[center][b]Exact Words[/b][/center]

[center]By Kaydrien Iceclaw[/center]



“That’s all?” The new moon would have been shining through the window, except, well, new moon. [i]If[/i] it was shining, the moonbeams would have sailed in through the frame into a dusty attic littered with the usual cardboard boxes, knickknacks, and other assorted junk that the owner can’t bear to get rid of (but never actually uses). They would also have fallen across the circle carved into the floor.

Inscribed with eye-stabbing symbols that shifted and twisted in their own crimson radiance, the circle only served to highlight the nature of its occupant; a female anthro dog. Species and gender were abundantly clear, as she had not a scrap of cloth covering any of her. Her hips followed a honey-sweet curve between her side and knee, generous without being excessive. Taut belly led up to a small but perky pair of breasts, then a slightly less tiny benippled pair above that, and so on for a total of four rows in two neat columns up to her perfectly shaped B-cups. A lovely specimen of a doberman bitch, with midnight black fur and fuschia-tinted patches shading to crimson.

She brought a hand to cover a many-fanged yawn, one ear twitching back under her curled horn before she opened her luminous red eyes on the anxious-looking grey chinchilla in polo shirt and jeans. The chubby male was trying extremely hard not to watch her other hand too closely, poor dear.

“That’s all. I don’t do complicated contracts.” Never stopping her nonchalant masturbation, the bitch fluttered her eyelashes at the man and tweaked one of her top nipples. Just to watch his eyes bulge, fluff poofing out even wider under his shirt.

“I keep my soul right? That’s not… built in, or anything?” Marlon yanked his eyes away from the fingers the hellhound languorously worked in and out of her spade-shaped snatch and counted rafters instead. It didn’t really help: He could still hear the lazy [i]schlick-schlick-schlick[/i].

“I don’t really care about your soul one way or the other, sweet-cheeks. Leave that to status-obsessed meatheads downstairs.” Her voice was sweet and velvety as chocolate sauce and kicked like habanero. “A girl just wants some fun now and then.”

“So… I get to be attractive to girls? And all you want is to, to-“ Marlon blushed adorably. The guy couldn’t finish his sentence.  He was even making an attempt to unobtrusively cover the tenting at his crotch, god bless his tasty heart (she was on better terms with Him Upstairs than most of her ilk, having not so much been ‘cast down for corruption and treachery’ and more ‘moved out as a lifestyle choice’). 

“Like I said: I make you irresistible to mortal women, and in return I get your cock in my mouth.” She repeated her exact words of a moment before, as if utterly indifferent to the way her summoner was working himself up to a full-blown panic attack.

“…I, well, that sounds- If you’re sure you don’t- but the book said-“

“Do you plan on finishing any of those sentences cutie? I can’t hang around all night you know. Got friends coming over for a killer gossip sesh later.” Popping her fingers out of her coal-black fortune cookie the hellhound raised them to lick her own juices off of them. Her tongue braided itself between glazed fingers in tortuous slowness and she winked one glowing eye at the rodent in a way he thought might make his heart give out. “So. We got a deal? I wanna know if I can add ‘pacted with a pretty little fluffmuffin’ to my part.”

“Yes!” Marlon squeaked. Starved for any sort of intimate companionship for… well, ever, if he was going to be totally honest, the chinchilla probably couldn’t have said anything else. Not the way the demoness was looking at him, and not with that tongue on offer. Deal made, the summoning circle flared briefly before dying to nothing.

“Good choice darling.” The drop-dead gorgeous female glided to her feet, stepping one dainty paw over the edge of the scorch marks in the attic floor. Her pointed nose wrinkled at the dust that puffed up to meet it and she sneezed delicately. “You really should tidy up before inviting a lady over though.”

“S-sorry Tzi… Tzeroscr…” He tried to apologize, stammering over the multisyllable monstrosity of the name he’d managed perfectly a few minutes ago during the incantation.

“Just call me Rose, little studmuffin.” This close in the hellhound loomed over the male in question, towering an easy head and a half over his quivering ears. She reached out with the still-damp hand to trace one finger over his cheek, the remains of her brimstone and flowers scent making his nostrils flare and nose twitch. Sweet starlight, he really was adorable. “Or Rosie. I don’t mind.”

Marlon almost choked, his eyes bulging out of his sockets but fixed on the woman touching him. Actually, really touching him! “D-d-do I need to d-do anything or-“

“Just relax.” Rose pulled him to her muzzle. She shut him up by shoving her wide tongue into his mouth, wrapping and twining around his so he couldn’t say anything too stupid to ruin the mood. When she was sure he was too dazed to make a fool of himself, she pulled away, patted him on the head while his eyes uncrossed. Her answer was a purr worthy of any feline. “Let me take care of all the hard work.”

“Sure.” The chinchilla’s answer was much calmer now that she’d overloaded any capacity for shyness.

“Good boy.” She sank to her knees in a motion as smooth as a greased dolphin. Reaching out to his waistband she casually pulled the front open, sending the button of his jeans flying and making his zipper shriek with the speed its teeth parted. If it were a person, it would need dental work. Undeterred, she yanked the wrecked pants down his legs. “Oopsie. It’s fine, I’m sure you didn’t really need those.”

