Snow Bunny - Ch. 1

Story by Sphyrna Mokarren on SoFurry

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#1 of Snow Bunny

After a fox thief mugs a rabbit on a snowy winter night, he gets more than he bargained for. As an entrepreneur in the sex industry, he finds himself dealing with kinky businessmen, vengeful pimps, and a sexy escort that he can't afford to have feelings for.

First person from the fox's point of view.

M/M

Multi-chapter story. Work-in-progress -- New chapters posted every Sunday.

Comments welcome and appreciated :)


It's not easy being a black fox in winter. It's hard to make a living any time of the year, but when the snow lies deep and white over the city, and the streetlights turn midnight to midday, the light reflecting off every sparkling snowflake, it's nearly impossible. I do what I can, dressing in light-colored clothes and keeping my glossy black tail tucked under my long coat, but I still have to seek out the dark places in the city, the quiet, shadowed corners in which to do my hunting. Unfortunately, most creatures know better than to venture into the shadows at night.

Most creatures.

Tonight, there's no moon, at least, the silver crescent hidden behind a thick layer of clouds that hold the promise of more snow. Just what I need, a blizzard to keep everyone inside. I need to find some prey tonight or I'll be hungry for a while.

Slinking along through the thin snow beneath the shelter of the trees, I skirt the edge of an open field, the bright lights of the city glowing at the far edges of the park. My paws are cold, my muzzle frosted with frozen condensation from my breath, and my ears have long since gone numb. I'm starting to think it's futile to remain out in the snow, when the soft crunch of pawsteps in the drifts draws my attention.

Hurrying across the meadow, just beyond the shadow of the trees, is a slender male rabbit with thick white fur, his big hindpaws allowing him to cross the deep snow with little trouble. He's bundled up in a puffy purple coat, his front paws shoved deep in his pockets, but the hood is down, revealing a shock of purple-dyed hair. His little puff of a tail is dyed purple, too.

I keep to the darkness beneath the trees, matching pace with him, watching and waiting. When he's almost to the middle of the meadow -- too far for anyone to hear him if he shouts for help -- I break cover, pulling my switchblade out of my jeans as I struggle through the drifted snow. He doesn't hear me coming until I'm almost upon him, and in the moment he wastes glancing back over his shoulder at me, I knock him down and pounce on him, the silver blade springing out with a wicked snick as I hold it in front of his face. He stares up at me with wide, frightened green eyes.

"Pleasedon'tkillme, pleasedon'tkillme, pleasedon'tkillme!" he gasps over and over, his whole body shaking.

"Shut up," I growl. "Don't move." I start searching his pockets, turning up a half-empty bottle of lube, a strip of condoms, and a wad of cash. My ears perk up as I count out over five hundred dollars. "My lucky day," I say with a chuckle as I climb off of him.

"Please, you can't take that," he says, sitting up and reaching out for the money.

I slap his paw away and point my blade at him again. "I can do whatever I want." And just to prove it, I say, "Now gimme your jacket."

"What? No-- It's my only one--"

I grab one of his long, soft ears and I twist until he squeals.

"Okay, okay! Here! Take it!" He strips off the coat and throws it at my feet, leaving him shivering in the snow in nothing but a pair of skinny jeans and a sheer purple T-shirt so see-through I can see the rings in his pierced nipples.

"The jewelry, too," I snap. "Hand it over."

"It's just cheap silver; it's not worth much," he mumbles, reaching up under his shirt to take out the rings.

"Got any more?" I ask as he hands them over. He hesitates and I jerk him to his feet, tickling under his chin with the point of my blade. "Don't fuck with me, long-ears, or I'll cut them off."

His hands are shaking as he unbuttons his jeans and lowers the zipper, reaching down into his underwear. I push his hand away and shove his jeans down, exposing a thick, silver ring peeking out through the opening of his sheath. I cup the furry sheath with my paw and stroke it, making him whimper and squirm. It takes a minute, but I coax his cock out, his cheeks turning scarlet beneath his fur as I finger the head before unscrewing one of the knobs and sliding the ring free.

