Foxtrapped
Clack.
For a witless half-second, standing there in the woods, that noise rung out in my ear. Then it was fire and agony that rang out through my left leg, as the metal jaws snapped mercilessly closed, compressing just beneath my calf, tearing into flesh with sharpened teeth, breaking holes in the legs of my jeans.
A beartrap. I'd stepped into a hunter's beartrap.
Shock set in, as I felt cold metal pinching down hard on my leg, blood pooling and staining the torn denim fabric around the wound. I fell to my right knee, tried to pry the thing apart--when suddenly, from the overgrowth, there came a rustle, and a figure stepped into view.
She had been human--once. I could see her curves, the modest width of her hips, and beautiful brown eyes that shone through a ruff of short mottled hair that hung over her face. But her face itself was an alien thing--a snout with a doggy nose, large and black--darker markings on white fur covered the lower half of her face--and from her broad, triangular ears, that stood high upon her head, down to the tip of her nose, her skin was covered in sherbet orange.
She had breasts--eight of them, ranging from a woman's at the top, down in size to doggy nipples the lower they were on her white-furred belly. They hung unheld by any kind of bra or shirt--exposed and offered shamelessly for me to gape at as she strode closer.
A tail hung from her rump, stretching almost to her shoulder when she held it high. It bore broad, bushy hairs, orange, with a black-ringed, white tip. As she closed in on me, she dropped it between her legs, stopped to a crouch, and began to lick at my face, almost apologetically.
Her hot breath dried the tears that were falling down my face, even as her tongue began to add its own moisture in relentless strokes. I turned my head away from her tickling whiskers as she stretched both arms over my shoulders in embrace, and brought her head near to mine. The pain seemed to relent as she squeezed me, and drew her nipples tight to my shirt.
Gently, she released me, stooping down with her tail raised, and pulled the trap open with her clawed, pad-tipped fingers. Dizzy from the shock, I drew my leg out as she let go, and let the jaws snap together empty. I sat, the pain a dirty, cold, stinging feeling as the cool air of January blew over my wounded leg.
She took a piss, squatting, and bending her still-human legs, as I held my injury outstretched, and took of my shirt to try and staunch the bleeding. As I wrapped the white fabric tenderly around the puncture site, I could hear the running of a pressured stream of fluid on crisp, dead leaves, and smell a thick, raunchy odor filling the air, amidst the scent of my own blood. When the sound stopped, I took a look at what she was doing.
She had crawled over to me on hands and knees, her orifice still dripping urine, the black claws from her mutated toes dragging against the fallen leaves. She lowered her head and took a whiff of my bloody leg. Then promptly, she took her hands to the shirt and began unwrapping.
"No, stop, please." I moaned vainly, as she undid the makeshift bandage with her little padded hands. She ignored my cries, and began to lick slowly at the wound.
It stung, I'll admit, but something about the warm drool on my skin felt nice. I let her continue her minstration, and for the first time, touched her--putting my right hand on top her left, as she braced the ground with it. It was a warm, human's hand, but covered thick with brown hairs, and sporting thick, smooth, blunt black claws. I felt them, hard and dirty, traced the articulation of her delicate fingers, felt the coarse pads on the edge of her fingertips, made of dense hairs.
Something amazing began to happen, as a warmth filled me. I felt my ears stretch, and could hear flesh knitting itself back together. I watched as she raised her head, and revealed my leg--brand new, uninjured between the torn cloth. Say for some blood, I could find no wound--and felt no pain as I placed my hand in the opening.
Steam practically rolled from my rising, elongating ears, as a change began to work itself over my body. I felt a tightness in my pants, a nub forming from my rear, pressing hard against the back of my jeans. Whatever force that had made my benefactor what she was, was asserting itself over me, now. I started to feel a twinge of panic, backing away from her on my butt in the leaves, as I began to mutate.
My skin began to take a reddish tinge, all over my arms and stomach. I felt hot--my temperature rising, yet the fever was short-lived, as my body quickly began to change and adapt. My ears, which now stood up over my head, through my hair, let off heat as they began to grow fine hairs all over.