Marlon bobbed his head in agreement with the thoroughly unrepentant apology. A girl was actually within a foot of his crotch. That was way, way more important than the sudden demise of his favorite pair of pants.

“Very good boy.” Rose nuzzled at his hard package through the stressed fabric of his tighty-whiteys. Breathing in his scent through the fabric, she extended the tip of her tongue to lap up the side and especially over the damp spot over the bulge of his tip. Mmm. Virgin pre. Planting a kiss on that precise spot through his underwear, she reached up to the waistband.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.” The rodentine chant of disbelief continued as she sensuously, carefully, stretched the elastic to lift it over his shaft without hooking the tip and pulled it down over his leg fur. He automatically raised one leg to pull it out of pants and briefs alike, then the other.

“There we go. Wouldn’t want those in the way, would we?” Demonic fingers caressed his fluffy balls. Marlon had quite a package on him, hefty sack and a cock that wouldn’t have been out of place on a male Rose’s own size. The pointy rodent model, but thicker than usual. “Thanks for not saying ‘oh god’ instead, by the way. That gets pretty awkward.”

If Marlon had any response to that, it was lost as he shuddered through the first long lap she dragged up the side of his woody. Her rough taste buds pulled across skin previously untouched (by anyone except Marlon, of course). He nearly lost his balance before the demon’s hands steadied him by the hips.

Her tongue swirled around his tip briefly. She would have loved to drag this out, make him squirm and beg and maybe even renegotiate for funsies. Rose never specified he’d get to cum, after all. But that meet-up with the girlfriends was real, and she wasn’t really in the mood to cheat him more than usual. 

Without wasting any more time she opened her jaw to slide it over the cock, wriggling her tongue against the front all the way down. He actually poked up past the back of her taster and she swallowed an inch or so into her throat. Impressive for, in essence, a chubby hamster with extra fluff. If he had some confidence on him they guy probably wouldn’t have needed her help at all.

More fun for Rose.

Through no conscious choice, his hands rose to the curled ramlike horns at the sides of the hellhounds head. Squeaking and panting the chinchilla was losing his mind while his tail curled and uncurled behind him, the beautiful female slurping on his rod.

He didn’t make any particular effort to pull her face down onto his cock. Against her supernatural strength he couldn’t have managed anyway, though she might have let him. A rough facefuck was just good clean fun in her book. On a timetable, she pulled back off while running the rippling motion of her tongue upward and counter to the motion, then plunged back down.

Needless to say Marlon was enjoying himself. The sensation of the bitch wrapping her muzzle around his cock was all kinds of blissful to the sex-starved rodent. Her canine canines were just far enough apart to frame his width, squeezing against his sides over slick spit when she bobbed her head, and the throat that deliberately clutched around his tip whenever he made it that far was as hot as hell. Sharp pants and squeaks alternated through his voice-box while the demoness went to town on his dick.

When the rodent dick started to pulse and pull against the bumpy roof of her mouth Rose knew that Mr. virgin wasn’t going to last long. Not unexpected, a bit disappointing, but on the other hand virgin cream was delicious. She’d take the short weight as a positive.

Shoving her face down until her nose nudged against his belly she dug her tongue into his sheath. That slick tip burrowed around to the sides, picking up the tasty salt of imperfect grooming, while working her throat to swallow around his slick tip and send him right over the edge.

His orgasmic squeak filled the attic as he emptied balls and lungs simultaneously. If the chinchilla wasn’t having the most intense orgasm of his life right now he might have been distressed at how high-pitched and unmanly the sound was, but instead he just pulsed and creamed into the wet, willing, hot mouth sucking him. 

Rose smiled around her mouthful of rodent meat, drinking in the absolutely delightful expression he had, eyes clenched and teeth bared. She paused her rhythmic swallowing to let his salty jets fill up her mouth, savoring the taste. When he finally ran dry she pulled away with a pop and smiled.

Hips, legs, and frankly everything else still quivering, Marlon toppled over onto his backside, attic floorboards creaking under his pudge. Well, mostly fluff. They creaked anyway on principle. “Holy fuck.”

“Mmmyeah. Half right.” Rose took a moment to swish her sticky mouthful then swallow before answering. Her voice was thick, with a little curve to the softer consonants that hadn’t been there before. 

Marlon put it down to a tired tongue, because that blowjob [i]obviously[/i] lasted a long time. His pleasure-gummed internal clock and male ego both agreed on that. Eventually enough of the endorphins drained out of his cerebrum to let him remember that as fucking amazing as the blowie was, it hadn’t been the original point of any of this.

“…So… Girls will be all over me after this right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” The hellhound was looking at nothing in particular a million miles away, seemingly occupied swishing the remains of his release or licking at the inside of her mouth. “Allll over you.”

“Awesome.” Marlon breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to be a virgin loser anymore. Scratch that, he already wasn’t a virgin anymore. But he was going to be a total stud. “I can’t wait to introduce them all to Big M here, if you know what I mean.”

“That does sound nice.” Rose giggled at how quicky the idea of being supernaturally attractive went to the rodent’s head. “So, this bad boy has a name, does he?”

