A brood fox bonded to his alien mate is sent on a quest to appease his master. But in the process, he uncovers some memories of what -- and who -- he once was.

This story was commissioned by  Franco731, thank you once again for your patronage!

If you're interested in receiving something similar for your character(s), you can find my commission info here:
https://www.furaffinity.net/journal/10987511/

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To the fox, there was nothing but the tentacles. Wet, slippery tentacles that grazed and danced. Firm, muscular tentacles that held him in place. Smaller limbs that probed and felt him. Larger limbs that forced his body just where they wanted. And, of course, the ones lodged into his holes up to their knots.

He might not have even known he had a body if he couldn't feel them ravishing it. His full, sagging breasts being pulled and squeezed, as if to be milked. His plush thighs gripped with monstrous might. His full ass penetrated, over and over and over, hole permanently stretched for easiest entry. For a brief moment, he could have sworn there was something between his legs, but those thoughts were immediately driven away by tentacles flourishing into both his throat and anus.

Despite their daunting girth, they pried him open and pushed into him, forcing down as much of their length as possible. The fox had no choice but to whimper with each twitch and thrust into his ass, sensitive enough to feel every little movement. What would be moans were stifled by the other length stretching into his maw and pushing back into his throat. Any cry was immediately quelled at its source, leaving only useless mutters to add to the writhing cacophony. And those vocal vibrations seemed to do naught but spurn those probes on further.

It was beyond simple pleasure; the fox's mind was wholly content. He sought nothing else, needed nothing else than this experience at this moment. He needed to be filled. Fucked. Used. Bred. In fact, as far as he was concerned, it was exactly what he was made for. Any past or future meant nothing to him; all that mattered was his present. And that present was full of bliss he was both pacified by and desired so much more of.

The world around him was completely dark. All was pitch black, with only hints of shapes visible in the extremely low light. But that was fine; there was nothing he needed to see. He didn't need sight to be a good breeding bitch. All he needed was to relax, and let those tentacles keep pushing their knots against his eager hole. His master’s powerful, perfect tentacles, that treated him just as a brood bitch should be treated.

His nose was full of the scent of his own musk, and what must be the smell of his master using him. The latter was overpowering, its vastness suppressing any of his other desires. He could almost smell the tentacle's fixation on having their way with him, thrusting into him until every nook and cranny of his vessel was occupied and used. From maw to ass, no hole would go unpenetrated.

His ears heard only the ravenous work of those griping limbs as they squeaked and squelched all around him. Nothing except that rapid back and forth, in and out, clenching and releasing and…

Something else. Something infinitely small, and so far away. But it was there, and as much as he had no interest in it, he could hear it.

He didn’t need to worry about it. The tentacles were taking care of him. His master was taking care of him. They were using him as he ought to be used, giving him all he needed. The budding curiosity for that thing was quickly aborted by what little of a mind the fox had left. He instead focused on the things that really mattered. All of those probes pulling him this way and that, swarming all over him…

Finally, that moment he'd been awaiting was at hand. As if driven into a frenzy, those monstrous limbs dragged him back and forth before pushing the fox down onto something hard. The two pushing into him from both sides surged forward, as if trying to meet one another at his core. He felt his belly and throat bulge, barely unable to contain his pleasure. The only thing holding the tentacles back from ruining his internals were their knots, which mashed against him in desperation. They were massive, swelling larger and larger with each passing moment, and certainly much too large to fit even in his gaping holes.

But then again, they'd been trained. He had been trained by night after night after night of thrusts and breeding. He was nothing except a toy for whatever master grasped him anyways. And it was time that it finally push inside him, hilted, and released-

But such a release did not come. Instead, the tentacles within him withdrew. They slowly slinked out of the fox, leaving him feeling empty in ways he couldn't even begin to explain. Those that gripped his body hoisted him, before putting him onto his paws... paws he had forgotten existed until just then.

As he struggled to remember how to walk, a realization came to him. It was in the air and it was in the lingering taste on his tongue and it was in every caress of the tentacles. But it was not in his ears... for there lay the source of the problem.

