Novelas y relatos de Furries

Two foxies immediately jumped on them, each placing themselves on Jai and Darrion’s thighs and making themselves comfortable. “What are these creatures?” Jai asked, patting the foxy that was lying on his thigh. It looked like a mix of a fox and an axolotl. It has the body of a chubby baby fox, and three pairs of protruding furs that are different in color on each side of their faces. The body fur is pure white while the three pairs of furs are green in color. “They’re very cute.” The dragon smiled and took the other foxy into her arms. “These are Grenyas. They’re the predictors of weathers. If there’s a storm coming, I will not open the portal for them to play outside…”

Only that they were not a fan of him and his ways, which were quite barbaric and that I had to admit. “So, this is it, huh? Nothing else in the Black Forest?” I wished to confirm it to him. He looked up. There, I saw his fellow Furezos up in the trees, slowly emerging at looking at us with contempt. They emitted dangerous auras, which I didn’t take for granted. After all, there were too many of them around here. It was their territory. It was like the trees bore them like fruits, not counting the ones who stayed in their respective dwellings on the ground who also slowly emerged like the ones who were up in the trees. If my sight was poor, I couldn’t see them because of their blackness. I mu

And slowly, something starts to come out of the ashes. A black creature with black fur and red eyes. No bigger than any of the logs. Limping out of the brick fireplace and letting out small coughs like a little child. It's a Rogue. A baby. A pup.

“The auction begins in twenty minutes. Submissives volunteer. Bidders win one night—whatever they desire, within negotiated limits. Safe word enforced. Everything recorded for security. No names required.” She leaned closer. “You’d fetch a high price.” Lila’s breath caught. She should leave. She stayed. Twenty minutes later, the lights dimmed. A spotlight hit the stage. The auctioneer—a tall, androgynous figure in a tailored tux—stepped forward. “Lot One,” they announced smoothly. “A delicious newcomer. Virgin to our stage. Limits: no blood, no permanent marks, no scat. Everything else… negotiable.” Lila’s heart slammed against her ribs.

At our class reunion, my so-called best friend, Shannon Drew, pulled out a box stuffed with folded notes. A line was taped across the top— [Draw one of Mia Martinez's hopeless-romantic quotes.] The room burst out laughing. Someone pulled a love letter I'd written to Damien Byford senior year. "Damien smiled at me today. I want to give him all my tomorrows, too." Someone else grabbed one from college. "It's okay if he doesn't text back. He'll think of me when he's not busy." Damien had never replied to a single letter. I'd always figured he'd tossed them years ago. Then Shannon drew letter No. 99. Leaning against Damien, she laughed as she read, "If you ever decide you don't want m

The werefox alpha was already laughing loudly with a group of hybrids, tail swishing behind her. Some leaders had come with their true mates. You could tell by the way they stayed close, hands brushing, scents tangled together. Others brought mistresses or consorts, pretty distractions to make the night easier. Ronan caught sight of a demon prince with two beautiful companions draped over him, all sharp smiles and glowing eyes. Normal for these things. Nobody judged too openly here.

I glance at Clayton, he just shrugs his shoulders. Twenty minutes later we are ready to shift and continue, the older female wolf is little and lean just like her but it’s fit. Its warm mahogany coloured fur shines in the high morning sunshine, as soon as I shift it comes and submits to me showing me its neck. My wolf squares her shoulders in pride, I feel our mate step up behind us giving us our moment.

His drink contains some herbs that soothe and ease a wolf’s nerves and helps them relax, blended with some herbs that heighten their sensual side. The fox is not just any fox, which is partially why they are so hyperactive and flirtatious. They are a Kitsuné, which is extremely rare and never male. It is especially odd that this Kitsuné has a penis maybe that is why they have the hips, ass and chest of a female.

Overflowing hands, not to mention him practically tripping over his own feet. The designation Rourke and I give pets is very much based on personality rather than interest in bestiality or fuzzy type role play. Over the years our tastes have more or less melded in the same way our hell no lists synched when we started. Bestiality and pseudo bestially of pet play being among them. “Mornin’ Sarge,” unlike most, I guess Grimm is used to Rourke’s size. Smiling rather than cowering at the giant that most men piss their pants at.

I led Winter into the woods, finding a secluded spot, and patiently waited for her to shift. Observing her quietly, I marvelled as she gracefully removed her clothes and transformed into her wolf form, the elegant and beautiful Kira. Her fur, a soothing beige, looked incredibly soft and abundant, setting her apart from the typical appearance of a wolf. It gave her an air of gentleness and fragility, but I knew better than to underestimate her; as a gamma, Kira possessed strength and resilience.