Sent Down (Futa on Male, Furry, Humiliation)

Story by Lithier

This was an anonymous commission to address a burning need for large things to go into men's posteriors. There's only one part so far, and I actually released it a while ago, but there may well be more coming soon. I hope you all enjoy ~.~

"So he put your paw down his pants?" The stag gave a bemused sneer.

"No, no, just on his leg. It was sliding all the way down his thigh... not all THAT big, but it must've been around a foot." She smirked.

"Creep." A rather tipsy ferret took yet another drink from her color-filled glass. "Still... why come you get all the big ones? I haven't even had one that big in... months!" She pouted.

"Maybe if you could keep your makeup on..." She muttered, eyes darting away with a rueful little smile.

"What?" The ferret leaned closer, pitching her voice to a rather scratchy yell over the thump of the bass. The club was in full swing by now, and if they kept on like this, they'd scream themselves hoarse in short order.

"I think I see him!" She called back, and grabbed her bag. "Wish me luck!" The stag called something encouraging after her and gave a hearty laugh, but the ferret simply drowned her drink.

It was him, alright. In this crowd, he might as well have had a spotlight on him. Everyone knew everyone at Dragged Under, or close enough, and eyes gravitated to the new face. He, on the other hand, only knew a single person in the whole club, and was attempting to keep casual about looking for her.

Coyotes were generally considered a wretched lot, especially coyotes in college with a little too much money and free time on their paws. Sevens wasn't much of an exception. A messy mop of black hair fell over his head, half-hiding his eyes. Two slender rings, instead, caught the eye, glimmering in the flashes of glowsticks and roaming lights overhead to bring the casual gaze to his black, pierced lips, habitually spreading in a wild dog smirk. Off-white fur fluffed around his neck, cozying up against a pair of headphones slung on his shoulders. A clinging hoodie and jeans belied his slim build, not without muscle but falling short of athletic. One violet eye cast about under that wash of black until it finally locked on his target. Combing a paw through his hair to push it back, the coyote smiled slowly, stopping where he was. He'd let her come to him.

A dark skirt, black chased with purple patterns, swished from side to side with her steps, barely reaching halfway down her thighs. Milky neon swam across the folds from glowstick bands around her wrists and gently lit up her armwarmers, black and tied near the elbow with purple ribbon. Black spots swarmed across gold on her arms and down her legs, long and slender and bare. A deep, rich purple clung to her belly and her smooth chest, two gentle bumps barely distubing the low neckline of her tight little string-tied top. A little strand of silver fangs hung on a dark band, glittering on the white of her bare chest fur. Her eyes were shocking gold, framed by black too heavy to be eyeliner-- the natural black rimming a leopard's eyes, thick and spiking inward. Bars and studs weighed down her ears, catching the lights with her every movement. In one ear, a tiny, spherical bell gave a gentle, musical ring when she twitched it. Black hair dyed a luminescent purple hung in waves just barely touching to her shoulders, a loose tuft hanging across her face. Her little mouth was pushed forward in a pout, a single silver bud on her proferred lower lip. She was slim, her hips sloping out gently and her chest underdeveloped, but she wasn't too skinny. Well-nourished, just that her genes hadn't dealt her a very generous hand. Easy to carry off. She'd told him her name was Pandora.

"You're late."

His teeth bared in a smirk. "I'm worth the wait." Paws, dried blood black, closed around her hips, and their bodies pressed. His jeans bulged against her belly, low and close. His muzzle snaked down toward hers, lips seeking lips. She slipped past him to whisper in his ear.

"I'm thirsty."

He sighed. "And I brought so much to drink." He turned away, looking for the bar, his paw dragging across her belly, his touch lingering on her.

Taking drinks at the edge of the crowd, the two soaked in the music and the air of the crowd, thick with scents wild and varied and hungry. Pandora looked out over the floor, over the milling masses of her people. Sevens only looked at her. His hand was on her, coursing round her sides, down her back. Fingers slid over her rear, hooking to pull her to him, and she turned, slipping effortlessly from his grasp with a little smile. She finished her drink and nodded to the floor. He downed his drink in two large gulps and set down their glasses on the counter. She was almost gone in the crown when he turned back. The coyote let no crowd slow him-- those who didn't see him coming were moved.

The two drew together on the floor, under the pulsation of the music, bass beating

... more on the forums ...