The Slave
Kitsune25
3-20-02
Rafer carefully descended the cement steps that led down into the dank basement, feeling out of place in his dressy coat, shirt and slacks. He was a tall, thin red fox of about 27, with short, spiked, dark brown hair and matching eyes.
The unpleasant odor of the dimly-lit basement assaulted his nostrils as
he reached the floor and he wrinkled his nose distastefully.
A short, pudgy raccoon with greasy fur greeted him before he could step
forward into the gloom.
“Why are you here?” he demanded suspiciously.
“I desire a personal slave.”
“Very well then.” The
raccoon’s voice became friendly and he led Rafer forward.
“Here they are, they’re the finest that our suppliers could
kidnap.” The slave-dealer swept his arm in a grandiose gesture that
encompassed a row of five young males. Each
one had his wrists bound behind his back and a leather collar around his neck.
“See one that suits your fancy?” the raccoon asked as Rafer squinted
in the dusty light. “This one ‘ere is in very nice shape--”
“What about this one?” Rafer
pointed at the last slave in the row, a kit fox who looked to be in his early
20s, standing with his head down. His
tight tank top and jeans hinted at a body that was in good shape but not overly
muscular, wiry but not too thin.
“Ah, that’s Elijah. He’s
a bit shorter than some of the others, but he’s got a lovely face.”
“Let me take a look at him.”
The slave-dealer grasped Elijah’s chin and roughly
tilted his face up into the feeble light. The
young fox met Rafer’s gaze with startlingly intense blue eyes and then quickly
looked away, his stare returning to the grimy floor.
His facial markings were striking, with dark brown tearlines on his
muzzle and streaks running from the outside corners of his eyes, contrasting
sharply with the pale grey, tan, and white of the rest of his fur.
His dark, straight eyebrows were drawn together in a slight frown.
Rafer circled the slave, gazing appraisingly at his
profile, at his delicate, pointed muzzle and the way his mouth pouted sullenly.
His hair was dark brown, in contrast with his pale fur, and cropped
fairly short. Overall, Elijah was
quite good-looking.
Rafer ran his paws over the young fox’s chest,
stroked his bushy grey and black tail, grasped his firm buttocks, nodded with
approval, and moved his hands around to the front. The slave swallowed audibly as Rafer felt him up.
“Isn’t he darling?
He’s very quiet, and always does as he’s told.”
“I’ll take him,” Rafer decided, fishing in his
coat pocket for his wallet. The
slave-dealer clipped one end of a heavy chain leash on to Elijah’s tight
leather collar and handed the other end to the older fox.
“Come, Elijah,” Rafer said, pulling slightly on
the leash, and the slave trudged toward him, his gaze downcast.
He led his purchase up the stairs, out the back door of the supposedly
abandoned building, and into the tiny parking lot that was well-hidden from the
public view. Once in his car, he
drove Elijah to his sprawling house in the suburbs and led him into his lush
bedroom.
Leaving the kit fox’s wrists bound, Rafer removed
the leash from the collar; Elijah stood quietly on the deep red carpet as the
older fox admired his new possession. The
kit fox’s pale grey and reddish tan fur faded into white on his fore-arms and
feet, as well as on his cheeks, muzzle, and neck, and the insides of his rather
large ears.
“Look at me, Lij,” Rafer murmured, lifting the
young fox’s chin with a gentle hand. Elijah’s
large, wideset eyes pierced into Rafer’s brown gaze. The slight puffiness under the fox’s eyes that hinted at
maltreatment in the hands of the slave-dealer failed to diminish the intensity
of the stare. Rafer thought that he
detected fear in Elijah’s slitted pupils and knitted brow but the young fox
averted his gaze again, his pointed ears flattened submissively.
Rafer stepped toward his slave, pulled him against
his chest, and covered the velvety muzzle with a hard kiss.
Elijah felt deliciously warm and firm against him, the young fox’s
muscles tense with surprise at the sudden show of passion.
Rafer hungrily explored the slave’s wet mouth, caressing the soft fur
of the exposed arms and shoulders. Elijah
let out a low moan, the first sound to come from him since Rafer had bought him.
The older fox pulled away for a breath and was transfixed by the sight of
Elijah’s partially opened mouth, his twitching ears, his heaving chest.