Whatever that sound was, it was driving his master mad. And he was to put a stop to it.

The fox staggered forward, slipping almost immediately on the slickness beneath his paws. He struggled to get upright again; apparently he'd stumbled forward enough for a bit of light to reach him, but it was still near impossible to see. He pushed himself to his paws within time, though. He had to stop that sound. He had to.

***

Going more slowly, the fox crawled over soft, almost spongey stone, broken up by coarse sand. Eventually, enough light shone through that he recalled his environment: a cave. Purple rock with wide holes were all around him, until he followed the light to the entrance.

His hands instinctively raised to his eyes as he reached the edge of the cavern. He could barely make out a horizon in the distance, and a murky but relatively bright sky. The only thing between him and the skyline were more caves and more sand. He didn't want to explore that desolation for the cause of the sound. The cave was so wonderfully dark, so warm, and most importantly, it was his master's home. That meant it was his home now.

But his master needed him to investigate that sound. And the sooner he did, the sooner they could finish what they started.

The fox bravely sojourned on, stepping out into the not-so-bright light of whatever time it was. His first instinct, besides immediately running back inside, was to hiss in the direction of a sun obscured by a thick layer of atmospheric clouds. Empty, pointless winds stirred his fur and carried the sand from around his pawsteps.

With no better guide, he followed his ears, skulking towards that high pitched whine that only got more and more annoying with time. The more he was forced to listen to it, the more the fox resented it. Whatever it was, it probably didn't mean anything. It was just an annoyance, a distraction, a thing keeping him from where he should be. Another moment away from his master, and he'd just turn around and-

But then his paw hit something. Something other than the sand, solid enough to put his weight upon.

The fox almost stumbled again, this time barely recovering by pushing off of the shape. As he laid his hands on it, the sand that had been covering it began to fall away, and it revealed a figure.

Light brown fur, green eyes, and soft features. Breasts that were obscenely large, almost enough to cover his face. An expression of irritation, and then surprise. And eventually, the recognition that this was his reflection, as the fox stepped back.

He walked forward again, dusting the dark glass and revealing more and more of this relic. Eventually, his paws came upon white, sleek metal. Hidden on the hull was a button, which he pressed in without realizing it. Immediately, the glass slid upwards, revealing what the reflection had hidden: a spaceship cockpit.

There were various lights and sounds that rose from it, but the fox was only occupied with one. That siren was louder than ever, giving him stirrings of a headache, and it came from the radio in the center console. He didn't know how he knew what it was, but he did. He was just his master's breeding bitch. When had it taught him about spacecraft?

The fox stepped inside, careful not to hit anything, and bent down to press a glowing button. As soon as he did, the sound stopped. And then, a moment later, a voice played.

"Contact, this is Falco Lombardi of Team Star Fox. Currently orbiting the planet Einsnarr, the last known location of Fox McCloud."

…Fox McCloud?

That name was like a shock to the fox's system. Slowly, fuzzily, he felt something come to him. Bits and pieces, names, faces, emotions. Things buried so low, he'd forgotten he even forgot. And one memory in particular came back to him almost vividly.

***

"Contact! This is Fox McCloud, come in Great Fox!"

The pilot sucked his teeth as he attempted to move his Arwing. The ship sputtered and shook, and the electronics ran, but it didn't budge from the heavy sands it had crashed into. In fact, it only seemed to sink further in, which immediately made him ease up from the gas. Fox groaned before finally shutting off the machine, deciding to try and save on fuel. He pressed the distress beacon on his console before popping the cockpit open.

Fox crawled out, slowly circling his ship to assess for damages. He hadn't been planning on a trip to Einsnarr – as far as he knew, nobody did. The planet's extreme gravitational pull and strange electromagnetic frequencies caught many a pilot unawares, as if it were trying to capture anyone who passed too close. Apparently Fox was just its latest victim. And of course his Arwing just had to get buried too deep into the sand for him to get it unstuck.