Still drenched in the fuzzy feelings of afterglow and pride, the chinchilla took a few seconds to realize that Rose was not in fact pointing toward his studly crotch. She was, in fact, sticking her tongue out at him. And pointing at it for some reason?

…That wasn’t her tongue. That wasn’t even [i]a[/i] tongue.

He clutched at his crotch protectively, too late, finding that his rock-hardness of a moment ago was inexplicably MIA.

Rose just giggled at his frantic clutching, watching as his hands grabbed at his sheath, then down at his balls. His expression flashed to mild relief to find those still there, then back to the sheath. He squeezed it. Totally empty.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his shock and rising horror. His cartoonishly big eyes and adorably squishable cheeks demanded it.

“What did you do?” He wailed plaintively.

“Your cock, in my mouth. Just what we agreed.” The demon-dog tried running the penis that was standing in for her tongue over one of her long canine teeth seductively, and found that it didn’t really work as well as she liked. Ah well. Sacrifices must be made.

“B-but- but-“ Marlon’s stammer was back. As if to hold on hard to the male parts he still possessed the chinchilla was cradling his balls like his life depended on them. 

“Don’ worry. I’ll ta’e good care of Big M here.” Rose appreciated his self-groping, eyes fixed on the hands running over his large nutsack. It was enough of a turn-on that she could feel ‘Big M’ plumping up in her maw, getting harder to maneuver through proper speech. “Eksidable fella ain’ he?”

“But my dick!” The chinchilla’s wail was truly pitiable; it made Rose want a snack. “It won’t matter if all the babes love me if I can’t do anything with them!”

“It’th nod that bad.” Putting some extra effort in the hellhound could almost get correct pronunciation out of that last bit. Getting to her feet she pulled one arm across her top breasts in a stretch, then shook the kinks out of her neck before assuring him. “You jutht nee’ ta get crea’ive.”

“No!” Marlon’s denial was a full scream now. “Give me back my dick!”

“Nuh-uh. Dealsh a deal.” Rose ignored the distressed rodent getting to his feet, strutting back toward the remains of the summoning circle in the floor. She chatted back casually at him, words struggling around the hardening erection “If yah call me back nexst new moon maybe we can work som’ing ou’ bu’ righ’ now? Ah’m late fo’ girlsh nigh’ in. Sheeya la’er!”

One black hand waved back at him cheerfully, shaft now sticking out well past her teeth. Then, like an Olympic athlete, she made a neat double flip backward into the remains of the portal and slid dick-first into the red glow that opened up for her, bound for a girl’s night in that she was sure to be excellently equipped for. 

Marlon’s dive to catch her before she was gone only slapped his grasping hands against the sooty attic floor that closed over her toes.

[center]***[/center]

A couple hours short of a week later, and the depressed fluffball was making his first trip out of the house. Perhaps a more level-headed rodent, or at least one with fewer anxiety issues, would have gone out for fresh groceries on day two. This other rodent, taking to heart the muffled reassurances of that night of the empty moon, might have simply shrugged and resigned themselves to calling the demoness back in a month and taking whatever bargain she offered to get his maleness back, one-sided though it would certainly be in her favor. 

Marlon was not that rodent. He spent six days holed up in his house, with only the work-from-home duties of a freelance programmer to distract him from how incredibly, totally empty his sheath was. The chinchilla was afraid to even go out, certain that somehow everyone would know he was walking around cockles. That they would laugh and tease and jeer, or worse crush him under the weight of their pity. 

To avoid that he stayed indoors. He tried not to think about how the fuzzy membrane crowning his balls cradled nothing but a smooth patch of skin that featured only his piss-slit.  Learned that he couldn’t relieve himself standing up without making a mess. Spent hours watching trashy TV to take his mind off the ache of his empty, un-empty-able balls. 

On the seventh day, he caught himself wishing that Rose had left her tongue in his missing manhood’s place, so that he at least had something there. He might even be able to make that work. It’d be like dolphins and their movable dicks. Maybe it could even feel good, although it might look pretty damn weird with his urethra studding the tip-

Marlon took a long, hard look at that thought and the preoccupation that had led to it, and came to the conclusion that he had to go out and do [i]something[/i] to take his mind off his emasculation, or he would lose his freaking mind.

So with heart heavy he left his home, went hunting for the remedy a thousand bad detective movies taught him was most appropriate, stumbled into the mahogany-and-chrome styled bar, and opened his mouth to voice his demand.

“Two of whatever will get me drunk fastest, please.”

“Cash up front.” The bartender, a heavyset rhino (but what rhino isn’t), was very used to this sentiment. He gave it no more attention than was due for any such mundane occurrence, only amused that such a little mammal had managed to find an empty stool. It was Friday night, early on a Friday night, but still. “You look like hell.”

“I ought to. I really ought to.” Marlon tossed a couple fifties onto the counter and watched the rhino pull out a couple of shot glasses and uncorked a bottle of rather pretty amber liquid. “Keep them coming until that runs out or I need to be peeled off the floor.”

“Your funeral buddy.” Rolling his eyes the wall of gray skin lined up three more shot glasses upside down as a reminder and went back to polishing the taps. Ten to one he’d have to shovel the fuzzball into his car after just those two. No reason to waste good booze.

