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.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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The bay stallion shivered, down on his knees, though he was not dressed as he usually would have been. With a latex thong on, the feeling of it cut between his rear cheeks, showing off the muscle he had there, even though it didn't seem like anything at all, considering all that his father had done to him, all that he had lustfully had him do. It cradled his balls, the only modicum of support allowed to him, though the bulge of his sheath and trapped, half-swollen cock showed through the shiny front of it.
"Whore-filly..."
He shivered, the words washing over Jerome. Yes, yes, that's what he was. He didn't need to be any more for his dad, the like-coloured stud of a stallion looming over him. Dom was more muscled than him, with a bit of a thicker gut too, due to his age, but all of them knew their place there, how things were to be different, simply due to the nature of their changing relationship. That was just how Jerome had found himself wearing the under-bust corset too, tightening around his waist, training him to have a narrower, more feminine waist.
Jerome quivered, ears slipping back submissively. He was right where he needed to be and he knew it too. His waist was narrower, pulled in, though he didn't know what to make of it all, the leather of the collar heavy around his neck, always there. It needed to be, yes, really, keeping him in his place, always and forever. Truth be told, Jerome couldn't see any kind of lustful future for himself anymore that didn't include Dom, his father.
Daddy Dom, his dominant father, had turned him into a filly-slut, not even a colt. He couldn't even say anything about it, whimpering, nickering, turning his head away, though his father only grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks to make his lips pucker against his will.
Well... Not much could be against his will when his cock was swelling, trying to push out past the thong with lust for everything.
"Such a pretty filly-slut," Dom chuckled throatily, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "But I've got a bigger and better prick here for you than that little thing..."
His hard shaft pushed up against Jerome's face, demanding attention as he leant back against the kitchen counter, the curtains open -- though what did he care if anyone saw what was going in there? He moaned out loud, not caring for his lust, only knowing that he could get what he needed, sliding the fat head of his cock into his son's mouth.
Like the good filly-slut that Jerome was, he took it all down, gulping and swallowing, much better than he used to be at swallowing everything right then and there. The velvety pull of his lips eased down past the medial ring, the smooth, grey length teasing deeper and deeper into the arms of delicious ecstasy. His skilled son pressed the fleshy width of his tongue up against the underside of his fat prick and Daddy Dom took pleasure in the rock and slide of his hips, paws pressed back, gripping the counter.
He didn't need to consider that his son was pulling back from him, for it was only to drive his muzzle down again and again. Yes, his slut of a son knew what to do, his cock hardening further, the tip flat and half-flared as if he was already going to come.
"That's right, filly..." He crooned, wickedness dancing in his eyes. "You're so hot for daddy, now, aren't you?"
His free paw reached for a chair, the breakfast table not all that far away, scraping and scrabbling, though it was not the moment for finesse. All he needed as the chair a little closer, his son slurping and slobbering on his cock, a little whore who was all too keen to use his muzzle for his pleasure.
Jerome was barely aware of what was happening around him as his father shuffled to the side, sitting in the chair, his legs a little spread, that hard prick of his standing up proudly. Jerome's lips parted from the head of his cock as he whimpered and tried to follow it, though his father's paw was up and in the way as he grunted, tail flicking sensually back and forth.
"Show me what a sweet little filly like you can do for me," he murmured huskily, his voice taking on a softer tone, for he did not need to be coarse to dominate all the time. "That tail of yours... Show me that sweet arse."
Jerome shivered. A lap dance? There was no striptease to be given when he did not have any clothes to disrobe himself off, skin prickling cooling despite the heat coursing through him. What did he do? What did he say? But his lips were already in motion, shifting from side to side, following the swish of his tail for want of a beat, imagining there was music, that he was perhaps in a strip club himself, watching someone on stage.
Yet it was no mystery as to where his inclinations lay, liking males, always having followed them with his eyes. Although he knew that he was a whore-filly to his father, he wanted to be just like those stud-sluts he'd seen dancing before, shaking and swishing their tails all for the lust of the moment. If he imagined he was one of them, throwing a coy glance hither, maybe he could please his father too.
He turned around, bending over, flicking up his tail high. His paw balanced him, touching the ground even as he stood, blushing, nickering, simpering and smacking his own arse. Jerome could not help but feel just a little bit silly, though there was a hungry look in his father's eyes that he could not help but lean into.
"Yesss..."