Once he was finally able to admit that, his next step was to think of a plan. The Great Fox was nearby; reasonably he should be rescued within a few hours once the others found a way to safely get down to him. He had enough food and water in his emergency stash for a few days if he absolutely needed it. All he had to do was stay put and wait for help to arrive.

It was a miracle Einsnarr's atmosphere was breathable, and the planet seemed pretty barren; just caves and sand dunes. He was in no immediate danger. It was almost boring, considering his history as a mercenary. Fox tried his best to sit tight for a few minutes, trying to get his radio to work right, despite the planet’s strange interference. After that failed, he gave it another short while, before eventually coming to a decision.

There seemingly wasn't anything around endangering him, and he had a few hours to kill before backup arrived. Fox hopped out of the Arwing again, turning up the radio volume to its maximum to make sure he'd hear it if someone got in contact, and closed the hatch. And after only a bit of deliberation, he picked a random cavern to walk towards. At best, he’d find something – or someone – who could help. And at worst, he’d be marginally less bored than he was at the moment.

Fox ended up at one of the closest caves, and one that was reasonably level with the ground. A good few of them seemed like straight drops down, but this one sloped gently. At the mouth of the cave, Fox instinctively ran a hand across his laser pistol and called out. "Hello? Anyone home?"

When he got no response except his own echo, he decided to press on. Fox took careful steps into the maw of the cavern, activating a flashlight on his belt to help him navigate. The space grew more and more cramped as he went along, and other than some mundane-seeming rocks, there was little of note. The floor of the cave seemed to have some sort of liquid on it, one that hugged the underside of his boots every few steps, but that was the only attraction.

Fox spent a good few minutes wandering around inside the cave, looking for anything of interest. He had to admit, there were a few quirky rock formations. It almost looked as if someone had drilled holes into them. But he spent most of his time alone in that darkness looking forward to being back on the Great Fox. Maybe they could figure out what it was about this planet that kept so many of the people who crashed…

All of a sudden, Fox felt something drip onto his head. He immediately looked up, but saw no source. Nothing but black, the ceiling likely far above. A moment later, though, another drop of liquid fell on him. This time as he looked up, he brought his flashlight up with him. Even still, nothing but darkness. The cave must have been really tall.

Although... was it really that tall? Not from what he remembered…

With a shake of his head, Fox turned back around. Being enclosed by darkness for so long was probably messing with him. He needed some fresh air, and it's not like he'd found anything of value anyways.

Fox began putting one boot in front of the other... until his front paw slipped on the liquid underneath. He tried to balance himself, but couldn't quite stabilize, falling to the ground. He held out his arms and braced for a hard fall, but as he touched the ground, he didn't feel stone. His hands sunk gently into the darkness.

That same soft, viscous darkness slid beneath his boots. It snaked up them, coiling around his pants and simultaneously up his front paws. Whatever it was, it moved rapidly, almost feverishly.

"Hold on, what-" he called out, trying to pull himself out of the hold. But this entity was strong, keeping him down without much room for resistance. Fox's eyes snapped around him, though there was nothing but shadows. Wriggling shadows, now that he paid attention to them. Slippery, shifting shadows. All around him.

Fox tried again, uselessly, to pull himself free. He had a few tools that might get him out of such a bind, but with his hands stuck, he wasn't going to be able to use them. All he had left was his voice, and if those sensations along his midriff were any indication, he wouldn't have that for long.

"Who are you!? What are you!? What's happening to me!?" he called out, but the only response he got was even more fervor from his captor. It felt like the cave itself had come alive, every blot of black around him being another potential threat. Before long, he felt that slick wetness on the bottom of his muzzle. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, it occurred to him he might not make it out of this.

With one final, desperate plea, he yelled. "Someone, anyone, please, sa-"

And then, that tenebrous tendril forced its way inside his maw.

