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The dual sensations of her sensitive tail being kneaded and massaged by the clawed hands, while it was simultaneously pumped in and out of her lewdly stretched sex was almost too much for John. Each hair of her course fur rubbed every square inch of her vaginal walls. John's mouth lay open, her tongue lolling with each stroke, with each rub. For now, it overcame the shame and terror that was now pushed aside in her consciousness, even as she knew her own family was watching. She curled her tail in rhythm, trying to focus the friction on her sensitive spot, the heat and warmth of her pleasure building deep between her legs.
She could feel, see herself getting wetter and wetter, the fur of her tail now half matted in her juices, which dribbled down and soaked her crotch. With her new more sensitive sense of smell she could also smell her own heat, almost taste it. It was intoxicating. Everytime his, no her, mind thought for a moment about the horror of what was happening, the thought would be pushed away by the pleasurable rush of a squeeze of her tail, or the spreading of her sex, or the rubbing against her sensitive spot.
She breathed harder, panted, as the pumping continued at a dizzying pace, bringing her closer and closer to her forced climax.
Except part of her wanted it.
Fortunately the beast violating her spared her the indignity of keeping her on the edge like had been done with her brother. If she had to, she might have begged for it, even masturbated with her own tail. Instead, her arousal only seemed to encourage the thrusting. She was close. The pleasure built and built.
With a heavy thrust and a sharp digging of claws into the thickness of her tail, she was pushed over the edge. She closed her eyes, screamed an animalistic cry as her walls spasmed around the intrusion, sending a gush of juices between the tightness of her lips. A strand of it landed on her check, just missing her mouth. Her sex spasmed again, and again and again.
As her female orgasm finally slowed down she opened her eyes and watched as the tail was pulled out of her sex, completely soaked in her cum, some of it dripping onto her belly.
The afterglow of her orgasm began to wear off, as she stared at her soaked tail, mouth still open in a daze. That tail was hers. That sex was hers. Those juices were hers.
But before the reality of it all got a chance to sink in, the claws holding her tail moved quickly. Suddenly the tail was thrusting towards her face, the tip sliding over her tongue straight into her mouth and to the back of her throat.
She gagged and instinctively clamped her jaws shut around her own tail. But then the jaw biting the back of her neck tightened, making her loosen her bite. The tip of her tail tickled the back of her throat, making her cough, as she felt drops of fluid dripping back there. The taste of her own juices, now coating her tongue, hit her. It was slightly sweet, slightly sour, not much different than the taste of girls he'd had. He could only whimper and watch with wide horrified eyes as the hands holding his tail gripped the circumference of the tail, starting high, pushing down to collect and funnel all the juices matted within the fur directly into her mouth.
John's nose flared, breathing heavily trying not to choke on the volume of sticky fluid in her mouth. After a few rubbings of her tail, the claws finally released, allowing the tail to slip out of her mouth and flop down towards the ground with a wet thump.
She tried to spit, but the pressure on her nape kept her facial muscles weak. She could only cough weakly trying not to breath in the stuff, her tongue swimming in a mouthful of her own sweet juices. She could feel it dribbling down the back of her throat. Some of it dripped out the edges of her mouth, strands of it oozing down her chin. She looked ahead helpless and saw his family sitting there watching him. Shame filled her heart as she stared at her transformed family. The taste completely coated every tastebud, as she was held in this position for several moments.
Finally mercifully, the tightness behind her neck released. John curled forward and spit out the mixture of saliva and cum, sending the majority of the sticky glob of it back onto her own crotch. She coughed and spit, trying to get her own taste out of her mouth.
She coughed and coughed. Still the taste lingered. She opened her eyes and found herself curled up staring directly down at her own sex. The lips of her sex were slightly open showing the pink inside. It was completely wet and soaked in the juices she'd tried to spit out, a giant string of it still hanging from her muzzle as it dripped between her vaginal lips.
How could this be happening to her? This couldn't be real?
But she couldn't deny how real the pleasure was, how real the smell was, how real the taste.
Suddenly pain. Pain as claws grabbed the back of her head, pushing her forward, head towards the ground. She struggled to pushed back but to no avail, as her muzzle was forced into her own sex, her nose pushing directly between her lips. She screamed and squirmed. At least she could still struggle. Fortunately the witch, in an animal form, was at least unable to use her magic to give her verbal commands like she did with the others. She could still fight at least for now. She closed her eyes and shut her muzzle shut, trying not to think about the position she was in.
She was held this way for a couple minutes. But she refused to eat herself out like the witch clearly wanted her to.
A huff from the large otter behind her and she felt a paw reaching beneath her. It grabbed her tail, while the other paw kept her head pressed down. With dominating strength the paw grabbing her tail pulled back, pulling the entirety of her tail and lower body out from under her.
