The second the knot deflates and the vulpine pulls out, it’s already weak, and now slightly bruised and weighed upon, bladder gives in; making a puddle on the chips between its legs. The scent enough to make the vulpine do the same, although mostly soaking into the cat’s exposed fur as a mark.

The fox quickly skittering away once it starts to shakily stand back up to find its glasses and head home, taking a few minutes to adjust to the load snug in its womb and the ache from being used so roughly.

Every other step along the sidewalk home met with a slightly audible slosh and a shiver as cold wind blows under its skirt against the sore folds and piss-soaked fur. By the time it sneaks back into its home, the tiredness has set in proper; just flopping onto its bed and passing out.

It wakes up happy in the morning when it feels the bed is dry for once, but the high is quickly abated by the memories of last night’s use. Folds still sore and seemingly every drop of seed still holding fast inside.