A new taste he could barely describe ran across his tongue, ushered on by a slick thickness. It pushed to the back of his maw, stopping just short of reaching his throat. The length rested there for a moment... and then it pulled back out, just as rapidly and deftly as it had first entered. It pushed forward again, this time even wetter than the first somehow. The flavor of it grew even stronger and more concentrated with each motion.

On and on it rushed, using Fox's mouth with wild abandon. Were he not in shock, he might have wondered how such a large limb even fit inside him. What he could only conclude was a tentacle probed deep, sparing no part of his maw. From what little Fox could decipher, there was some substance leaking from it at the tip. It was almost creamy in texture, and a more pungent version of that strange taste he'd been exposed to. That wiggling limb painted him with it from the inside, leaking out more, especially whenever it tapped the back of his throat. He choked on the girth of it, apparently earning him more and more of its output.

And then, things began to dull. Fox barely noticed it at first, with the darkness of the environment around him, but his eyes were growing heavier. Eventually, he couldn't even muster the energy to try and see what was happening, and his eyelids shut. His limbs began to lose feeling, except for the tightness of those other limbs grasping him. They stayed clear in his mind, and in fact it felt like they intensified. He could feel each and every movement, wiggle, and slide against him, no matter how minute.

His sense of smell was next affected; all the strange smells around him seemed to disappear slowly. Then his ears began to tune out everything other than the sounds of him being restrained and stuffed. The actual thrust of the tentacle wasn't very painful, but any spikes or tinges of hurt melted away into nothingness. It was as if someone had taken a 'reality' dial and turned it far, far lower.

The only setting left the same was taste. And in that regard, it was stronger than ever. Whatever it was, Fox was beginning to love it. It morphed into an odd mix of sweet and earthly, with quieter, sour notes that perfectly complemented the main body. All delivered through a soft, rich fluid that he felt beginning to drip out of his mouth. He still wasn't exactly sure what this was, but he was thankful to get to try it.

And when he thought about it, he was thankful to the tentacle continuing to push it down his gullet, slower now. Previously frenzied thrusts turned down to soft, almost loving pistons. Fox didn't realize it until it wasn't so rough, but he had actually enjoyed the sensation. Being grabbed, suspended, and used like that…

Why was this turning him on?

Before he could process it, that slimy limb withdrew from his mouth. The others swarming around him gently brought him down to the floor of the cave, still holding him in their grip. A heaviness weighed on him, not from any of the tentacles, but from his belly. It bloated lightly, as if he’d been fed a full meal, and he had the feeling of intense satisfaction to match that. All around him was darkness, but no longer an uncertain and frightening darkness. It was a darkness he knew he could find pleasure in. A darkness that he loved.

A darkness that he needed more of. And it seemed to agree, as it began to tug at his clothes as a new tentacle wormed its way into his maw.

***

When that had first happened, Fox remembered he had been mortified. He thought he was going to die. But looking back on it, the memory gave him nothing but joy. Every part of him glowed with pride; after all, his master had a use for every part of him. Everything from his needy ass to his increasingly-drooly maw ached as they recalled what he was missing at the moment…

"Krystal!" A sharp voice brought him out of that reverie and back to his current situation. That voice – Falco, he said his name was – was still insistent on being a headache.

"Krystal, are you getting anything?" After a moment, a distinctly feminine voice chimed in.

“No signs of his Arwing yet. I think the clouds around the planet are too thick to pick up a signal.” After a moment, she sighed. “We’ve been searching for months, Falco. We’re running low on supplies, and Pepper has that mission for us, and… I think we might just have to… let go.”

“We can’t let go yet! We know he’s down there… and what about what Slippy said? Something about monsters down there that can mind control people? What if one of those has him!"

A pang of fright rose in the back of Fox's mind, but he didn't consciously recognize it. For whatever reason, that revelation didn't really shake him.

“Then I really don’t think we’re getting him back,” Krystal replied glumly. "Remember, he said they were made out of tentacles, and they use your... fluids as food. They can even change your body too. He… might not be our Fox anymore.”

