Valentine's Tease

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.

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Bound and Used

The wolf's chest heaved as he struggled, blue fur matted with sweat, although it had not been so long tied up in his bondage that he had started to really feel the strain. That bone-deep ache, that was, that made him whimper and whine, tongue lolling from his muzzle even as his cock throbbed up hard and ready, a drop of pre-cum almost perpetually drooling from the very tip.

Razak panted heavily, squirming, though he knew he was not going anywhere. The splash of white down his front and the blend of lighter blue fur into the darker, richer shades were near enough impossible to discern in the low light, his arms pulled directly up over his head and cuffed to the wall. That may have allowed him some play in his bondage but, alas, there was not even a chain attaching his cuffs to the thick, heavy O-ring bolted into the wall, just a padlock that he knew would not be removed until, well...

...until she'd had her fill of him, of course.

That was not the extent of it, however, as his shoulders strained and pulled, yanked up into a position that simply was unnatural when held for such a span of time. His hind paws struggled to come underneath his body, swaying and leaning back heavily against the wall for support, though that was an action in itself that came with its own set of problems. Quivering with need, his tongue lashed the side of his muzzle but that didn't do anything to relieve the burning tension in his thighs, trying to keep his legs braced and balanced, a spreader bar locked and cuffed between his paws in a gleam of metal.

His cock throbbed, pulsing, twitching. Raz would have laughed, before, if someone would have told him that his cock could jerk that much all on its own without anyone doing anything to it but it plumped up his sheath, even his knot threatening to swell, thick and ready. But for what? Ready for what? There was nothing there, no one there, just the dim, dark play room and the heaving rasp of his own breath raking through his lungs over and over again.

His shaft had not escaped the lewd touch of rope either, that time, a rope harness of sorts crudely tightened around his girth and sheath, ensuring that it stayed pulled back over his knot and his nuts were separated within his sack too, forced to be fat and bulbous and straining as the black rope parted them far from sweetly. There was nothing kind about the bondage that he had been forced into; at least, that was what he told himself, wriggling and twisting back and forth to the extent that he was allowed. Yet he wasn't so sure either that he would have walked away from it either, his hips bowing out and out from the wall as his back arched and he tried, oh so very desperately, eyes half-lidded, to thrust into an unseen paw.

The crème de la crème of the whole, devious affair, however, was the pressure driven up under his tail - a pressure, indeed, that he simply could not escape from. A large dildo, shaped to mimic the shaft of an anthro stallion while the head was perfectly flared, was tucked up under his tail, a looming presence that he could not ignore as he panted and tried, even if it was futile, to gain some relief from it all. It ground over his prostate and he ground his teeth together, though that flash of tension would not help the wolf one bit, Razak well and truly caught up in his predicament whether he liked it...or not? Did he like it?

That was hardly a question he wanted to answer. Better not to think right then. Better to feel, locked away from everyone else, the shaft under his tail bearing down on him with irrevocable desire. As much as he strained forward away from it, his aching thighs and arms needed relief too and it was with a long, drawn-out groan that rose up from the back of his throat that he allowed himself to sink back on it. Inch after delectable inch sucked back up into his lewdly strained tail hole, sure to be left in a gape after the toy and his mistress was good and done with him.

And when would that be? For none of it alone was enough to get him off but it was all just enough to keep him hard and wanting, so close to the edge of a restrained high that he could almost taste it. Yet she knew just how far her puppy could be pushed, whimpering and squirming, and there was no one there to take mercy on his howls, working his jaw as his chest shuddered and he twisted back and forth, tail flicked up, shamefully, high. It was as if, sometimes, his body simply did the talking for him.

Yet it was good to think, to imagine, that he could get off with his nuts straining, churning, cupped-up in that rope harness, his shaft on full, lewd display while he could only stand there, sometimes leaning, and take it. Raz rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, though even his pants didn't seem to ease the tightness in his lungs, rolling his hips lightly, muscles burning, to grind the toy deeper up inside him, that flare reaching places inside him that brought drool after drool of milky pre-cum from his cock even if he knew there was no end in sight.

He didn't want there to be an end. Let him stay there forever, a drooling, helpless mess of a pup, waiting for his mistress, a wait that would forever drag out and out. Let lust last, the tease of a high that was forever destined to be outside his reach.

Somewhere, she chuckled.

"It's not over yet..."

And he wouldn't have wanted it to be either.