Blue on Black
By Todd M Little

On an intergalactic ship deep in space, traveling between wormhole gates:
Bitchy is posing as a stewardess and is in the mist of doing a favor for one of the passengers. Bitchy carries me on her back, my wrists tied to my footpaws with a red ribbon and a red caped hood tied around my neck. Mole questions about me and she responds that I'm hir favorite plushy. She takes me off and makes me nuzzle nose to nose with the mole, bounces my little limp vulpine form playfully, and then sets me down on the pillow of the bed to watch them.
Bitchy fondles the femme mole's body furotically, nuzzling her here and there, winking and raspberrying me from time to time, and then starts biting off the buttons on her light sweater, swallowing them down like pills. Slips hir paws up past her dress and under her bra, and strokes hir paw pads again the mole's hardening nipples as she nibbles lightly on the underside of her muzzle. They coo and nuzzle noses and then Bitchy licks her nose, then her lips, then her chin, and keeps advancing, opening hir mouth wider and engulfing more of the close-eyed moless's head, lightly raking hir teeth across her fine velvety black fur, a cheeky twinkle in hir eyes and saliva dripping eagerly from hir mate's-nipples-stroking tongue. Feeling Bitchy's hot breath around her head and her own breath being lessened, the moless opens her eyes, eeps, and pushes the vixen away.
Smiling lustfully, Bitchy mrrrs at the aghast mole, slides backwards off the bed, and starts slowly belly dances and strip teases hir way to all fours. Then swaggering back up to the apprehensive femme, she licks one of her footpaws at a time, but the lady mole pulls away when she tries to bind them together with hir tongue to stick them both in hir mouth.
"Tisk tisk tisk. *yiff yiff* You're not playing along like your suppose to", the vixen scolds playfully as she grabs one of the mole's footpaws with a paw and uses the other to tickle the underside with hir claws.
"*Auk* Playing along? *eh* You're * heh heh* trying to eat me."
"*Giggle* No, I'm not. *titter yiff yiff* I'm trying to swallow you", she answers wistfully with a coy smile on hir pointy muzzle and a cheeky twinkle in hir off-color eyes, as she pants happy and wags hir long bushy tail. "Tim likes that." She motions with a wink at my limp and seemingly lifeless form.
"What?" Looks at my vacant, unblinking, expression. She pokes me experimentally on the forehead and the side, and then looks at me more closely ready to say something.
"*Whimper whimper* Don't you want to be in my tummy?” Bitchy whimpers, dropping hir ears sadly and looking beggingly at the mole with watery eyes and quivering lip.
"... No," the moless replied apprehensively as she looks at the pawing vixen, whom looks like she'd cry a river at any second, "I *eh* thought we were, you offered to-"
"Yiff! *pant pant* You want to yiff? *yip yip* I can do that! *yiff yiff*", the vixen yapped excitedly, hir ears at attention, hir long tongue hanging out at she pants in exuberance, hir tail drumming on the floor.
"Gah!" is all the mole could get out before the vixen was on top of her and ripping away her clothing with teeth and claws.
As they tussled and rolled around on the bed, fighting each other over possession and position of the moless's dress, the pudgy femme was aware that she was getting scratched at almost randomly, but she finally got from hir, off the bed, and into a corner, she was unmarred and though her dress was cut up like a doily, it was mostly intact and still covered her modestly. Her sweater and bra are gone and nowhere in sight. As the lady mole pulls back farther into the corner and crosses her arms protectively across her dark ample breasts, the petite red vixen lets out a cute little burp and runs her dripping tongue across hir rows of sharp conical teeth. In the tussle, I've fallen off the bed and I look at the frightened she-mole upside down, flopped over myself helplessly in a crash victim position.
Snickering to hirself, Bitchy picks me up and drapes me between hir pointy ears, in the nest of hir long, golden headfur, as she saunters over to the cowering fur.
"*yerf* What's wrong? *arf yip* Did I hurt you?"
"You're mad! Get away from me!"
"I'm not mad. *yip yip* Why should I be mad? *arr* Didn't you like the heavy petting?"
"No!"
"Don't you want to strip for me? *yiff yiff* Don't you want to yiff me?"
"Hell no!"
"*ah* Too bad" Bitchy darts hir tongue out, wraps a prehensile length of it around a strong chunk of her dress, and tugs it into hir mouth.
The mole's dress rips at the tears she'd made previously and within seconds disappears into the vortex of hir deep throat. The lady mole is now completely exposed to the heated vixen, and she's practically dripping from hir maw, nipples, and muff at the site of the voluptuous dark form before hir. After petting her some more and rubbing my silky soft underbelly against her affectionately, Bitchy hands me over to the moless and starts muzzle-yiffing her.
Eyes closed, on the floor in the corner, and holding the me close in whatever comfort she can draw from my young arctic kit body, she lets the vixen fondle and lick her groin inside and out, her tension only making the vixen's touches that much more electrifying. Too soon into the foreplay, the husband comes in and is shocked at the scene before him. His wife is scared witless and kicks Bitchy as she clambers away to find something to cover herself with, taking my comatosed self with her.
Bitchy growls at husband, who in turn slaps hir in the face with his great digging claws as his wife wraps herself with the bed's covers. There are gashes on Bitchy's cheek and she touches it testingly with a paw as she looks in shock at the moles.