The only emotion Fox felt at this was... indignance. The more he realized what this conversation was implying, the more upset he grew. What were they trying to say about his master!? That there was something wrong with the way it treated him?

Falco grumbled something before coming in closer to the microphone. "Fox, if you’re there... hope you're okay, man. Please, respond."

At that, the radio hissed out, but stood by, ready for transmission. Fox sat in the ruined cabin seat for a minute, trying to process all that'd been said. His mind fought back and forth, old memories re-emerging and reminding him of what once was. But newer memories came to him as well. Ones that were much harder to ignore.

***

At some point during that first encounter, Fox had passed out, slipping just over the veil of consciousness for a few moments before dipping back down under. Some part of him recognized that he was being moved, somewhere that was an even deeper dark than where those tentacles had first trapped him. He was almost completely disrobed, at least in any areas that might prevent free access to his body. Despite having his throat ravaged, it wasn’t raw at all. In fact, it almost felt empty after having it filled for so long.

But what finally brought him to full consciousness wasn’t anything relating to that already-used orifice. It was a sudden, striking, and mind-melding thrust into him from below. A tentacle pushed so strongly and fiercely into him, it forced his muscles all over to clench. Sleepy eyes fluttered open, widening to try and catch any sign of the monster he knew to be having its way with him, but there was nothing to see.

Nor was there anything to hear, smell, or feel, other than the very thing manhandling him. And in all ways, the fox’s being reverberated with pleasure. It radiated from his ass through the rest of him, as if his prostate was singing. His fists tightened and legs tensed, pushing uselessly against the massive, strong, slimy limbs that kept him captured. He exhaled a raspy breath, drawing in just enough of that sex-scented air to scream out a moan that echoed off the cavern walls. His sphincter tightened against that tentacle that broadcast ecstasy through his very being, begging it for more.

And then, the tentacle withdrew. It was only then that the fox – that Fox McCloud, he remembered himself specifically to be – realized that the cause of such dominating lust was the fervent vibration of that tentacle in his most sensitive spot. He could discern as such with it fully outside him and vibrating against his bare ass, teasing at the blessing it’d already bestowed upon him.

Once Fox had a moment to catch his breath and remember all that had transpired, he immediately set to analyzing his situation. He was in an unfamiliar location, being detained by an unidentified alien, and any means of communication or tools were out of his reach. If he were to get out of this, he’d need to rely on his own capabilities and strategy. Fortunately, he hadn’t gotten this far without a sharp, capable mind…

Which was immediately compromised as the tentacle wormed into his anus for a second time.

All thoughts of escape dispersed. All thoughts of anything really where instantly nixed the second that limb forced its way inside him again. Something about the way it slid inside him with no friction or hesitation was absolutely incredible. He didn’t have the words for how it so perfectly and deeply pushed, stimulating him from the inside out. So instead of speaking, he simply yelled out his amorous screams once more.

Somehow, the tentacle both molded the fox’s body, and was molded by it. Every twitch and squeeze he made, it responded in turn. Its girth was enough to fill every bit of his sensitive tunnel, and yet it molded on-demand to stimulate him as best he could. As his rational thinking dulled, it almost became believable that such an infallible probe was made just for him. Or, even more euphoric somehow, he was made to be probed.

This time as it pulled out of him, the fox wasn’t concerned about using what time he had to think. He was concerned about it thrusting into him again. And again, and again, thoughts occupied exclusively by just how good it felt to be used. As if it could read his mind, that tentacle slammed into him once more, rhythmically now. It filled him, it vibrated to massage passion into his vessel, and it retracted, just to do it all again.

The fox didn’t keep track of how many times the monster repeated its depraved pistoning, nor how long he spent having his ass repurposed as its bespoke hole. He didn’t even notice his cheeks beginning to shudder and quake, rippling in ways and with mass he’d never felt before. And he wasn’t especially keen to the fact that his tight pucker was suddenly stretched enough to accommodate the tentacle’s massive knot. He simply took it, like a good breeding bitch. And he felt himself come undone on that length that pierced to his very core.

