|||Power Struggle|||

I
Through the window, the magnificent chrome and steel expanse of Driftveil gleamed in the near-noon sunlight. Stylish architecture rose from the ground below, like the thickest silver jungle; canopies of rooftops sprawled across the horizon like twisted play-parks. Ladders and slopes, rails and leaps -- it was like a visage of natural plains cast in steel, and to the quiet, six-tailed Vulpix, called Tyne, the freedom of the outside world was wounding.

His tail drooped, hanging down into the room, as he placed his auburn paw-pad against the glass -- remembering the days when he had been growing up in the plains of Kanto; deep in the wild expanses of the Safari Zone. Taught to forage by his mother, a glorious Ninetales, he’d grown quickly -- he’d learnt to run fast, hide well; how to stay quiet, how to sneak, and how to have fun with the few friends he’d made - Sandshrew, Ponyta... though, of course, with youth came naivety, and it hadn’t lasted forever.

Back when he was young, a man with scruffy hair and strange clothes had thrown him some food, out in those wild expanses. He’d gone out and tasted it, dumb as a pup -- and though he’d been wary enough to hear the air whistling towards him as soon as he’d taken a bite; he hadn’t been nearly fast enough to dodge the rock that had smashed into him. Dazed, he hadn’t had a chance in all hell to escape the poacher’s Pokeball as he was trapped inside it, and soon enough he had been caged. Sold off. Gifted from father to daughter. Now, he was just a pet, locked in the thirty-fourth floor of some high-fashion flat, terrorised by some demon urban creature.

Distracted in reverie, he didn’t hear the rustle of paw against carpet -- and as the floor creaked, something clamped around his tails, grunting.

“Syphe- !”, Tyne yelled out, desperately scrabbling and grabbing with his claws at the wood of the windowsill -- and his stomach lurched sickeningly as he fell backwards, crashing painfully to the floor.

Stunned and dazed, he was already trapped -- a rare, pedigree, golden Vulpix stood over him; Tyne’s own tails victoriously roughed in the other’s muzzle, a clear smirk smeared across it. As he painfully opened his eyes, Syphe’s pearlescent eyes glinted; watching the auburn ‘pix beneath him writhe in pain.

Finally, the golden Vulpix snarled in contempt, spitting the tails from his maw. “Enjoying the pretty view, ya’ little faggot?”, he snapped; batting the dazed Tyne around the cheek roughly with a paw.
.

Tyne could only splutter, weakly - winded by the fall, he struggled for breath. “Wha-- what the hell was that for-?”

“Where’d you hide your food, queerpix?”

“Q-quit calling me that...”

Syphe grimaced, frustrated. Stepping further over the Vulpix beneath him, his paw grazed roughly up Tyne’s belly-fur, slim claws gliding over the belly beneath - before resting squarely on the smaller Vulpix’s white-furred neck.

“You strut around on stage like a pussy,” Syphe drawled, tightening his squeeze. “and you look cute for squealing girls. You don’t do jack shit, you don’t deserve jack shit, and I’m hungry.”

Tyne shivered, feeling Syphe’ claws edging out even further from the slits between his digits.

“Don’t nobody give a fuck about you, and - I’ll say it again - I’m hungry. So - where’s your fucking food? Or, d’you want me to make you look like shit for your next stage-show? I’d love to do it all over again.”

"G-gerroff-", Tyne panted, desperately wriggling and writhing, his ears flat against the back of his head as he struggled - he couldn't breathe, and Syphe wasn't letting go!

The golden Vulpix spat, his nails fiercely snapping to full extension- gripping around Tyne's neck, as Tyne’s own paws clasped around it, trying to pull him off..

"What'd you say, you little shit? D’you know what I do? I fuck! I breed, because I’m a winner, and you’re nothing but crude eye-candy -- you show off for nobody but stupid humans. You proud of that?”

Disgusted, Syphe recoiled, leaving the smaller brown Vulpix gasping -- sliding his claws back into his paw. But the sound of each rattling breath that contemptible weakling drew felt like a rake on his increasingly furious mood - and he couldn't stand it, roaring as he whipped around, slamming his balled paw right into Tyne's belly.

“Do you even get what you are to me? You're a fucking disgrace!”

--

The sun was high and bright on yet another beautiful summer’s day, and the population of the stunning fashionable districts of Driftveil were split in two. Most people would retire to their various apartments and lodging, to siesta the hours of high noon away.

