying the hollow sound all around him, like the beating of his own heart. His clawed fingers raised themselves in a weary defense, pitfully striking out at the broad, scaly chest. He grasped her muscular forearms, tendons like spring steel in his palms. His belly ached, swollen with the squirming life which the beast had continued to fill him with again and again. His bloat breasts, leaking their thin trickle of fresh, warm milk, sagged atop his pregnant belly. His lips grazed the familiar, soft flesh of the monster’s offered teat. Brightpaw gave a tiny mewl and opened his trembling lips. 

The little fox embraced the beast. His arms around her powerful neck. Her four breasts pressed against him, his mouth suckling the hanging teat. The scent of copper and the tang of ammonia, reptilian in their odor, had alerted the little fox of her presence. Always would she come, her voice a melodious lilt in the utter darkness of his home. Once, in the dim corners of his memory, Brightpaw could remember a different home. A village of foxes, bright with the morning sun. But now, this was his everything and he embraced it with the heartiness in which he embraced his lover and captor. His tongue flicked out from between his black lips, lapping the erect bud of the monster’s breast. He stabbed the nipple, swirling around the smooth, bumpy areola, relishing the tangy sweat of the beast. The monster’s powerful body rumbled with the deep moans of contentment which bubbled up from her chest. 

“Mmm, my little fox,” Darkfang purred. “You treat me so well.”

Brightpaw plucked his lips from her breast, seeking the scaly flesh of her collarbone. Darkfang lowered her hands, sliding down to the fox’s wide, round hips. His belly, swollen to the size of twins, pressed into her muscled stomach, his unborn lashing out in protest. His flesh bubbled, writhing with the rambunctious movements of his latest brood, spurring the fox into a dizzying elation. Brightpaw moaned, filling the chalice of Darkfang’s collarbone. His shivering cock slipped forth from its sheath to stand erect in the cool, dampness of the cave. He claimed her throat, ascending, conquering the expanse of scaly hide. The beast laughed now, her hands moving up his back, tilting him backwards that Brightpaw may at last come to meet her lips in a kiss which would steal the very breath from the little fox. 

Soft leathery lips claimed his mouth, encircling his lips in hers. Her tongue, forked like a serpent’s, darted from between her lips, slipping along his fangs, eager to find a way into his wet, warm mouth. Brightpaw’s jaws parted, the creature struck. Her tongue curled around his own, writhing and twisting. She explored his mouth, like red silk stretched beneath a string of white pearls. She pulled back, caressing the fox’s palate, making Brightpaw quiver with giddy delight. His nostrils flared, puffing with excited breaths. His heart pounded, begging for her to take him. His cock wept the shimmering bitter tears of his lust, his flower blooming, wet and ready, eager to receive his lover’s throbbing manhood. 

The beast plucked her lips from his swollen mouth, leaving Brightpaw to whimper in protest. 

“Now now,” said the monster. Her red eyes glowed fiercely in the gloom. The only sight which the little fox had seen since his ill fated adventure were those two orbs, glowing like hot coals. “A good boy does not beg.” A chuckle escaped from her throat, echoing softly on the limestone and granite. “Are you a good boy?”

She leaned close, her breath whispering into his ear. Brightpaw shivered, ripples of delight like an electric thrill racing up his spine. 

“Are you [i]my[/i] good boy?” Her tongue slithered into his ear, swirling around inside the canal, lapping at the furry lobe. 

“Y-Yes,” moaned Brightpaw. “I’m a good boy.”

Darkfang laid him gently upon the damp, spongy earth, his legs wide, knees to his pregnant belly. His ass wobbled, fattened with maternal padding, the cleft between his cheeks a deep ravine, seeping with the warm, sweet nectar of his lust. The scent of his desires inflamed her senses, enticing the monster. Her cock rose, springing up like a serpent. A throbbing rod of black flesh, studded with protrusions of bone and tipped with a venomous head of velvety smoothness. Such allure could not be resisted and the fiend knew it. Her heavy breasts, their nipples erect and hard, glided along the curve of Brightpaw’s gravid belly, the unborn within him writhing below his flesh. 