***

"Unbelievable! I thought you cared about him!”

Again, that insistant voice shrieked from his transmitter.

"I do, Falco! I do care! But Fox… he wouldn’t want this. We’re starving ourselves looking for him, and we don’t even know if he’s alive down there.” Krystal’s voice was no less passionate, but just a bit softer on the ears.

It took Fox a moment to realize what had happened: his lustful daydreaming had apparently been quite active. The seat beneath him was drenched with anal lubricant, and his entire body was splayed out. That apparently included a paw leaning on the receiver button again.

And that would explain why he could hear both of them. He sat in silence as they continued to speak, feeling just a bit odd about being talked around like this.

“If you all want to leave, then fine! I’ll go down there and find him myself!”

“You know that won’t end well. Just… if you want to come back and search, fine. But we can’t keep going like this.”

After a moment, Krystal spoke again, quietly.

“...I’m sorry.”

For the briefest moment, Fox considered speaking up. He still somehow remembered how to work the radio, and if he was receiving their transmission, he could probably connect with them. Whoever they were, they were obviously worried about him.

But then his mind conjured up yet another memory, and dragged him down into that moment’s depravity yet again.

***

Fox didn't know how long it'd been. It was hard to keep track of time when all you'd been since you could remember was an alien’s toy. Sometimes he tried to reach back further, and recall how he got here in the first place. In the most fleeting moments, he even recalled names and faces. But then, almost as if it could read his mind, the creature's tentacles found their way back inside him. His ass or mouth (usually both) were drilled and filled with that delicious, soft fluid, and all those thoughts went away. And every time, his body felt just a little... different.

At first it was his chest. After the first few times of being used like a fleshlight by this thing, his nipples began to tingle. That tingle spread all across his midsection, and eventually, small lumps began to form. Very small, but very sensitive lumps. Every time a stray tentacle ran across one, or the wind blew into the cavern and against his chest, it drove him wild.

His entire life, Fox had been flat chested. And he'd never had any issues or problems with that before now. But there was something about feeling his bosom grow and grow that made him feel so happy. It was contentment on an axis he'd never even considered before. They were just so perky and cute and they felt so good whenever the alien's tentacles played with them…

His chest wasn't the only part of him that was changing. His entire physiology seemed to be shifting in ways he would have never expected. His very spine felt like it was changing, growing somehow. Was that an effect of the planet's unique gravity, or something else? His midsection began thinning out, while new muscle seemed to form to perfectly support the new weight topside. All this, when all he'd been fed were the creature's secretions.

Next was his butt, which saw the most growth. He'd always had a respectable rear, but now it had ballooned to what felt like almost impossible proportions. He could feel the change in the way that the tentacles had begun to grip him. They quickly found an appreciation for groping the new fat, circling and exploring his moons. Of course, an ass like that would need thighs to match, and Fox developed those too. He could feel them bulging out, enough to rip whatever scraps of pants the alien hadn't already removed. It was a good thing his hips grew out as well to tie it all together.

His stomach was more often swollen with the alien’s secretions than not. At all times, Fox felt that heavenly pressure from the inside. What had to be gallons of the tentacle’s nectar, keeping him fed and happy at all times. If he didn’t know any better, he might have mistaken himself for pregnant. Maybe if he was lucky, he really would be soon.

Seemingly, the only part of him that had shrunk was his penis. What had once been a respectable length seemed to regress further and further, until it was almost too small for him to remember it was there. Half the time he didn't remember it; the alien didn't seem interested in it at all, instead preferring every other part of him to indulge in. His testicles had likewise shrunken too; as far as Fox was concerned, his main sex was his tailhole.

And it certainly got used like it. Somewhere along the way, Fox's ass had started self-lubricating, which was only obvious when those wriggling probes started thrusting into his anus more easily than usual. Once that was consistent, it was like the creature became a different beast entirely. It had been... more gentle than it could have been with him in general. But that was beginning to change.

