"A vixen." The feral fox’s mind decided as the intruding animal began to pant, salivating all over Cole’s fuzzy rear. "Somehow a male vixen… and he was in heat."
The feral’s paws desperately scrabbled on the kitchen’s linoleum floor as he stuffed his muzzle between the humanoid fox’s furry buns. "Better than a normal vixen… better than any female he’d ever smelled."
The large fox huffed away at Cole’s butt like fox-nip. His long canine tongue wetly slopped against that inviting black ring underneath the boy’s tail, pressing harder and harder until that ebony animal flesh gave way to Cole’s plush, pink innards.
Much softer than a bitch’s vulva, those satiny walls of boy rectum nuzzled and teased against the feral’s tongue as the larger fox desperately tried to ram his snout inside. Cole’s tight foxhole relented, that swollen black ring strrreeeeetching just wide enough to engulf the fox’s nose, treating the feral to a musky hotbox of Cole’s sex-laced boy scent.
The large fox’s legs wavered and wobbled in place as he idly nipped and sucked on Cole’s stretched out pucker. Blood was sapped from the fox’s brain and limbs as it pooled in his groin. His plump sheath squelched backwards and bunched up as his slimy red canine maleness began slipping out, a puddle of precum forming on the floor as the fox’s hips began to hump the air. To the feral, it was mating season again. Now the only thought in that bestial mind of his was to pump Cole’s boy pussy full of so many kits that his belly would bloat. But just as the larger male tried to scamper on top of Cole to mount him, the boy yelped and darted to the end of the kitchen, staring at the intruding fox fearfully.
“W-wah… Wah ist thish? Wah happened?” Cole’s words slurred out of his vulpine maw as he shakily stood on his two digitigrade legs with his back to the wall. He’d just woken up and hadn’t the faintest clue what the big feral was doing to him. His butt was wet and felt… hot. Really hot, like he’d sat on metal park bench in the middle of summer... and it didn’t let up. Cole bit his canid lips as he hiked his tail up and rubbed his swollen anus against the wall, feeling the other fox’s drool seep out of his tailhole as he panted like a dog to try to dissipate some of that heat. As Cole pressed his rump against the wall, he finally got a good look at the intruder.
“Foxshie!?” the boy’s eyes shot open wide as he realized there were two Foxys. The plush stuffed animal he’d had for his entire life was laying on the ground just in front of a real-live Foxy. Cole couldn’t believe it, but there was no mistaking it. The cream-colored belly was the exact same, that fuzzy red tail just as long with a tiny bit of black and white fur at the end. Both Foxy’s wore the same black “sock”-pattern around each leg too, meaning there was no mistaking it – two Foxys.
Cole should have been elated! Two Foxys were diffidently better than one! But something about the new Foxy made Cole’s tail stand on end. He couldn’t quite place what it was, but all what Cole did know was that he wasn’t in charge of Foxy anymore.
“Y-you’re… big now, Foxshie…” Cole managed to stammer out in between breathy huffs as the larger vulpine prowled towards him with an exaggerated sway in his flanks. Foxy was looking at Cole like he hadn’t eaten for a week and the boy was a 40-pound chicken nugget. The animal’s slimy tongue ran across his chops as Foxy flashed his sharp canines at him. He bore a hole into Cole with his primal stare, a glint feral need glimmering in the animal’s eyes. It was in that moment, a thought struck Cole that frightened him to his core.
Foxy was the bigger animal in the room now. Foxy had just been biting him… tasing his butt. That feral fixation he had on Cole just went to show the boy that his friend wasn’t a stuffed animal anymore, but a predator - one that lives on instinct, hunts, and fights to survive. And Cole, he was the prey.
