Frotting the Fox

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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The fox moaned, flat on his back on the bed, hands bound up high above his head. It didn't matter where his hands were, not really, not when there was nothing at all that he could do to get them down to his cock. Not that Orrin wasn't hard and turned on enough as it was, his cock with the knot at the base already half inflated, though the red fox had not been allowed to cum, not yet.

Maybe it wasn't for him to decide, he thought as he looked up at his bull partner, the black bull's tongue flicking out against the side of his muzzle. Maybe that was why he had had to submit to a prey animal, even if bulls and foxes were not all that often at one another's necks. Ron, however, was everything that the fox was not, big and blocky and bulky, his body heavily muscled in a sense that it all came easily to him.

"You don't need to cum yet, do you?"

Orrin murmured and shook his head, his pink tongue trying to flick out, but he might as well have been gagged for all the good it did him. Ron grinned, though the bull's breath came with greater effort than usual, his black chest glistening with the faintest sheen of sweat. His cock throbbed, aching up against Orrin's, though the fox had been teased and edged for hours already -- or what felt like hours to the vulpine.

That wasn't what Orrin was there for, after all, grunting, groaning, trying not to yelp or to yip, not to show Ron just how much of an effect he was having on him. His cock ached and drooled, though it felt like he had been tied up there, legs kicking weakly and tail flicking, for much longer than he had. Time seemed to lose all meaning when he was grunting in need, biting his lip, the metallic rush of hot blood filling his mouth. That was not all that bad for a fox, but it was bad enough for him to moan through it as Ron ground against him.

It was the first time that night that the bull had done that to him, grinding their dicks together even as Orrin helplessly tried to hump up against him. The fox knew that it wasn't going to get him anywhere, though he still tried to do it, needing it, craving it, panting heavily as he parted his lips in a moan all over again. Licking the blood from his lips, for it was not much, he whined and relished in the sensation of having a throbbing, hot length of fuck meat pressed to his.

"Oh, yes... Ron... Fuck..."

The bull's eyes glittered. Sometimes, Orrin could barely believe that Ron was as wicked as he was, truly. The bull had so many tricks up his sleeve that it was unbelievable.

"What?" He tilted his head and grey horns, eyes dancing with glee. "You didn't think that you were actually getting off today, did you?"

Orrin squirmed. Yes, he had hoped that, but the thought of being denied only made his cock drool even more, as if he well and truly was not in control of his body. That was why it was the bull, using his cock as if he was nothing more than a masturbatory aid to him, that took control. Every hump and grind of those powerful hips brought the little fox, who seemed so much smaller than him in that moment, closer to an orgasm that was never his to take.

"Unnff... Please..."

He didn't want to beg, really, he didn't, but it simply was as if there was not anything else that he could do. He was there to stay, the rope cutting into his wrists, though his fur would do more than enough to protect him, for the time that he would be tied up there.

His cock pulsed and the fox sowre that he felt every throb of lustful blood coursing through it, arousal keeping him hard, keeping him aching. And yet he still felt in excruciating detail just how the bull's dick slid up against him, pumping and pushing, seemingly finding more pleasure in that than grinding into the plushness of his rump.

But it didn't matter, not a single bit of it, not when all the vulpine was there for was to obey, to serve, to be an object of desire for his loving partner -- at least within the limits of their scene. No more than that was needed, not even then, allowing him to slip away, languishing in the feel of Ron's dick aching and pulsing, slick pre-cum drooling onto his hot length.

"Ah... Fuck..."

The fox smirked. At least Orrin could still enjoy that tingle of delight. He could still make the bull lose control even when he was tied up -- and if that wasn't a compliment than Orrin didn't know what was. Ron huffed and panted, his fleshy nostrils flaring -- and then orgasm was upon him, spilling his hot, creamy load of seed over the fox's cock and crotch.

Still, Orrin knew that he was not allowed to cum, not even as that hot length of meat ground up against his pole, sliding back and forth, allowing his need to mount and mount. The high would not be realised, not that night, not even as he whined and whimpered, though there was a part of Orrin's pounding heart that loved that too. Maybe it was what he had needed all along, but, frankly, Orrin didn't care.

He was where he needed to be, with the bull's seed dripping over his cock, as if to lubricate him for more. Even when that more wasn't going to come, quite literally, he was ready for it, his tail trying to wag where it was pinned under his backside, whining throatily, eyes wide and plaintive, doing his best to beg even while his words were stolen from him. Ron's nose dipped to his, nuzzling into his cheek and lower to his neck, but Orrin merely squirmed, grinding against the bull's shaft even as he spent his load.

Being frotted was one thing. Being denied was another.

And Orrin wouldn't have had it any other way.