Now, every so often, those powerful, deft tentacles would wrap around Fox, from his buxom breasts to his plentiful ass. They would hoist him up into the air, where he was most vulnerable. A few would wrap around his asscheeks, forcing them to spread. Knots would expand out from their ends. And then they would rut.

The tentacles took turns, fucking as deep as they could into Fox. He felt it touch and shape him in organs he wasn’t even aware of, as if his entire body was one long pleasure tunnel. The alien would go on for what he could only imagine were hours, letting what must have been each and every tentacle fill him. They were all slightly different despite being, he assumed, the same creature. It was hard to really tell while he was getting his ass pounded and gaped over and over.

The entity didn't seem to care much for his own pleasure. It used him with wild abandon, allowing no time for reprieve or breaks. And yet, there was no pain. Those tentacles slid into him with absolutely no issue, and they felt heavenly. They almost perfectly stimulated his prostate, which itself had grown so sensitive recently. Every little push and pump elicited something from Fox, be it a moan or leaking drops of cum.

There formed a cycle of sorts, with each probe going and going until reaching some sort of climax. After one final furious sprint, it would finally manage to get its knot in, which drove Fox wild. And once it was in as deep as possible, it would release what he could only assume was its seed. There was a lot of it, enough to stretch his tummy to its limit. And when he was full from both ways, the rest would come gushing out; flowing from his maw like a waterfall, and surging out of his ass with each post-climax thrust of the tentacles. He literally could not contain this creature’s love.

Compared to the usual liquid, this one was even thicker, and smelled much sharper. And the taste, whenever a tentacle would slip into his mouth…

It tasted of need. It tasted of lust. It tasted like a master who needed to propagate its species. It tasted like a good breeding bitch who'd help them do just that.

And slowly, the fox forgot everything else. His past was of no consequence. All those names and faces wouldn't help him birth a brood. The biological impossibility of it was irrelevant; his master would try and try until it succeeded putting pups in him. Not even his own name mattered. He was nothing but a set of holes for those tentacles to dump their seed into.

And he was happy.

***

It wasn’t anyone else’s voice that freed the fox this time. It was an epiphany, of his own volition, that he suddenly but completely embraced.

He didn’t want to be taken.

Or... rescued, or however the voices put it.

He liked it here. He had a master now. One that took care of him. One that was so good to him. He didn’t have to worry about work or supplies or keeping his team together. After all, his master had given him a purpose and a new body perfect for carrying out that purpose.

Honestly… it didn’t feel like he was Fox, not anymore at least. He was his master's mate. And he didn’t need to be anything else.

Just as he reached that conclusion, he heard that sharp tone burst out from the radio again. It was somber, but still spirited. “Fox, I know you can hear me. Somehow, someway, I’m… we’re gonna save you. We’ll bring you home.”

In that moment, a fear like nothing he’d known gripped the fox. A second later, that fear turned into a burning fury. He wouldn’t let them separate him and his master. No matter what.

In a quick flourish, he slammed his paw down on the button, ending the transmission. The machine began beeping immediately, signalling another, but he ignored it. He leaned over the console and pressed a series of buttons from muscle memory. The Arwing jolted underneath him in warning, and he immediately jumped off of the seat and into the sand below.

A few seconds later, the burners ignited, and the Arwing took off... directly downward. Thrusters intended to break through planetary orbits were suddenly sending the ship burrowing into the loose sand, so deep it was likely to never be found again. Just like he wanted.

The fox sat and watched the ship dig its own grave, knowing full well that with it went his last chance at being taken anywhere else. And he was elated by that. Finally, no other distractions. Just him and his master.

The walk back to the cave was much more delightful than his first. His mind could finally focus on all the good memories again – the thrusts, the gropes, the knots, the face and assfucking, and the way all those tentacles just felt so natural all over him. He was, after all, nothing but a brood bitch.

And like a good brood bitch, the second he stepped back into the cave, he was all too happy to feel a slimy, supple limb wrap around his leg.

"Master... your fox has returned~"