The rodent lifted the tiny glass, examining one of the art deco lamps through the warm-colored liquor. It reminded him of a potion of heroism from Blades Online. With any luck, it would prove a cursed draft of forgetfulness instead. Shrugging, he tossed it back into his throat, swallowing fast.

He spent the next few minutes trying to hack up his lungs and poor, abused esophagus.

“Hello. Are you feeling all right?” Marlon turned watering eyes to the source of the question. He nearly jumped out of his skin, arms twitching for an instant toward shielding him from the returned hellbitch, come to claim his balls as well!

Then he realized it was a petite female dachshund. Floppy ears, a little shorter than he was himself, short legs, waist that went on for days, and fully clothed albeit in a daringly low-cut black dress. She only had some pink highlights in her fur to provide a vague resemblance. He turned the defensive motion into an adjustment of his fur.

“I’ve been better.” The rodent admitted mournfully. “Thanks for asking.”

“So sorry to hear that.” She stood on tiptoe to pat him on the shoulder, which made him feel pathetically grateful. “Maybe I could keep you company for a while.”

“That’s all right, thanks.” With more tact than he could possibly have accepted, he brushed her hand off to shake it warmly instead and smiled weakly at the diminutive woman. The last thing he needed was to spend his time sitting next to a pretty woman, conspicuously [i]not[/i] feeling himself get hard, right now. Of all the timing…

His new acquaintance took her grip on his hand and used it to pull him closer, nearly toppling him from the stool he occupied. She pitched her voice low and smooth. “I bet I could help you feel a whole lot better.”

“No, really, I couldn’t!” Marlon tried to insist, accurately. The dachshund had a funny smile on her lips, grabbing him by the chin to examine his face from this angle and that.

This was a totally new experience to Marlon. For that matter, this never happened in movies or games either. He was completely bewildered, uncertain how to respond. Hell, if he’d ever gotten this kind of attention, the chinchilla never would have bothered to perform that summoning.

It hit him: Hell. Summoning. The bargain was still in force. What were Rose’s exact words? ‘I make you irresistible to mortal women, and in return I get your cock in my mouth.’

Wherever the hellhound was, she presumably still had his cock in her mouth. Standing in for her tongue.  Which meant that [i]he[/i] was-

The petite canine interrupted his reasoning by shoving her mouth against his and giving him the second lust-fuelled kiss of his life, this one with less sulfur.

“Oh, I insist.” His new paramour (whether he liked it or not, apparently) breathed huskily, immediately upon pulling away. During the kiss she’d taken the initiative to grab him by the waistband of his tan slacks, and she now bent to deftly undo the fastenings at his crotch.

“Don’t!” Marlon was horrified. Not a very physical person, it never occurred to him to actually reach down and stop her, even if she was small enough that he might be able to. Besides which, the momentum of a hundred hundred fantasies (concocted back when he still had all the parts to act on them) insisted he play along. 

All the while- the full three seconds of it- he dreaded his sudden exposure with all his being. She’d be disgusted! She’d scream, announce his lack to the whole world, or at least that portion of it that currently inhabited the bar. That was still a much larger fraction of the whole world than Marlon was comfortable with.

Not to be dissuaded, this female canine knew what she wanted, mortal or not. In a bizarre reversal of a week ago, once she had his pants open her patience was exhausted; the rip of elastic sounded as a death wail for his destroyed undies. His ‘Eeek’ of discomfort as the material snapped off of him wasn’t any more manly than anything uttered in his attic though.

She dove nose-first into the crotch of the cringing male, snuffling up his pleasantly masculine scent. Only after that did she pull back to look with her eyes. Dogs will be dogs.

Marlon was wound as tight as a spring, certain that at any instant she would recoil from him and expose his secret to the entire world. That he was less than inadequate. Totally lacking.

Imagine his surprise when that didn’t happen. She reached up, poked a long-nailed finger at his sheath, then inside, prodding at the absence of dick, and the scream didn’t come.

“…Is this what you were worried about?” He cracked his eyelids open, looking down at the dark-furred beauty who coyly met his gaze with the calm hazel pools of her irises. She turned those gem-clear eyes down to his package once more, fiddling with the stretchy ring of flesh that no longer surrounded his dick, then squeezing at his hefty ballsack. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of with these bad boys.” 

“Wha?” The eloquent tone of one (1) chinchilla brain, rebooting after catastrophic malfunction. His mouth carried on without it, succeeded in producing something that might pass for a sensible argument. “But. I can’t.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something.” Her cold nose prodded at his fluffy scrotum. She huffed in his musk, lovely and concentrated after a day without showering; Marlon hadn’t been able to face another shower where he’d have to dump out the water collected where his pride and joy used to be. Then she stuck out her tongue and licked up it, up the sheath that compressed as she went, and shoved her wet appendage into the vacant vent.

The object of her lust-addled affection moaned into the suddenly quiet bar. He may not have had the usual centerpiece down there anymore, but the fuzzy foreskin was still very sensitive. And, he discovered, so was the bare patch of flesh he’d been trying to ignore for days.

