The two of you hike downstream for the better part of two hours, occasionally while you carry him.
He's pretty sturdy for a newborn!
Even so you round out the journey home with Maxia curled up atop your travel blanket beneath the flap of your pack, his head peeking up over your shoulder.
"There it is Max. Welcome to your new home."
Sunlight was just starting to wane. With reds and purples spanning the sky between dense trees to frame it all, your cozy little cabin looked almost like a painting sitting there by the mirror calm lake.
His replying chirpy squeak sounded pretty positive to you.
While he stretches his legs exploring a new space you settle into yours as a... pet owner? Parent? He's intelligent enough to speak, so you aren't quite sure what to consider yourself.
Ah well, questions for later.
Whatever he is to you, you'll appreciate the company.
Setting one of your metal mixing bowls and a spare tin plate on the floor works well enough for food and water. There are ample soft spaces for him to rest between your bear rug and stuffed chair. During the night you imagine he'll be better off joining you in your bed, given his young age, so no trouble there.
The most pressing issue really will be where he'll likely make his first "mess". That age old problem for every first few days indoors.
Another problem for another time. For now though you check your cold storage for more meat.
A more properly filling meal later, you and Max are out in the cool night air awaiting him to finish his business. It appears dragons are naturally clean housekeepers, he'd signaled his needs quite readily.
Perking up at the dark surroundings, he's sprinting off as quick as his little legs allow!
You call out and chase after him into some shrubbery filled with sharp barbs and thorns but you quickly lose him.
Wading through brambles, you call for Maxia for minutes until you pick up the sound of scuffling in the bushes just ahead.
You fight to get through, and when you do you find Max with an engorged neck and maw. The other side, a live fox flails to extract its head and front legs. As you watch he gulps further down its torso and presses its hind legs hard into the ground to keep it still.
You can hear the kekling whines from deep inside his chest even as he swallows more. "Max!"
He turns to you clumsily and raises his stuffed neck with pride flashing you the vixen's rear. Before you can protest he gulps again, and all that's left free is the tip of her bottlebrush tail.
With the full weight of an adult fox a whole quarter his length longer inside his cramped belly, you can see its outline between the deep red scales. He lazily snaps forward claiming the tail and flumps to his side in victory, rolling onto his back with his tongue flopped out as he pants for breath.
His juvenile cock slides free of his sheath and feminine folds slowly begin to glisten in the moonlight. Safe to say those thrashing bulges aren't hurting him.
You sigh loud and long while picking briars from your pant legs.
"Maxia what am I going to do with you... eating so much even after a full meal? You're unbelievable."
He looks up at you with joy in his eyes and a conspicuous throb from his shaft. Bending down and lifting the engorged beast isn't easy in these confined spaces but you manage to cradle him in your arms, belly and twitching girth hanging freely.
The trek back goes slightly faster seeing as you'd already cleared the way.
You're a little unsettled though. Every little squirm of the fox only serves to excite him more in your grasp. More concerningly, she doesn't seem to be running out of air in there very quickly...
You're back home, watching Samia carefully for any signs of distress.
Of course, there's only evidence of the pleasure.
The vixen doesn't get to share it, or peace. The ominous groaning of an active stomach kicked up on the way back. Around that same time, so did her fighting to get out.
It's been over an hour now.
He hasn't moved since finding a nice spot on the bear rug to sprawl out on his back. Unless you count working at his stomach with his four legs. He's been very active with that part.
The hours tick by. The poor thing survives. You're not willing to go to sleep until you know he's going to be alright. Or at least until you know the fox is dead.
All this time Max's panted and squirmed and rubbed deep into his belly to his heart's content, but finally he looses a hearty yawn. Then, he belches once, a long smelly release of pressure you couldn't believe had room to exist in there, the fox squirms its absolute hardest, and at last goes still.
He'd been keeping her alive on purpose.
Playing with his prey like a cat, but worse!
You consider scolding him, but as you open your mouth to start a loud dull *crack* sounds from his distended middle and it shrinks by inches. Then dozens of rapid pops as it narrows out around what was her chest and limbs as he compacted his stomach muscles in on the motionless creature.
The groaning stomach noises pick up again, and the flesh balloons out with acid finally obscuring the pitiful thing's corpse.
You feel like you should be furious. It was nothing less than torture.
But then... he was only following his instincts, as any animal does.
Give any feline the same bodily control and options and it'd do the exact same. Whatever drove him to act this way, it was clearly engrained into him.
Somewhere you worry what the future will hold when this master predator gets bigger. But, you tell yourself, he sees me as family. I can raise him better than that.
... we'll see who changes whom first.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