But there was no allowance for tardiness for the districts of haute couture; the high streets, the restaurants that openly served the finest connoisseurs of the city, the small cafés that had recently stepped into the light of fashion - for all of them, image had to be maintained.

If they closed, then people would begin to think that there must be a reason their store couldn’t keep up with the weights of demand. Rumours would begin to spread -- if they couldn’t keep up, they must be weak. Maybe, quelle horreur, those supposedly-fashionable places might not be so grand...

As it ever did, public opinion divided and conquered in the cruel world of business. Rumours and speculation would bounce around, that whichever fashionable restaurant was victim to changing opinion today must be so much lower than the rest. In this business for the high-class society, they’d lose their standing, and lose fast.

High culture was a cruel world.

And so, as the two girls sat at Table 6, chatting animatedly, their waiter stood in silence. His pressed, white tuxedo was spotless, and even in the summer sun, not a single bead of sweat would run down the side of his face. Hell, even just to sweat was worth more than his job; a single tarnish could damage the reputation of the entire business - and it was high pressure work.

But in this area of town, his pay made up for it. High culture was a cruel world, but it paid the dividends of cruelty.

Not that any of this mattered to the two girls - both young adults - for, to them, life was easy.

It was the middle of summer! A break from the pressures of college and study, and the hoity-toity goody-two-shoes Artic fraternity at the university, and the horrible smell of those unfashionable slackers in the Zap fraternity... enough with them; it was time to relax!

Table 6 was the girl’s favourite table. It was the better ornamented of the three outside tables; and this was her favourite new café - Cubstarks, where coffee was made with the finest Hondew berry extracts.

Her name was Jenna - or, Jennifer-Harriet as Mother called her, even though she did hate that name - and as she listened to another of her friend’s stories, laughing politely as appropriate, she placed her finished cup of cocoa back on its enamel saucer - not even blinking, as it was promptly retrieved by the waiter.

“...and, my goodness, he had the most terrible stain down on the back of his trousers - it was the most dreadful sight! Of course, as you’d expect, the whole college was laughing at him for months; he’d made such a fool!”

Jenna smiled - her companion, the storyteller Lizzie, laughed.

It was fortunate that white clothes were fashionable this season, for the sun was baking. Both girls wore light, white outfits - Jenna sporting a slim, designer tank top, her lightly tanned skin matching well with her shoulder-length blonde hair, though Lizzie’s outfit was far more conservative, not showing a scrap of skin save for her hands - both of which clasped a large bowl of cocoa. Her long, straightened auburn hair fell behind her, down the back of her chair; shining in the sun, and swaying softly in the breeze.

Both girls were students of the city’s highly renowned Pokemon Beauty Academy, the top ranking college in the world for Pokemon beauticians in training; famed highly for the stylish Pokemon its students often brought into the limelight. It was a hard place to get into - unless, of course, you had the money to pay for a sure spot. Or, if your parents did.

United at first by their common love and ownership of Vulpix, the girls had become fast friends. It only made sense for them to share a flat, and the thirty-fourth floor of their academy lodgings gave one of the best views in Driftveil.

Though Tyne and Syphe hadn’t become great friends, the girls took comfort in knowing they weren’t at each other’s throats.

“So, go on; how did his girlfriend act?” asked Jenna; politely probing for conversation.

“Oh, Lucy? Arceus, she wasn’t his girlfriend for long. Nobody could have that sort of shame and still have a girl to hold onto! After all - it was all over the back of his pants!” giggled Lizzie.

Liz took a long sip from her cocoa as Jenna snuck a glance at the time of day - nearly two in the afternoon, goodness - before placing the bowl back on her own enamel saucer, and smiling back at her friend.

“Dear, you’ve been worrying about the time ever since we locked them both in the flat.”

Jenna flustered for a moment to interject- but Lizzie continued regardless.

“Nuh-uh-uh~”, she trilled. “I saw you looking at your watch! It’s as if you just can’t relax without them both around.”

Jenna mouthed, as if to object - but sighed.

“You’re right, Liz, you are right... listen, I do love it out here, but can we go see them?”

“Why, darling, of course we can. You know they’ll be happy to see us!” she laughed -- a sly, mischievous smile sneaking onto her perfect face. “And besides... we got what we came for, now, didn’t we?”

“Well, you did. There was only one Fire Stone.”

“Well, well-- don’t be a spoilsport, darling. I’m quite happy with Tyne’s plumage. I just know he’s going to look gorgeous on the stage with nine, long tails.”