“Hey Sid. Sorry to bother you, but can you send down an officer? Yeah, it’s early. Got some weirdos getting it on in my bar. Right in front of everybody. Can you…? Right, thanks.” Marlon did not at all hear the bartender making his call to the police station. Marlon did not see the three-dozen other bargoers staring at him and his lapful of feminine bounty. Marlon sure as hell felt the tongue pressed against the inside of his dick-holster.

The chinchilla had never engaged in any sheath-play before now. When he pleasured himself, it was always a plain stroke-fest, centered around his enormous (if you didn’t use a horse for comparison, but that went without saying for most furs) dong, and completely unaware of his own giftedness. He was really starting to wonder if he’d missed something.

Where the generally kerfuffle caused by the spectacle failed to catch his notice against the pull of the wonderful things happening at his crotch, the sudden fall did. Unnoticed by either the blissful chinchilla or his new canine lady-friend, a female boa constrictor of the general naga bodyplan- i.e. no legs- had turned her eyes on them along with the rest of the patrons. Deciding, much like the dachshund before her, that Marlon looked absolutely delightful, the serpent had unceremoniously looped him in a coil of her body and snagged him effortlessly off his stool, leaving the canine woman lapping at thin air.

“You can do a lot better than her, sweetie. Let me show you.” Bending herself around to nuzzle at his lower half the boa took his balls into her mouth easily. She suckled on them comfortably with her distended jaw, humming to send vibrations through the chinchilla’s crotch.

Secured in a few loops of the snake’s body against the floor, the sudden change of position was nevertheless enough to jolt Marlon out of his daze. Fur puffing out where it wasn’t pressed against him by her tight embrace, the rodent stared bug-eyed at the crowd of bar patrons, who stared bug-eyed right back at him. “Uhhh…”

“Sssee, he needs a real woman to work these. Run along, puppy.” Having released his balls long enough to deliver this ultimatum, the snake-woman’s words were assured and possessive. The bitch who had been cheerfully delving around in Marlon’s sheath growled back menacingly.

“Uh, girls, can we please take this somewhere else?” The worried chinchilla pleaded. This really was too public a place for this, what with the eyeballs pointed his direction quite possibly outweighing his rodentine body. 

The women took no notice whatsoever.

“I’m sure he likes me better than some flat-chested nope-rope.” Snarled the dachshund. She stalked forward on stubby legs, ripping off her dress and pulling her panties free as she went (to catcalls and wolfwhistles of some of the bar’s male patrons). Toenails clicking and pawpads padding against the hardwood floor, she stepped around the chinchilla’s lower body, over his head, and dropped herself down to plant her rear right on his face.

Tail wagging, she ground her puffy sex over Marlon’s face. She was wet and dripping with arousal after the incredibly hot experience of licking around in this total hottie’s sheath, warm and musky and tasting wonderfully male after days of so-so grooming by a guy who didn’t really want to think about it.

Marlon made an abortive attempt to struggle out from under the women, but the boa’s grip was too strong and the dachshund’s weight too insistent as she humped at his nose, soaking the fur of his face with her juices. “Come on, stud. Your sexy mug is enough to get me off all on its own, but I want your tongue in me.”

Since he was faced by the prospect of literally drowning in pussy if he kept his mouth closed as she ground over his nostrils, and because he was getting nearly everything he ever wanted even if he did have more of an audience than he hoped, the chinchilla acquiesced to the inevitable and spread his lips. Poking timidly up at the swollen fortune cookie of the dog on his face, he got his first-ever taste of pussy.

“I’m sure this stud of ours wants to ssssee what a real woman can do.” Though incredibly turned on by the mouthful of balls, which was a need not every guy could sate for her with her wide-opening jaws, the boa wanted to move on for the moment. She wanted the sexy beast she had by the arms and ribs to be squirming and thrashing in her grip. That he wasn’t the type she usually considered attractive didn’t cross her mind at all.

The snake drew her face up to nuzzle at the slack sheath, looking inside herself to confirm. That was strange. Not even one dick, let alone two nice hemipenes, but… she could work with it. Jaw opening wide the reptilian female extended her slim forked tongue into the gap. 

Annoyed that the dog had gotten first taste of this magnificent male, she had to content herself with flicking up canine drool along with any tastes of chinchilla she managed, but that was quite enough. He was heady, better than she would expect of a mammal. And she caught a hint of something else in there… Ah. Yes. Right there.

Just because his cock was gone, that didn’t mean any of the rest of Marlon’s plumbing had stopped working. In his arousal and stimulation he’d exuded a few droplets of his own precum to mingle with the dog-woman’s saliva. Once his glands were over the initial confusion of the first aggressive flirting at the bar, they had set to enthusiastically lube up an organ that was no longer present and accounted for.

As a reptile of refined tastes, the boa appreciated this. Her tongue flicked in and out to get at every bit of male essence she could, swiping away another trickle right from the tap as her ‘prey’ moaned into the snatch of her ‘rival’. The dog could keep his top end, for now.

Meanwhile, Marlon was trying to learn cunnilingus 101 under the severe handicap of the distracting attentions paid to his groin. He was having to substitute a lot of enthusiasm for technique, but he did at least know (courtesy of a lot of porn) that females liked their clit to be worked on. The dachshund above him was grinding into his face too frantically for him to find it by either sight or touch.

