FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Hunter's Ninth Tail

The mighty hunter stalked his prey

Through boughs of fir and pine.

He had eight pelts to make his coat

But in all he needed nine.

A vestment to prove his worth

And show the world his skill;

To verify his excellence

Nine foxes would he kill.

He found the tracks and then his mark

With fluffy tail held high.

It's amber eyes looked up at him,

Just daring him to try.

Bow drawn taut he took his aim.

The fox just sat and waited.

It stared directly at the man

So unanticipated.

He took his shot, but coughed and missed,

The fox just wasn't there!

The man looked round and all about

And scratched his tussled hair.

Suddenly he lurched and hacked,

Something caught in his throat.

A heavy rounded weight was there,

Sinking as he choked.

It settled in his stomach

With an oddly solid heat.

He shook his head dismissively

And rose back to his feet.

His footing was unsteady

And his vision blurred;

The forest swam around him

Until it was obscured.

Then a noise behind him

Did make him turn about.

What he saw surprised him,

But he stifled in his shout.

A lovely woman walked there

And she turned her toothsome head,

She wore a lovely floral robe,

Her hair a fiery red.

Excuse me Sir, I have misplaced

My very special ball.

It was given as a gift to me

And I'm sure that it did fall

Out of my bag near here somewhere,

I'm almost certain of it.

If you could help me find it,

My dear sir, I'd love it.

The man bent down and looked around,

Her request was not refused.

The woman was so beautiful

There was nothing else to choose.

But as he circled carefully

His head pulled back in fright

As he looked behind the woman

And her tails fell in his sight.

To numerous to count they shook

As she walked in with a grin

To the fallen crawling man,

Much to his chagrin.

Her eyes were golden: foxy,

and her face was vulpine too.

He saw her claws and whiskers

As his fear rose up anew.

I see that you were hunting

And your tails are numbered eight.

This feat has taken prowess

And your skills they must be great.

Oh, Stop groveling you shame yourself.

Your actions they degrade you.

Worry not my darling man,

For I'm just here to aid you.

I know where you can find a tail

Or even track down nine.

I have some years experience

As you can tell from mine.

She turned her hips and the man watched;

Her luscious tails all shook.

His eyes followed them mesmerized

Away he could not look.

Now your way of finding tails

Is quite unique indeed,

But I have a different plan

That will fulfill your need.

She drew in tight, close to the man

And tussled up his hair.

She pulled the laces on his shirt

Until his chest was bare.

Her foxy scent hung in the air.

She leaned in for a kiss.

Struck dumb, the man just stood there,

His mind reeling in bliss.

Black thin lips did touch his own.

Whiskers twitched against his skin.

Her wet pink tongue flicked in and out

Again and then again.

As she worked his nose pressed out

And turned a leathern black.

As he smelled her truest scent

His body all went slack.

That sultry burning vulpine smell

Did shake him to his core,

But all that he could bare to think

Was how he wanted more.

Yes, I think you start to see

My darling little man.

Now you can sense the details

Of my clever little plan.

It's cute the way your hands raise up

And press in, disbelieving.

Your twitching whiskers on your face

Your senses aren't deceiving.

But don't be shy I've seen your lust

For lovely foxy fur.

So just relax and let me help,

She rumbled with a purr.

Her golden eyes did wander then

Over his twisting mass.

His fur was growing fluffy,

And his manner much less crass.

With arms twisting and fidgeting

He rubbed his itching shirt

Until he couldn't stand it

and he tossed it to the dirt.

A luscious pelt as least as nice

As any you have skinned.

Don't worry, just relax now,

And give your body in,

To sharper senses, sharper teeth

And sharper wily mind.

You can't be dull and brutish

If you are one of my kind.

Then she leaned in behind him

And stroked across his chest

Whispering sweet nothings

With her panting sultry breath.

Just let me knead and then caress

Under your silky white.

Let your skin just tense and writhe

And become nice and tight.

On his chest then lower down

And then lower again:

Raising nubs of pleasure

Against his supple skin.

It felt so tight and sensitive

That he grit his teeth and hissed

Clinging to humanity

Though it was hardly missed.

And now you are so foxy.

Just look at that nice paw.

You don't need your hands now

To pull your bow to draw.

Don't whimper now my darling.

Just feel the warm heat grow;

Welling up inside of you,

It's wonderful, I know.

His remaining clothes seemed huge now

As his form did shrink,

With twitching pointed foxy ears

And panting tongue so pink.

And what do we have here,

At the base of your orange back?

It's just what you were looking for,

Just feel it twist and crack.

And there's the luscious fur now

Just racing down its length.

It wags as your legs tighten

And form with vulpine strength.

And so the man stands panting,

Now on padded paws.

His fluffy tail wags fitfully

His tongue licks past his jaws.

And now the girl looms over him,

Her graceful form so large.

She watches him intently,

Taking stock of her new charge.

There's one last thing, Her paw slides down

The orange fur on his back.

Something that a vixen has,

And something that you lack.

Her fingers slide behind him,

And he let's loose a yip.

She take's his vulpine pride in hand

And squeezes with her grip.

He groans and whines in pleasure

As her paw rubs in.

His senses blaze in wonder

As his world begins to spin.

I bet my vixen likes that,

Tail thrashing in the air,

Back arced up with neediness;

I tease but take great care

To show you your new body

And all that it can offer.

Your animal enticement

That was mine alone to proffer.

The man then shakes his foxy head

And looks around surprised.

He sees the spirits of the world

With gleaming amber eyes.

When he turns to the woman

He sees her true form there:

A nine tailed fox is standing proud

With shining fiery hair.

Now I have much to teach you

And you have much to learn.

You could leave me if you want to

And my knowledge you could spurn.

Or you could follow closely,

It really is your choice.

In a century you'll grow a tail

And find your real voice.

Then in another hundred years

Your tails will number three,

And I can help you make it there

If you follow me . . .

His thoughts were stopped, his hackles raised

He loosed a hacking sound.

As something from inside of him

He then spat out on the ground

Oh there it was, I told you

Of the ball I lost before.

She grasped the shining silver thing

With promises in store.

You'll find an orb as well, you know,

When your tails number eight,

And maybe when you have all nine

Then you can be my mate . . .

And then she walked away from him

And padded towards the trees.

The man's foxy mind was racing

With possibilities.

With a start, he trotted after her

Taking leaping vulpine bounds.

They entered in the forest there

So filled with nature's sounds.

The lessons that he learned were swift

The years flew by and by.

The seasons changing rapidly;

New foxy things to try.

He had to start with just one tail,

But gained his other eight.

And the one who helped him do so

Then became his perfect mate.

Two female fox's mischief

Was know throughout the lands.

Their forest was made sacred

And spared from human plans.

So let the be a lesson,

And all that it entails:

There's just one way to skin a fox

But several to find tails.