She crept forward, and began to take my clothes off for me, loosening my belt, and helping me out of my pants. The relief to my backside was palpable as the nub above my rump began pushing and stretching out, til it was at least a foot in length, and hanging out over my underpants.
What was I supposed to do, or say to her? She was my benefactor, and now I was taking on a form like hers. Hitting her or pushing away and running seemed hardly appropriate, even as terrified as I was--I would only be alone, then. So instead, I let her pull my underpants down, and strip me of myself. I let my penis hang out, erect, and felt her take stock of my loins with her hands. The rough pads brushed against my balls, prickling my skin with their hairs, but she wrapped her fingers around them, and gave them a gentle squeeze. Then she began to lick my shaft, to encourage it to mutate.
I was going to get a fox cock. It wasn't rape, exactly--I was willing by this point, but the thought was still beyond bizarre. Here was this she-beast, who had found me hurt, tended to my wounds, and now she was preparing to mate with me, as one of her own kind. The only thing keeping it from being a nightmare was how... natural it felt as the changes took me over, compelling me toward becoming hers. I found elation as the tickling fur began to pronounce itself on my backside, and on portions of my stomach. I hung my tongue from my mouth as it broadened, thinned, and drops of saliva percolated.
She gave a strong, slow and steady lick, up and down my penis, palming my buttocks with her hands as she sat on her knees. The first change brought with it flacidity to my cock--but arousal never quite abated. Something changed in my pelvis, and soon I had unique control over my erection. It was not so much that I could arouse myself at will, but that my dick could erect itself, controlled like any other limb. I did not look down, but felt something creeping across my stomach, sensed a tightening in my skin as a sheathe formed, guiding my member into a new position.
Thick fur was growing from all over my waistline, and spreading across my legs interminably. With her continued licking, I felt as it spread to my tail, which began to stretch ever longer. My stomach churned, and the pressure in my bowels mounted, as my prostate swole to compete. I found I could no longer control myself, and stooped to take a shit then and there, raising my tail as it reached full bloom. What came out was not human crap, but fox scat, coiled and rank with musk. As my spinchter spread, I could feel the pressure against my prostate as I dropped my load shamelessly, driving me to new levels of arousal.
In spite of my actions, she stooped and continued to lick my dick, even as the last of the stuff was sliding down and out of my anus, onto the ground with a soft thump. I felt the sheathe that she had given me begin to subsume my member, growing thicker and covered in white fur. I teared up, looking down at the thing, attached to my belly, held almost vertical. It had turned bright, bright red, and looked smooth to the touch. I relaxed my pelvic muscles, and watched in amazement as it slid into my sheathe and was closed upon by what looked like three little lips of black skin, that tightened over the tip in a sort of Y shape. I stood, and she let me admire the changes to the rest of my body with what could have been a smile, had they not been made my dog lips.
The fur had thickened over the entirety of my torso and lower body. From the neck up, I was still modestly human--I could feel fur growing up the back of my neck, and my animal ears, thick with hairs, which I could oscillate and lower over my head, or raise high in the air--but my face was still a young man's. My hands too, were still relatively untained by the change--I still had sensitive, bare fingertips, instead of pads--but already I could feel something changing in them, a soreness in my fingernails as they too got ready for the next stage of the transformation.
I touched my tail, running my hand over its length. I couldn't even reach the tip, it was so long. In fact, I could hang it between my legs and almost reach the spot the bear trap had bitten down upon. It was covered in thick, bushy hairs, and when I brought my hand back up, a cloying smell stuck to it--musk from new glands that had formed along its length.
Looking down past my sheathed memorabilia, I saw my feet had all but changed entirely, still retaining a vague human semblance, but coated in black stockings of fur. I gently wiggled my toes matted with tight black pads, and watched the nails pop off one by one, replaced by curved black claws, which I gripped the ground with.
I sat then, not far from the scat I'd just deposited, and lay down on one side, curling my body tight. My spine had gained surprising flexibility. I could almost bring my head together with my rear. My tail curled around,and reached my face. I could blanket myself with it; I thought, wagging the thing before my eyes.
