Revenge

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially. These stories have been public for some time, but I am slowly uploading my back catalog of stories Currently.

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Revenge

“Oh dear,” the nude mare smiled, tapping the long, slim bamboo cane against the palm of her chestnut coloured paw. “We do seem to have gotten ourselves into a pickle here, haven’t we?”

The red fox squirming and growing against the X-frame seemed to agree whole-heartedly. His paws and hind paws were bound to the four vertical ends of the frame, the leather cuffs cutting into his fine, auburn fur, and his muzzle was facing towards the bondage frame so that he could do little more than crane his neck to glare at the mare over his shoulder. He was dressed in obscenely tight jeans and a fitted, black shirt, which emphasized his slim frame and, to be fair, lack of muscle tone; Amethylthyst wondered how he had even crept into her house in such uncomfortable, overly-fashionable attire. Surely he could not even bend over in those clothes? He would not have them on for much longer though: oh no.

“Fuck you!” He spat, a globule of spit flying forth to sully the floor. “I only wanted to look around!”

“Mhm,” she said absentmindedly. “Who sent you then? Come on, out with it, I haven’t got all day for you.”

“Fuck, you,” he said more slowly, staring at the dark wall, although his tail flicked anxiously.

“Oh, do you think so?” She chuckled, motioning another fur forward. “I rather think it’s going to be the other way around, don’t you?”

A black anthro calmion clip-clopped forward noisily, nostrils flared and eyes wide with excitement; a brown, leather collar encircled his neck with a small, circular tag dangling from the front O-ring. He was nude from muzzle to hoof and carried a pair of bandage scissors in his paws, blunt on one side so that they could be safely used to remove, well, bandages. The calmion, however, had a different use for this implementation – he made quick work of the wriggling, grimacing fox’ clothes, letting them fall to the floor, without any sort of care, in ruined, tattered shreds.

“Don’t do This to me,” he while to the calmion, who only snorded and pushed his head down so that he could finish slicing off the vulpine’s shirt (his bare buttocks had already been revealed). “Please, you should just stop now. You can leave! Don’t do this.”

“That will be all,” Amethylst said coolly, allowing the horse to gather up the scraps of fabric. As he passed her, bowing his head respectfully, she caresed his side lightly with her fingertips, grouping his firm rear.

When she was alone with the fox, Amethyst flicked her ears back in distaste and stalked up tothe X-frame, which was perfectly situationd in the centre of the room. She only thought that it was a goal that it had to be used for such low means and not for the means of pleasure that she preferred to utilize it for, as her slaves rarely gave her any need to punish them. No, pleasure was the name of the game in her household. But there were some that did not respect that and thought that they could do better – better with her. Leaning in close to the fox, she nipped his ear sharply.

“Did you really think that you could sneak in here and harm my slaves, much less steal them away?” She hissed into his ear, the fox quailing under her murderous stare. “I know why you were here. All part of that bastard of a calmion’s revenge. Some blokes never do take it well when you turn them down for sex. But every Tom, Dick and Harry at the fetish club thinks he can get me on my knees, sucking his dick like a common slut.” She paused, the silence hanging dangerously. “I’m not like that.”

“Your slaves are filter,” he snarled defiantly, pinning his ears flat against his skull. “They are traitors to even consider serving under you. And lashing me up here like they had the right! I have a mind to – “

The mare slapped him hard, his muzzle snapping to the side as he yelped loudly.

“Shut up,” she grew, gripping the cane, which she had been unconsciously holding all this time, More tightly in her paw, feeling its familiar weight. “I’ll give you reason to scream.”

Swinging her paw back, she struck his buttocks far too hard with the cane, but the blood-curdling fox-scream that the blow earned her was beautiful. He deserved the pain for his insolence. Did he have any idea what trouble he was causing her? She knew what he had thought he could do. He thought that he could Take every one of her slaves away and rape her like a piece of meat, a slab of horseflesh. He was no different. Snarling in a most uncharacteristic manner for a horse of any breed, she broughtthe cane down again and again, cutting into his flesh and raising welts in a matter of seconds, her ears flicking to listen to the melody of his cries and whimpers.

But there was swiftly something different in his demeanour, even as he cried and tears dripped off the end of his drooping muzzle. His tail, which had been pressed downwards in a futile attempt to escape the biting pain of the cane, was pushed upwards willingly and he arched back into the brutality, eyes closed and lungs heaving for a proper gasp of air. Amethylst smirked knowingly, slapping his buttocks with the flat of her paw: so soon?

“Oh, you like that, do you?” She laughed cruelly, striking him a second time, square across the bloody welts, with her small paw. “All your plans to hurt and humiliate – and you are the one who likes it in the end. Maybe this is what you wanted really? Does your master withhold pain from you because you like it so much?”

He whimpered and shook his head, unable to get anycoherent words out as he panted and swwayed like a restrained drinkard, hatred dark in the narrowed slices of his eyes. Glancing down at her paw, Amethylst noted the smear of blood on her palm and where the fox’ fur had darkened around the welts on his own skinny body; she had not cut into his skin that much, but the damage was still noticeable and could not be continued in this manner. The cane was too brutal of an instrument, which was one reason why she rarely took it in paw. Pity.

“You’ve made my paw dirty,” she frowned and then pushed her paw against his muzzle. “Clean it.”

Crying steadily, the fox snaked his tongue out and lapped across her paw, his saliva and the long, smooth strokes cleaning the stain. In a moment of kindness, she patted his muzzle and he thought it was over – she would let him go. Dropping the cane, she opened a cupboard in the corner of the room and his heart sank; even from his restricted angle and position, he could easily see that the cupboard neatly presented a selection of even worse implements to her paws. His ordeal was not over yet.