I stand there for a minute, slowly stroking his cock, the smell of his arousal making me start to get hard, but it's too fucking cold out, and the snow has started to fall again. "You're lucky I have better things to do," I say, letting go of him. I pick up his coat and walk away, disappearing back into the darkness beneath the trees. I watch as he pulls his pants up and breaks into a stumbling run across the meadow, his arms wrapped tight around his thin body.

I follow him. I usually don't follow my prey home, but anyone who carries that much cash around is worth a second look. I bet he's got a nice stereo, TV, laptop...

Maybe not. I tail him to a run-down slum near the river, watching from the mouth of an alley as he hurries up the steps of a crumbling brownstone and knocks on the door. It opens and a portly rhino steps out, wearing a tie, but no jacket, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his suspenders showing. I can see his watch from across the street -- brand name, not a knockoff -- and each of his thick fingers is adorned with a heavy gold ring, most of them encrusted with diamonds. I wonder if I could slip in through the back while he's busy with the rabbit--

I flinch as the rhino belts the rabbit across the face, knocking him down the front steps. The rabbit lands in a heap in the dirty snow and doesn't move. The rhino spit in his direction, then turns and goes back inside.

I stand in the alley, waiting for the rabbit to get up, but he just lies there. He's going to freeze to death, especially since I have his coat. I look down at the puffy purple garment in my hands and I feel unexpectedly guilty. Is this my fault?

Something moves at the other end of the block and I glance over as a ragged-looking raccoon shuffles through the snow, heading for the motionless rabbit. After a moment, the raccoon sees him and hurries over, giving him a gentle shake, trying to wake him. Good, someone will help him. I won't have to feel guilty after all.

When the rabbit doesn't stir, the raccoon glances around, then crouches and begins pulling down the rabbit's jeans and underwear. Taking my switchblade out of my pocket, I cross the street and sneak up behind him. The raccoon opens the front of his own jeans and strokes his sheath, preparing to help himself to the unconscious rabbit's tight ass, but I grab him by the back of his collar, my other arm wrapping around him and pressing the blade of my knife against his sheath.

"Unless you want a free sex-change operation, I'd tuck it back in and get the hell out of here," I snarl. He nods and pulls his jeans closed, running away without a backward look. I regard the rabbit for a moment, then sigh. Placing the coat over him, I quickly work his pants back up, then lift him up out of the slush. He's soaking wet and freezing, but at least he isn't very heavy. There's blood on his face from a split lip, a bloody nose, and a nasty cut on his cheekbone, probably caused by the rhino's rings.

I carry him to the nearest busy street and hail a taxi. The panda cab driver gives me a suspicious look as I place the rabbit in the back and climb in beside him, but he doesn't ask and I don't volunteer. I give him my address and hang on to the unconscious rabbit as we roll through the bright, snowy city streets, the falling flakes growing larger and thicker, pattering against the windshield.

The cab pulls up in front of my apartment building and I pay the driver with the money I took from the rabbit, then carry my awkward burden into the building and up three flights of stairs, since the elevator doesn't work, and hasn't worked the entire time I've lived here. Still, the rent is cheap, the rats are small, and no one cares who you carry in at three in the morning.

Once inside the tiny apartment, I carry him into the bedroom and lay him down on the bed. I fetch a towel out of the bathroom, strip off his wet clothes, and rub the moisture out of his snow white fur. When he's dry, I tuck him into my bed, then use a warm washcloth to wash the blood off his face. The entire right side of his face is swollen, dark bruises starting to form beneath his fur. I dab some antibiotic cream on the cut on his cheek for good measure.

It's late and I'm cold, and since my sofa is threadbare and smells like the alley where I'd found it, I strip off my clothes and slide in under the covers with the naked rabbit. Two bodies are warmer than one, anyway.