Milked By His Family

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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Milked by His Family

"Unnff..." Alan rolled his head, fox-ish tongue lolling out pinkly. "Mom... Mom, I can't..."

But he'd have to. The red fox squirmed and whimpered, a birthday hat placed jauntily on his head, the strap cutting in under his chin. But it was not one that he could remove so easily as his head spun and throbbed, pulsing as if he'd drunk too much, although the evening of his birthday party was still young and there was time left for festivities if he chose to enjoy them. Alan whined, panting, but his arms were as much use to him as lead weights, hanging by his sides as he knelt in the middle of the living room, his elder sister, Trinity, standing over him.

"Mom can't help you," she giggled, though there was a note of ferocity in her tone as she posed, already in lingerie that highlighted her curves to her best advantage. "And do you really think that crying to her after all this time of being my pet is going to do you any good? Oh, you make me laugh!"

And Trinity did laugh, head thrown back and white teeth flashing, her red fur cutting through to white on her belly and the underside of her neck. An adult vixen, she was glorious in her own form and body but the only view that Alan seemed to have of her, the dominatrix sister who ruled his life, seemed to be from his knees, looking up at the tuck of her crotch and the rise of her tits, still so very hypnotic regardless of everything she'd done to him.

"Whuh... Whuh..."

The words stuck in his mouth, tongue clammy and tight in a muzzle that suddenly seemed too small from it. From the armchair beside the, currently not burning, fireplace, his girlfriend of sorts, Jessica, clicked her tongue disapprovingly against the roof of her mouth. Her legs spread, showing off her snatch, and the vixen moaned lewdly, enjoying the show, fingers delving into her cunt as she pounded herself, a thumb grazing her clit.

"Oh... Oh, tie him up too, Trinity," she murmured, though she was not of such a status in the affairs of the kinky family that she would dominate Trinity or submit willingly to her either. "Tight! Make sure he can't move an inch!"

It was to be so and Alan slipped in and out of his feeling of the waking world as his sister turned him roughly up onto his hind paws, standing and swaying while their mother clucked and fussed. When had she appeared? The vixen was anything but motherly but, then again, it was hard for Alan those days to consider anyone at all of the female persuasion to be motherly.

"Trinity, you've got to get the knots tighter than that! Here, let me show you, doll."

Knots? He didn't feel the knots tightening but he saw his wrists stretch out over the dining table, which was part of the living room, placed behind the sofa where they could all be part of a meal. It was not as if it was happening to him, however, but to someone else as he whimpered and panted, someone rapping his muzzle sharply when he was too noisy for their liking. It was the way of it and his befuddled mind was hardly surprised either when his ankles were yanked wide to be tied to either leg of the heavy, old table that was more than enough to weight down a scrawny scrap of a fox like him.

"The drugs worked quicker than I thought," Trinity chuckled, licking her lips as if there was something there that she wanted to snatch up in her jaws. "But all is well... This will be the best birthday for my best baby bro' ever!"

Of course, he was an adult too, even if he was younger than her, but Alan could barely think straight, whimpering and panting, though Jessica, with the flash of brown darkening her hair, was quick to shove something into his mouth to silence him. It was not quite the gag that he'd been expecting, however, resting between his top and bottom teeth on top of his tongue, a cup sealing softly around his muzzle where it could then be tightened with a strap. Rolling it along his tongue, Alan grunted curiously. A tube? What on earth was that for?

"Oh, quit your whining," Jessica advised with a sharp cuff to the side of his head. "You need this... We're just giving you your birthday present."

But any present that was coming from his kinkily dominant family and his girlfriend, who was rather closer than Trinity than she was to him, was not to be taken lightly and he struggled, despite the heaviness weighing him down. Despite everything, it pulled at him, clawing at his muscles, sinking in teeth and dragging him to the floor, pressing him down into the table, his muscles as weak as those of a cub.

Yet it was what the tube attached to, the kinky mechanism, that should have worried him if he'd been more with his senses and able to react. He barely even flinched as the fleshlight, designed to look and feel like a vixen's snatch, was teased over his cock, half-hard and wanting as a paw closed around his nuts, squeezing lightly, although the threat was there.

"Get hard."

His body knew that command even if his mind was too sluggish to respond and his cock jumped to attention, desperate to obey - and straight into the fleshlight tube itself. A faux-pussy closed around his cock and Alan's mouth open and closed in a silent moan, his voice stolen by the drugs and the domination of his family, skin tingling with a desire that he could not, in the waking world, put any kind of name to.

"So small."

Trinity smirked cruelly, manhandling his cock as her claws pricked into his balls, his tender sack ringing through with a sharp flash of pain.

"Why do you even bother having a cock this small?" She mocked. "You can't even please your girlfriend with that. That's why she has to use you like this, you know. You're worthless."

Alan's head swam and he may have had something to say about that if he was not effectively gagged, toes curling and fingers stretching out along the flat of the old, wood table. Floating, drifting, he tried to hold back, tried to do everything that he'd been trained to - it was all about pleasing those in charge of him, however, and sometimes that was harder to do than others.