“Definitely,” nodded Jenna, encouragingly. “Besides... why would I want a blue Ninetales when I’ve got a golden Vulpix? Syphe’s sooo popular at the moment.”

“Really, now; have we degraded to bragging, dear-?”


========


II


The sound of the key turning in the lock was all the warning Syphe needed to release Tyne, rolling over the smaller Vulpix before sitting on his hinds - tilting his head, just as Jenna and Liz slipped through the flat’s door.

Talking animatedly between themselves, they seemed a little distracted. Nonchalantly, he licked his forepaw - making sure to show them both just how cute he was, as he cleaned the blood off his paw-pad.

“Awww, look, he’s cleaning himself...” mewled Jenna, turning Liz to see.

“Oh, that’s just charming... Mm, Jenna, is Tyne back there with him?”

Jenna stepped towards the two Vulpixes, as Liz busied herself off in the kitchen, the squeaks of opening and closing cupboards letting the scent of fresh Poke-kibble waft quietly into the living-space. Syphe swished his paw against an ear, letting it flick back, audibly trilling.

“Mmm.. yeah, it looks like he’s just behind the couch here.. oh dear, oh dear,” sighed Jenna, before giggling again as her beautiful, golden Vulpix pawed softly at her ankle.

“Liz-”, Jenna called. “It looks like they’ve been play-fighting again. Tyne’s got a scratch on his belly.”

“Again-!? Oh, Lugia’s pants... I spent forever on his fur this morning, and a scratch will never do.”

There was a dense clanging and banging of cupboards, and Syphe rewarded himself with a chuckle - the two dumb girls never suspected a thing.

“Where are the Potions, Jenna?”

He chanced an unrepentant glance down at Tyne -- dazed and confused, winded, half-strangled; and suppressed a smug smile behind his innocent face as he imagined Tyne’s body aching with bruises hidden under the down of his auburn fur. His assault had been brutal... and calculatingly reserved. He was proud of that.

“Potions are under the sink, like always! Bring a Sitrus or two, too, will you? Syphe’s just acting toooooo cute.”

“Rather, Jenna, would you mind too much bringing Tyne over here? We can give him his surprise in the kitchen!”, called Liz.

Syphe twitched. A surprise? For Tyne, but not for him-?

“Yeah, yeah - sure!”

He looked down at the comatose Vulpix, feeling indignant as Jenna picked Tyne up; her caring arms nestling the small, brown Vulpix against her chest... and as they walked away, he tempered his fury, keeping his face level and passive.

That little queer shit was getting preferential treatment-?!

----

Tyne lay weakly, feeling the cool surface beneath his side.

It was well past noon - and the sun was hanging in the sky, bleaching the city orange. Through the window, it looked like a grim fire had gripped the horizon; light seared through the glass, basking him in its glow. It felt warm - like the hands that crawled over his body, brushing through his fur.

He twitched again, as those fingers dragged over a bruise.

“Ah!”, Jenna squealed. “Found one. Pass a potion?”

The cool salvo singed gently as it soaked through his fur - the scientifically-crafted medicine repairing him in ways he couldn’t understand.

“So, that’s the scratch dealt with, and six or seven bruises... you still think it was a playfight, dear?”

“It had to be an accident... Syphe wouldn’t hurt a fly, Liz, you know that! Please, don’t hold it against him...”

Tyne shivered; the kitchen work-surface felt cold.

“Well, whatever happened, I think we’re done here. Pass him an Oran?”

Something blue and round floated in his vision, and he sleepily batted it with his paw. Go away...

“... I don’t think he wants one.”

“Oh, no matter. How about the Stone?”

The girls hung another shiny distraction in front of him. Lazily, he slapped it again with a weakened blow-- and shivered, twitching away from it!

The stone seared hot, a fire that he wasn’t used to - a type of heat that unlike the warmth of the sun. Beyond ethereal, the feeling was otherworldly -- and the tingling was spreading from his paw, the heat turning into a white glow...

“H-ha.. Liz, watch!”

“Oh, excellent! How cute.”

His ears twitched, as the aberrant, inexplicable white light suffused through his body, his limbs numbing -- feeling suffused with an incredible power, he rose to four paws with an unnatural ease on the kitchen work-surface; just as the world exploded into whiteness.

His limbs stretched and ached. Something burst within him; fire filled up his chest. He couldn’t hear the world, only air- rushing, and running -- was he flying?

