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"https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/1764/1764402_SkaterYena_butterfox-lick-colored.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_large_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/1764/1764402_SkaterYena_butterfox-lick-colored_noncustom.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_medium_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/1764/1764402_SkaterYena_butterfox-lick-colored_noncustom.jpg", "submission_right_thumb_medium_noncustom_x": "120", "submission_right_thumb_medium_noncustom_y": "78", "submission_right_thumb_large_noncustom_x": "200", "submission_right_thumb_large_noncustom_y": "129", "submission_right_thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "300", "submission_right_thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "194" } ], "description": "Looks like Buttercup and that Fox (From Watership Down the series) are starting to become mates ^^\n\nDrawing done by Me\nStory written by a good friend of mine.\n\nThe next part of the series:\n\nhttps://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=1261300\n\nThe previous part of the series:\n\nhttps://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=1252741\n\nEnjoy ^^\n\n\n[b]Arrangement[/b]\n\nThe warren was unusually quiet. The sun had just set and now it was time. The fox had been sighted again and everybody knew what that meant. It had been a surprisingly long time since its last 'visit' and some had even wondered, in more hopeful moments, if it had forgotten them or perhaps met a dire fate in the cold snows of midwinter. But this seemed not to be the case. Once again their chief rabbit set out, to do her duty and protect the warren. Nobody looked at her as she finally made her way up to the surface, nor greeted her as she passed. She had been lucky so far; but there was a good chance, as always, that she would not be returning.\n\n\n* * *\n\nButtercup made her way through the hedge maze that both surrounded and protected her warren. An unusual construct of man, none had any idea why they had made it. Certainly it could not be for the sake of rabbits, though they took full advantage of it. The fox had been seen in the usual place, north of the maze as far from the homes of man as possible, where the hedge maze ended, turned to fields and then to forest. In summer days it was an expanse of soft green and shady trees. Now in winter moonlight it was bleached, covered in snow, bare trees sticking up into the sky like the bones of forests.\n\nThere were obvious tracks here, the snow preserving them perfectly. The strange thin footprints of birds criss-crossed the white expanse, as did the small trails of mice and the more recognizable pawprints of her fellow rabbits. But most ominously were the large, loping tracks left by the fox as it had calmly moved across the open space. The tracks were deep, even and straight. This was not an animal alert for danger, one that had to scamper and scurry. No, this was a creature who [b]caused[/b] scampering, who feared nothing, or at least nothing it couldn't easily spot.\n\nShe smelled him far, far before she saw him. Rabbits had an insult, [i]embleer[/i], meaning to stink like a fox. He was upwind, the scent carrying on the gentle night breeze, noticeable even from such a great distance. Used to the cold as she was Buttercup nonetheless shivered as she picked up the trail. It wasn't natural for a rabbit to head towards an elil. Every instinct inside her urged her to turn back, to run. But she would be easy, far too easy to follow. This was the way things had to be done, this was the arrangement that kept everyone safe.