Fox Hunt

The nameless kitsune fled through the forest as quickly as her legs could take her, ignoring the brambles that ripped at her clothes and skin during her mad dash. She didn’t know what she was running towards and didn’t care. What mattered was getting away. Behind her, the hounds were baying, eager for permission to begin the hunt. There were hundreds of them, and they would all be relentless.

She’d been running for barely two minutes when the howls of the dogs began to grow louder instead of softer: they were on the move, and gaining quickly. Her heart thudded in her chest as she imagined she could feel their breath on her legs, ready to pounce. She didn’t dare to look behind her. If there was nothing, it would only give her false hope. If she spotted her pursuers, emotion would steal her reason.

Her trepidation increased when her path was blocked by a wide, slow moving river some fifty feet across. A glance from side to side showed no sign of a bridge. The water offered the opportunity to gain some distance; the hounds wouldn’t pay it any mind, but they never strayed far from their masters, who would seek a dry way to cross. But crossing it was also going to slow her down, and might put her right in their hands.

The golden fox woman dashed headlong into the water, having no time to hesitate and ponder. Her wet clothes clung to her skin as she began swimming across, eyes fixed on the opposite shore. The air had the warmth of an early spring, but the river was ice cold, and being in it was physically painful. Mere seconds was all it took for her to start losing feeling in her limbs, and her limber movements became slower and more erratic. Her tails were soon waterlogged and heavy, further reducing her pace.

Before she was halfway across she heard splashing as multiple somethings entered the water behind her. She tried to ignore them and focus on the shore, which was growing closer with each clumsy paddle. She was almost there, if she could just…

Teeth closed around her right leg, suddenly and violently arresting her movement. The kitsune cried out in terror, and tried to kick at the beast, but the water and her numb legs made the attempt worse than useless. Another set of jaws grabbed her other leg, and she was hauled backwards, away from the safety that the far shore had offered. Her panicked struggles as they dragged her accomplished nothing but making her choke on an inadvertent mouthful of water.

Once out of the river, she was still freezing cold, and her teeth chattered as the dogs released her. She laid spread out in the dirt, too numb to get up, weakly coughing out river water. A heavy boot nudged her side, gently but firmly forcing her to roll over onto her stomach, whereupon hands pulled her knees up and forced her pants down.

The kitsune whined softly as the man’s cock penetrated her, breaking through her restored hymen without hesitation. Being raped was far from a new experience for her, but still a hated one. Compared to the chill of the river that clung to her, his prick felt impossibly hot, as though it would burn her as it fucked her.

“Mmm,” purred the man, speaking directly into her ear as he started pumping in and out of her, ignoring her struggles. “Your skin is cold to the touch, but your insides are as warm and welcoming as ever, Omanko-no-Keba. I like it!”

Omanko-no-Keba: Pussy Fuzz. She loathed that name. Despised it with every fibre of her being. That was why their master had chosen it. He wouldn’t even allow her the dignity of her own name. But she refused to accept the degrading insult. Her name was not Omanko-no-Keba, it was… it was… Her vision blurred, and her head suddenly felt like someone was trying to pound their way out of her skull. She quickly changed her train of thought, and the pain started to vanish, though much slower than it had appeared.

The curse was as strong now as when he’d placed it centuries ago. It wasn’t that she’d forgotten her name. It was right there in her head. But any attempt to remember it was like touching an open wound in her mind. The agony would escalate until she either stopped trying to remember, passed out, or died.

There was a time when she would have cursed the man using her for the insulting nickname. For many years she had violently resisted every attempt to degrade and use her, fighting tooth and nail to defend her pride. But that had been a long time ago, and though the disgusting name still conjured up revulsion, she kept quiet, conserving her strength.

He raped her at a slow, steady pace, in no hurry to finish. His hands would fondle her breasts from beneath her clothes, caress her bare legs, gently tug her hair in time with his thrusts. He brought his mouth to her neck to kiss and lick, and made warm sounds of pleasure in her ear. He fucked her like he was making love to her, and it made her want to be sick. His three dogs paced around them, occasionally growling or snapping at her. As the minutes passed, more hunters and their hounds showed up, but they kept their distance; she was his prize, and they weren’t to interfere. Not yet.

Against her every effort, her body reacted to the stimulation, her pussy throbbing harder with every stroke of his cock and brush of his fingers and lips, bringing with it two emotions: shame, and the growing desire to satisfy her itch. Her reaction didn’t go unnoticed. “Look at that happy drooling cunt,” her rapist remarked in a mocking tone. “I don’t know why you still bother running, Omanko. If you just laid down and spread your legs instead, we’d all be happy to take good care of you.” He started playing with her clit, expertly teasing it with his fingers. “Does someone wanna cum? Hmm? Does someone wanna be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

An all too large part of her wanted nothing more. There was no pain when he moved inside her, not anymore. Her cunt had accepted this life of hers a very long time ago, and reacted to everything he did with eager enthusiasm. It sucked hungrily on him in response, clinging to his hard shaft as he dragged it in and out of her. She could cum right now and it would feel amazing. It always did.

But she resisted, gritting her teeth and trying to ignore the pleasant tingle in her crotch. She focused on all of her other sensations in an effort to distract herself. She thought about her wet clothes, and the dirt against her cheek, and the sniffling of the dogs as they paced. Anything but how wonderful the thick head of his dick felt every time it sank back into her.

Once she might have succeeded in not cumming while being raped. Once it wouldn’t have even been a question. She’d been imprisoned for well over a century before she first felt the slightest twinge of pleasure from her constant violation, and when her first forced orgasm occurred, a full three centuries had already passed. But she had been here for much longer than three centuries. Over the years they had gradually fanned that flame of desire inside her, stoking it relentlessly until there was almost nothing else in her heart. To her constant shame and self-loathing, it had been decades since she’d last been raped without cumming.