Solid ground fought against his invisible, stretching paws.
All he could see was white! Feeling returned, flooding him; his body was different, fundamentally changed - more powerful, stretched, gripped and squeezed by some incredible power.

Impossible paws reached out and grabbed at ethereal shards. Forces contrived, slamming senses together - the world returned, in a crescendo of heightened senses, an explosion of being.

But the whiteness hadn’t left his body...

… no, on the contrary - he had become white.

White fur covered his paws, his chest; his snout! He looked behind him, at the delighted girls, then at himself - nine, blissfully long, powerful tails curled through the air. The squeals of the girls rang through sensitive ears; the surface beneath him felt different, with a more varied texture.

A searing flame burned in his chest, warm and comforting; stronger and more alive than the light spark that had always been there. Power unfurled in tight-sprung limbs- he leaped from the table, landing on the floor below with ease, as his nine tails floated with a laconic grace that just seemed perfect.

Slowly, a grin grew on his maw as the girls beset themselves on him, four human hands caressing and stroking through his fur, against his ears. He nuzzled them gratefully, letting the tingling feeling of content contact rush through him -- goosebumps and happiness jostling his senses, as he stretched out, curling over for the investigating girls, looking over his new fine and furred, powerful, incredible form.

Now this... felt right.


=====


III

Syphe flinched, startled out of half-slumber on the coffee-table.

Finally, he crooned. Both the girls had locked themselves in the kitchen for what felt like hours, and it was coming nearly up to time for his evening meal.

He yawned, stretching himself out, before leaping down from the furniture, padding across the carpet; with groggy hearing, he noticed with half-enthused acknowledgement that the girls seemed incredibly excited.

Yep. I’d miss me, too.

“... but we simply must get my bag -- I’d go back for yours!”

“But the market is an hour away, we’ll miss the start of Jubilife TV... couldn’t we phone them?”

“Quit your whining, darling, and forget your TV! This is a matter of bag or bag-less, goodness-!”

Syphe phased them out, losing interest. They weren’t talking about food, and as Jenna stepped towards him, he closed his eyes, still feeling drained from the cat-nap.

Her arms wrapped around his feet, and lifted him up.

“But, let’s introduce Syphe to new Tyne at least, then...”

The golden Vulpix twitched, catching the words. What? A new Tyne? One was enough of a waste of space, surely?

As he nudged himself against Jenna’s breasts, the tiny, vulpine Vulpix’s eyes opened wide, as a glorious, pristine, powerful Ninetales stepped out from behind Liz - staring directly at him.
Fire lanced from his deep, crimson eyes; nine, graceful tails twitched and floated behind his shining body...

Tyne..?

This couldn’t be true, no. Tyne was a piece of shit, a home invader, a bloody punchbag.

The Ninetales smiled - and despite the fire-type’s inner, permanent heat, Syphe felt like he’d swallowed ice. But if this was Tyne...

oh, shit...

--

As Jenna placed Syphe back down on the sofa, the new creature padded towards it - leaping atop the cushions besides him with a serene grace; smirking with pride; a majestic, fearful aura seeming to seep through the air, and making the golden Vulpix... nervous. The girls crowded around the door of the flat; fiddling with shoes, keys -- calling and waving to the two Pokemon.

In a sickening show of pseudo-affection, the kitsune curled a long, fluffy, golden-white tail around the smaller Vulpix’s body -- pulling Syphe close, as if the Ninetales revelled in the reach and strength of his body.

“Awwwh...”, cooed Jenna, as Liz began to close the door; the laughter of both girls dropping like a stone in Syphe’s belly.

“Have fun with Tyne, baby!”

So it IS Tyne..

With every dripping second, Syphe stared right into Jenna’s eyes as, heart sinking, his paws dug into the fabric of the couch. The unusual feeling of dread that swelled inside him flared into true fear, he heard Tyne’s low, malevolent chuckle.

“Come now, Jen - my bag was expensive, you know.”

----

As soon as the door closed, Syphe wriggled free of Tyne's tails, the pit in his stomach refusing to depart - though Tyne seemed happy, even amused, to let him go. Looking round at the gloriously white Ninetales in the couch beside him, his eyes roaming up to meet those stark, red irises, there was something that seemed … wrong.

That gripping sense of distant horror flared up, as Tyne lazily rose onto four paws - and padded beside him, sitting right next to him once more, several white tails falling down onto him, invading his space; making his skin crawl.