\n\nThe fox was standing under a small corpse of bushes when she spotted him at last; hidden in the shadows cast by the wiry, twisting branches. He watched the rabbit approach in utter stilness, as always, only the sound of paws on snow breaking the empty silence of the night. She stopped when she was just a few feet away, close enough to pick out every detail of the creature in the dim moonlight. The pointed muzzle, the staring green eyes, the flow and grain of rusty fur. This was always the hardest part, forcing herself forward against her very nature. It was one thing to avoid a fox, another to track one, but an entirely different experience to approach one this close. \n\nThere would be no warning at this range, just a pounce and death. That was the risk she took; that this time things would go awry, that hunger and the natural order would assert themselves and she would never make her return. But it was a risk that she needed to take so that others would not have to. It was her duty as chief. And as she slowly moved closer she knew that she would make her return, this time.\n\nThe fox did not move, he simply stood, stock still and watching her with those mysterious, piercing eyes as he did every time. There was no crouching, no preparation for a pounce, no shifting to prepare for a chase, it was almost as if she wasn't even there. The closer she got the stronger the fox's scent became, overpowering everything else around her, drawing her focus. In her mind something primal screamed and urged flight, but she boldly pressed onwards, the arrangement held. She knew what she had to do and it was something she had done before.\n\nNow she was mere inches away, so close she could have reached out and touched a foreleg if she had wanted. Then she was beneath the fox, moving slowly, calmly and purposefully. This close she could feel the warmth coming from the larger body, could hear the slow, deep breathing, almost [i]see[/i]the overpowering musk in the air. Just ahead of her something large and thick twitched expectantly in the cold night air. There was a feeling of tension, a calm anticipation. Willing her heartbeat to slow Buttercup moved forward the last few inches.\n\nThe fox was large enough that when she sat beneath him only her ears stuck up enough to brush against the fur of his stomach. By holding them back against her head she could sit comfortably upright. The fox's member was just so slightly out of reach now, twitching with every hot breath she exhaled onto it. Slowly she reached up with both paws and grasped the bulbous base, feeling a spasm move through it and the fox as her cold, snow-soaked paws made contact with warm, yielding flesh. Ever so gently she angled the throbbing shaft downwards, better positioning it in front of her.\n\nShutting her eyes she took one last deep breath of the warm, slightly humid air, letting the fox's scent wash over her. Opening her mouth slowly she moved forward, taking the tip of the cock into herself. She heard a faint gasp and felt the male's body jump slightly as she did so. The first step taken she pressed forward, opening wider and ambitiously taking as much of the length as she could. This time she felt the fox shudder and buck as she negotiated a rhythm. She suckled softly at first, evaluating the size and length of the somewhat familiar maleness. Satisfied, she gulped down hard and began lapping vigorously in a smooth, precise motion. She could hear the fox's breathing grow deeper and harsher underpinning her own rapid pace as she breathed through her nose, her mouth squeezing and tugging at the yielding flesh again and again.\n\nShe tried to move her head as little as possible, avoiding having the large member press too deep into her throat, instead scooping carefully along the shaft with her tongue. Although she could fit only a little of the oversized member in her muzzle, she knew how to use her tongue and darted it forward and backward along the whole shaft, angling her head, even withdrawing or moving off of the tip, managing at times to press almost against his knot. With her eyes closed and ears flattened submissively, totally focused she would sense the pleasure arcing through the larger male and knew that it would not take long for her task to be completed.\n\nSuddenly the fox shifted position, falling down onto his forelegs, leaving only his rear end up. Buttercup felt a pressure on her back as the fox's lowered chest pressed against it. This was new, and slightly worrying. Seconds later the fox moved again, and she could both feel and hear his hot breath behind her. He had tucked his muzzle beneath his chest and it was now brushing against her tail, which twitched and flicked as a set of whskers tapped against it, the fox sniffing rapidly, inhaling [i]her[/i] scent.