She held out for a time, until the hunter groaned and began to cum. She moaned and quivered with pleasure when she felt his hot juice, the familiar sensation pushing her over the edge. She’d spent entire years of her life being trained that way, pleasured whenever they finished inside her, until the act itself was enough to fill her head with empty bliss. But even as ecstasy washed over her, she still felt revolted by what he’d done. He couldn’t impregnate her, but that was little comfort. His warm white filth was still repulsive, and her shivers at feeling it seeping through her cunt were as much disgust as pleasure. Even now, after nearly a millennium here, she felt as humiliated from each rape as she had from the very first. More perhaps, now that she found herself practically a willing participant.

“Mmm, as good as always,” he said, pulling out of her a final time and cleaning himself with one of her tails. “Feel like giving up, Omanko-no-Keba? We’re all here. Instead of wasting your time running, you could relax and spend the rest of the day squirming and clenching and cumming like the good girl we all know you are.”

“I ch-ch-choose breath,” she said, stuttering as much from reluctance as the cold.

He laughed. “Are you sure we haven’t turned you into a pain slut by accident, Omanko? No matter, breath it is.” His fingers brushed her neck, and he uttered the command word.

Immediately one of her nine tails whipped tightly around her throat. She could still breathe – for now – but it was no longer an unconscious act, and required constant effort. Without being able to breathe properly, she’d move slower and tire more easily. It was an uncomfortable pressure on her throat that only felt worse with each passing moment, and she had to fight down the urge to scream in frustration.

He lightly slapped her upturned ass. “Alright, the ten minutes have-“.His voice cut off as she immediately scrambled forward, plunging back into the icy water. “Already started,” he finished, amused.

Some of the dogs barked at her and tugged at their leashes, but the hunters held them back. Choosing breath had earned her ten precious minutes of safety. Now it was on her to make the most of them.

The water’s bitter cold was no easier to endure, but she ignored the shore for now and followed the current. The dogs wouldn’t be able to track her over the water, so it provided a rare opportunity to throw them off her scent. With luck, this might be one of her best hunts yet.

She’d never much cared for other people.  Once, in a rare moment of introspection, she’d decided that was why she’d always been so skilled with illusions.  If your intent was to genuinely deceive someone, a certain degree of callousness was required, and she had plenty to spare.

Whatever the reason for her talent, she had made full use of it in her long life.  There were few things she couldn’t obtain through the use of her powers, and when she saw something she wanted she took it.  Money, food, possessions, all of it stolen without hesitation or worry.  People were no exception.  She slept with countless handsome men and beautiful women over the centuries. Often it was as simple as disguising herself in the form of their lovers, but more than one target had been approached by a sibling, or a close friend’s spouse, or someone else in their life that they had longed for but could not be with, and found them suddenly wanting and eager for a secret tryst.

She knew that her deceptions would destroy relationships and ruin lives, but that never bothered her.  It was all just a game to her, like everything else.  She was a ghost, never putting down roots or letting herself grow attached to anyone.  She could have anything she wanted, as long as she didn’t really want anything.  She could be anyone she wanted, as long as she wasn’t really anyone.  It was an easygoing, pleasant, and meaningless existence.

Until him.

Five hours later, the nameless kitsune sat cold and shivering under the bough of a large tree, her tail still coiled around her throat. The magic that held it was far stronger than her physical strength, and she had no chance of pulling it off her. So instead she waited and endured it, one rasping breath at a time. It was a familiar torture, and it would only grow worse.

She was still soaked from the swim, and the evening had brought a sharp chill with it. She’d already discarded her wet and torn up clothes; being naked felt more natural by now anyway, even if that knowledge was humiliating. A roaring fire would have been just the thing to dry off and warm up, but she couldn’t risk giving away her location. Despite being waterlogged, the only thing she wanted more than a fire was a bath. It had been so many centuries since she’d last gotten to bathe in wonderfully hot water, and wash herself in sweet smelling soap… she gave a longing sigh at the mental image.

The blonde had spent her afternoon rolling around in wet mud instead. It had been cold, and it had felt disgusting as it squished against her skin, and it had left her all sticky and slimy and filthy and smelling awful. But the mud was masking her scent. Between that and successfully hiding from the hunters, this was shaping up to be one of her better hunts.

She had no expectation that she might get away. She wasn’t certain that there even was an “away”. She’d been hunted nearly a thousand times during her long imprisonment, and every time the landscape was different from the last. She recognized a nexus when she saw one. Get out far enough from the center and it would just… end, in murky gray fog.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t an exit to find.. There had to be one somewhere in the nexus. It could be just about anywhere and look like just about anything, but it was still there. She felt like a fool examining tree knots and gopher holes, but there wasn’t much else she could do.

But she didn’t run because she thought she might ever escape. Her home, her prison when she wasn’t being hunted, was an endless nightmare of sex and pain and pleasure where she was little more than an empty vessel for the seed of her captor. He would fill her up again and again while she sobbed and struggled and came. It was only out here that she felt alive. She was allowed to be a person again, for just a little while. Until her desire overwhelmed everything else. Until they crushed her back down.

The golden fox tensed at the sound of growling. A hunter was nearby. Her scent was hidden, but that wouldn’t help if they saw her. She weighed her options. Running would be suicide: the hounds would catch her in moments. Fighting back was equally pointless: even if she bested the man, which was far from certain, the noise would certainly draw the others. The best she could do was remain still and silent and hope to go unnoticed.

One of the dogs growled again, even closer. “I know, boy,” said the man. “I can feel it too.” He raised his voice. “You’re out here somewhere, aren’t you, Omanko? There’s nothing to be gained from hiding! Why don’t you come on out so we can have some fun?”

The shivering kitsune tried to scrunch down and make herself smaller. Fearful that he’d overhear her ragged breaths, she forced herself to make small inhalations and exhalations, even though her lungs protested.

For a few minutes, she heard man and beast walking, drawing inexorably closer to her hiding place. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said eventually. “If you come out and crawl to me like an obedient girl, I swear I won’t tell the others about this until morning, let you get some sleep. But if you make me come find you, I’ll make sure you’ve got everyone else on your heels all night long. What’s will it be?”