Angrily shaking and wriggling his body, he threw them off, before jumping to the carpet - and as he heard Tyne flump to the floor behind him, he turned around incredulously, just in time to see the Ninetales’ graceful tails swishing behind him with an almost laconic, rhythmic feel.

"The hell is wrong with you, creep? Get away from me." barked Syphe - refusing to acknowledge how close his voice had come to quivering. Trying to flick his tails with at least some dignity, he turned away; padding around the back of the coffee table in the middle of the living space.

Here at least, he couldn't see Tyne's ridiculous new body...

Why was his heart beating so fast? He berated himself inside, grinding his teeth against a fore-paw in agitation. Yeah, he'd always had a good sense for danger, and that was exactly what he was feeling right now. But Tyne was a freak, a weakling, even in a new body. What the hell was he doing acting so god damn nervous around something that didn't even deserve the lowest of emotions, pity?

Tyne's head popped out from over the coffee table, his paws trailing over the edge, dangling over it and hovering just above his golden-furred body.

Syphe growled, clawing at the Ninetales’ exposed paw-pad with a rough swipe.

"Fuck off, you little shit," he spat.

Tyne's paws recoiled, gripping the edge of the coffee-table, and Syphe smirked - he knew it. Even as a Ninetales, Tyne was no better than a ---

The coffee table lifted from the carpet. Syphe balked - three golden-white tails holding the heavy, ornamental furnishing above him; pure instinct making him roll out from underneath, just as it slammed down on top of where he had lain!

The crack was audible, and the coffee-table legs' splayed and split, shards of wood burying into walls and carpet; one whistling over Syphe's snout, the Vulpix's eyes wide--

He rolled to his paws, picking himself up - eyes wide, maw slack-

"What under Arceus, Tyne- the fuck-!"

Tyne lowered to his forepaws, as if to leap, and instinctively Syphe leapt to the side - jumping behind one of the two sofas, pushing himself between it and the wall. His breath was already ragged; this was insane-

his thoughts evaporated, destroyed by the power of instinct, as the sofa twitched. To his utter disbelief, Syphe watched as his only protection rose up - a foot, two feet - white-gold tips curling around the edges of the couch...

hanging in the air...

it flew to the side, slamming roughly into the fireplace; leather tearing, before flopping to the floor. Syphe blinked; and the folly of his instinct pulsed through him, matching his pumping heart.

Tyne's tails swished behind his body with a solemn grace; belying the power inside them. The room was trashed, devastated; and, as all the opportunities for escape passed through his head, he realised - Tyne held every single advantage.

If he ran for the kitchen, Tyne would leap towards him. If he ran for the door, it would be locked; the window of the room was behind Tyne... even the fireplace - normally, a comfortable place for a Vulpix - was now trashed.

And where he was now, with his back flush to the wall, there wasn't a single thing except air and space between him and the monstrosity that was the newly empowered Ninetales.

Tyne growled... and, panting, for the first time in his privileged, protected life, Syphe felt regret.

The air swirled, and two of the Ninetales' tails lanced towards him Syphe gripped the carpet - the fluff tore in his paws, as the tails wrapped around his belly, dragging him back - and, as suddenly as the carpet had started to graze against his softly furred belly, a strong, white-gold paw slammed down onto Syphe's back. He looked behind him - stunned and dazed, he was already trapped, as a rare, shining, pristine kitsune stood over him; seven curling tails floating behind him, swaying with a self-satisfaction that was echoed on Tyne's maw as he looked down on the golden Vulpix beneath him, twitching in pain.

In the destroyed room, there was no escape.

Syphe’s breathless body felt another yank- the two tails that furled around his belly gripping him once more, as Tyne stepped forward- a blaze of realisation hurling sickeningly through his mind as the Ninetales' hindpaws tucked against the inside of his own, pushing against them, as he found himself raised up, pressed against Tyne's own low chest - and a warm, furred bump nestled against his tails, the two monsters in a position he recognised only too strongly from his days in the breeder’s room.

“Arceus above -- T-Tyne!" yelled Syphe, "No-!!"

Syphe struggled furiously; feeling his thighs spread further and further apart by Tyne's own hind-legs as the Ninetales pushed against them; his forepaws stuck down to the floor, held by Tyne's own. In sick horror, he could literally feel the Ninetales' body sliding against his - soft belly fur grinding against his back... and, worse and more horrifyingly, something furred, thick and warm kept grinding against his tails.

Nauseous fear flared through him -- Tyne was sliding his sheath against his fur, literally pushing himself back and forth. Worse still, the feeling was getting stiffer...