\n\nShe gasped as something warm and rough extended, brushing wetly beneath her tail and rubbing against her. The fox's tongue withdrew then, seconds later, repeated the action, lapping slowly and sensually beneath her tail, tasting and exploring her. The heat and friction began to stimulate her, making her lean forwards slightly and raise her rump. The fox continued, the hot wet tongue dipping between her legs and lapping up under her tail again and again.\n\nAs the stimulation continued Buttercup found herself getting more and more aroused and eager, her instincts slowly urning a necessary task into an erotic experience. Her movements began to speed, her throat relaxed and opened, and she found herself suckling loudly under her mate on about half of his exposed maleness. As they both became more enthusiastic she made tight, quick strokes with her tongue, bobbing her head occasionally. Her relatively small muzzle was crammed completely full of throbbing fox meat, as she tried both to present herself and remain upright enough not to slip off the thick cock. With no other way to breathe, she was forced to inhale and exhale loudly through her nose in irregular huffs. \"Slicks\" and \"schillpps\" and other lusty sounds filled the air. For his part the fox was almost growling now, deep, guttural sounds interrupted only by those of wet lapping, struggling to maintain his position without simply falling into the snow.\n\nButtercup came first, much to her surprise. Her body twitched and shuddered and she almost fell over, the fox continuing on relentlessly, his own hips twitching, pressure building. Shortly after he too started ejaculating wildly, catching the distracted bunny by surprise. Her mouth filled up quickly even though she instinctively swallowed as fast as she could. The sheer volume of hot, sticky fluid was too great and a moment later she was forced to back off, coughing and choking on the massive amount of fox seed filling her mouth and throat and even leaking from her nose. This didn't stop the vulpine climax and the many following spurts of hot liquid aggressively painted her face and chest. There was little she could do but back off and close her eyes as the warmth spread over her, seemingly unending.\n\nAbout a minute later the fox got, shakily, to his feet. Buttercup took the chance to hop out from beneath him and wipe some of the viscous seed from her face with her paws. The fox, still panting heavily, tongue extended, was trailing an arc of silvery cum, his penis still twitching somewhat floppily and flinging the thick liquid onto the snow as the strange red shaft softened and faded back into its sheath. Buttercup began to wash herself off, rubbing against the snow and licking herself clean, trying to remove both the fox cum and scent from herself. When, a few minutes later, she glanced back at the fox he was once again standing stock still, watching her with an inscrutable expression. They stared at each other for a long time in silence before the fox slowly padded off, back into the forest from where he had come.\n\nIt would still take some time, and a bit of snow, to get completely clean. The scent of fox, and mating clung to her, soaked into her skin. One she could disguise, the other she could not. But once again Buttercup had met a fox and survived, a feat few rabbits could boast. The warren was safe again, for now.\n\n\n* * *\n\nIt was nearing sunrise when the chief rabbit returned, cold, wet and smelling strongly of fox. She had survived. There was a sense of relief and joy in the warren as the news spread silently through looks and expressions from rabbit to rabbit. The fox would not return, at least not for a week, maybe more. Once again danger had been averted.\n\nNobody talked to her as she made her way back to her burrow, or congratulated her on her success. They especially did not ask her what she had done. Nobody knew how she managed to outwit and defeat such a dangerous foe and she was not willing to tell them. Perhaps she felt it a secret best kept hidden.\n\n\n\n", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Looks like Buttercup and that Fox (From Watership Down the series) are starting to become mates ^^