A few centuries ago, she would’ve trusted in herself and remained hidden. She had paid the price for such arrogance far too many times since then. With a mental sigh, she left her hiding place and allowed herself be seen. “Good girl,” he said warmly when he saw her, and patted his knee. “Now come here so I can feed you a treat.”

The fox’s cheeks heated as she obeyed, crawling to him. He already had his cock out, and she could smell it as she approached. Once she had hated their musk, the scent sharp and nauseating. Part of her still hated it, but an even larger part craved it. Their cocks had been a source of both sustenance and pleasure for so long that the familiar stench made her mouth water and her thighs damp.

The grin on his face told her he was well aware of her reaction. When she reached him she knelt docilely, and he laid his long and stiff cock on her upturned face, sliding the sweaty flesh over her cheeks and scraping off most of the mud in the process. The scent of him filled her nostrils, and even as her stomach turned she couldn’t hold back a small whimper of need. “Don’t be sad, Omanko,” he said, and rubbed the head against her lips, smearing them with precum and mud. “It’s all yours right now. You can suck as much as you want.”

Her lips parted and she took him into her mouth. He tasted even worse than he smelled, and her reaction was stronger too. Her hand moved almost of its own accord, slipping between her legs to enter her wetness. She rocked back and forth on her fingers as she sucked hard and ran her tongue on him. His prick was hot and hard and filthy and disgusting and delicious, so delicious that drool ran out of the corners of her mouth.

The only emotion more powerful than her lust right now was self hatred. These men were monsters. Their master had destroyed her life, stolen away her lover, kidnapped her, raped her… she wasn’t supposed to enjoy this! She… she came. Hard.

She couldn’t even pin the blame on her own fingers, which continued eagerly pumping her sopping cunt as she climaxed. It had been the awful, wonderful taste and smell of him that did it. She sucked him noisily, savoring him and wanting to vomit at the same time.

He didn’t facefuck her, or throatfuck her. He didn’t even touch her or move his hips. He only stood there, grinning, as she bobbed her head up and down on him, worshipping his cock with her mouth. It took a while for him to finish, and to her deep shame, when she felt him flutter against her tongue, her initial reaction was regret that the blowjob was already over. His semen erupted from the tip to coat the insides of her mouth, and she swallowed with an eagerness that made her feel like trash. The bitter, slimy taste that she hated so much made her cum again, even harder than the first time.

She almost kept sucking on him as he went soft. He would become hard again almost immediately if she did, she knew, just like always. These creatures weren’t human, even if they looked like it, and their stamina was endless. She could stay kneeling like this all night long, swallowing load after load of cum if she wanted. It was a thought both horrifying and appealing.

But she stopped herself, lines of cum still connecting the two of.them together as she let his soft prick slip from her lips. More liquid promptly gushed from the tip, but it wasn’t semen this time. “A pretty thing like yourself shouldn’t go hiding herself like this,” he said cheerfully as he pissed on her face to wash away the mud that was left. He directed his remaining stream over the rest of her body, showering her in hot urine that made her camouflage slough off in seconds.

It was disgusting, and humiliating, and the warmth and smell of it made her shiver with pleasure and almost cum a third time. “Sure you wouldn’t rather come back to camp with me?” he asked when he was done, shaking the last few drops out onto her. “There are plenty of bodies to keep you warm through the night, and you can fill your belly with our seed.”

“No,” she said hoarsely, ignoring the heat in her loins and the gnawing hunger in her stomach. “I choose…” She thought quickly. She would need all her stamina, mobility, and senses if she was to have any hope of evading them for long. That left only one sensible option, though it was not a welcome one. “I choose body,” she declared, regretting the words before they were even out of her mouth.

He chuckled. “If you want to get yourself all worked up before you join us, Omanko, I’m not going to complain.” He touched her stomach and gave the command. Immediately one of her tails stretched itself out, becoming thinner and longer. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, though it always made her skin crawl. The now rope-like appendage went between her legs and up her stomach, winding around her in an intricate fashion before tying itself off behind her.

There was no slack left in it, and her tail rubbed against her lower holes. It wasn’t painful. Quite the opposite, actually. Her soft, warm fur felt incredible as every movement, even the labored act of breathing, made it stroke her sensitive skin. Her breasts were similarly being pleasured; the tail encircled their bases and squeezed them lightly in response to her movements. Even the less erogenous parts felt wickedly good as her tail slid across them.

The overall effect was maddening. After only a few seconds, there was already a piece of her begging to just lay back and play with her pussy all night. The only thing better would be one of their long, hard cocks in there, pounding her so wonderfully rough… No. She forced herself to concentrate and ignore the swirling pleasure.

“Normally that would only get you three minutes,” said the hunter, enjoying her obvious plight. “But I’m a man of my word, Omanko-no-Keba. Enjoy your night alone, and have sweet dreams of what we’ll do to you tomorrow.”

She did. And she did.

She’d appeared to him as the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, which is to say that all she had to do was hide her fox ears and tails.  There had been no deep thought behind their meeting; it was just meant to be another fling.  It had amused her to think that even someone of his stature could be hers if she wanted.

She’d never expected that she would become his too.

She hadn’t thought it was even possible for her to fall in love with someone, and she didn’t know what to do herself when it happened.  She’d spent so long caring only about herself, drifting through life with no greater goal than her next meal and bed.  Despite being centuries old, she realized that she’d never really been anything more than a spoiled child, vain, capricious, and cruel.  She had thought that perhaps, with him, she could become something more.  Someone with a life worth living.

But it was not to be.

It took another three days before she was raped again, a feat that once would’ve seemed impossible to accomplish without her foxfire. During the first few months of her imprisonment she’d been able to rely upon her illusions for safety, but eventually her store of power had run out, and her pelt had already been gone when she awoke here. Sometimes she had nightmares that it had been destroyed already, but she didn’t really think that was possible. No, the master of this place wouldn’t be spending so much time and effort to break her if he didn’t seek to twist her power to his own ends.