Amethylst drew her favourite strap-on (ten inches, purple, covered with little ridges and bumps and, finally, with a canine-like knot at the base) from the cupboard and fastened it about her hips, ignoring the renewed whimpers and pleading of the fox. What did she care for his comfort? Though she knew that entry into his tight ass would be impossible without lubricant, so perhaps that was a blessing in disguise for him; she had not planned to use it at all. Grabbing a bottle of it, she trotted back to the fox, her hooves striking the shiny, black, linoleum floor with the omino effect she desired, the sound ringing around the small room.

“Be thankful,” she informed him as she poured some of the lube into her paws and coated the dildo in it, rubbing the slick, viscous liquid along its daunting length. “This will grant you some mercy even if I won’t show any.”

“Please,” he whispered hoarsely, hanging his head. “Please don’t do this to me… It’s rap… I’ll tell my master what you did…”

“Oh, that terrifies me. And rap? When you like it so much?” She laughed, gripping his hips and positioning the dildo at his tightly clenched tail hole. “How could it ever be rap?”

The brush of her small but perky breasts against his back was the only warning the fox received before his anus was spread forcibly open, the thick dildo demanding entry to his most intimate depths. The lubricant helped very little – he was not used to being penetrated there! He had a different job in his household, very different! Gritting his teeth, the fox hissed out all of his breath and fought desperately not to scream. It was a futile effort.

“Shut up or I’ll gag you,” Amethylst growing, grinding the full length of the fake phallus into the fox’ tail hole. “Maybe gives you something to bite down upon, but that would make it too easy now, wouldn’t it?”

He shook his head and while plainly as she drew back, savagely thrusting like a wild stallion. Trembling, all he could do was stand there and take it, leaning heavily upon the frame for the scarce support it offered, the pain from his tail hole impossible to ignore, although he tried to be as quiet as possible. Did he really want it to get any worse than this? He should never have come here in the first place! He had been wrong.

“I…I…” He gasped, his stomach pressed uncomfortable into the hard, wooden frame. “I…I’m…sorry…”

“What was that?” Amethylst pretended not to hear him, cupping her paw to her ear.

“I’m sorry!” He yelped, the dildo hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside him. To his shame, his cock rose in response, swelling with blood and glaiming with a dribble of unwanted pre cum.

“Much better,” Amethylst smirked, pressing her hips against his sore buttons. “Perhaps there is hope for you yet…”

Though she was not satisfied yet. Amethylst snortedand tossed her mane back from her sweaty neck, thrusting and bucking roughly into his tail hole, noting the trickle of blood mixing with the lube on the dildo. It only made her smile to see physical evidence of his pain. All that he deserved and more, but the best was to come. Reaching around to hold his throat lightly in her paw – not choking but showing him that she could if she wanted to – she drove into him powerfully, pushing his tail out of the way and groping his buttocks. She thought that, if she had rubbed across his pale furred belly, she would have felt an obscene bulge from the thick dildo showing through his stomach.

As suddenly as the assault had begun, it ended. The dildo was withdrawn from his sore, gaping tail hole and the fox moaned, dangling simply from the frame. Removing the strap-on from her hips, Amethylst tossed it aside and stepped up to release the fox, unfasted all four cuffs from the frame and sniggering when he crumpled to the floor in a heap, unable to support himself. Fearfully, he looked up at her, whimpering and keeping his muzzle close to the ground – she grinned wickedly.

“Lick me to orgasm, bitch,” Amethyls snapped, dragging his muzzle to her dripping slit.

Snuffling his tears away, the fox licked up the mare’s sex, finding her engaged clip and lapping over it quickly with swift, little swipes of his agile tongue. He did not know What she liked the most, but he hoped that this attention would earn him some redemption or respite. Amethylthyst moaned and pushed his head closer into her body, holding and pinching his ears as ‘encouragement’ of sorts. Amethylthyst’s juices dripped from her cunny and soaked the fox’ muzzle, marking it with her personal, intimate scent that would linger even after many meticulous washes, he thought with a glimmer of disgust. Whimpering and rubbing her clip furiously with the flat of his tongue, the fox hoped that he was pressing the demanding horse closer to orgasm – perhaps then everythinging would come to a close at long last. He did not have long to wait.

Neighing loudly, the sound ringing around the room, as she climaxed, the mare huffed and shivered, her tail flicking excitedly over her rear. Satisfied at last by both her pleasure and the fox’ humiliation, Amethylthyst thrust him away from her dispatchately and the demoralised fox dropped lower, ears flicked back submissively.

“I’ll come back to you later,” she snorted. “Daniel?”

The black stallion from before opened the door in the corner of the room, poking his head in and barely concealing a smile as he looked over the fox; he had been the one to bind him to the X-frame when he had first discovered the fox trying to coerce the other slaves into false beliefs.

“Tend to his body and keep him under watch,” Amethylst instructed, a soft tone to her voice as she addressed him. “I need to make a call.”

He nodded and went in to do his job; Amethylthyst knew that he would be professional and show the due kindnesses to the fox, regardless of how the creativity had behaved before. As for the mare, she plodded wearily from the playroom to her bedroom, lifting the phone off the stand on the bedside table as she sat down on the comfortable duvet. She made as if to dial the number of the master that she had such grievances with – he would have to pick up his slave, after all – but paused halfway, letting the paw holding the phone drop to her chestnut tigh. She looked about as if suddenly aware of where she was and lowered her muzzle into her paws, her shoulders shaking with the sobs that she had held back all this time, keeping it in and keeping it together. Tears ran down her muzzle and her breath came in hoarse, raking gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to breathe evenly, for her own sake.

Everyone has their breaking point.