Thoroughly befuddled, the male had given up on escaping from either of the sex-crazed females fixated on him, and could only hope he’d survive the experience.

In between glancing up at the half-pint hussy monopolizing her newest crush’s face, delving back to his piss-slit to get at more of his copious male nectar, and pulling off his pants to get a view of more of the chinchilla stud, the boa woman was beginning to wonder about the best way to get herself off. 

If this glorious avatar of fluffy manliness- and pretty damned adorable little guy to boot- had something to match the size of his tasty sheath, that would be easy enough. With no way to fit pants, virtually everyone on her general body plan got away with only tops. And with their functional openings so much farther along their tail than anyone with legs seemed to think, it would have been ridiculous anyway. That being the case her reptilian vent, a foot away from the end of her tail, was oozing arousal onto the floor, against which she had been mindlessly rubbing it while she ate out the empty pouch for his pre.

She was just beginning to contemplate the option of shoving it in the dachshund’s panting face until her muzzle slipped right inside (something about this guy had her really hot and bothered, no question), when a timid squeak interrupted her thoughts.

“Sorry. But… Can I join?” A mouse girl even shorter than the dog riding Marlon’s face with an expression of bliss had crept up to the rutting trio. Kneeled down between his legs, the tiny woman was blushing furiously. Less forward than the other two females the mouse, with her black-flecked white fur, had seen the chinchilla first but been too shy to approach immediately. Watching the others go to town on him had her soaking through her own panties by the time the boa had snatched him, and now the need to do [i]something[/i] had overwhelmed her reticence. “He’s just so… so…”

The boa was just about to tell her to go find her own man-candy, but the moan from behind her- Marlon had managed to latch onto the dachshund’s clit at last and was working it for all he was worth- made her stop and rethink. Well. At least the little morsel had the manners to ask before snatching the hottest man in the bar. “Do you have a name, little mouse?”

“Kynthia.” The mouse squeaked almost too low to be heard over the general cacophony that the bar had become. Strongly weighted toward the male sex, some of the other patrons had filed out minutes ago when the public display of affection had expanded to three participants, but most had stayed to spectate. Some were urging the threesome on, others ignored it in favor of their drinks, and more than a few had found subtlety to rub at themselves stealthily or gall to do so openly.

“Well Kynthia, I’m Beatrice. And I’ve got dibsss on his sheath.” Beatrice believed in establishing claims on territory hard so she only had to do it once. Her wicked grin made the murine object of her attention shrink in on herself even as the snake lightened her tone. “But you can share his ballsss if you want. And there’s sssomething you can do to help him along.”

“What?” Though weighed down by the instinctual terror of the large snake’s regard, and more aware of their audience than any of the other three splayed out on the hardwood floor, eagerness for anything to do with the male shone through in her tone.

Beatrice smirked, and lifted up the chinchilla’s plus-size balls. The innocent little Kynthia stared blankly for almost ten seconds before she realized that there was only one thing the snake could possibly be pointing out to her: The chinchilla’s sweaty pucker.

“Oh my.” Turning almost neon red, Kynthia made a lot of connections very quickly. She’d never done anything like that. Never done anything at all with anyone, male or female. Possibly, she would never have considered such a thing without Marlon’s newly acquired aura of desirability to drive her to it.

Then again, it’s always the quiet ones.

Leaving the little female to make up her own mind, or not, about the possibilities just glimpsed, Beatrice let the heavy sack drop back into place with a plop and redirected her attention to slurping out every droplet of delicious pre that had accumulated in Marlon’s sheath. She hadn’t forgotten her own need, but that could wait until she cleared some of the backup of saltiness, and she’d gotten an idea while turning around to answer Kynthia’s initial plea.

Marlon had too much going on right now to notice the conversation going on around his back end, and in any case had too much bouncing bitchy backside blocking his view to make any sense of it if he had. It was only another little pause in the attention being lavished to the inside of his bereft cockholster. The attention down there, coupled with the face full of canine rear, were driving him absolutely wild. His bare, sheltered patch of skin wasn’t quite as sensitive as his cock had been, but it was a whole lot less used to the attention. And the knowledge that it was being worked by what he had to consider a pretty damn attractive female was a thrill on top of that. He was fairly certain he could cum this way, and the slow build-up was dragging him into greater excitement about it than ever before.

For the first time in a week, or most of his life even, Marlon was beginning to feel pretty good about his sex life.

Still completely unaware that two women whose names he didn’t even know had become three women of which he could have known two names, if his ears weren’t pressed flat against his skull by the thighs of the third, he kept his attention on the clit bearing down into his mouth. The chinchilla was beginning to get a system down in which he’d delve deep into the bulging vagina pressing him, then lick and nibble at the clit he’d located in the topmost corner of her canine muff.

“Ooooh, yeah.” The dachshund, who incidentally was named Debra, shuddered atop him. She squeezed her studmuffin’s head hard between her legs, gushing over his face. The cessation of licks and nibbles displeased her however. “Don’t stop, hot stuff. That wasn’t the big one.”