Syphe could feel bile in his throat, his fore-legs shaking under the strain of the Ninetales' weight pushed against him.

"You're a fucking freak, Tyne! G- Get off!" he yelled, desperately trying to throw his weight from side to side - the evasive, fight or flight fear filling up his mind - this couldn't be happening! Not to him!

“Hey, Syphe,” suggested Tyne, above him. “Struggle more.”

The calm tone was ice in the air. Syphe could feel himself giving way; he clamped his eyes shut, feeling them watering. Not like this...

His fore-paws wobbled, adrenaline pumping through him -- but with no strength left, he collapsed forwards, his snout falling to rest on his paws. Tyne lurched onto him; the weight of Tyne’s chest keeping him held right down with an almost sadistic ease as Syphe felt his own forepaws released- Tyne’s paw-pads investigating his body, creeping through his fur - resting at his belly, sharply tucking his rump upwards.

“That's it, Syphe? You're done?", growled Tyne.

Syphe held back a choked sound-- fear had taken over. His strength was gone, and as Tyne's paws moved to his hips... he shivered.

A gasp of pain burst from Syphe’s weakened muzzle as Tyne shoved him to the side, hitting the ground painfully, defensively rolling to his back while he caught his breath on the carpet. He could see everything - the Ninetales' fierce posture, four paws to the floor- those sharp, red eyes glaring at his with a sheer, overwhelming temerity, the new strength of Tyne’s body...

Syphe stared. The muscles under Tyne’s fur were no longer weak. In this new form, a chilling aura of strength and power burst from him; that, and fury.

He felt sick. He felt fear. And as Tyne stepped over his weakened body, grinning in cold and silent laughter, staring down at his face, he felt horror.

Low down the Ninetales' body, hanging between his thighs, Tyne's swollen, white-gold sheath hung, split at the entrance by a slick-looking red tip that pulsed in line with the dragging, feral pants of the kitsune. With Tyne’s fore-paw tugging at the back of his neck, and the Ninetales’ hind legs straddling closer to surrounding his head, Syphe heard Tyne's slow, furiously vindicated laugh -

-and something sharp gripped at the back of his neck.

Tyne's claws dragged ominously through the scruff of his fur, before that strong, invasive paw gripped him tightly enough to silence the squeal that almost rang up through his body. Syphe shivered; feeling himself forced upwards, panting roughly in a fearful anticipation- this was impossible. Nobody - nobody - should be able to use him like this. It wasn't fair!

His field of view, his sense of smell, all of it was accosted by what hung right in front of him- Tyne's slick, vulpine shaft, swollen from the kitsune's sheath, throbbing sickeningly. Desperate to resist, but paralysed by the tough claws that raked against his neck, he clamped his muzzle tight - closing his eyes as Tyne pushed his weight against him...
Tyne's shaft rolled across his snout, bumping into his soft, sensitive nose - leaving a slick stain, before pulling back and rolling across his lips with another jab. The sensation made him shudder - even with his eyes closed, he could still see the intimidating size; he could feel the heat of it now, brushing against his flesh...

A low, devastatingly threatening growl rumbled through the chest of the creature above him, and without a shred of compassion Tyne's claws raked across the back of his neck, making him squeal in pain.

As soon as he'd made a sound, his eyes flashed open in fear- and Tyne's hips thrust forward, sliding that vulpine shaft pushed inside his maw, grinding against his tongue, stretching his lips open- - saccharine sweet and horrifying fluids mixed on Syphe's tongue, flooding him with revulsion; slipping backwards and forwards, it buried into his maw, jabbing at the back of this throat- and Tyne's paw pushed him further down the member, painfully thrusting the Ninetales' shaft inside his throat as his lips stretched around the swell at Tyne's base, before the paw dragged him backwards, coughing.

Tyne growled out, muffling Syphe’s dragging gags and splutters. Augh!

He gagged, sticky fluids coating his throat -- the sickening sense of violation inside him... this could not be happening- it had to stop--

As a breeder, he had seen Vulpix sexuality before. He'd been proud of his own shaft, and the girls he'd ploughed complimented him and feared him on equal terms.

But, Syphe realised, the Ninetales above him was different - fierce. Predatory. And - he realised - not just furious; vengeful, too. And as Syphe's eyes slowly stretched wide with fear, panting deeply to catch the breath that had been stolen from him, he realised - the shaft throbbing by his muzzle was easily twice as thick... twice as long... it was going to hurt.

