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He - Brian, Pinkmoon, the individual separate from the sex - came back to himself. His mind flopped, exhausted from the pleasure, and he regained the presence of mind to attend to his surroundings. It felt strange not to have a thundering heart in his chest or to be able to feel a sheen of sweat in the small of his back, slowly drying in the warmth of the bedroom. His eyes were still buried in the pillow but he could hear.

"Oh my god, I had no idea you could do that!"

What?

He was picked up quite quickly which he found dizzying but other than that, not unpleasant. A side-effect of being so light, he guessed. Fox realigned him with her face and he saw that she looked surprised.

"Look at this, Brian." She held a hand up for him and he saw semen.

Where's that from? I- no, really_?!_

She rubbed at it between her fingertips and her hair fell a little over her eyes. Her plump lips turned into a smile. "You really are a dirty little doggy, aren't you?" She'd already sat up but then she opened her knees and stood him between them so that she could look at him afresh. "You know what you need? A bath."

The stars started to clear from Pinkmoon's brain. Uh... are you sure I'm water-resistant? I mean, I think I'm built quite stiff but...

"Come on," she whispered into his fuzzy ear as she got out of bed. "Let's clean you up."

If Pinkmoon could have facepalmed he would've done. Can't I just lay here and be post-orgasmic for a while?

xXx

If he kept his attention on it, he could see the edge of the bath out of the upper corners of his eyes. Chyenne, naked from the bed and with her butt floating out of his field of vision, had squirted a whole lot of bubblebath in there and the mound of white froth was growing as the tap churned the water. Although with all the steam, Pinkmoon's oblique view didn't tell him for sure how much bubble there really was.

How had a sexual experiment turned into a potentially body-melting bath? He watched her bare feet and legs walk past and step into the bath with a soft swishing sound. However it'd happened, here he was, covered in his own semen (How? his brain asked with a furrowed brow all of its own. Just... like, how_?_)

Brian had always had a strong common sense. Chyenne often said it was one of his Super Powers and they sometimes shared a joke about it. Well, his common sense was tingling over this - they'd already had baths. She was already clean so why get in? Actually, that probably means that when I was turned into a plush I must have been clean. No stains, no discoloured fur...

Then he realised he was being proud of his plushy state and, in a sudden flurry of self-righteousness, started to sulk. Which turned out not to be as easy as it first seemed because sulking meant doing what he was unable not to do in plush state anyway. Do nothing, say nothing. Humph!

If he was honest with himself he could see this had nothing to do with cleanliness and more to do with his girlfriend's fetish. But she could at least've turned him into a rubber duck first.

Now you're just being silly.

Shut up.

Chyenne put her hand around his leg and picked him up. His non-stomach lurched a bit and then he found himself standing - supported - on a bubble cloud. His girlfriend, hazy even at this short distance with steam, looked as content and smiley as a new mother as she lowered him through the frothy mass and into the hot water.

He felt his paws slip through the surface and hoped he really was water-resistant enough.

She dunked him and then brought him out of the water entirely. If he could've panted with shock he would have done. Don't do that! Chyenne, honey, please don't do that...

Of course, she had no idea what he was thinking. Apparently totally unaware of his fear she turned her very freaked-out immobilised toy boyfriend upside down and cradled him like an infant. "I wonder if the Buddhists are right?" she said quietly, an intimate whisper just for him. "What if we do get reincarnated? Because you'd make such a handsome dog."

Pinkmoon felt too apprehensive to have answered even if he'd had the jaw and tongue to do it. Fox broke eye contact to reach for a handful of water which she dripped onto his belly. Although he couldn't see what she did next, he felt her fingertips pull gently at his belly fur. He hoped she was able to do a good job cleaning him up - he knew what cum did when it hit water.

"There you go..." she said slowly, still working but evidently pleased with her progress. Pinkmoon could have sighed with relief. "Aaand there! As good as new!"

She hunkered down into the water and set him to rest on her belly. The hot water lapped for a moment against his fuzzy toes but then settled, but he didn't feel any more at ease about it. And then a pause... Fox regarded him and he watched her straight back. "Since I let you cum first, you don't mind if I... entertain myself while you recover, do you?"

Pinkmoon realised again how immobilised he was when his eyebrows didn't rise and his mouth didn't move. And being literally speechless made him feel like a tongue-tied adolescent all over again. Go right ahead, he wanted to say, but he couldn't even nod his assent.