He guided the slave toward the lush bed and shoved him down into the
white sheets and pillows; unable to catch himself because his wrists were still
bound behind his back, Elijah fell forward onto his face.
Rafer pounced on top of him, pinning him down. He nuzzled the back of Elijah’s neck and grabbed his butt,
his claws catching on the worn denim.
“I guess I’ll have to untie you so that I can get
your shirt off,” Rafer realized aloud, and he pulled the cord from his
slave’s chafed wrists. Elijah
lifted his face from the pillows, gasping for breath.
Rafer flipped the young fox over with a rough shove so that he lay on his
back. The older fox admired the way
Elijah’s tight tank top clung to his chest and nearly flat stomach; the slave
was in as good shape as he was himself. “We’ll
have this off as well,” Rafer murmured, straddling the young fox and yanking
the shirt off over his head. He
seized Elijah’s wrists and pinned them to the mattress while he covered the
slave’s neck and chest with hungry kisses.
The young fox breathed rapidly through his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut,
as Rafer’s muzzle moved down his torso, through the thick white fur of his
chest and belly, to the waistline of his jeans.
He gasped and bucked his hips as Rafer released his wrists and squeezed
the bulge revealed by his tight pants.
“Ooh, you’re hard, Lij,” the older fox giggled,
increasing the pressure until Elijah thrashed his head from side to side on the
pillow and moaned. “You want it,
don’t you?” Not waiting for an
answer, Rafer unbuttoned Elijah’s jeans and slowly lowered them over his
narrow hips, pulled them off, and threw them to the floor.
He admired the muscle definition in the slave’s legs, stroked the warm,
white-furred insides of the young fox’s thighs, and lunged at him.
Elijah let out an uncharacteristic cry as claws raked
the length of his bare torso, hard enough to sink through his fur and draw
blood. Rafer pinned him down with
his greater size and sucked at his throat and the underside of his chin; when
the red fox lifted himself up, his white dress-shirt was spotted with crimson.
Sweat dampened the fur on Elijah’s face and neck and body, mingling
with his blood. Rafer yanked him up
by his collar and gave him a long, hard kiss that left him with a bloody lip.
Elijah’s eyes opened again at the unexpectedly
gentle touch of Rafer’s hand on his sheath.
The red fox caressed the slave’s thighs, sending shudders through him,
and then slipped inquisitive fingers under the waistband of his black
boxer-briefs. Elijah moaned and
thrust his hips at the paw fondling his burning erection. Rafer’s gentle fingers explored the young fox’s tight
testicles, and then the sensitive space behind them; Elijah inhaled sharply when
Rafer stuck a finger into him.
“You like that, Lij? How about this?” The
older fox dug around in the dresser next to the bed, retrieved an object, and
then slid Elijah’s underwear from his hips.
Kneeling between the young fox’s legs, he lifted them and bent them
backward, then swept Elijah’s bushy, black-tipped tail out of the way,
exposing his white-furred bottom. Elijah
gasped when Rafer nudged the dildo in, then whimpered when the fox rammed it
deeper.
“You like that?”
Rafer stopped when Elijah’s wide eyes glistened with pain; a tiny
trickle of red ran down the young fox’s thigh and marred the immaculate white
fur.
“Are you all right Lij?” Rafer asked.
The slave was a mess, his heaving chest and half-open muzzle smeared with
blood, his hair and fur plastered to his wet forehead, his eyes squinting and
watery.
“Y-yes,” Elijah replied in a timid, soft voice.
“Good.”
Rafer tossed the dildo onto the floor and lowered himself next to the
young fox, undid his slacks, and rolled Elijah onto his side so that his back
was to Rafer.
Grabbing
the kit fox’s tail and holding it out of the way, the older fox curled himself
around Elijah’s back and entered him from behind.
“Unh.” Elijah grunted as each thrust tore at his wounded backside.
Rafer pulled him against himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his
slave’s ribs, his fingers in the thick fur over his chest, one leg lifted over
Elijah’s hips. He could feel the
young fox’s hot, damp fur and flesh through his clothes, could feel his
pounding heart, and he thrust harder, faster, slamming into him, impaling him.
His own heart beat against his ribcage and his breath grew ragged with
the feel of Elijah’s tight, tight warmth clenched around his erection, with
the sound of Elijah’s pained cries, and with one final convulsive thrust, he
squeezed his eyes shut, crushed his partner against his chest, bared his teeth,
and released himself deep inside of his slave.