“PLEASHE DON’T! I CAN GETSCH YOU MORE FOOD!” Cole slurred out a panicked yell from his vulpine muzzle as he backed himself into a wall. Did foxes even eat other foxes!? Maybe! Had he not eaten all the food, maybe Foxy wouldn’t want to eat him. The boy mourned the fact that he’d just cleared out the whole fridge of all the food a fox could eat, his plump fuzzy belly a testament to his regret. “I’m shorry I ate everysching. I can getsch you more food later… pleashe… don’t eat me…”
As the boy pleaded to Foxy he sidled to the kitchen, keeping his butt to the wall as the feral fox inched closer. Foxy didn’t have hands. All Cole had to do was open it, slip through, and shut it and Foxy couldn’t get to him. But as the fox-boy reached out a hand-paw to turn the doorknob that lead to safety, he realized he couldn’t do it.
His fingers had gotten shorter and plumper – less human, more fox. He was unable to even grip the knob with his paw let alone turn it. How did this happen? He was able to open doors just fine earlier. Was he changing more?
In a fit of desperation Cole lunged at the door and latched onto the handle with both paws, in a feverish attempt to escape. He’d never been more afraid in his life – heart pounding, butt exposed – and despite his terror his paws kept slipping off the knob, precious moments to save himself flittering away as he fiddled with the door until he finally heard the mechanism open.
Just as Cole cracked the door open to run through, a weight from behind him slammed it shut. Foxy had pounced with the force of a puma. The animal’s paws roughly grasped around Cole’s chest as Foxy’s panting maw hovered less than an inch away from the back of the boy’s neck. Cole felt his tail get bent upward as Foxy’s hind paws skittered on the linoleum kitchen floor, leaning against Cole for balance as the terrified fox-boy stood pinned between the shut door and the heavier Foxy.
With all the grace of a wrecking ball, Foxy speared his half-sheathed erection against Cole’s backside, whiffing against but the fox-boy’s supple butt and dimpling Cole’s cream-colored fur with gooey dollops or precum. Cole let out a vulpine shriek as he felt what he feared most scrape against the back of his scruff. Foxy’s canines. Two sharp daggers that could tear into his flesh just moments away from sinking in and eating him!
Cole dropped down to the floor, slipping away from Foxy’s paws before darting away into the living room. The bigger fox was right on his tail, charging at Cole with feral abandon, nipping at the boy’s butt and pulling on his tail whenever he got into striking distance. Cole kept tripping as he struggled to stay on two legs because every time he did, Foxy pounced right onto his back, scrambling to mount the boy and then pounding away at his rear end. Cole’s sweat-slickened vulpine body managed to slip away each time, the chase getting more desperate by the second as Cole dropped onto all fours, dashing through the room like an animal as he ran for his life!
A lamp toppled over. A vase shattered against the ground. The two foxes’ bodies slammed against each other along with anything in their way as the living room started to look more like a war zone. As Cole tired, the scene grew even more frantic. The exhausted fox-boy had to stop before he passed out. He stood still for a few moments, panting like a dog trying to cool down on a hot summer day. This left him completely open for Foxy to pounce – and he did.
Cole felt like his was hit by lion running at him from Mach speed. Before he knew it, he was tumbling with Foxy, his vision a blur of the ceiling, then the floor, then nothing but Foxy’s red fur. He could feel Foxy’s steaming-hot red rocket prod against him all over – at one moment against his back, then his plump belly, then against his leg, then his mouth. Cole tried all he could to wrestle Foxy away, but the larger feral was just too strong. He humped against Cole’s plush vulpine body wherever he could, smearing precum all over the fox-boy as he tried to reach his target.
By this point, Cole was too exhausted to pull away. All he managed was shakily balancing on all fours yet again, trying to crawl away from Foxy as the larger feral managed to settle himself on Cole’s back. Foxy’s hot fox prick started to dig into Cole’s rear, wetly plapping away at the fox-boy’s red-fuzzed buns as the feral neared his mark.
“…mom…” Cole whimpered as he felt those sharp canines grasp his scruff. “Mom. Mom! MOM!” He cried out in a last, desperate attempt to save himself. He didn’t want to run away anymore! He didn’t want to be a fox! Being an animal was too scary… too much…
Cole clenched his teeth and yipped as he felt Foxy strike gold. The fox-boy’s puffy black anal ring quivered as that slimy tapered tip of canine cock kissed against that tight opening. An inch of fox meat quickly sank into Cole’s virgin rear as the fox-boy’s tail hiked up instinctively.