He couldn't help noticing also that he seemed to have recovered from his orgasm already. It'd only been about fifteen minutes! And yet the sensations in his groin felt well-and-truly calmed down and actually, he felt like he wanted more.

Water swished outside of his field of vision as Chyenne's hands reached to her cleft. Again, no shudder raced through his spine and the lack of movement was a frustration all its own. He'd had dreams like this, about being immobilised. It turned out his brain's preconceptions about that were bang on the money.

"Mmm," she purred almost instantly and gave him the look that'd earned her the racy nickname Fox in the first place. "I guess you must've got me horny when you were laying under me earlier. It already feels real good."

She switched to just one hand so that she could touch his shoulder and gaze deep into his eyes. He watched her expressions change with a growing sense of pique: the expressionlessness of somebody busy inside their minds; a naughty bit lip; plaintiveness; closed-eyed bliss; calm but businesslike attention; a playful smile.

Any one of those would have elicited a range of reactions from Brian. But in this guise, what could he do? Watch. Feel unable to dig his claws into the softness of her belly. Try to ignore the mounting pressure between his legs.

Because yep: everything down there truly had recovered.

"You know, I'm looking forward to turning you back into a human."

So do it.

"I think you'll want to show me what you've been wanting to do to me."

After I've given you the silent treatment, Pinkmoon thought sniffily, and tried not to follow it up with, Even though I'd only be able to ignore you for about a nanosecond.

Her hand swished on and he wished desperately that he could turn around and watch. He liked so much to watch her face when she masturbated but now that her face was all he could see he realised how much he liked to watch the action of her hand.

Her belly rippled under his feet. And everything else that happens to her when she's doing it, he thought. When Fox wanted to mate, everything about her turned to molten sex.

"Whenever I do this and you watch-"

Hey! You do it when I'm not watching? Pinkmoon filed that little fact away for later.

"-your eyes go everywhere," she continued, her forearm moving at the edge of his vision. "You watch my face and the way my breasts move, and you watch between my legs and you look so fascinated."

And there was Pinkmoon thinking he was able to stay so cool.

"But then you take over. Did you know I've never brought myself to orgasm in front of you because of that?"

Oh. Right. Is that a bad thing?

"You know a little fantasy I've always had? It's to masturbate with you watching and for you not. To do. A. Thing." She tapped his nose with each sentence. Plushes couldn't blush either, it turned out.

Chyenne sat up - wet bubbles coursed down between her tits - and placed Pinkmoon at the end of the bath, tangled in with the taps so that he wouldn't fall in but at a kind of crazy facing-down angle. Then she lay back again.

"So you're not going to interrupt, now are you?" she asked with a devious grin and... and...

Oh. Pinkmoon's stomach went woozy. He was going to get a fantastic view, he realised. Not only did she lay down but she scooted forward a little and braced her feet against the sides of the bath. The oval shape of her pussy faced him and, being angled down a little, he had a front-row seat.

He was going to have to have a word with the taps some day soon. The stories they must've had to tell...

She liked to hold her lips open while rubbing her clit. He'd already known that she did it; he'd always imagined in the part of his mind reserved for porn actresses that she liked to do it. But was this her real preference? And the stroking came so gently, nothing like the way his own fist pumped when he was alone and Foxless. Her lithe belly moved like the rolling waves of the ocean, going nowhere but moving anyway. Her thighs were relaxed enough for now, tensing only occasionally.

The edge of one of the taps was braced against his groin. If only he could grind a bit he could use it to dispel a little of his rising need. As it was he felt dissatisfied and horny.

She slipped a finger in and back out again, and his throat nearly jumped out through his stitched mouth. Oh baby, does that feel good? Do it again, put another finger in...

The trouble was, once she'd done it the first time he couldn't stop thinking about when the second would come. But although she kept her cleft held waayyy open, she didn't seem in any hurry at all to fill the hole again.

No no no - there it went, the tip of her finger going inside, disappearing into the familiar warmth and coming out wet. His mind raced to what his resources were. Somehow he had to get a hard on and he had to get down there and stick it into her. But there wasn't anything, was there? He couldn't move, not an inch. He couldn't actively appeal to her. He couldn't look away.