Once her foxfire was gone, she’d been all but helpless. Before her capture, she’d never spent time outdoors if she could help it. She’d much preferred a soft bed and a warm meal over sleeping on the ground and chasing down prey. She’d been completely unprepared for the endless games of cat and mouse she would be put through. For a long time, they hadn’t even needed the hounds to track her; her clumsy blundering left trails as clear as day. Losing her illusions had crippled her as much as the loss of any limb or sense could.

Experience had changed that. She’d been hunted in a hundred different terrains by now: deserts, forests, arctic landscapes, ancient ruins, tropical jungles. She’d learned, slowly and painfully, how to prolong the chase. How to run, how to hide, how to live off the land. By now, she was much better than the hunters at moving through these woods, even though she was trying to stay unnoticed and they were not. If not for their sheer numbers and endless stamina, she might have evaded them forever.

But as always, eventually her luck ran out and her skill failed her. She found herself surrounded on all sides, with the baying of hounds coming from every direction. The ground was uneven here, full of hills and valleys that blocked sight and made travel strenuous. That natural camouflage was the single reason she hadn’t already been spotted. But she knew that wouldn’t last long. The circle around her was growing steadily tighter as the hunters coordinated their efforts.

Not for the first time, the golden fox considered just lying down and waiting. Her pussy certainly longed for it. Days of stimulation from her tail-rope had left it soaked and throbbing. She’d taken countless breaks to play with herself, but it was like giving a woman dying of thirst a thimble worth of morning dew. Even now, the thought of what was about to happen was making her insides clench in anticipation, eager for something hot and thick to fill her up and rub her in all the right places. But submitting like that would be another step towards becoming the obedient slave her captor wanted, and one she couldn’t take back. She’d lost much of her pride during her imprisonment, but she wasn’t willing to throw away herself yet. Yet.

She opted to run instead. Lust and the constant attrition of breath made her movements far less graceful than normal, but that was only going to get worse over time. She heard the voices of hounds and men both as she sprinted, looking to escape through one of the narrowing gaps in their circle.

Or so she let them believe. As she reached the line of men, she shifted her direction to tackle one of them instead. They both rolled across the ground as she attacked him with hands and teeth and tails. Fighting like this had never been her forte, but she’d caught him by surprise, and when their movement halted, he was bleeding out on the dirt. She’d torn his throat open, nearly decapitating him in the process.

He gurgled with laughter, blood spilling from his lips. “That was fun, Omanko! So nice to be embraced by you.” His injuries were closing before her eyes. Not healing – these creatures weren’t alive enough to do something like that – just closing, the skin sealing itself up. She tried to rise and continue running, but he held onto her, refusing to let go. “This is for your own good, Omanko-no-Keba,” he told her. “A cum hungry slut like you will die of loneliness if she has to go much longer without getting fucked.”

A second hunter grabbed her from behind, hauling her to her feet and giving the first the space to rise. By the time he was on his feet, the smears of blood were all that remained of the damage she’d done. “You’ve been claimed twice already,” murmured the new man into her ear as she struggled against him. “You know what that means.”

She did, and it was half the reason her juices were running down her legs. The first two times, it was only the successful hunter that was allowed to use her. But after that, the assaults grew much better. Worse. She wasn’t sure which word was more accurate.

She couldn’t resist a shiver of joy when she felt the one behind her press himself against her asshole. The first time she’d been anally raped by one of them, it had taken nearly an hour for him to batter down her defenses and force his cock into her tight opening, and another before he’d managed to bottom out in her, her rectum making him fight for each millimeter.

But now it accepted him easily, swallowing up his entire shaft. She was as tight as she’d been back then thanks to her kitsune regeneration. Tighter even, after all the frequent exercise her anal muscles received. But over the centuries her captor and his creations had beaten and fucked every last iota of stiffness and resistance out of it. The nameless kitsune had endured literal millions of hours getting stuffed and stretched and pounded. By now her asshole was an orifice designed to be fucked, just like her pussy, and it eagerly clung to her newest rapist as it welcomed him in, wordlessly begging for his cum.

“This is why we don’t listen to the words that come out of your mouth, Omanko,” he told her as he began thrusting, bringing so much pleasure that her legs shook and threatened to give completely. “Because your other two holes are so much more honest.”

“Oh, she’s got an honest mouth too,” argued the man in front of her. He put his hands on her hips, and together with her anal rapist lifted her up into the air until the tip of his cock was kissing her slit. When they lowered her back down, he sank right into her wet hole, eliciting a spasm of joy. “You just have to fill it with dick, and her tongue can’t stop telling you how much it loves you.”

The two hunters held her up between them, their cocks moving in perfect rhythm. Every time they both pushed into her, it felt amazing, and she knew trying to hold back the pleasure was a losing battle. She bit her lip, trying to distract herself with pain, but it was no good. The golden fox squealed as she came on their cocks. To her horror and delight, her response only encouraged them, and and they began using her even harder, her breasts bouncing as she came a second time almost before the first was over, and then a third time. She could do nothing but moan softly as they brought bliss to her again and again.

“Won’t it be nice when this is your everything?” asked the man making her quiver with every rich, powerful thrust into her ass. “Master will let you play with us whenever you want once you’re his. He always treats his pets well.”

“I’m not… anyone’s pet,” she forced out. “I… only belong to one man, and I… I…” she groaned as the curse hit her, hard enough to banish even the intoxicating pleasure she’d been floating in for the better part of an hour. That was one way to stop herself from cumming, but the pure agony of it hit harder than any ten orgasms, and her arousal returned the moment it ended anyway.

“He died ages ago, Omanko-no-Keba,” said the man whose cock was such a perfect fit in her cunt. “And he died thinking you were a traitor. Aww, don’t cry,” he added as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d already known all of that, but it always bit deep to hear. “That relationship was doomed from the beginning. Master was just doing you a favor.”