“So lively,” Darkfang remarked. 

Her claw fell atop his belly, tracing around the distended navel. Brightpaw whimpered softly, his tail wagging as the monster’s claws raked through his delicate fur. Darkfang placed her lips to his belly, her tongue drawing a wet, slippery trail up the swell of his stomach, journeying to his heaving breasts. A black nipple dared to protrude through the snowy fur, rising up in defiance of the beast. Darkfang’s lips curled, her fangs slipping from her gums. She lowered herself, claiming her jiggling prize. Her mouth engulfed the little fox’s breast, surrounding his heaving flesh with her wet warmth. Her tongue wrapped around that defiant nipple, tugging and plucking, savoring the sweetness of his milk. Brightpaw wrapped his arms around her powerful neck, drawing her to him. Darkfang murmured a small chuckle, drinking deeply of the little fox. Her cock throbbed, her belly simmering with the hot need to claim Brightpaw. The milk of the fox had driven her into a frenzy. The heat bloomed on her scaly cheeks, her chest growing tight. 

She ripped her mouth from his leaking breast, plunging recklessly between those heaving mounds to drink in his scent. The sweetness of milk and the sour odor of his sweat filled her nostrils. Her head swam, her body grew light and tingly, warmth suffusing her mighty limbs. She was drunk, she could tell. Intoxicated on the aching need of this little fox and his fertile promise. Her cock wept, leaking its bitter tears to stain the floor of the old, forgotten cave. Darkfang panted, her breath wheezing in the darkness. Shaking claws seized Brightpaw’s hips, fat with their ample maternal padding. The little fox squealed, his heart leaping into his throat as scaly lips wrapped around his trembling manhood. Her tongue slithered along his plump undershaft, lapping at the bitter precum which oozed from his trembling spear. Up, she rose, closing around his satiny tip. Her tongue swirled, flicking, pressing, before she fell crashing into his tangled pubic fur. 

“Ungh, Darkfang,” Brightpaw moaned. “I-I’ve been good. So good.”

“So you have,” laughed the beast. Her lips came free with a wet smack. “Mmm, and good boys deserve a reward.” 

Brightpaw attempted to sit up, but found himself thwarted by his gravid belly. “Oh, yes,” he whined. “Oh please!”
Those familiar claws seized him, dragging him upright to kneel before his mistress. Her hot, throbbing rod pressed to his nose, the scents swimming into his nostrils. The metallic odor of copper, the tang of ammonia, the bitter smell of shimmering precum, like a heady wine to tantalize his palate. The little fox planted his lips to her bumpy cock, kissing the hot, engorged flesh. 

“Come now,” said Darkfang. “I’ve given my good boy a reward. Does he not want it?”

A gasp came from the little fox. “N-No, Darkfang,” he pleaded. “I want it! I really do!”

“Then, why do you not take it?” the beast asked. 

“I will,” squeaked Brightpaw. “I’m a good boy.” 

His fingers curled around the throbbing shaft, bringing the spongy head to his lips. His tongue slid from his mouth, lapping the sticky stream flowing precum which oozed from her bubbling tip. The bitter taste played across his tongue, filling his head with a dizzying warmth. Swaying gently, he wrapped his lips around her cock, his tongue swirling around the velvety tip while his clever fingers traversed the knobby expanse of her cock. Up, down, he stroked harder, faster, never slowing, his tongue lashed at her tip, curling and slurping. Above him, the beast rumbled, her legs shaking. Brightpaw plunged, his nose crashing into her pelvis. Scaly flesh rubbed at his nostrils, for the beast had no pubic hair to speak of, and the fox pulled back. His tongue slid along the ridges of her bony shaft, delighting in the hard protuberances and the hot, firm skin. 

He pulled back, then came plunging once more. Harder, his lips closed around her rod, milking her. Darkfang sighed, her claws on his cheeks, drawing him down, down, now back up, guiding him into dizzying elation. 