I'm going to explode. I swear it, I'm going to explode. Oh man, help me. He couldn't tell whether the tap edge was any help at all - or whether its presence there was just frustrating him all the more.

If only there was some way to bring himself off.

Could he do it through mind alone?

He thought back to the last time they'd been together. On the settee, two evenings ago. Somehow a documentary just hadn't been the order of the day and they'd found themselves kissing, then caressing, then playfully plucking at each others' clothes. Feeling for breasts and cocks and butts, inviting with the eyes and pulling off each others' tops.

He'd taken her over the side of the sofa, kneeling on the floor and slipping his dick into her already-wet pussy. And now he revelled again in the remembered feeling, taking what was offered, taking it right up to the hilt, admiring the glow of her skin in TV-light. He remembered the bliss of how deep she was, of her warmth and tightness and the way she pushed back on him for more.

Her open pussy below him, mocking in its siren-call to the paralysed.

He revisited the potency of his need and his control over it, and her pure and feminine availability. He'd felt like a primal beast, like a king. The end of his cock had spread her lips and barrelled its way inside to harden and tense and leak pre-cum and flutter at the very edge of release. It'd been a resource to him at the time, a game and a satisfaction that however much his body desired sex, he could deny it or sate it in his own time, his own way.

He'd fucked her and it'd felt great. Her pussy had been soaking wet - just like it was now - and he'd buried himself to the groin in it, his cheeks heating and his belly tensing, his ass pounding and his breath fast and cool in his sinuses. Instinct had taken over his control.

She'd-

Chyenne picked him up just as the tension in his groin exploded. He kept his standing, open-eyed and wide-eared pose but felt his mental model of himself convulse and clench and shudder and cum in searing hot streaks, firing out the tension between his legs and taking all his strength with it. Where it jetted he didn't know but he imagined it covering her, boiling against her abdomen and making her hard nipples slippery.

His phantom heart began to pound a little slower. He wanted to take hold of her wrist and cradle her forearm as his orgasm faded. He wanted to be the same size as her and to have his familiar, mostly-furless skin and to be heavy and mobile and...

She shuddered and he realised she'd brought him up to her face. He watched, despite his bleariness, as she opened her eyes and mouth as if in shock, shook and shut her eyes, and lay still.

The water swished.

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck..." she whispered to herself as she came. She didn't open her eyes at first, but she smiled, stray hairs stuck to her forehead and tangling with her lashes. "You came again," she said, her voice creamy. And then she cuddled him. Just... held him close. Just for a few moments.

If Pinkmoon could have smiled he would have. Okay okay, if you like making me cum so much then you can make me a toy again.

They left the bath and Pinkmoon breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the wet environment.

xXx

"You know, I'm glad we're doing this tonight," she said, briefly blasting her hair with a hairdryer. She sat on one side of her rump on the floor so that the short cord of the dryer didn't get stretched too far. Pinkmoon stood watching, and enjoyed the view of her legs retreating into darkness in her makeshift towel dress. "It's just that it's so awesome having you like this."

Pinkmoon didn't bother to think up a retort. But he wished he could roll his eyes.

She seemed to have a thought, then patted him over (for check for dampness, he guessed) and then turned the hairdryer on him. "I mean, don't worry, I wouldn't keep you like that forever. But I just wanted you to know that it really gets me off," she continued, raising her voice slightly so that he could still hear her. "Especially with how often you cum! I'm glad you get off on it too."

It'd only been another quarter of an hour and Pinkmoon's groin already felt totally re-charged. Was this going the way he thought it was? God, he missed having a dick.

"It's a shame you don't do anything when you're about to do it. Because you know what I'd do then?" She switched off the dryer and gave him a catlike look. Then she leaned down on her forearms so that she could whisper in his ear.

What she whispered gave him the need all over again.

"You wanna try?" she asked with a grin and ruffled the top of his head. Without waiting for an answer she winked at him and got up to put the dryer away.

She was going to have to do some pretty good guesswork. But could she do what she'd just suggested? He didn't know how this transformation magic worked, but if she said it was possible then it had to be.

"Oh yeah, and that reminds me," she added. She came back over and turned him upside-down cradled in her arms. "Now, what have you actually got down here?"

