Entwined, by AmethyStine - A Tawdry, Twisting Tale of Lustful Linking, for LightningClaw ~~~ ~~ ~ Xanders (c) LightningClaw / FenekkuKitsune Story, TFs and the TwinNaga (c) Amethystine WARNING: This story contains strange smut situations, mostly that of a CTF-based nature. The CTF is achieved non-traditionally via multiple connections instead of one. Also, cocksnake TF and general body manipulation / flesh-crafting. ~ ~~ ~~~ SEGMENT ONE: ~ Dreki was a cocksnake. And, Dreki was drooling. And so was his hostess, his owner. Drooling from her vulpine spade, which Dreki could feel so close, below his cockroot in her tight little blue-furred sheath, where his dark blue scales faded to her pink flesh. The ache for stimulation rippled through the reptilian rod and through that foxhole below, behind what Dreki thought of as his twin-stomachs, the cute little furry blue balls. Dreki might have curled down to nuzzle-rub his snout at those soft orbs, to stimulate himself and his mistress-hostess-partner-owner, who was named Xanders. He might have swooped down to scoop a ball into his mouth, to suck and drool and hiss and writhe, before stuffing himself into her clenching, aching snatch, but he was compelled to stand straight up against her trim tummy, proud and erect, and watch. He wobbled and watched how his moaning owner was surrounded by sensual serpents, so much bigger than Dreki himself. She, the kitsune who created him, was beyond turned on, and so too was stiff little Dreki, for he was an adjunct aspect of her, himself. He was a pure distillation of her desire, her id, her lust given form, a fabulously fun function, ferrying fluids from within. As such, he was drooling her precum, a voluminous volume of which spoke volumes as to the vixen's level of need. He both watched and faintly felt the fleeting and flirtatious caresses from the contiguous constrictors coiled around the female fennec-sune. What that drooling Dreki would not have given to be just as surrounded and stroked by studly serpents, such as this pair of naughty naga who had swept the 'sune off her paws, and into their deviant domain. And then, Dreki was within twice the tantalizing, tantric twisting tightness of a tawdry tangle, too. ~~~ ~~ ~ Thirty minutes prior, Dreki didn't exist. Oh, don't worry, he was around, somewhere, metaphysically speaking. He just wasn't extant in that moment. No, in Xanders' tight little sheath was a pulsing, pink, more-or-less-mundane vulpine shaft, which would have a knot and throbbing veins, soon enough, if the vixen found what she was looking for. Of course, how mundane can a shaft be when it belongs to a vixen? Or when that vixen is a pleasing purple-blue hue, and a nine-tailed fennec-kitsune, capable of shapeshifting into all manner of marvellous forms? Nearby, her nethers of the feminine form were at rest, but there was an itch. An occasional twitch. Xanders was on the trail of intriguing prey, in a land of lustful temptations, galore. The bundle of butt-borne bottle-brush fluff, her nonet of naughty tails, they too twitched and itched to wrap around something, to snake their white-tipped luxuriousness around a suitable lad or lass who might plunder that purplish ass good and hard. My point is that Xanders' many parts were all in tune, and that song they all sang as one, was that they wanted to get fucked, properly. Her chest tingled, wanting wilful touches to traipse across their sizable swells - her nipples wanted kisses, licks, suckles. She wanted to be ravaged by a barbarian in some ways and treated like a princess in others, worshipped and whore-whipped in equal measure, such was the duality of her desperate desire. Why so wanton, though? The question must be posed. ~ Well, in Xanders' explorations of sensual hot-spots across all of the multitude of creations she heard about (with those big ears that currently yearned to be softly stroked by tender touches), she had landed at an event that had piqued her interest to such an extent, she had to come, straight away. (To then, hopefully, be made to cum, straight away.) Typically, points of interest got added to a list in the back of her mind as 'something to see sometime.' But not so, this one. This one was front and centre. The idea of a convention purely for the love of fusion.. she had dropped her plans and had marched across the realms to see such a thing. To see it, and to experience it, first-hand. And first-other-bodyparts, she hoped. She had learned there were many such events, but the one she flounced into was 'CF' or 'ConFusion' - as it had sounded like it was the progenitor, the original of all such events, with a name that was so pared down, so simple, so pure. It wasn't the original, but she didn't care, as she had stared at the intriguing blendings of