The pebbles crunched beneath her as her face was pushed into the ground, and her body was straightened out into a prone position. A heavy weight landed on her back, the loud huffing noise of the male intensifying in her ear. The hot breath again behind her neck. Both paws now pressed their weight onto her head, as the jaws clamped around the back of her neck. Once again her face was forced to relax. Weakly she tried to close her eyes and look away, but the superior strength of the hands on her head forced her head straight, and held her eyelids so that she saw straight ahead.
As she looked at the animals sitting directly in front of her she felt the heavy body above her shifting. The male's haunches moved about working its way to the side and around her hips. She felt the poke of something disturbingly warm and pointy poking under her left leg.
The male's penis searched for its target, as the male used a leg to push her tail to the other side. She felt the tip touch the underside of her tail, poking and prodding, making its way up. Finally if found its mark. There was a moment of hesitation. John felt the tip of the member just touching her abused outer lips. Hovering. She tried to squirm but was completely powerless under his weight and the oppression of the bite of the jaws. Still, it hovered. She could even feel the tip gyrating slightly against her sex with the male's own heartbeat.
Then, as if the male was finally satisfied with the suspense, the penis thrust forward. She screeched as the thick member spread her lips tight, pushing in with determination. It felt thick, thicker than how much of her own tail she was forced to take. And this time there was pain. Pain mixed with pleasure. She felt like she was going to tear from the tension, as the tip of the penis pushed against her cervix roughly. A rougher part of the organ rubbed against her g-spot, sending overwhelming feeling of pleasure to mix with the pain.
The male began to thrust with each of the breaths that blew into the back of her neck. A slow meticulous pace. If any faster she would likely have ripped apart. But the penis' penetration in and out was slow and gentle (if it could be called gentle) enough as to not cause physical harm.
Perhaps it was merciful that John had not ever studied river otter reproduction, and was not aware of how long just one round of copulation could last.
Minutes past. Several minutes. The humping continued at its patient pace, the thickness of the shaft inflicting maximal stimulation to every nerve in John's sex, both painful and pleasure. After several more minutes the pleasure took over and slowly built up with each thrust, reaching the point that John was once again panting and finding it difficult to think of anything other than the oncoming climax.
Ten more minutes.
Then another twenty. Twenty minutes at the edge of orgasm. But the slow pace wasn't enough to bring her over the edge. It was both torture as well as unachieved bliss. The shaft filling her moving slowly in and out. In and out.
In and out...
In and out.
The hot breath against the back of her neck.
The heavy panting in her ears. Mixed in with her own.
Her family watching. Sorrow in their intelligent eyes.
In and out. Slowly.
Everytime she thought she was about to reach climax, the feeling would subside. Only to build again.
Ten more minutes.
Fifteen more minutes.
In and out.
She felt a lurching behind her. Different from the near hour of consistent motion the male had made as he humped her. Slight hesitation.
Then a sudden sharp thrust. Then intense pressure. She felt her cervix give under the pressure, followed by a hot stream infiltrating deep into her.
The pressure was enough to send her over the edge. She screeched in a cat-like caterwaul, as her walls spasmed around his. The intensity of her orgasm was unlike any in her life, the pleasure of the release of her welled-up arousal exploding between her legs.
Several more gushes of hot fluid as the male came in her, her sex matching each gush with its own.
Then the teeth behind her neck released, the head behind her roaring in his release and triumph.
She felt a sudden rush of strength return to her body. And somehow a rush of will. Her body and half her mind completely overcome in orgasm, he other half, her human half, her male half, screamed NO!.
Despite their bodies still being locked in orgasm, John was able to force a command to her body to escape. Digging her claws in the ground, she used all her strength to push forward. The male was distracted enough in his own climax, roaring, with his legs held taught, that John was able to gain enough traction to push forward.
POP! The still ejaculating penis pulled out as the smaller female managed to pull herself free.
RUN! John told her body, ignoring both the pain pleasure of her still spasming vagina. She ran forward, out from underneath the male. She bumped into the white fluffy fox, making it yelp and fall to the ground.
Her fight or flight response kicked in, and she turned 180 and lept towards the river.
Her body splashed into the water. The cold sensation almost immediately extinguished the hotness between her legs. She kicked and kicked for dear life.
Downstream!, she told herself.
Swimming came naturally to her. She was captain of her swim team in high school after all. And her new body was obviously designed for swimming. She skimmed through the water like a torpedo, shooting down with the current as fast as she could. She didn't look back, only swimming to get away from the evil.
The feeling of gliding so effortlessly through the water was amazing. Exhilarating even. As she made her way further and further downstream her fear withered and relief set it. There was no way anyone could catch her.
She swam and swam, not thinking of slowing down. She only stopped to go to the surface for the occasional breath.
She must have swam for several miles downstream before she finally felt safe enough to look back. She surfaced in the middle of the river and looked back upstream.
The water glimmered in the moonlight, barely disturbed from her underwater swim. There was no sign of anything behind her, only the reflection of the moon in the water. The sound of crickets. The croaking of frogs.
I did it. I got away.
Overcome with a sense of confidence, John slipped back underneath the water. He was going to find help. He was going to save his family. And that bitch was going to pay.