She splayed the fur apart between his legs, searching thoroughly, searching, searching... Poking and gently squeezing for anything other than plushness. For an examination it felt damn good and Pinkmoon found that something aroused him about having his legs forcibly kept open by his condition. "Uh... seriously, where does it come from? You haven't got anything down here."

Thanks for the reminder, babes. Remind me about that next time you ask me how you look in a dress.

"Okay, let's see how soon it starts to grow." She seemed to go into a kind of hypnotic state and for a moment he wondered whether he'd feel anything.

And then... his 'skin' started to itch.

"Aaah..." he said with numb shock as he felt a weird, cold feeling inside his chest. Then he worked out what it was. Air! I can breathe! He drew in more and then exhaled it forcefully, snorting with the sheer exhilaration of how good it felt. He knew it'd felt odd not having to breathe. Kind of... quiet. But to have the power and the need back again felt marvellous, like he was inflating himself and could float away.

He tried to put his paw up to his face. Although his movements were slow and it took him a big effort, it worked!

"Angh... Ntum," he rolled his fuzzy tongue around the inside of his mouth. It felt strange, it felt dry. He could feel that his tongue was still made of fluff and that the roof of his mouth was also still plush. They brushed drily against each other. Flexible, controllable, but definitely still not made of flesh.

He looked up at his saviour.

She looked back down at him, her eyes full of wonder at the miracle she'd performed.

He tried to bend his legs - now that he was partially real he wanted to stop looking like a dead cartoon character with the soles of his feet stuck straight up in the air. They bent, slowly and with a strange kind of numb tingle. He bared his teeth a little with the effort, but very soon he had four velvety, dangly paws that Chyenne touched and said-

"-are absolutely adorable!"

"What've..." his mouth moved more slowly than his brain. He tried again: "What've you done this time, woman?" He found he had to talk slowly so that he could move his tongue into the right position. The sound came out a little dry and soft. He hoped he'd soon get more force in his voice - at this moment he sounded almost like a character from some kind of Disney animation. Too cute, too surreal.

She fluttered her eyelashes in her trademark flirty way. "Is it better or worse?"

"Better. I think."

"Do you want to see if you can walk?"

"I definitely can't yet." He bent and straightened one of his hind legs. "This takes a lot of work. See?" Flex, straighten. A gritting of his little felt teeth. Not that he didn't want to walk - he wanted to very much - but it just wasn't a realistic option yet.

He could see, as he looked back up into Fox's eyes, that she had a burning question. And he thought he knew what it was. He strained to look down between his legs.

There, he saw a lump. A stitched-on, basic sheath that he was certain hadn't been there before.

She spotted it at the same time, smiled and settled herself on the floor, Pinkmoon still in her arms. "Let's see what this does," she said, her tone somewhere between maternal and seductive.

He found himself saying nothing at first, but then he realised that as she gave him pleasure with her fingers, he felt the desire to move. But the movement felt like a kind of pins-and-needles. Not an unpleasant feeling, but one that felt very intense. And it seemed to be getting stronger and she stroked more and whatever currently passed for his heart beat faster. "Ah, babe?"

"Mmm?" she asked, strumming his sheath like a lute and prompting him to flick his ears back.

"Can you make me any more real? I'm still too... erm, fuzzy."

"Oh, that reminds me. How did those orgasms feel?"

He noticed the change in subject but decided to let it lie. Especially while she was doing that to his cock. "Honestly? They felt... Fox babe, they were amazing. But I'd really like to be able to move this time. You don't know how much I wanted to do you."

She caught his eye and smiled at the idea, then pouted slightly, the way she did when she wanted him to look at her lips, the way she did when she wanted him to think about what she could do with those lips. He settled with only a little reluctance into the position of good-boyfriend-who-did-as-his-lady-wanted. "Can I just make you cum once like you are now?" Her fingertips played at it. His brain did that thing where it half went woozy with excitement, half stood to attention and watched for the first active thing it could do to- "I'm curious."

What was that he could feel? Erection? He strained his neck to look again.

"Oh my god." Sticking out of the end of his basic-looking sheath was the tip of a dark pink cock. He tried engaging the muscles that usually made him able to bounce it. It didn't quite work but he could feel something trying to move.

"You've got a real dick!" he said with genuine wonder. She pressed the end of the sheath and pulled it back slightly.

It grew and slid further out. He could've melted with pride.

"Mm. Babe," he muttered. I'm a real man again!