“Here, let me do you one too,” said the other, and the kitsune shivered as his mouth found the nape of her neck. His companion turned his attention to her bound breasts, and soon she was dancing in midair, helpless to stop orgasm after orgasm from crashing into her. The tail snug around her neck made her feel dizzy and lightheaded. It was hard to even remember what was going on, to interpret her situation as anything but formless pleasure.

“Will you keep running?” asked the pussy fucker. “You gave us a good chase. There’s no shame in admitting defeat.”

“N-n-n-noooo….” mewled the fox. The only feeling stronger than her lust right now was her misery. She wasn’t even allowed to properly mourn her lover’s death in this vile place. Even as she wept for him and apologized for not doing better, her body was shivering in ecstasy thanks to someone else.

The nameless kitsune had lost track of how many times she’d cum long before her two rapists began to spurt in her at the same time, triggering another mind blowing orgasm. The men slipped out of her, but continued to hold her between them, kissing and stroking her quivering body.

“Just say the word, Omanko-no-Keba,” said one as he nibbled her ear. “He could let you spend years and years like this. We could even keep up the pretense of the hunt, if making us run you to ground is part of the fun for you. It certainly is for us.” She squirmed with both revulsion and excitement as he wormed his tongue into her sensitive ear canal. “All you have to do is submit. You know you’ll be happy when you do.”

She did, and it made her cry harder. “I choose arms” she forced out, before she could think about it too long.

“Silly, stubborn Omanko,” he said as they lowered her to the ground. “All you’re doing is torturing yourself, you know. Whether you break today or tomorrow or in five hundred years will make little difference in the end.” He spoke the command word, and two of her remaining tails encircled her wrists and bound them behind her back, comfortably but securely. “Fifteen minutes.”

The fox struggled to her feet and ran away as fast as her trembling legs could take her, still feeling their cum and her own juices running down them.

None of the court physicians were able to do anything about the disease that suddenly ravaged his body.  They couldn’t even identify the illness, only that it was slowly but surely killing him.  She had searched far and wide for a cure, even attempted to use her foxfire to heal him, but to no effect.  She had nearly resigned himself to losing him when the onmyouji arrived offering salvation.  The salves and potions he made improved her lover’s condition immediately, leaving him looking healthier than he’d been in weeks.  As the physicians had praised his recovery, the sorcerer privately took her aside.  He confided that what he’d done was only a temporary solution, but promised that he could cure him completely, if she was willing to pay his price.  She didn’t hesitate.

She expected him to ask for money, or for power, and was prepared to grant him as much of either as he wanted.  But he didn’t want wealth or nobility or land or treasure.  He wanted her.

The first thing he did was make her suck his cock.  Centuries later, the memory of it would still be fresh in her mind.  She refused at first, not wanting to betray her lover dying in bed just a short distance away.  But he insisted, and her pride and honor had given way to her need.  He sat on the bed in one of the guest quarters, and she knelt in front of him and began licking.  She already had plenty of experience with sex, and had believed she could get this disgusting payment over with easily enough.

He let her go on for a few minutes before ordering her to reveal herself to him.  She feigned ignorance, but he knew exactly what she was, and he wasn’t asking.  Eventually she acquiesced, dropping the illusion that had cloaked her for months now to hide her fox ears and tails.  He wasted no time, grabbing those ears with both hands and beginning to fuck her throat, using the grip to smack her face against his crotch and grind in for every last millimeter.  She’d been with hundreds of different people in her life, but he didn’t treat her like any of them had.  She wasn’t his lover or his partner, just a warm receptacle.  She had never lacked pride, and her first instinct had been to respond to this degradation by chewing his prick off.  But mindful of what would happen if she rejected him, she buried her pride and forced herself to passively allow him to use her throat as a cock sheathe.

It took far too long for him to finish, and when he did, it was without warning, slamming her head against him one final time and promptly firing ropey strands of cum into her belly.  When it was over, and his cock had gone soft again, dribbling the last few drops of sperm onto her tongue, he started slapping her and calling her a lazy good for nothing, a pathetic cocksucker, and other terms equally insulting.  Her cheeks had glowed red from both his hands and her shame by the time she realized she was expected to suck him back to hardness so he could use her again.

She had to swallow two more loads of cum before he was satisfied, and she wasn’t surprised to discover that wasn’t the end of his expectations.  On his orders she’d joined him on the bed, getting on all fours to spread her legs and ask him to mount her.  The sorcerer seized her ears again once he was inside her, and used them while he rode her like he was taming a wild animal, making her entire body buck against him at the same time that he slammed into it. When she warned him not to finish inside her, he laughed and asked her which was more important to her: the life that could potentially grow in her womb, or the life that would surely die without him.  In the end, he made her beg him for his seed, and thank him for it afterward by licking him clean.

Multiple loads of cum were oozing from her sore pussy when he decided it was time to try her ass.  She’d never done that with anyone before, not even her lover, but she understood that she had no choice.. The most she could do was ask him to be gentle.  He wasn’t.

For weeks, she served him every way a woman could serve a man, making constant excuses to the court for her absences.  If her lover had taught her humility, the onmyouji taught her humiliation.  His stamina seemed indefatigable, and his appetites needlessly cruel.  She had to lie to the man she loved so that she could sneak off to someone who would beat her, rape her, make her drink his piss and tongue his ass and lick his feet and so much more, and thank him for all of it.  She was utterly miserable, but every day her lover’s condition seemed to improve, and every time she was given some new sickening command that she would rather die than carry out, she had to weigh it against his life, not hers.

Eventually the onmyouji grew bored of having a secret kitsune fucktoy, and her lover took a sudden turn for the worse.  The sorcerer publicly accused her of having been poisoning him the whole time, and exposed her true form in front of the entire court.  She was caught completely off guard, and had no defense against his lie, no excuses to make as he wove a tale that turned her mysterious absences into sinister plots.  Perhaps if she’d trusted her lover with her secret, he would have believed her innocence.  But she had been too scared to reveal herself to him, terrified that he wouldn’t want her if he knew what she really was.  That fear cost her everything.