The memory of the taste of that silken, vulpine tip lay heavily on his tongue, and his weakened coughs couldn’t shake the evil sense of violation away. Fear, feral fear, re-gripped his body; paralysed, frozen... only half-able to hear the vengeful laughs and mocking jibes of Tyne's new voice. He was panting, he realised; his sensitive nose was only millimetres away from the Ninetales glistening head, snout already smeared with the larger kitsune’s clear, saccharine pre...

He could hear the heavy breathing of his molester, rendering his speech slightly ragged, betraying his own pleasure despite the easy confidence of his tone-
“Oh-h... you know you liked that. Moltres, you’ve got a good tongue...”

Syphe felt sick.

“What’s the matter, you want more-?”, cooed the husky Ninetales; his voice heavy with lust, grinding with impassioned anger -- it made the tiny Vulpix tremor, a whimper escaping his lips, as the Ninetales prepared to molest his muzzle again; that heavy shaft hanging, twitching, leaking in front of his muzzle.

He clenched his eyes shut, but it wasn't doing any good. The resistance inside him crumbled; he felt pitiful, violated.

At last, a tear dripped from Syphe's watering eyes.

"No... Tyne, please...", whimpered the golden Vulpix.

“Please...?”

Tyne hesitated -- the claws of his paw retracting from their grip around Syphe's neck. Hope flared up - Syphe's eyes grew wide, his body already aching from the abuse. Was that it? He'd never touch the Ninetales again...

“You must really, really want it...", drawled Tyne.

Suddenly, the paw at the back of his neck gripped him once more, slamming him down into the carpet. He cried out; and, eyes sealed shut, grabbed roughly by the shoulders, he felt himself roughly rolled over, his face meeting the carpet.

Something tugged on his stomach; his hind legs were yanked upwards for him, jammed open before he could resist by Tyne's hinds and thighs. He struggled desperately with his fore-paws; before, once more, Tyne's paws slammed down onto them, sealing them unrepentantly in place.

Hyperventilating, he desperately looked behind him; seeing exactly what he could feel - Tyne's knot and shaft squarely grinding against his rump, rolling up and down, pushing against his tails.

"No -!", he squealed, tucking forwards - unable to move, there was nothing- nothing he could do!.

"Shut your mouth!"

Syphe yelled, shaking everything he could, every muscle he could stretch - as Tyne's length pushed between his rump, forcing at his entrance. It was too big- an impossible size! But his stretching ring and Tyne's force and determination were starting to win; pain tore through him-- no, no, no! -- and, suddenly, the resistance gave way; Tyne's length sunk inside, driving down into his belly; that rough, pre-slick tip and shaft grinding against the soft and slick walls in his own behind...

“Augh, Syphe, you...” growled the Ninetales above... lust coating every syllable, as ferality threatened to push Syphe's self-control to the brink; a liquid, searing fear and the sting of real pain coursing through his veins, bursting from his thighs, his paws, between and underneath his tails as Tyne's heavy thighs dragged forwards and backwards, pumping that incredible violation inside him; the sounds of his screams and the Ninetales' impassioned grunts mixing with the softly-starting slick sounds of fluids and fur...
Heat stuck, coating inside him - the same sticky feeling that, even now, seemed to burn in his throat; the vulpine's fluids coating his writhing rump, twitching tails; even threatening to fill up inside him -- every part of him abused for Tyne's sadistic pleasure, as the canine's pre splashed against the floor, soaking his rump and even the golden kitsune's own thighs- the mess was everywhere, and it felt like there wasn't even an inch of space more inside him to spare for it.

Again, and again, and again, Tyne's thighs slapped against his - the fiery pain of being pushed to the limit burning in his limbs, as if desperately struggling to cope with the accommodating the invasive flesh that ground into him, pushing deeper... he could feel the force pushing, probing, driving at the inside of his own navel, forced to make room for an impossible take!

Syphe collapsed forward, as Tyne pushed even harder, faster; the golden, miniature kitsune’s squeals turning into lower, deeper, weaker howls... forced down by the sheer weight of the vulpine above him, ploughing into his belly.

"God-- dammit-" grunted Tyne, in his new, powerful voice - frustrated in passion, the squeals and cries of the golden Vulpix beneath him falling on uninterested ears. Furious at Syphe's body's denial, he leant himself right over the tiny body of his fire-type bitch; his muzzle clamping against Syphe’s shoulder as Tyne raked his forepaws down the body of the Vulpix, grasping at his rump.

