Furry Fanatic vs. Sex-Crazed Demon
"But you know, no matter what your mouth says, your tails are being awfully honest right now."
At her words I twisted around to check my luscious tails — and sure enough, against every scrap of my will, they were thrashing about, wagging furiously back and forth.
"See? Your lips say no, but deep down you're dying to mate. There's no other reason tails would be thrashing like that."
"No… th-this doesn't mean I want to mate at all!"
"So dishonest. When a canine's tail wags that hard, it means they're happy. Which is to say…"
The black fox sidled up with a face full of pure lust, dragged her tongue across my ear, and whispered:
"It means you're genuinely looking forward to mating with that Raksasa over there. Well? Still think I'm wrong?"
At that, the guy who'd been keeping quiet finally opened his mouth.
"Wow. You called me a ball-buddy and treated me like some gay bastard trying to tap that — turns out you were the gayer one all along."
"You fucking asshole! You're actually buying that crap? It's bullshit from start to finish, you moron!"
"Kinda have to believe it. The word of a spirit beast who's lived eight hundred seventy years is a hell of a lot more trustworthy than a two-month gumiho rookie."
"Shut your crazy mouth and drag this bitch off me already — she's been spewing garbage this whole time!"
"I dunno, seems pretty solid to me. Entertaining, too."
He was smiling, clearly enjoying the whole mess — until the black fox's next words wiped the look clean off his face.
"So what exactly is the relationship between you two? Are you really just friends?"
"For now, yeah. Up until a month ago we were straight-up ball-buddies."
"Oho… so you're not lovers yet, then?"
"Maybe someday. Not right now, though."
The eight-tailed fox's eyes lit up at his answer. She suddenly scooped me into her arms and sneered at him.
"Then I can just take this one, right? You're not even dating, so it's not like I'm stealing anyone."
"Do I look like a piece of property, you psycho bitch? And for the record, I have zero interest in dating a lunatic like you!"
"Aww, once we live together for a while you'll be so drunk on my charms you won't be able to crawl out. Don't worry about it — just go out with me!"
And with that, before I could get a word in, she bound me tight in all eight of her tails.
Watching this, my friend started staring the black fox down, murder rolling off him in waves.
"Let go of those tails before I rip them off."
"Why? This is nothing but a little affection. You're not even a couple — don't try to come between us."
"You don't see how miserable that looks? Face all red, those gorgeous tails hanging limp?"
"That's just from being drunk on the pleasure my tails are giving. Tails going limp works on the same principle as a human body going slack after orgasm."
…I hated to admit it, but she was terrifyingly correct.
Eight rough yet warm tails wrapped my entire body. The sweet, musky fox-scent rolling off them short-circuited my reason in the weirdest way, and while five tails kept me pinned, the remaining ones roamed everywhere, tickling and wringing out pure pleasure. Bound by her, I couldn't do a single thing — just hung there limp and took it.
"Go on, look. Your perverted little friend, climaxing from nothing but a light touch of my tails. Unlike a mere human like you, I can give this one incredible pleasure."
She kept flaunting me — toyed with and ruined by her tails — right in my friend's face, mocking him without end. So he grabbed one of those tails with everything he had, and—
Slurp.
Without a second of hesitation, he started licking it.
"Wh-what do you think you're doing?! Why are you licking someone else's precious tail?!"
The sudden act of insanity shocked the eight-tailed fox so hard her grip went slack. She tried to yank the tail back from his filthy performance, but—
"Hey, gumiho. You know why a snapping turtle is such a terrifying animal?"
"…?"
"Because once it bites down, it does not let go until one of you is dead."
Spouting that nonsense while he kept right on licking, he left her unable to reclaim the tail at all — and she collapsed on the spot.
"Hngh♡ S-stoooop♡ Y-you lunatic, I said stooop♡"
"Did you stop when someone told you to? Everything happening to you is your own karma. Take it quietly."
My friend fixed the black fox with a dangerous look and worked that tail over with absolute dedication. True to form as a furry, he didn't lay a single finger on any of her humanized parts — just the tail, endlessly. The sheer commitment of it made me smack my own forehead.
This bastard was the real deal. A genuine furry freak. Never fails to live down to expectations.
How do you look at a fox beastkin pinned under a muscular body, panting her lungs out, and still fixate exclusively on the tail? If that had been me, I genuinely don't think I could've held back from going all the way to a one-night stand.
I was shaking my head at the same old furry-fanatic behavior when the black fox — tears welling up — let out a string of lewd moans and declared her surrender.