“More,” the monster pleaded. “M-More, little one. Oh, your reward is coming.”

Her balls hung like fattened cantaloupes from her vein studded scrotum. Massive orbs of churning seed which filled the space between her muscled thighs. Though he had never witnessed their glory, Brightpaw’s fingers had struck out, feeling the ripe tautness of her flesh, the churning of those magnificent orbs and their fertile temptations. His belly ached with the desire, the need, to gulp that thick ambrosia. His tongue probed her gaping urethra as if it alone could coax forth the monster’s gift. The creature collapsed above him, only by sheer force of will did Darkfang manage to keep on her feet. She teetered, coming to fall upon her knees. The little fox rolled onto his back, his belly thrust to the ceiling. Her claws came to rest on his gravid stomach, her hips bucking gently, The itch to release came, burning with the need to erupt into Brightpaw’s waiting mouth. 

“Ha… Ha… I can’t hold out,” moaned Darkfang. “S-Such a good boy you are. You will receive a very big reward indeed.”
Her hips bucked, slamming deep, plunging down the fox’s throat, locking her to him. Her cock burst, flooding her hot seed into Brightpaw’s belly. Heat suffused his stomach, his skin stretching, growing ripe with fresh expansion as his lover pumped another sticky strand down his gullet. Brightpaw drank, gulping with a frantic relish, as if he were imbibing the very nectar of the gods themselves. His belly lurched, unable to contain the bitter elixir any longer. Semen spurted from between his lips, splattering in sticky strings along his matted cheeks. Still, the little fox continued to suckle the only food which he had consumed since he found himself held captive within this dank prison, gorging himself on the sweet honey of his love. 

Darkfang pulled away, a single, ropy strand hung between them, connecting them in a perversion of love. Below her, Brightpaw whimpered in protest, begging for her seed. 

“No no, little one,” she chuckled. “We must spare some, for the other one.” She patted his belly.

Her cock shivered, erect and masterful, not yet ready to surrender. Below her, the little fox groaned, his hands on his swollen, hard, belly. His face was a grimace of agonized delight for despite the pains rippling through his overfilled stomach, he yet craved the venomous touch of the monster. His unborn moved, shifting under his flesh, sinking lower, clawing at the gate of his womb. 

“Not yet,” whispered the fiend, placing her hand on his belly. “Not yet.”

The life within him stopped, as if listening to her command. Brightpaw sighed, rolled onto his side. His breasts flopped onto the floor of the cave, his belly distended before him. He struggled to rise onto his hands and knees, but could not find the strength. 

“My good boy,” the monster laughed. 

She took him by the hips, lifting him onto his knees. The little fox raised his tail, opening his buttocks to the monster. With each birth, his cheeks had grown, filling into a pillowy ripeness, wobbling as two succulent fruits preparing to burst. Darkfang lowered her muzzle, her hot breath on his ass. Brightpaw moaned, his thighs spreading. Juices trickled between his cheeks, his flower dripping with the sweet nectar of his desire. The monster cupped his buttocks, her thumbs entering the quivering ravine. Carefully, so as not to bruise a single petal, she opened him, splitting his flabby cheeks wide to reveal the slackened ring of his gaping anus. There was no resistance now. He was ready, so very ready. Brightpaw shivered, his heart pounding. Darkfang plunged, inhaling the rich musk of her love, the bitter tang of sweat and the fertile delight which was to come. Her lips met his slackened anus, kissing deep, her tongue plummeting down his rectum to lap his trembling prostate. 

“O-Oh,” groaned Brightpaw. His belly clenched, sending his unborn into a frantic bevy of kicks, pummeling his kidneys. The little fox would ignore the pain, his mind a cloud of intoxicating pleasure. 

Darkfang pulled back, sliding up his smooth rectum, swirling around his shivering ring, to plunge down once more. Deeper, she trekked as Brightpaw had trekked down into her lonely domain. She scoured that forbidden glade, tasting of the elixir of life, lapping the dew from the fountain of Brightpaw’s essence. The little fox screeched into the gloom, shrieking his love until his very throat became raw and scratchy. 