Thrust after thrust after brutal thrust wouldn't force his knot inside, no matter how slick it already was with the mixed fluids of their bodies; and with his bulge fully swollen, he was desperate to finally claim Syphe’s total submission. The digits of his paws squeezed against that golden rump- pulling those two cheeks apart; the thighs of his victim already spread dangerously far by his own hind-paws, wedged between them.

Growling, the sound rippling through the fur of his victim's shoulder, he drilled his hips forward again, forcing the Vulpix’s rump to stretch apart with his own paws -- as that knot resisted entry, the girth stretching Syphe’s tortured behind. The twin growls and yells of pain and fury hammered at the air in reverberating cycles as Tyne pulled his thick hips back yet one more time-- and, with pile-driving strength, he slammed himself home.

Syphe squealed desperately, tears cascading from clamped-shut eyes as that searing-hot shaft suddenly drilled even deeper into his body - he could feel the swell inside his own chest as his tortured body was forced to make room, the golden-white fur of his belly almost stretching for space; his tails writhed, and sheer pain broiled through his body in renewed, all-encompassing strength as the Ninetales' teeth broke his skin before finally letting go, that too-large knot plugging his sacrosanct behind beyond what felt like any natural limit.

Tyne howled-- keeling forward, with the Vulpix still tied to his shaft, flopping forward to press his weight even more harshly against his prey. He shifted his grip to Syphe’s hips, gripping him tight- whilst he started right up with his thrusts again, keeping him pinned to the floor whilst he unleashed an unimaginably quick and powerful set of thrusts that jackhammered the fire-type with the thin, final inch of his length, yanking the tiny vulpine down by his own hips with each minute push; using Syphe’s own clamping insides to grind against his throbbing knot buried into the Vulpix’s body - before he released an explosion of flame from his maw, singing paint from the ceiling of the room.

He broke over his edge, releasing pulse after pulse of searing, heated seed into the fire-type's depths.

The canine load flooded the inexperienced Vulpix’s insides in seconds, with pump after pump of his seed bursting from his swollen manhood deep inside his prey. For what seemed like an age, the clenching Vulpix milked his length - the pent-up kitsune’s seed unloaded into that abused, receptive rear. With staccato heartbeats and a furious, feral control, he slammed forwards a heavy buck of his hips in an erratic, lustful rhythm-- stuck high into his afterglow whilst he rode out the climax.

Syphe cried silently, tied and bred; abused, taken beyond his limit.

Tyne howled.


===========


Exeunt

The glass-walled lift rose serenely against the façade of the building, as the girls comfortably chattered between them, nearing the thirty-fourth floor.

"Can't believe you left that behind. It's such a nice purse.", chided Jenna, her giggling bouncing off the walls of the elevator.

Liz mock-pouted. "It’s a wallet, darling. It's leather. But let us never speak of it again, hm?"

"I bet you just wanted to see the waiter a second time..."

“Think what you like, dear. Goodness..."
Smoothly, the city finally stopped falling away beneath them, as the lift came gently to rest. A calm, recorded voice spoke from the ceiling; helpfully telling the two girls that the doors were opening, as they, indeed, opened.

"Can't believe it took us this long to get back, though."

"Well, darling; when lunch ends, we have to bump through every plebeian gathering in the city to end up anywhere at all. It's why I keep telling you to go earlier."

"Hey, don't blame me. It was you who wanted to see the waiter again.”

“You’re unstoppable...", sighed Liz.
The sun hung much lower in the sky- the unfortunate distance between the café district and home had showed itself, and the post-siesta popularity of Driftveil made it difficult to roam the streets. Liz had insisted on a taxi; at first to Jenna's chagrin, but then to her reluctant gratefulness -- even as long as it had taken them both to recover their bag, and as long as Jenna had allowed Liz to flirt disastrously with a clearly gay waiter, it might well have taken them longer to walk.

"You know, we have most definitely missed Jubilife..."

"Sacrifices, my dear, must be made in the name of fashion."

"... and waiters, it seems."

So, as it was, with tired feet, Jenna was happy to return home for the night. Jubilife TV, the most popular station across all of the linked Regions, and its gripping cast of celebrities, was beckoning. And furthermore, she couldn't bear to miss Syphe.

As pretty as Tyne was, even now as a Ninetales, she had always preferred her own Vulpix, in looks, in personality...


She pressed her key into the apartment door’s lock.