Drawing done by Me
Story written by a good friend of mine.

The next part of the series:

https://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=1261300

The previous part of the series:

https://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=1252741

Enjoy ^^


Arrangement

The warren was unusually quiet. The sun had just set and now it was time. The fox had been sighted again and everybody knew what that meant. It had been a surprisingly long time since its last 'visit' and some had even wondered, in more hopeful moments, if it had forgotten them or perhaps met a dire fate in the cold snows of midwinter. But this seemed not to be the case. Once again their chief rabbit set out, to do her duty and protect the warren. Nobody looked at her as she finally made her way up to the surface, nor greeted her as she passed. She had been lucky so far; but there was a good chance, as always, that she would not be returning.


* * *

Buttercup made her way through the hedge maze that both surrounded and protected her warren. An unusual construct of man, none had any idea why they had made it. Certainly it could not be for the sake of rabbits, though they took full advantage of it. The fox had been seen in the usual place, north of the maze as far from the homes of man as possible, where the hedge maze ended, turned to fields and then to forest. In summer days it was an expanse of soft green and shady trees. Now in winter moonlight it was bleached, covered in snow, bare trees sticking up into the sky like the bones of forests.

There were obvious tracks here, the snow preserving them perfectly. The strange thin footprints of birds criss-crossed the white expanse, as did the small trails of mice and the more recognizable pawprints of her fellow rabbits. But most ominously were the large, loping tracks left by the fox as it had calmly moved across the open space. The tracks were deep, even and straight. This was not an animal alert for danger, one that had to scamper and scurry. No, this was a creature who caused scampering, who feared nothing, or at least nothing it couldn't easily spot.

She smelled him far, far before she saw him. Rabbits had an insult, embleer, meaning to stink like a fox. He was upwind, the scent carrying on the gentle night breeze, noticeable even from such a great distance. Used to the cold as she was Buttercup nonetheless shivered as she picked up the trail. It wasn't natural for a rabbit to head towards an elil. Every instinct inside her urged her to turn back, to run. But she would be easy, far too easy to follow. This was the way things had to be done, this was the arrangement that kept everyone safe.

The fox was standing under a small corpse of bushes when she spotted him at last; hidden in the shadows cast by the wiry, twisting branches. He watched the rabbit approach in utter stilness, as always, only the sound of paws on snow breaking the empty silence of the night. She stopped when she was just a few feet away, close enough to pick out every detail of the creature in the dim moonlight. The pointed muzzle, the staring green eyes, the flow and grain of rusty fur. This was always the hardest part, forcing herself forward against her very nature. It was one thing to avoid a fox, another to track one, but an entirely different experience to approach one this close.

There would be no warning at this range, just a pounce and death. That was the risk she took; that this time things would go awry, that hunger and the natural order would assert themselves and she would never make her return. But it was a risk that she needed to take so that others would not have to. It was her duty as chief. And as she slowly moved closer she knew that she would make her return, this time.

The fox did not move, he simply stood, stock still and watching her with those mysterious, piercing eyes as he did every time. There was no crouching, no preparation for a pounce, no shifting to prepare for a chase, it was almost as if she wasn't even there. The closer she got the stronger the fox's scent became, overpowering everything else around her, drawing her focus. In her mind something primal screamed and urged flight, but she boldly pressed onwards, the arrangement held. She knew what she had to do and it was something she had done before.

Now she was mere inches away, so close she could have reached out and touched a foreleg if she had wanted. Then she was beneath the fox, moving slowly, calmly and purposefully. This close she could feel the warmth coming from the larger body, could hear the slow, deep breathing, almost seethe overpowering musk in the air. Just ahead of her something large and thick twitched expectantly in the cold night air. There was a feeling of tension, a calm anticipation. Willing her heartbeat to slow Buttercup moved forward the last few inches.

The fox was large enough that when she sat beneath him only her ears stuck up enough to brush against the fur of his stomach. By holding them back against her head she could sit comfortably upright. The fox's member was just so slightly out of reach now, twitching with every hot breath she exhaled onto it. Slowly she reached up with both paws and grasped the bulbous base, feeling a spasm move through it and the fox as her cold, snow-soaked paws made contact with warm, yielding flesh. Ever so gently she angled the throbbing shaft downwards, better positioning it in front of her.

Shutting her eyes she took one last deep breath of the warm, slightly humid air, letting the fox's scent wash over her. Opening her mouth slowly she moved forward, taking the tip of the cock into herself. She heard a faint gasp and felt the male's body jump slightly as she did so. The first step taken she pressed forward, opening wider and ambitiously taking as much of the length as she could. This time she felt the fox shudder and buck as she negotiated a rhythm. She suckled softly at first, evaluating the size and length of the somewhat familiar maleness. Satisfied, she gulped down hard and began lapping vigorously in a smooth, precise motion. She could hear the fox's breathing grow deeper and harsher underpinning her own rapid pace as she breathed through her nose, her mouth squeezing and tugging at the yielding flesh again and again.

She tried to move her head as little as possible, avoiding having the large member press too deep into her throat, instead scooping carefully along the shaft with her tongue. Although she could fit only a little of the oversized member in her muzzle, she knew how to use her tongue and darted it forward and backward along the whole shaft, angling her head, even withdrawing or moving off of the tip, managing at times to press almost against his knot. With her eyes closed and ears flattened submissively, totally focused she would sense the pleasure arcing through the larger male and knew that it would not take long for her task to be completed.