“Uh.” Rafer rolled onto his back, slipping out of the young fox,
who remained curled on his side, his tail tucked between his legs.
He gazed blankly at the ceiling as he tried to regain his breath.
“Ah, that was good, now, wasn’t it, Lij?”
“Please, no more,” Elijah whispered, his voice high-pitched and
shaky. Rafer’s semen trickled
down the back of his leg, stained with blood.
“Oh, Lij, please forgive me! I
am so inconsiderate!” Rafer
reached over and pulled on the slave’s shoulder; Elijah rolled limply onto his
back. “Here, is this better?”
He gently stroked the young fox’s hardening sheath and was rewarded
with a twitch. The older fox
giggled and wrapped his hand tightly around the hot shaft as it slid from the
sheath, rubbing his fingers up and down as Elijah’s breaths grew sharp and
rapid. With his other paw, Rafer caressed the slave’s tightened
testicles and the damp space behind them, drawing a gasp from the young fox, who
bucked his hips and curled his fingers into the blood-stained sheets.
He bent his head back, biting his torn lip and squeezing his eyes shut,
his muscles tight and rigid, and Rafer felt Elijah’s erection spasm in his
hand as it spurted hot fluid all over the kit fox’s stomach and chest.
Elijah fell back with a shaky sigh, releasing the sheets from his
straining grip. Rafer bent over and
licked the semen from the young fox’s fading erection, drawing a sharp cry
from the slave. He glanced hungrily
at Elijah’s exhausted face; a second erection throbbed almost painfully as he
thought about the feel of that delicate, velvety muzzle down there….
“Look, Lij, you made me hard again.”
Elijah opened his eyes partway; Rafer kissed him softly on his split
lips, his arousal increasing with the coppery taste of Elijah’s blood.
“Now I want you to blow me.”
The red fox pulled his open pants and underwear off and sat up.
Grabbing Elijah by his hair, he pulled the slave’s head into his lap.
“Go on.”
Despite being exhausted and sore after Rafer’s
rough handling, Elijah was true to the slave-dealer’s words and did as he was
told. Rafer tangled his fingers in
the young fox’s short, tousled hair and forced his head up and down, thrusting
deep into Elijah’s deliciously warm and wet mouth.
It didn’t take long for an orgasm to shudder through his body and he
pulled out of Elijah’s mouth at the last second, spurting into the slave’s
face.
“Oops, sorry about that!”
Elijah raised an unsteady hand to his face and wiped the sticky, burning
fluid from his eyes and muzzle. Rafer
stretched out languorously beside him.
“Now that was fun, wasn’t it, Lij?
Let’s get in the shower and get you cleaned up.”
“Oh…right.” His tired
gaze downcast, Elijah rolled wearily to the edge of the bed and stood, his
shoulders slumped. The fur on his
face, chest, and legs was stained with a mixture of sweat, blood, and semen. Snapping the leash onto the slave’s collar, Rafer yanked on
it and Elijah stumbled after him, into the large master bathroom.
The room was immaculate, white tile and tasteful gold trim, a hot tub and
a huge shower stall with clear glass doors.
Rafer took his sweat-stained shirt and Elijah’s leather collar off so
that the two of them were entirely nude, guided the slave into the shower and
followed him in.
With the water so hot that it steamed up the glass walls, Rafer tenderly
caressed the young fox and rinsed the grime from his soft fur.
He pulled him close, feeling for the first time Elijah’s firm body
against his own bare hide. Exhausted
by the night’s proceedings and the steaming water, Elijah leaned his head on
Rafer’s shoulder and the older fox ran his fingers through the slave’s wet
hair and along the edges of his pointed ears.
“Poor Lij, so tired,” Rafer murmured.
“Why don’t you come to bed with me?”
He turned off the water, dried himself and his partner, and led the young
fox back to the bed.
Elijah collapsed among the lush sheets and pillows and was out in
seconds, his sides rising and falling rhythmically.
Rafer gazed at his sleeping slave, at the slight crease between his
slanted eyebrows, the way his lips remained just the slightest bit parted in the
middle, showing a glimpse of sharp white teeth.
Rafer curled himself around Elijah’s bare body and fell asleep that
way.