She fled the palace with soldiers at her heels.

On her knees in the mud, the nameless kitsune howled as one of the dogs forced his way into her cunt. He matched her howl with one of his own, proud of his conquest.

It had begun to rain a few hours ago, and her head was forced into the mud as his weight pressed down on her, the dog’s slobber hitting her back along with a steady downfall of rain. She started to cum before he’d gone a half dozen strokes.

“Maybe this is more your style, Omanko?” observed one of the hunters. There were more than twenty of them watching. “We won’t be offended if your furry cunt prefers canine over human.”

The beast was too heavy to get out from under, and she could do nothing but whine as a hunter brought another to her front. The beast was no more a real dog than its handler a real human, and needed no encouragement to start using her mouth as a fuckhole. Ten inches of red cock rammed into her throat, making her choke and gag and cum.

Unable to speak, she couldn’t beg the men when she felt the knot press against her pussy lips. In a way she was grateful for the imposed silence: she wasn’t sure if she would’ve begged them to save her from the dog, or to leave her with him forever. Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head as it wedged itself in, pressing right on her g spot. The beast began to cum, and every pulse of its knot sent another orgasm rippling through her helpless body.

The other one’s knot was in her mouth now, and she couldn’t stop herself from sucking on it, running her tongue over the hot flesh as the canine’s sperm flowed down her throat. She found the idea of being force fed dog spunk revolting, and at the same time regretted that she wasn’t getting to taste it first.

The fox stayed locked with the two dogs for about thirty minutes, far too long and far too short a time for her. When the dogs finished and their shrinking cocks came out of her, she flopped onto the ground, too numb with pleasure to move. Even when she saw hunters leading two more canines over, she could only manage a quiet whimper. She began shuddering into her next orgasm the moment she felt one of their cocks kiss her anal ring.

There were more than thirty dogs with the hunters, and some of them used her more than once. An entire day of shameful, wonderful joy. Sometimes the dogs pissed on her. Sometimes she tasted fluids from her own cunt and ass still sticky on a hard shaft. Sometimes they left claw marks all over her back or fucked her hard enough to make her bleed. And all of it made her cum. Every beautiful, terrible thing they did set off the slutty body they’d trained.

The fox felt like there was nothing left of her by the time they were all done. The rain had stopped long ago, and she laid there, senseless and dirt stained. She closed her eyes. “Breath,” she whispered. “Breath, breath, breath, breath…”

“Poor Omanko,” said the hunter above her. He knelt and stroked her hair. “Still struggling so hard. Are we supposed to be impressed? Do you think your resistance matters to anyone? When are you going to realize that we’re not breaking you down, silly girl We’re just stripping away the lies.” She screamed as he jabbed her eye with his thumb. “The truth is that you were a worthless whore long before Master ever laid eyes on you. You should feel honored that he’s found a use for your pathetic hide. You are nothing, do you understand?” His thumb ground harder. “Just a whimpering, squealing, nine tailed fucktoy.”

Just when she began to fear he might destroy her eye completely, he let up and spoke the command word. Another tail wrapped around her neck, and breathing went from just requiring active effort to needing significant effort. The only way to get a satisfying amount of air through her lungs now was to heave her chest in and out, drawing in great gasps of air that were reduced to a thin trickle of oxygen.

“Get going, Omanko-no-Keba,” he said with a grin. “Run to your heart’s content. We’ll be seeing you again soon. Ten minutes.” She sobbed as she fought to get to her feet, already dizzy from lack of air. She knew he was right: the hunt was almost over, and it was only her last clinging vestiges of pride and dignity that kept her moving.

The chase lasted for days, and ended with her death,  struck down by an army led by the two greatest warriors in Japan.  Or so she let them believe.  Grief had not stunted her powers.

They were not the only ones after her though, just hounds showing the true hunter the way.  She felt a certain satisfaction when she saw that the onmyouji himself was hunting her.  She’d let him abuse her so many times, and was eager to make him pay for each and every one.  But she discovered too late that she was the rabbit, not the fox.  His magic pierced through even her best illusions, and he turned her own tails against her, binding her hand and foot before strangling her with them.  As the darkness closed in, she was certain that she would never wake up.  Centuries later, she still wasn’t sure that she’d been wrong.

When her eyes next opened, she was already in the nexus.  It appeared as the same field she had feigned her death in.  But instead of the army of thousands she’d tricked, it was only the two of them that stood there now.  He grinned as he confirmed what she’d already begun to suspect: what had befallen her lover was indeed poison, just as he’d claimed, but it was the sorcerer’s own hand behind it all.  She had known anger many times, but that was the first time she’d ever genuinely wanted to kill someone.  She demanded answers, the antidote, and justice.  She received none of them.

Instead, he produced a sheaf of papers and scattered them to the winds.  Wherever they landed, a man or a hound grew from that spot.  Every man there bore his face, and even the dogs’ grins looked familiar.  There were hundreds of them.

The first hunt began.

“Now I know Omanko is enjoying herself,” said one of the hunters. “Our furry girl just loves being airtight.”

The nameless kitsune moaned around his cock, wishing it wasn’t true. But to have three different pricks inside her, each one eagerly exploring her insides as their owners licked and nibbled and groped her… she shivered as the very thought sent yet another orgasm rippling through her.

One man straddled her chest as he sat on her stomach. His dick throbbed between her bound breasts, his shaft hot and hard and wonderful against her skin. One hand had both her nipples trapped between his fingers, sweeping forward and back to stroke himself with her titflesh. His other hand was tangled in her hair, forcing her head forward to keep her mouth on his cockhead. In the back of her mind she prayed that he wouldn’t let go, because she knew that even if he allowed her to pull her head back, she lacked the willpower for it. His cock was filthy and tasted awful and she wanted to keep sucking on it forever. She lapped at it greedily, luxuriating in the taste and feel and smell of him even as other parts of her recoiled. The tails around her neck were too tight to service him and breathe at the same time, so she was soon lightheaded, unwilling to spare a second more than necessary drawing breath, not when it meant denying herself his rich flavor.