"S-stoop♡ Hic?! I-I can't take any more pleasure♡ If this keeps up I'll revert to my original form♡♡♡"
"Then go ahead and revert. Your original form gets me even harder."
"K-keeeeng!!! Then I'll really be defiled… Defiled by some filthy man♡"
"Isn't that the whole appeal of a guy crashing a yuri scene? Lie still and get tainted. Take my color! You little monster!"
At that absolute garbage coming out of his mouth, I carefully picked up the already-warped frying pan.
What? A guy crashing yuri?
Why was this non-dog bastard barking pure dogshit?
At first, watching the eight-tailed fox get tormented had been deeply satisfying. Then he opened his mouth about "a guy crashing yuri," and my entire opinion flipped.
Yuri only means something when it stays pure yuri.
Anyone who spews garbage about men crashing yuri needs their skull cracked open.
I closed the distance to the idiot still too busy molesting the black fox to notice anything, wound up, and swung the frying pan at his head with every ounce of strength I had.
"RAAH!!!"
CLAAAAANG!!!!!!!!!!
Putting full power into the frying-pan strike actually worked — my friend dropped unconscious on the spot. The truly impressive part: for all that magnificent noise, there wasn't so much as a bump on his head, let alone a bruise.
I clicked my tongue in awe at the sheer durability of a bald scalp, then looked down at the black fox, still slick with his drool.
"Hngh… Defiled by an intruding man… I'll never be able to get married now…"
Lewd moans and filthy little lines kept spilling out of her without pause. Even a gay guy would've gotten hard looking at her like that — wrecked and disheveled — so I quietly pulled out my phone and saved her to my gallery.
Nice. Material this hot would cover at least a full month of happy time, no problem.
A fox beastkin thoroughly ruined and moaning like that… yeah, there was no way I was holding out against this one.
I was still wearing a satisfied smile over scoring such premium fap material when I glanced back toward the black fox — and she was already gone from the floor.
Had the shame of being defiled by a man made her run? Or had she left because she didn't want to get defiled any further?
Either way, it seemed like she'd cleared out of the house, so I hummed a little tune and turned around. Unfortunately, what was waiting behind me was—
"Hah… hah… This body, defiled by a man's touch, needs to be purified… You'll cooperate, of course?"
The black fox stood there drooling like something with rabies, eyeing me up and licking her chops.
Fuck.
Of course. Of course there was a penalty for scoring a month's worth of fap material that easily.
No, seriously — why did every single time I landed god-tier fap material come with a crisis attached?
I find the masterpiece of a lifetime and suddenly I'm a fox beastkin. I lust after the Fox God and end up collapsing in a pool of my own blood. And now I score a month of material and I'm about to get railed into the dirt?
"This is fetish discrimination, you bastards! Other people pull incredible fap material with zero risk — why does every score of mine come with a death flag?!"
"In this lady's estimation, the whole of it stems from lusting after foxes. Had you never directed such desire at fox-related things in the first place, none of this would have befallen you."
"Don't give me that shit! If I can't lust after fox beastkin then I choose death! I'd rather die than live in a world where I can't say something's hot when it's hot!"
"You've gone thoroughly mad. But the matter of import at present is hardly how arousing fox beastkin may be, is it? Should you not be defending your chastity from that lust-addled monster?"
At the Fox God's words, I raised the frying pan — one hit from shattering completely — and leveled it at the black fox.
"Yeah, fair point. I'm a man. I'm supposed to be the one taking other people's chastity. Getting mine taken makes no goddamn sense."
"This lady predicts it shall be seized within ten seconds, and quite thoroughly at that."
"Would it kill you to say something a little more optimistic?"
"There is simply nothing optimistic to be found, hence the phrasing. Even you must sense you cannot win against that creature, no?"
I tightened my grip on the frying pan and glared at the black fox in front of me.
"You never know until you measure. Even the smallest thing can become an eighteen-centimeter monster once it's hard."
"This lady prides herself on having lived a rather dissolute life, and yet never once encountered the case you describe."
The Fox God kept sniping from the sidelines while I was about to enter a blood feud with a sex-crazed demon. I snapped at her and swung the frying pan at the black fox charging straight for my chastity.
"If you can't help, then shut your mouth, you useless bitch."
"So if this lady does help, she may keep talking?"
"Obviously."
Permission granted, the Fox God beamed — and hijacked my body outright.
"Then I shall borrow your body for a moment."