It was hot. Too hot. Cole spat out a drooly gasp as he started panting uncontrollable. He was panting so much that he couldn’t spare another word to call out for his Mom as Foxy began rolling his hips atop Cole. He ground his shaft against the fox-boy’s tailhole, working his penis in deeper as his sheath pulled back to unfurl more gooey bestial cock flesh.
Cole couldn’t take it. It felt too weird – it wasn’t right! He tried to get back on two feet but found that he couldn’t. His spine snapped and reformed as Foxy sloppily humped him, his pelvis crackling until his hindlegs were perpendicular to the ground. He was a quadruped now, his body perfect for walking on fours and taking it doggy style. Foxy seized the opportunity and bit down hard on Cole’s scruff, rhythmically slamming his vulpine pride against Cole’s stuffed anus.
As the smell of fox sex began enveloped the room, Cole started to grow vocal, letting out a loud yip each time the bigger fox rammed his cock into him. The fox-boy was surprised by that too. He didn’t know why he was doing it, but it made the feeling of getting mated so much more intense. Cole realized that maybe, just maybe, Foxy wasn't trying to eat him. What Foxy really wanted was this.
Cole yowled as Foxy bore down on him. The larger feral started to jackhammer into Cole the louder he got, that piston of vulpine meat battering away at the fox-boy’s butt. Cole got louder, pressing back against Foxy’s unrelenting thrusts as he threw his head back yipped and yowled as loud as he could.
It hurt. It hurt so bad. It was a paw-curling, tail-flagging sort of pain that Cole had never once experienced in his life. He just couldn’t stop himself from wanting more, his own erection popping free of its sheath, frantically bobbing along with Foxy’s thrusts. He wanted more. More more more more more.
And then everything stopped. Foxy’s ears perked up at full attention as he quit humping, his cock still buried inside Cole’s rear end.
“Cole?” A distant voice called out from upstairs. “Is that you? Is everything alright?”
Cole’s ears shot up to attention like Foxy’s as he tried to call out to his Mom to tell her everything was fine, but all he could muster was a series of drooly, panting yips. The fox-boy’s butt clenched in pain as Foxy suddenly pulled out and darted into the kitchen towards the cat door. Cole followed after him only to find Foxy already half way outside, the fox’s tail slipping through the flap and disappearing out into the cool, dark night.
Cole panicked. He didn’t want to be left alone, not with a human of all things! Without another thought, Cole ran through the kitchen, only stopping for a moment to pick up the stuffed animal version of Foxy that Cole had loved so much. He couldn’t let the new Foxy go or leave the old one behind, so he chomped on the stuffed animal’s tail and charged on all fours towards the cat door.
Cole tried to slip through just like Foxy did, but his belly was still a little bit distended from all the food he’d eaten earlier, making the cat door an extra tight fight. Cole had to let go of the stuffed Foxy’s tail to make more room as he kicked his hindlegs as hard as he could to break free, just barely managing to propel himself through to the other side and out into the cool night’s air. As soon as he was outside he stuck his head back through the cat door and grabbed the plush Foxy with his teeth, tugging at it with all his might. He desperately wanted to bring the stuffed Foxy with him, since they’d spent their whole lives together, but it was such a tight fit that the oversized stuffie just didn’t budge!
Cole’s eyes opened wide as his Mom stepped into the kitchen, the woman gasped sharply as she saw the mess that had become of the house. His Mom’s eyes traced over the room until finally spotting the fox tugging at her son’s stuffed animal through the cat door.
Cole let go of Foxy, his instincts to run from the human overtaking his need to rescue his childhood toy from his past human life. It was so hard to do. He needed Foxy, but fortunately somewhere in the night he had a new, living Foxy. Cole ran on all fours as fast as he could into the night, galloping across his neighbors’ lawns and through dimly lit streets. He trot off headlong into the night to try and find Foxy again, his vulpine erection still bobbing between his hindlegs as he searched for his friend.