The second man was beneath her, cock deep in her guts. Her asshole clung to him every time he pulled back, not wanting to let him go. His prick gave her a warm, thick feeling of fullness that went beyond just sexual pleasure, though she came every time he bottomed out. It felt good and comfortable and right to have him in her bowels, the fat head of his cock stretching her out so deliciously. She never wanted his cock to leave her, even knowing that it was going to drive right back into her and make her cum, and so she clenched every time he tried to draw back, trying to keep him trapped inside her. As though he could read her mind, he would pull out slowly, teasingly, drawing the movement out, lingering with only his head still inside her, before ramming himself back in to make her simultaneously want to squeal with joy and vomit.

The third hunter crouched between her spread legs, pounding her pussy like he wanted to smash right through her cervix. She wanted him to, needed him to, wrapped her legs around him to encourage him to go harder and faster. The only thing better than feeling his fat cock fill her womanhood would be to have it in her womb. The most sacred, most intimate, most private part of her body ached to be stuffed full of his hot thrusting meat. The thought of her womb being painted with his seed made her stomach churn in disgust and her body tremble with need.

Any of the three men alone would have given her more physical pleasure than she’d ever known in her life before captivity. To have all three of them at once was overwhelming, and she could feel her mind crumbling, losing herself in the raging ocean of bliss and humiliation. She flopped between them, buffeted by one orgasm after another until the fox was reduced to a limp, sweaty, moaning mess. It was disgusting, painful, degrading, and glorious.

It took the men nearly an hour to finish, and when they did it was at the same time, their simultaneous blasts of cum sending her spiraling into sheer ecstasy. She was too exhausted to move when they pulled out of her, but she managed a wordless whimper, already missing them inside of her.

“Aww, don’t pout, Omanko-no-Keba,” one of them told her. “You know we’re happy to keep playing with those warm furry fuckholes of yours, especially when they treat us so nicely. All you have to do is give us permission.”

Every part of her body pleaded with her to say yes. Only one part still resisted: her soul. “S-s-s-senses” she forced out, crying at denying herself.

He grinned down at her. “Kinky little slut,” he teased. “You just want us to keep tying you up, don’t you? Don’t worry, you’ll only have to be lonely for another ten minutes.” He spoke the command word, and a tail wrapped around her eyes, a second hugging tight to both her ears. She was left in total darkness and silence.

The loss of her hearing and vision made her mind focus more on her other senses. Most of her cuts and scrapes had already healed, but those that remained sang a bright song of pain in her head. They were drowned out, however, by the symphony of pleasure brought about by her bondage. In the time it took her to rise to her feet, she came three times, and every stumbling step worked another out of her.

The hunt was over. They all knew it. She could barely stagger by now, and she would be lucky to even make it out of sight before her time ran out. It was only that surviving core of stubbornness inside that made her keep going, putting one foot ahead of the other.

She had gone by many names in her long existence, picking them up and discarding them as carelessly as everything else, changing them as easily as one changed clothes.  But the name her lover had given her, that one she’d decided to keep forever.  It had been a symbol of her determination, her love, and her desire to be a better person.

Of all the horrors she experienced at the hands of onmyouji and his shikigami servants, she considered that theft of her name the cruelest.  It was, after all, the only thing she’d had left of the man she’d loved.

Blind and deaf, the nameless kitsune couldn’t even begin to keep track of who was using her. She was passed between man and dog alike as her body was thoroughly violated. It wasn’t just her holes that they used: they jerked off with her soft tails and handfuls of her hair, rubbed themselves against her palms and the soles of her feet, pleasured themselves between her breasts, and even teased their heads against her earlobes and nostrils and nipples until they spurted more white cream. No part of her body escaped defilement. Her entire being, every limb and muscle and patch of skin, was put to a sexual purpose. Turned into something that belonged to them instead of her, that existed only for the sake of their cocks.

Her remaining senses continued to be heightened by her lack of sight and sound. The stench of sex was so palpable that it made her head swim and her mouth salivate. It went straight to her brain, reviving centuries worth of memories and making her feel like she was reliving all of them again. The recollection was powerful enough that it was difficult to even tell the difference between memory and reality. Unable to breathe more often than not, her consciousness had become so fractured that she barely noticed when she passed out, transitioning back and forth between the two states countless times. Whether awake or asleep, she would twitch and cum and whimper.

Almost every cock that passed between her lips was already sticky with cum and filthy from one or both of her other holes. She licked and slurped on them desperately, craving every foul, bitter, gut wrenching taste. On the rare occasions her mouth wasn’t in use, she licked the ground itself, blindly hunting for the fallen drops of seed that she was so hungry for. Sometimes one of her lovers would piss in or on her, and she would welcome the warm liquid, guzzling it down and lapping it off her skin.

Her skin tingled as though charged with lightning, and the slightest contact was enough to make her moan. The tugging of her hair and tails as they were used as masturbatory aids, the feel of their cum slick shafts against her clenched hands and feet, every touch carried bliss with it. The rush of sensations flowed through her like an endless tidal wave, washing away everything else. None of the participants there enjoyed themselves as much as she did. Omanko-no-Keba happily clenched and sucked and stroked them off, cooing with delight at each new load that painted her insides or splattered her outsides. Only in the furthest recesses of her mind did her old self remain, clinging tightly to sanity.

By the time they were finished, Omanko was soaked inside and out with semen. She felt as though she’d taken a bath in the stuff, and the mental image was enough to wring a final orgasm out of her. She didn’t hear the command word spoken, but she felt her last two free tails obey, looping around her knees and thighs and ankles to bind her legs.

The hunt was over. Omanko could see herself in her mind’s eye: bound hand and foot, collared, gasping, made blind and deaf and shaking with raw need, and all with her own tails.

A wrapped present for her owner.

With the cessation of her rape, some of the nameless fox’s sanity returned to her. But she knew what would happen next, and she shivered with anticipation. She didn’t have long to wait. She smelled her master before she felt him, a sweet sickly stench that was nothing human. The onmyouji had discarded his false shell here, and appeared before her in his true form.