She crept up, turning, and lowered her rear over me. I turned my head, and then rolled onto my back, accepting the offer, and returning her servicing with my own. She had a strange vulva--big and puffy, not like a human girl's. You could cup it in the palm of your hand--it had thick, soft lips, covered in black hairs, and it curved like a crescent moon--pointed out at the bottom tip. I licked it with my transformed tongue, and found that getting in was a bit of an ordeal, trying to use it like a human tongue. I found that with force and repetition, I could make my way in to reach her clitoris, prodding it repeatedly with the thing, exploring what else I could with as much grace as a doggish tongue can have. I licked up her juices, felt my face begin to metamorphose, my nose stretching into her stinky cunt and resting there, elongated and transformed with a wet rhinarium...
And then she went down on me with that mouth of hers, exposing my cold new nose to fresh air, and the scent of pine cones and decaying leaves, interspersed with fox poop and fox rut, which mixed together into a wild aphrodisiac. I felt the skin of my sheath, dangerously close to her sharp carnassals, in that long, narrow maw. Her tongue stroked at each hair, coaxing me into releasing my member into her mouth. It came from its sheath, tender and sensitive, changing into its final form as she licked the pre that formed.
I felt that hot, slick muscle invade my piss slit, shooting up to stroke my cock head. As she licked, my glans lost its definition, those mushroom folds clinging tight to the skin, that iconic shape of a human penis melting, as the tip became more ovular and streamlined. I felt my dick both narrow and elongate, gaining a crooked upward bend, even as her continues licks caused the end to elongate into a downard-curved tip. When she released it from her mouth, and lay to my side, still licking about the length, I took further inventory of the changes, and found that what had been a slit, had transformed into a pinhead-sized hole on the end of a nozzle, crowning the tip of my curved head.
She got up, and offered me a test run of my neat new tool. How could I resist?! My brain had melted through--completely consumed by its new species, and its ancient purpose. Years of vain yearning as a human were going to get fulfilled--right here and now. I took that dick, hanging rigid even without erection, and I climbed onto her back, gripping her between her lovely teats. Grunts and moans issuing from us both, we began to rock back and forth as I pistoned into her, aiming my pisser for her folds, and finally striking gold. The chiseled, streamlined head slipped in, I felt her vulva welcoming its guest, and finally, with a few more bobs, I made it all the way down to the hilt.
We--well, caterwauled would be the best way to describe it. My voice was a fox's now! I could utter all the words of praise and rejoice I desired, and they came out as bestial cries! The very concept of language became new and exciting-excretions and body motions, noises and cries instead of banal banter. Every part of my body worked in concert to seize that precious moment, my cock growing turgid inside her, a hard knot tying me into her clenching walls, engorging at the base of my member.
Hump. Hump. Hump hump hump hump hump....
For what seemed like hours, but it was only minutes. Finally, my whole body tingling, I reached the verge, the intense climax. I tried to hold out even one ounce of humanity, but it all collapsed like a damn as my loins burst, my nozzled tip firing ropes of raunchy yellow semen into her womb, even as the walls continued to spasm and massage my little tod.
The frontal lobe of my brain took hold, telling me movement and motion, whiping away reason and rational, and abstract thinking. My lower brain was telling me this vixen was not just a good fuck, was part of me now, was something to protect, to nurture til she bore my kits. My face pressed out ridiculously, forming a whiskered, tooth-filled muzzle, and finally, my change was complete. I was a fox man, a creature just like her.
I exhaled a deep breath, lifted a leg, and swung it over her back, conjoined with her, rump to rump, as she pulled every last splash of sperm from my hot rod. We bounced a little, and I almost could have sworn I heard her giggle--but it must have been my imagination.
Then we pulled apart, finally. I scrambled to my knees--still thankfully able to stand and walk like a man--and then my breath caught in my throat, as shock, horror, and black humor filled my lustful heart.
You stinking, sly, horny bitch!
She had crawled to the bear trap, tail raised high over her back... and re-opened it, to await yet another victim.