Boy, what a night. I could tell it must’ve been special because I could hardly recall any of it. The most pleasurable and hedonistic times of our lives are always the most fleeting. Makes you wonder what the whole point is. Oh, I didn’t read that somewhere, just made it up. Am I good or what?
      
       Anyway, last night must’ve been intense. My memory’s all fuzzy and I’m starting to feel a hangover come on. Head’s throbbing like crazy, and my ass feels like it's been throttling a baliistic missle to orbit and back. Which can only mean one thing. Christ. I always tell myself not to do this. Every night, it's "be stronger tonight, Semille, pace yourself." (Yes, that's my real name.) "Don’t let just any hound go sniffing around your goods." Well, from my pounding headache and blurry vision, at least I can tell myself it wasn’t completely my fault.
      
       Speaking of which, I don’t remember this bed I’m lying on. Feels softer and plusher than my mattress, almost like I’m sinking into a cottony cloud. Not bad. Must be at his place. Wonder what he’s like? I schooch a little into the center of the bed and feel him against me. Must be a big boy, huge and ripped like a diamond from all the swelling bulges and contours rubbing against my back. Typical nagual, I suppose. A wolf, probably. Never saw the big deal about wolves, but I certainly didn’t hate em. His scent was pungent and musky, thick and strong. His breath could use some work though. I could feel him breathing on my neck, those juicy, massive pecs inflating against me with each breath, his thick abs billowing out just off my spine and tail. Just to make sure, I ground my foxy rump against his waist. He made the cutest moan and I could tell he was packin’ heat, his thick python pressing my cheeks apart. He wasn’t hard yet, but goddamn, pup was THICK, and so warm rubbing my bare fuzzy bum. Landed myself a nice catch this time. Just wish I could’ve remembered our romp.
      
       “Morning, sweetie.” He whispered into my ear. Had a nice voice, too. Not really baritone or silky smooth, but it sounded sincere and strong yet kind. The kind of voice you’d expect from a delicious hunk raised from childhood with discipline to treat the ladies, or twinks in my case, with respect.
       Mmmm, now he was lashing my ears and neck with that wide, warm tongue of his, nibbling here and there. He took me from behind with huge, black paws, smooshing me against that amazing chest like he was trying to stuff me between his pecs, bathing me with his tongue while he gingerly tickled at my legs and inner thighs. Bastard must’ve known I was ticklish, growling a little every time I giggled or moaned, writhing in his powerful grip. Whoever he was, he was so big, gentle, warm. I loved being in that bed with him, it felt like being in a dream, a fuzzy, peachy dream. I could have drifted off right there, listening only to his heartbeat and the sweet words he cooed into my ear.
      
       Trouble is, I started to notice something strange about where we were. The morning sun was so strong here, far too strong for the winter months where I lived. I couldn’t even see darkness when I shut my eyes tight, it was that bright. Then I noticed all the unusual scents, becoming sharper and clearer as I got used to the wolf’s musk. The sweet aromas of ripening fruits, that distinctive scent of chlorine like from a pool, and salt. Everywhere, I smelled salt.
       And I swear I heard the ocean. The rolling of waves, the loud caws of gulls, all of it. I didn’t live anywhere near a beach and it was smack dab in the middle of November. So, what the hell?
       I sat up and rubbed my eyes. This definitely wasn’t my home. The walls and floors were paved with polished white marble, brilliant rays of sunlight pouring in from the wide screen doors. I scrambled out of bed and slid the doors open. The sun was blinding, painfully so, but my bleached vision soon seeped back to me. Rolling hills and valleys carpeted with lush jungle, the vast green peppered with small resorts and villas of pure white and blue stone. On the horizon stretched an endless ocean. The weather here was perfect; warm, not too balmy, with a pleasantly cool summer breeze tickling me as it blew in from the coast. This place was like paradise, an ideal summer retreat. Probably AltoVera, had to be.
       Wait…I was at home just last night….now I’m here, waking up in some strange bed with some strange guy. He didn’t, he couldn’t have, he wouldn’t….
      