bodies all around her. Every linked and synced pairing or trio or quartet was a mental tease, to imagine the fun of sharing so much with another. Being on the show floor was a further tease, as everything she saw was rather tame, while she had expected more sensual sights. She had almost arrived in the nude, but had realized clothing was - in fact - required. At least until some level of privacy could be achieved. In reality, the unabashed kitsune remained in the nude, and conjured a mere illusion of clothing. In the summer heat, it seemed as though short-shorts and a bikini bottom worn underneath it, and merely a bikini top 'protecting her (non-existent) modesty' above would be suitable, to make her seem normal to the people around her, while also demonstrating her relative level of promiscuity. Her body was almost as shown off by her illusory outfit as it had been by just her fur, given how short those phantom shorts were. Xanders had padded through the show floors, silently and happily witnessing the abundance of amalgamated anatomies of attractive anthros, and had wandered her way into the hotel restaurant-bar, looking for casual, unofficial information. As it turned out, the tame nature of the convention was just as illusory as her outfit, as she quickly learned that the real deal was what went on up in the hotel rooms, and in private parties - even in rooftop pools with limited access. Therein was a miniature world of more erotic enmeshings of form. She was told as much by a lovely fox-girl she struck up a conversation with, soon after arriving in the restaurant. The other vulpine was more voluptuous, and had been sitting alone in a booth, sipping something that smelled as sweet as it did alcohol-laced. There was an instant kinship between the fox and the fennec, the sisterhood of similar species and seemingly matching genders - Xanders hadn't let on about her extra equipment. The things that slightly taller vixen had relayed to Xanders had made the kitsune grin and had furthered her fascination, which was twisting into need, her interest intensifying steadily, after it had already bloomed to see rooms so vast, with people stuck fast, to one another. And so, she was on the hunt now, having heard about the eye-widening and pulse-quickening possibilities. She had known about the simplest of sensual fusions from before she arrived, from hearing about these 'fuse cons' out in her wider world, but the specificity of what her new fox friend had told her, had made Xanders excuse herself hastily (claiming she forgot she had to meet someone, very soon), and leap up from the booth table and head upstairs in an elevator, into the den of delights that was the sea of suites. Meet someone, indeed. Even if it was for the first time, that was technically still meeting them. Meat someone, more like it. In her heart of hearts, in her deepest fantasy, Xanders wanted the naga. The naga she had heard about from the fox-girl. The naga that had popped up on crotches at all the plethora of parties the rather frisky fox-femme had managed to worm her way into, over her years of going to various fuse-cons. This cock-naga was a well known entity, and being such an admirer of serpentine male anatomy, Xanders had to admit she wanted him to grace her sheath with his presence, and heighten her pleasure, while she was rammed by -- she bit her lip, pondering a powerful ram ravaging her from behind while the massive serpent sprawled and slithered before her, snout pouring with pre, then cum - but, uh.. she imagined she would be taken from behind, by whoever the clearly subby snake-shaft had been hosted by, previously. She wanted to come between the naga and whoever his current owner was. Cum between them, in fact. She wanted them to be bemused by her self-insertion and be playfully 'upset' at her flirtatious vixen-spun vexations, as she charmed the snake out of one body and into her own. She wanted the original host, some huge male, to swear he would retrieve what had been stolen, and then-some, exacting some sort of rapturous revenge upon the interloper. Xanders visualized the males trying to reconnect, perhaps even placing her into the midst of their phallic fusion, as if she might become some kind of intensely swollen knot of blue flesh at the base of the pythonic pole named Amethystine. Amethystine. It was a lovely name. Of course, she didn't really imagine she would find him, meet him, let alone ~meat~ him. That was just a flight of fancy that flashed through her mind as she rode the elevator up into the core of the hotel, as she would take whatever she could get, her body aching for attention from anyone who wasn't her own hands, her own nose, her own tongue, her own snake, her own cadre of clustered, white-capped, waving tails. ~