"*Chirr* What'd you do that for?"
"You filthy dike whore! Be glad I don't kill you for doing that to my wife." He gives his crying mate an evil eye. "My ex-wife!"
"Edger, please! *whimper whimper* She forced herself on me! You should have seen what she did to my beautiful dress."
"*Chirr yap yap* She's better off without a stuck up, scat-for-brains, nobody-"
Mole backhands Bitchy, knocking hir to the floor. Wife pleads for him to stop. Husband threatens to punish her, too, if she doesn't stop her sniveling and pack up her stuff. Bitchy hisses and stands back up, saying that his wife isn't going anywhere because they haven't finished yiffing yet and she knows he could never yiff her properly.
Enraged, the male mole strikes at hir harder, intent to seriously harming hir, and she parries the claws with one forearm, as she snaps out hir extended razor-sharp claws from the opposite paw. A devilish, shark-toothed grin creases the vixen's face as servos easily overpower the strong muscles in the male's arms and the ceiling lights glint off hir self-oiling, forearm long attack claws.
"*Snicker* Tisk tisk tisk. *yiff yiff* Don't you know it's not right to hit a lady" slashes open the husband's portly belly with a single swipe of hir four sharp blades "*giggle* and shouldn't you know better than to never, ever," skewers all eight claws into the prominent girth of the he-mole's midsection and lifts him off the ground, grinning toothily "ever interrupt a vixen in heat when she's yiffing some fur."
"Please. *sob* Please, for the love of Gaud, please don't harm him."
Bitchy looked skeptically down at the stream of blood flowing down the mole’s legs to pool on the floor below him, and then cocks hir head curiously at the femme mole, who's cowering in the opposite corner.
"*Arr* A bit late for that, don't you think, sweet cheeks. *pant pant* Oh, don't worry. *yip yip* Don't you go shedding those cute little tears of yours needlessly. *mrrr pant pant* I wouldn't let a beefcake like him go to waste *yap* No, soirée."
Husband mole has gone into shock from blood loss. Laps at and directs the mole's head into hir maw with hir tongue and suck on its velvety fur, mrrring. As wife watches, petrified, again trying to find comfort in squeezing the meat plushy kit to her deep bosom, Bitchy slowly swallows the mole down bit by bit, all the while trying to coax the wife to come over and help hir consume her husband, or yiff hir in mid-feeding. Wife refuses to both, transfixed on her disappearing mate. When the male has completely been consumed, Bitchy burps loudly and happily, and there's an agonizing moan from the kit on the lady mole's arms.
Taken off guard and not believing what she's heard, the mole widow looks down and kit's face screwed in agonizing migraine pain. Again, a moan escaped his throat.
"*Teehee* Oops *snicker yiff yiff* I woke him up", Malady coos cheekily before belching again and licking hir chops.
"Good Lord!", the lady mole gasped as she held out the still limp and bound snow white young canine at arms length by the armpits, the once room temperature body slowly and noticeably warming up and the small underbelly now rising and falling in relaxed breath. "What did you?... How could you?..." Looks past the bowed head of the fox kit at the bloated vixen on the floor angrily. "You satanic-"
Bitchy's haphazardly stretched tummy burbles soupishly, prompting an avid self-scritching from hir. "Bitch. *heh* Thank you. *mrrr pant pant* But he was only resting. *yip yip* Chemistry and biology really, not Satanism or any of that evil mumbo jumbo. *chirr* No, none of that evil stuff." pats belly playfully and it gurgles and groans in hyperactiveness.
"*gasp* I'm out of here!" Starts heading for the door with Tim on her arms more supportively.
"*snicker* No, you aren't. *BUUURP*" Mole's legs fall asleep and she trips and falls for her hands and knees, lightly tossing the kit to her side so she doesn't accidentally hurt him while saving herself. "I've tasted you. *snicker yiff yiff* You're body is mine."
Kneads softening belly playfully with all four paws as she snickers to hirself. The pins and needles had by now mostly passed from my body as reactivated muscles and nerve endings stopped misfiring in exercise and began trying to do their intended jobs with a bit of sense.
It could be said that at this point I awoke from my vore dream and opened my eyes to a completely similar crime scene. The lady mole was looking at me, maybe seeing what I'd do or pleading for advise for physical help, but all that escaped my dry mouth as I continued to lay on the ground and stare back at her with sad icy blue eyes, was, "*mrrph*" After coughing and wetting my chows, I tried again, "I can't help you." And then I closed my tearing eyes as Malady rocking back and forth onto her sloshing and more jiggly grotesquely bloated belly, and continued as she got into a modified sitting position on her haunches, panting happily with hir long tongue dangling out of hir maw to lick the hard nipples of hir heavy, melon breasts, "I'm just a kit. I can't help anyone."
The lady mole nodded to me slowly and respectfully, and then turned her attention to the vixen waiting for her next move. With a belly that large, she figured the she-fox was even more handicapped than herself and so started crawling for the door. Bitchy, finding this funny, grinned from ear to ear and then pushed herself forwards in mock pursuit of the mole until she was lying on top of hir massive belly, the tips of her paws just barely touching the ground as she squeezed hir gut.