His mother ran her paws down his back, teasing and groping, her fingers dipping into the crack of his arse and brushing his taint.

"Still tight back here, I see," she laughed, slapping his backside as if he was nothing more than a piece of meat, not her son by any means. "Your girlfriend must like that... Do you use the strap-on with him often now?"

Jessica grinned, nodding rapidly.

"Oh, why wouldn't I? It's a bigger cock than what he's got anyway!"

Anyone hearing that may well have wondered just why Jessica was with him when she spoke to her fox boyfriend in such a manner but he'd heard it so many times over that Alan no longer had it in himself to care. And the encroach of orgasm, spilling heatedly into the fleshlight, made it harder still to worry about something like that, grunting and howling mutedly into the gag as he spilt his load, filling what he could with languid dribbles.

"Oh, that's a pathetic offering," Trinity said, tutting and shaking her head. "Try again!"

He was forced on, even though his cock was too sensitive. But then Trinity's paws were no longer on him and yet the fleshlight still moved, groping and grasping at his cock as if it yearned to pull more than seed from him. He squirmed and panted but there was no breath that would tease out the tightness in his chest, his sister sitting back with a glass of expensive liquor - he forgot what had been given to him - to enjoy the show.

"The pump will do its job, foxy-boi," she smirked. "Enjoy... Well, cum for us. We don't really care whether you enjoy or not."

That much was evident as his cock was pumped and pumped, stimulated over and over again, past the point that he could feel any pleasure from the squeeze, groping caress at all. The fleshlight slickened with his cum and he lost track of whether he was climaxing or not, pleasure tainted by pain even as his girlfriend squeezed and rolled his nuts between her fingers.

"Oh, I'm sure you can get a bit more cum out of these..."

Her squeeze did indeed force some more out but it was pathetic, weak, seed flooding the tube very slowly, although it was something else, a part of the machine under the table that he was hooked up to, that drew his cum slowly up the tube, sucked and drawn there in a pulse of kinetic energy. He didn't have to understand what was going on, one orgasm teased through milking into the next, a shaft pressing up under his tail as he was toyed with, a dildo finding its way up under there. Guided by his mother's paw, it drove deep and he grunted around the tube, eyes wide and more wakeful as he watched with due trepidation how his cum worked its way up and up the tube, against the fall of gravity.

"Huff..." His mother furrowed her brow, digging her fingers into his rump as if she was crudely trying to loosen him up. "You got to really work it in there to milk him!"

Yet when the toy hit his prostate and was taking over by Jessica, he was lost to everything. Trinity's dominant eyes bored into him but the others were naked blurs moving around him, abusing and toying, cum filling the tube, closer and closer to his lips. He barely felt the pain of rude entry without lubrication under his tail but that was, perhaps, for the best as they did not allow him any time to recover or adjust to it, forcing him on. For that was the way of it when he was at the bottom of the pecking order, strain rather than orgasm pulsing through him, driving him into the table, which was, at least, some sense of solidarity in a world that thrummed around him, holding no true shape nor form.

There was no climax. Well, he'd had climaxes but they felt the same, painful and needy, leaving him more desperate than he had been when he'd begun. His wrists burned with the rope Trinity had used to tie him down and he twisted and fought, humping and grinding against the pounding push of the fleshlight, the whirr of the machine that it was connected to ringing softly in his ears. It was a fitting backdrop, however, to his debasement, as the dildo was swapped for a larger vibrating butt plug that wedged right up against that sensitive patch under his tail, buzzing away as his girlfriend laughed and planted a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek. Her paw on his backside, prodding and poking the toy deeper, was just the cherry on top of the slickly sweet icing that he would never get to eat.

"You enjoy that! You've earned it!"

Had he? It was not something that he wanted to earn, something that he wanted gone - even chastity would be better! - and, still, it was not to be. The sinking feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach was all too familiar as the light flipped off and they left him there, thrashing minutely (the bonds were too tight for more) and writhing, panting and heaving, his eyes wide and desperate... And yet there was no one there to hear him, to save him, as they left him to his birthday night, the hat still askew atop his head and his cock cursedly locked into the milking machine.

Leaving him there with the light switched off, he was not to be treated to a nicer end to his birthday, panting heavily and working his hips, wanting release as much as he wanted respite. And, still, the vibrator lodged in his tail hole forced him to climax over and over again, milking his prostate and feeding him every last drop of his own cum, even as his eyelids drooped in the need for sleep. Yet what need did he have for sleep when his family had so much use left to make of him?

No... No. He was their brother, their son, their fox. He had to be a good fox, yes, a good birthday boy. That was all there was to it, even as he gnawed and desperately clamped his teeth around the tube, howling in the dark of the night while the rest of his family slumbered peacefully, the taste of his own cum thick in his mouth as he was milked and milked and milked.

Release would be a long time coming.