One of the demon’s limbs wrapped around her stomach and yanked her off the ground and towards him. More of them caught her in midair and began to caress her, long and soft and slimy. Their touch was repulsive, and made her skin flush with pleasure. The fox dangled in the air, trying to squirm away from the mass of tentacles around her. They took hold of her limbs instead, grasping ankles and wrists to turn her upside down, blood rushing to her head.

She mentally prepared herself for penetration, but the demon wanted to play with her first. The tips of two tentacles tickled the soles of her feet, making her break out in gales of helpless laughter. She shook, laughing too hard to breathe, orgasming from the movement. It kept going for what felt like an eternity, cruelly denying her peace and breath while bringing boundless pleasure at the same time.

Her entire body ached from all the laughter, her head spinning and aching while her lungs burned. The agony of it existed alongside the pleasure, sometimes even threatening to overwhelm it in intensity. The nameless fox could only endure, and silently pray that this state continued.

But it couldn’t go on forever. She couldn’t see or hear the tentacles, but she could smell them, and that gave her just a moment’s warning before the first one lodged itself in her throat. It fucked her mouth in long, rapid strokes, slamming into her hard enough to make her gag each time. Its greasy slime on her tongue, the nauseating taste in her mouth, the feel of it savagely driving up and down as though her throat was merely a tool for its own gratification… all of it made her cum.

More fat, wonderful tentacles stuffed themselves in her pussy and ass, eager to fuck her. They slid in beside one another, compressing to squeeze themselves in. Before the first minute of her rape was over, she had thirty one different tentacles inside of her, each independently and furiously violating her, each bringing such horrible joy. More continued to swarm in, heedless of the damage that they were doing. Her jaw was dislocated, her pelvis cracked, her anal ring torn up, all in the name of getting as many of themselves in as possible. Her natural resilience and healing factor as a kitsune was the only reason she wasn’t literally fucked to death.

By the time they stabilized, nearly one hundred of the onmyouji’s tentacles were pleasuring themselves with her insides. The rest of the demon wasn’t idle either: his hands and tongue explored her contours, stimulating every part they could find. He knew all of her weak points better than she did by now, but he didn’t neglect the rest of her. Not a bare inch of skin escaped his roaming touch.

Tentacles began to cum, spraying thick, sticky goo inside of her. Their numbers showed no sign of diminishing, however, each one promptly replaced by another. It was bliss and hell at the same time, her body writhing in one long, powerful orgasm while she screamed out an unending cry of despair.

The sensations threatened to overwhelm her completely. If she let them, they would scour her very soul, destroying everything inside of her and leaving behind a happy, mindless husk. Every single second was a hard won struggle to preserve her sanity. One slip, and she would be gone forever.

It was a horrific state, and a familiar one. She had returned home.

Time ticked by slowly. Sixty seconds to every minute. Sixty minutes to every hour. Twenty four hours to every day. Seven days to every week. The demon never let up, still violently fucking her a hundred different ways. The nameless fox lived on the seed he fed directly into her belly. Her bladder and bowels emptied themselves involuntarily every so often. Sometimes her body slept and sometimes it was awake, but her mind remained ever active, fighting for its very existence.

A month into the rape, she could feel her will starting to slip. After two, her memory began to fail her. By the six month mark, she couldn’t remember where she was, or what was happening, or even why she was fighting back. She only knew that she had to.

She had no track of time, but she already knew how long the assault would last. The same as always: seven by seven by seven days. Her owner was nothing if not consistent.

On the seventh minute of the seventh hour of the three hundred and forty third day, the demon spoke. “Are you ready to stop being stubborn, child?” he asked her, his voice sibilant and smooth. She didn’t hear him with her ears; his words appeared directly in her mind, violating her mental space just as easily as he had her physical. “What I wish from you is not so great. You will experience endless pleasure, and want for nothing, and all I ask in return is your service. Is that not a fair price for the wonders I offer?” His tentacles slid from her mouth to allow her to answer, and the twin tails coiled around her throat loosened.

Her shattered jaw worked uselessly for a minute as it healed, unable to give him the answer in her heart: yes. A million times yes. Omanko-no-Keba had never wanted anything as much as this. Her lungs rattled in her chest as she took in her first full, uninterrupted breath in nearly a year.

And she let it out in a scream.

“Tamamo-no-Mae!” The curse struck her as hard as it ever had, making her convulse and flop in agony greater than any pleasure the onmyouji had ever given her. The force if it was too much for her body, and it began to give way, bones snapping and muscles tearing under the violent assault. She ignored all of it, and screamed out again the name Toba had given her. “Tamamo-no-Mae! My name is Tamamo-no-Mae!!!”

Red stained Tamamo’s vision as blood vessels in her eyes burst. She tried to take another breath and found only the sharp pain of a shattered rib cage. “And I…” she wheezed, with the last of her strength, “am going… to kill you…”

The onmyouji sighed. “As you always say.” Tamamo felt her consciousness slipping away completely and welcomed it, letting herself fall into soft and inviting darkness, where there would be neither pain nor pleasure. “Until next time then, my pet.” Her captor’s voice came from a million miles away, even as his tentacles embraced her broken frame.

For just a moment, there was peace.

And then she was back on her feet. Her body was whole, restored from the destruction that came of defying his curse. Her tails were hers again, bobbing freely behind her, and she was clean and clothed. She felt almost normal, almost like herself, though hunger still burned within her loins, less intense than before but never gone.

The environment this time was one of red stone, full of jagged peaks that rose high into the sky. Behind her milled the hunters and their dogs, getting ready to give chase again.

Another hunt. This one would have the same conclusion, as would the next, and the next, and the next… until she broke. The nameless kitsune knew it would happen eventually. Every refusal was harder than the last, and the day would soon come when she gave up, and only Omanko-no-Keba remained of her.

But it wasn’t today.

She ran.