[i]Big one?[/i] Marlon thought wildly. He hadn’t even stopped because of her ‘little’ orgasm, though he drank down her juices hungrily. They were clearing the last of the alcoholic burn from his throat. The real reason he stopped was the sudden nibbling at his balls and thumping pressure against the long, luxuriant fur of his tail. What the hell was going on down there?

‘Going’ on was that Kynthia had gathered her nerve, and was taking the opportunity to get her first taste of a male. She licked at the huge balls, marveling at how much bigger they were than anything she had imagined from the safety of her own bedroom. Just as aroused by Marlon’s scent and taste and… well, everything, she had found herself humping his soft, silky tail. 

Though as tasty as those nuts were the small woman couldn’t fit them in her mouth the way Beatrice had. And besides; the glimpse she had been offered of what lay beneath tantalized her. It was so naughty. Dirty. Hot.

When the thought had tempted her beyond endurance Kynthia hesitantly nosed at the cleft between his balls, settled as they were on either side of his tailbase. Wedging her pointed snout under those two pendulous weights, she got her first schnozzfull of the potent sweaty concentrate of chinchilla musk. Chinchillas may not be particularly known for their heavy scent but Kynthia had her nostrils pressed right up under Marlon’s family jewels, in the close dark airless space inches from his tailhole. 

And Marlon, as has been noted, hadn’t showered this morning. Marlon had been sitting in his own anxiety-sweat, tainted by the hormonal buildup of too many days without a good nut and nothing to do about it. Marlon’s distilled male scent handily convinced the innocent shut-in Kynthia that the scent of a horny guy was the sexiest thing in existence.

Eyes rolling back in her skull and eyelids fluttering she huffed the intense miasma that was all there was to breath under the heavy chinchilla balls. She crammed one hand down her pants to finger herself frantically; as nice as humping against his tail was, she needed more under the influence of her new drug. And calmed slightly by doing something about her own pleasure, she returned soon enough to the idea of pleasing him.

Pushing forward she burrowed under his remaining male parts, finding her way by touch. Closer and closer she came to a different texture in the smell of stud chinchilla, pink nose rooting around in the dark, until she bumped into a little unfurred circle that twitched at the contact. Sighing in satisfaction, Kynthia pressed her tongue out to lap up the salty sweat.

She lovingly traced over every wrinkle of the male’s anus, warm excitement rising higher in her middle at the pleasured grunt she got for her pains. Driven on by his obvious approval, she shoved inward, wanting to taste every flavor his body could produce.

Just above her the bemused Beatrice was humming in approval at Kynthia’s exploits. Originally she had just wanted the little mouse out of her way, but her excuse about encouraging their male on was turning out to be quite true. Whatever the fuzzy white snack (/snacc) was doing under there, it definitely had the chinchilla’s attention, and it was easily causing him to drip salty nectar faster than under her ministrations alone. As for her own pleasure, the boa had directed some of her focus away from her continued oral ministrations to maneuver the end of her tail around. 

Without releasing her body’s grip on Marlon’s middle, her tailtip swung downward, crawling it over his balls (and thus pressing them harder into Kynthia’s skull, to her ecstasy) and down his legs. Her glistening cloaca left a smear in the silky fur of his legs, finally reaching his ankles. Without ever pulling her forked tongue out of the sheath she was nursing at she ground her vent against his pink-skinned feet, and with some experimentation, eventually plunged his toe into her. 

Increasing the force increment by increment in serpentine patience she worked his lower digits into the oozing entrance at her end, managing to get a rather alarming amount of his foot into her. It was good. As good as anything else she’d ever put back there. And Beatrice was liking the challenge of the maneuver.

Marlon had given up on understanding. He was swimming in a sea of pleasure, or maybe given how he was bound by the boa woman’s coils he was being keelhauled in it. Covered in babes, nothing at his crotch to shove into any of them, and he really didn’t care anymore about that last part. This experience was fucking awesome and he wouldn’t trade it for his cock back at twice the size, not if he was to decide right this moment. The tongues in his sheath and ass felt amazing, the cunt variously in, on, and around his mouth was meaty and satisfying, and the wet clenching on his toes- Okay he had no idea what was up with that, but he’d accept it as part of the package.

Determined to give as good as he was getting, the chinchilla was lapping frantically at the dog-woman still humping his face when the snake down at his crotch got impatient. No longer content with the ever-increasing trickle of precum, Beatrice decided to go right for the source: She took advantage of the slimness of her pointed tongue to slip [i]in[/i] to the lucky male’s piss-slit, teasing around inside the unexplored duct. That was enough to send Marlon right over the edge into orgasm city.

Screaming his bliss to the world (albeit thoroughly muffled by the dachshund occupying his mouth) his balls started unloading a week worth of chinchilla cream, pumping shot after shot for Beatrice to flick up greedily. She couldn’t keep up. 

The aura of supernatural attractiveness making everything about him attractive according to the inclinations and tastes of the ladies applied if anything more to his release than his other qualities. His orgasm set off the climaxes of all three females.

Debra’s ‘big one’ absolutely drenched his face and plastered all the fur of his head down. Beatrice experienced her release as a kind of pulse that traveled up her length from her tailtip, squeezing first his toes and then the various parts of his middle and upper body as it travelled. Kynthia lost control of her hips and humped frantically against his tail, the floor, and the hand of which she still had two fingers buried in her mousy snatch in time with the tightening of his asshole around her tongue.

