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.
All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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Sandor knew it was a mistake the moment he walked through the doors.
The meeting of mages had, apparently, been to delve deeper into the properties of stealth magic, set in a building that, once, had been a castle, used to defend the land before magic had come more and more to the forefront of defence and warfare for the powers that were in the land. But as soon as the doors swung open to the old, stone building, reinforced as the years had gone on, hands had closed around his arms, yanking him off his hind paws.
The white fox snarled, but he was not quick enough, his staff knocked from him so that he could not channel his magic effectively, heart racing. They knew that he was coming, only him, and it was not even a pair of mages who disarmed him, whipping his staff away and pinning him to the ground with a knee forcibly rammed down between his shoulder blades. The mage wheezed and grunted, fighting for his life, though any manner of physical defence outside mage craft was not entirely within his repertoire. Once he'd devoted his life to the study of magic, he'd let slide any means of non-magical self-defence, merely for a lack of time, but it seemed that that was going to be his downfall.
"To think you were that slow to work it out," a tiger sneered, his rich, orange coat struck through with traditional black stripes. "Disgusting mage..."
Sandor wheezed, face pressed into the floorboards, though he was just about able to take stock of his captors. Two tigers, though one had a darker orange coat than the other, their faces twisted into twin snarls that seemed perfectly fitting for muzzles that were only ugly because they were contorted in rage. He tried to speak, but a heavy hand clamped his jaws shut, the tigers bare-chested and shuddering with fury.
He would have asked them what they wanted if they had been amenable to that, but there was no time, not as their claws shredded his clothes, the long, flowing robes that he had worn for that meeting. The fine cloth fell from his body, undergarments ruined and all, as the dying rays of sunset slanted through the large windows though, without anyone knowing that he was there, there was no hope of anyone seeing him through them.
No... Sandor was entirely at the mercy of the tigers as they released him, only to loom and tower over him, freeing their cocks as they disrobed fully. The fox panted heavily in the shreds of his clothing, freezing in place where fight and flight, in that instance, did not seem to apply. He couldn't have gotten to the door in time and his eyes darted to his staff -- but the bigger of the muscular tigers kicked it out of reach, dragging him to him.
"We'll teach you for making us look bad," he snarled, grinding something hard against Sandor's backside, something that made the fox's heart chill abruptly. "You... You didn't have to go around acting like you're the best, so far outstripping the rest of us! You're just as worthless as the rest of us."
The other tiger growled, even as Sandor was forced back, pain lancing through him. For the tiger's hard cock bore insistently into the unprotected tail hole, forcing a screaming from his throat. There was no warning, only burning pain as panic clawed at him, even as he was driven down and back onto the hot rod of flesh, a cock too big for him to take comfortably, as much as his stomach lurched and heart pounded.
"No..."
His plea was whispered, too quiet for anyone to take note of, though the tiger hunched over him. There was no warm-up, no waiting for him to adjust to the tiger's thick girth, only a rough pound, slamming into him as if the tiger had one thought and one thought alone in his mind.
The humiliation of Sandor. Forcing him down, pinned where he belonged, claws digging into the fox's arms as blood pricked to life, dampening his white fur very slightly. He was only fortunate, as great, big, heaving breaths raked through his lungs and windpipe, that the tiger's claws did not sink any deeper than they did.
"If you'd kept in your place and not made the rest of us look bad," he hissed, slamming into Sandor as the fox howled. "Then...maybe...unff...we wouldn't have to do this to you."
He groaned. It was telling, in a way, that he did not recognise the tigers, though it sounded quite as if they were also mages where he was training. He was just so focused on his studies and betterment that he barely even knew who was around him, unless he was directly training them. But whatever conflict the tiger mages, so much stronger and more muscular than he was, had with him, it was not a conflict that Sandor honestly knew anything about.
"No..." He clawed at breath, eyes desperate, flicking from one to the other. "Don't... Unff... Never meant...any harm."
But the tigers only laughed and shook their heads, one spitting on him as Sandor shuddered. His cock rushed with heat, half-throbbing, but the strange arousal that his body was forced into could not come through to the forefront, not with such a heavy presence in his backdoor passage. They were set to take his revenge on them, all for some perceived slight in Sandor outranking them, perhaps putting more inadvertent pressure on them, at the mage's academy, and those seeking such dark pleasures were rare to see or find any kind of sense.