“D-Darkfang,” he wailed. “Darkfang, yes. I’ve been so good!”

His cock throbbed, spurting shimmering precum into the clay. 

“Oh, please,” he screamed. “Please reward me.”

Darkfang tore her hungry mouth from his ass, his juices running freely down his inner thigh to mat his fur. With the back of her scaly hand, she wiped the fox’s essence from her lips. Her cock throbbed, commanding her to thrust herself deep into this yielding vulpine. 

“We must feed our young,” she said softly. 

The spongy head of her cock pressed against Brightpaw’s ring, the fox giving a tiny whimper as his flesh began to stretch. 

“Hush now,” Darkfang whispered. “I will be gentle, my little fox.”

She bucked her hips, pressing deeper, her cock slid effortlessly down Brightpaw’s slick tunnel, crashing into the gates of his womb. Her tip nudged his prostate, the fox howling. She pulled back, the bony protrusions of her cock working against his flesh, tingling and caressing, spurring his need to take her harder, deeper. His womb would have surrendered, had it been empty, giving itself to her so that she may plant her seed deep. Now, the fox moaned, pushing back, slamming his ass into her pubic bone. Her spear plunged, crashing into his trembling gland, crushing his leaking prostate until stars burst in the fox’s eyes. Brightpaw arched his back, his hips swiveling, rotating. With Darkfang clutching his hips, he rocked himself into her, drawing her deeper. Darkfang plunged, allowing herself to be guided by Brightpaw. 

“You are so eager,” she panted. “I love it.”

Bright paw turned his head, craning his neck to gaze into those baleful orbs. Those glowing embers which filled him with such terror, now made him long for the monster’s touch. His body surrendered to her long ago, now his mind too, did give in. He could no longer remember his village, the foxes who lived there. Neighbors, friends, family, he could see nothing more than blurry images. A map, a cave, all was as a dream to him now. Now, there was only the dark and the warmth of scaled flesh. The heavy thrill of pregnancy and the agonizing glee of birth. 

He rocked harder, faster, growing more intense. Darkfang too did quicken, slamming faster. The raw slap of bare flesh resounded in the deep, the echoes carrying up the abandoned tunnels. Her balls churned, drawing up to her pelvis, begging for release. 

“I must…” she grunted. Her claws dug into Brightpaw’s hips until the little fox gave a yelp. “I must…” A trickle of saliva dribbled down her chin. “I must give myself.”

She slammed hard, locking into the fox’s ass with a final heave. Her belly clenched and with a final sobbing cry, she released. A torrent of bubbling seed flowed into Brightpaw, lapped up by his hungry womb. The life within him shifted, as if to take in the succulent nourishment of the monster’s semen. Brightpaw collapsed to the floor of the cave, his hot face seeking the coolness of the damp clay. His hips continued to buck, drawing forth every last drop of Darkfang’s precious seed. 

“Such a good boy,” the monster said. “Get it all, now.”

She shivered, another ropy strand splattering his womb. Brightpaw claimed her, taking all of her until his belly could hold no more. As before, semen spurted from his battered flower, seeping down his thighs to mat his fur. Darkfang pulled her softening member from his stretched and bruised flower, pausing only to kiss his gaping bloom. Brightpaw rolled to his side, struggling for breath. His belly had grown, bloating to the size of triplets. The monster’s seed swam within him, gurgling softly and he could only pray that it would quicken, blessing his fecund womb with another horror with which to please his monstrous love. 

He opened his weary eyes, seeing the glowing embers of Darkfang towering above him. He held no terror for those gleaming orbs, not any more. He raised a trembling paw, which was gently caught in the hand of the fiend. 

“My good boy,” the monster said. “I’m so very proud of you.”

“I love you, Darkfang,” Brightpaw chirped. 

“I know you do,” she replied.