       “Like the view, cutiepie?” He said, lying sprawled across the bed in all his lupine glory, legs and arms spread out wide. He was a wolf alright, fuck what a wolf.  A prime physical specimen of his breed, his bulging, massive physique clad in trim, jet black fur. He had the most handsome face, gorgeous blue eyes and matching nose, off all things, perfect pearly fangs glinting in the blazing sun. His head fur was short, trim and snow white, another trail of white speckles running along his chin to go with the orca-ish splotch of cream around his left eye.
       Those thick, ripe pecs were even bigger than I imagined them, bulging outward at least a few inches from his chest, pert and ripped with striations, a patch of white chest fur running down that deep cleft between them, and topped off with those fat, sumptuous nipples. The big, black wolf’s muzzle rested on top of those bad boys easily, head nearly dwarfed by those sprawling mountains of delts and traps stretching out from his bull-thick neck. His arms bulged with rock-hard muscle, veiny biceps and throbbing triceps and forearms twitching and swelling with sheer, unadulterated power. A thick wall of abs, intercostals and obliques subtly led my eyes down, down to those gargantuan thighs that put redwoods to shame, thick, bushy tail poking out from underneath that bulbous, buff butt and wagging excitedly. Tucked between his monstrous quads was a truly impressive package. His cock wasn’t too long yet, but it was wider than a two-liter coke bottle and roped with bulging veins, resting atop a huge, round sack, both balls, easily the size of cantaloupes,  clearly defined straining against his tight hide.
       But then, he was still a typical nagual. Most guys grow into this type of physique naturally by the time they’re twenty. Not saying I didn’t find him insanely hot, but I always prided myself on listening to my upper head over my lower one.
       “Who are you, again?” I asked him.
       His ears drooped, like I hurt his feelings or something.
       “Don’t tell me you already forgot.”
       I shook my head and he just lay there, running a paw through his hair.
       “Name’s Dante Kibakura, babydoll. And you, Semille Armistead, are my newest catch.”
       “Say what?” My unammused confusion dropped flat and low, like a parent whose uppity brat told them they didn't feel like going to timeout, and if my head could tilt any sharper, it've snapped right off like one of those hula dash ornaments.
       “Come back to bed and sure, and afterwards I’ll explain whatever you want.” He winked and stretched out over the bed, giving me the cutest “come hither” look with those azure, puppy dog eyes. But cute wasn’t going to work on me.
       “You’ll explain everything. Now. Where the hell did you bring me? What, did you slip me some daterape pills and fly us out to your private little cabana boy paradise? And who the hell are you? Some kinda rich sheik trolling for concubines? Spoiled neouveau-rich playboy? Crazy organ-harvester? What? And what's so goddamn funny?”
     I mean, the fuck? I could practically hear myself ringing off the marble walls and the wolf just smirked and pointed at me. 
Wait.
Shit! I forgot I was buck naked the whole time. I ducked for the bed and wrapped myself in the covers.

      
       “So? You gonna answer me or do I have to scream bloody murder?” He asked, red face turning a brilliant pink underneath all those sheets. Goddamn, he was cute. I’m always being told I really know how to pick em, but I seriously outdid myself this time. A stunning little foxboi, and a runt at that! Can't say I expected such...spice outta him. When I think foxbois with waists I could wrap a paw around, "fiesty" isn't the first thing that pops up, but it's not like he didn't throw out clues. Still sorta shocked the bed's legs didn't give out under us.
       “Now now, no need for a scene. Just relax.” I reached down and hugged him close to my chest. He was so tiny compared to me. I couldn’t help but kiss his little head all over, but I could from the way he was fidgeting that he was getting impatient.
       “Well, long story short, little Sem, I’ve decided to make you the newest member of my Pack.”
       “Pack?”
       “Yep. See, I’ve been doing a lot of traveling over the years, sowing my wild oats and all those other clichés, and came across many very interesting, multifaceted, and amazingly hot individuals in my journeys. So I got to thinking of starting a private group composed of myself and these amazing friends of mine, my Pack. Just for fun, y’know. Bonding, hangin out, fucking like rabbits, you name it.”
       His adorable little green eyes grew wide. Damn he was so cute.      
       “And I’ve decided to offer you membership, my beautiful little fox. So I’ve brought you here to this private resort of ours for an introductory get-together into the Pack. You’ll get to meet all the hundreds of members, all dying to meet you by the way, explore the island, see a show, whatever you want. And at the end of the day, if you choose to join, we’ll officially induct you with a big welcoming party, stuff you with great food, and wreck your cute little ass for the entire night with our traditional Marathon Run.”
       I gave him a lewd wink and led his muzzle up to mine with a single thick, clawed finger for a nice kiss. His mouth was so small, tender, warm. I snaked my big, strong tongue down his throat, playing and wrestling with his. We kissed for a while and when I broke it off, he stared up at me, lips quivering. I could tell he was in heaven. They always were. Course, I usually knew my members very well before I invited them, but I just fell in love with the scrawny firecraker.
       I remember seeing him for the first time in that street café, poured over a notebook jotting down somethin or other. His green eyes were hidden underneath that bristly little crop of black head fur. I could tell it was just dye, it was flaking like the paint in those ratty shacks they pretty up in those bad home makeover shows, but it made him look unique, mysterious, and just fallible enough to seem approachable. He was so lithe and trim, so adorable. We nag are usually all super muscled studs, so humanborn runts like him were a rare commodity. The way they’re so small and cute and gentle, and how we have to be gentle and caring with them in bed, something about it is just so hot. Then again, you can also be as rough as you want with em and they’ll beg you for more over their lolling tongues. I always had a soft spot for them, and I always wanted a runt in my Pack. Now I had one, a sleek little foxboi with an amazing ass. Fuck, I could watch him all day long, that luscious, plump, tight little rump rocking back and forth under that swaying, candy-tipped tail.
      
       “So, you’re saying…” I finally heard him say.
       “Yes, sweetie?”
       “You’re saying….you kidnapped me?"