Suddenly the fox shifted position, falling down onto his forelegs, leaving only his rear end up. Buttercup felt a pressure on her back as the fox's lowered chest pressed against it. This was new, and slightly worrying. Seconds later the fox moved again, and she could both feel and hear his hot breath behind her. He had tucked his muzzle beneath his chest and it was now brushing against her tail, which twitched and flicked as a set of whskers tapped against it, the fox sniffing rapidly, inhaling her scent.

She gasped as something warm and rough extended, brushing wetly beneath her tail and rubbing against her. The fox's tongue withdrew then, seconds later, repeated the action, lapping slowly and sensually beneath her tail, tasting and exploring her. The heat and friction began to stimulate her, making her lean forwards slightly and raise her rump. The fox continued, the hot wet tongue dipping between her legs and lapping up under her tail again and again.

As the stimulation continued Buttercup found herself getting more and more aroused and eager, her instincts slowly urning a necessary task into an erotic experience. Her movements began to speed, her throat relaxed and opened, and she found herself suckling loudly under her mate on about half of his exposed maleness. As they both became more enthusiastic she made tight, quick strokes with her tongue, bobbing her head occasionally. Her relatively small muzzle was crammed completely full of throbbing fox meat, as she tried both to present herself and remain upright enough not to slip off the thick cock. With no other way to breathe, she was forced to inhale and exhale loudly through her nose in irregular huffs. "Slicks" and "schillpps" and other lusty sounds filled the air. For his part the fox was almost growling now, deep, guttural sounds interrupted only by those of wet lapping, struggling to maintain his position without simply falling into the snow.

Buttercup came first, much to her surprise. Her body twitched and shuddered and she almost fell over, the fox continuing on relentlessly, his own hips twitching, pressure building. Shortly after he too started ejaculating wildly, catching the distracted bunny by surprise. Her mouth filled up quickly even though she instinctively swallowed as fast as she could. The sheer volume of hot, sticky fluid was too great and a moment later she was forced to back off, coughing and choking on the massive amount of fox seed filling her mouth and throat and even leaking from her nose. This didn't stop the vulpine climax and the many following spurts of hot liquid aggressively painted her face and chest. There was little she could do but back off and close her eyes as the warmth spread over her, seemingly unending.

About a minute later the fox got, shakily, to his feet. Buttercup took the chance to hop out from beneath him and wipe some of the viscous seed from her face with her paws. The fox, still panting heavily, tongue extended, was trailing an arc of silvery cum, his penis still twitching somewhat floppily and flinging the thick liquid onto the snow as the strange red shaft softened and faded back into its sheath. Buttercup began to wash herself off, rubbing against the snow and licking herself clean, trying to remove both the fox cum and scent from herself. When, a few minutes later, she glanced back at the fox he was once again standing stock still, watching her with an inscrutable expression. They stared at each other for a long time in silence before the fox slowly padded off, back into the forest from where he had come.

It would still take some time, and a bit of snow, to get completely clean. The scent of fox, and mating clung to her, soaked into her skin. One she could disguise, the other she could not. But once again Buttercup had met a fox and survived, a feat few rabbits could boast. The warren was safe again, for now.


* * *

It was nearing sunrise when the chief rabbit returned, cold, wet and smelling strongly of fox. She had survived. There was a sense of relief and joy in the warren as the news spread silently through looks and expressions from rabbit to rabbit. The fox would not return, at least not for a week, maybe more. Once again danger had been averted.

Nobody talked to her as she made her way back to her burrow, or congratulated her on her success. They especially did not ask her what she had done. Nobody knew how she managed to outwit and defeat such a dangerous foe and she was not willing to tell them. Perhaps she felt it a secret best kept hidden.



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