Beatrice eventually came up for air, keeping the mouthful of white cum in her mouth to enjoy its saltiness. Marlon might still be gushing more of his load into the empty space where his cock used to be, with the excess drooling out over the top of his nutsack, but the snake had gotten enough. For now.

Generously deciding to share the wealth she pulled his scrotum aside again, hauled up the dazed Kynthia by the nape of her neck and pulled the smaller woman into a kiss. After the mouse caught up enough to realize the source of the sticky saltiness filling her kisser’s mouth she ravenously kissed back, partly to drink in as much of the cum as possible and partly in residual horniness. The act sent aftershocks of orgasm through her, soaking the crotch of her pants even more thoroughly.

At Marlon’s other end Debra was standing stiff in place like a funny, short-legged guardian statue, eyes glazed and tongue hanging out of her mouth. Slowly her form leaned over, following the call of gravity until she flopped to the floor on her side, one leg splayed out into midair and dripping fortune-cookie steaming in the air.

Marlon, stuck on autopilot, was still shuddering through the surfeit of sex. His lungs heaved to pull in fresh oxygen now that he could actually get it, and his eyes refocused on the barroom. He was suddenly aware, he and his female companions had become the live entertainment.

“Yo. Brandon. These them?” That was the obvious cop standing in the doorway, addressing the bartender. The rhinoceros only nodded, polishing a glass beer mug.

“Well.” The bull in blue stepped forward. “If this doesn’t look like a lucky lil’ fella. Y’all are under arrest for public indecency and prob’ly about three other things. Gonna have to take you four back to the station to cool off a bit. No worries, just don’t want you disturbing these fine folk’s drinking.”

About half of those ‘fine folks’ were trying to look as if they hadn’t soiled their own underwear from watching the floor show. And, in one case that Marlon could see from his vantage point on the floor, the underside of the table at their booth.

As the cop pulled some cuffs from the back of his belt, Debra quivered catatonic on the hardwood floor, and the other two women swapped spit and the taste of chinchilla bodily fluids, Marlon wondered if there were any women on the town police force. He thought he might like a woman in uniform.

[center]***[/center]

“You want what?” Tzeroscrenai- Rose for short- wasn’t surprised very often. The demonic bitch (and quite proud of it, thank you very much) made a point of being surprisable, because forever was a very long time without surprises; but it was still pretty strange to have two surprises of this magnitude right on top of one another.

For one, her first summoning of the new moon hadn’t been by a distraught chinchilla guy begging for his dick back. Odds are she’d have given it to him too, in multiple possible senses of that phrase, without any particular complaint. At a steep discount even, because the fluffball was absolutely adorable. Rose wasn’t the sort to hang onto these things after the new wore off.

In any case Marlon wasn’t her first call of the month. She could shrug that off easily enough. He wouldn’t have been the first to belatedly grow some common sense and swear off occult dealings forever. Failing that, she didn’t make a habit of deals that a flexible mortal couldn’t work their way around to at least tolerate. Enjoy, even, if they wrap their heads around them. Rose just hadn’t had the rodent nerd pegged for that sort of mental gymnastics, or good sense.

“I want to be attractive to guys.” The second surprise was that the girl who’d called her up instead, a rather demurely dressed chick of a bluebird, was asking for almost exactly what Marlon had. Usually she had to work her way through posers looking for a little mystique, tawdry wishes for material wealth, or revenge against some jerk/ex/boss between the [i]fun[/i] requests.

Okay, that first category could be pretty fun. Put on the old charm, blow their goth little minds, and howl off into the night to paint the town red.

The other ones though? Fuck’s sake, if you’re petty enough for something as stupid as revenge and too lazy to key their fuckin’ car yourself, you deserve to get screwed over six ways from Sunday. Anyone looking for actual justice or sensible career tips didn’t call Tzeroscrenai. Their loss. 

The demon’s zig-zagging mind returned to the present: This one looked like fun. A bit bland, maybe. Rose knew just what to do about that though.

“How about this then, sweetie: You’ll get the hot guys, no problem there. They’ll find you irresistible. In exchange, I get to watch you with the first three… And you’ll take my cock.”

“…But aren’t you, um?” The bird quirked an eyebrow in confusion. She pointed toward Rose’s plump black cooch, occupied by two of the demon’s fingers.

Rose winked and opened her mouth, letting Big M slide out between her jaws and harden, pulsing eagerly in the muggy air of the garage. After girl’s night, she’d had to admit Marlon’s junk deserved the title. Quite usable for speech after the first week of practice, too.

“…Oh my.” The amateur summoner’s blush burned hot enough to turn her feathered face purple. “I… I’ll try.”

“Believe me, you’ll handle this just fine.” Rose didn’t make any guarantees about the guys she’d watch the feathery little femme stuffing with Big M later. That would totally ruin the surprise.

The demoness chuckled as she rose to put the moves on the cute avian, harboring no worries. Marlon had her number. If he called the hellhound again, she knew a guy who could hook him up. Real custom work too. And if the fluffball demanded the original, well… Rose could always tell him just where to look.



[center]The End[/center]