Monday, April 16, 2018

Furs, Swords and Sorcery 2 - by FurCreamer

Ugh, “short” was fun while it lasted.

We move on to the sorcery… third… of the title. This one runs longer, but there’s 2 orgasms, one ‘magic’ and shit.

Naturally the caster is totes overpowered, otherwise my generic fantasy world would not be in compliance with generic fantasy world rules.

So, on with the show…

Raven Furseeker in “Small Town Prison Fox Blues”, by FurCreamer

Raven Furseeker stared through the pitted iron bars with wrote disinterest as the guard’s nondescript dick began shooting thick streams of jizz into the big rabbit fur muff in her left hand. His features screwed up into a rictus of pleasure while his grunts filled the small, chilly jail. Raven’s perfectly-plucked, black brow arched ever so slightly at the volume of sticky cocksnot suddenly flowing from the man’s hard shaft. Otherwise, her mask of complete indifference remained undisturbed.

Thick white lines piled one after another across the white-spotted, brown fur in rapid pulses. Someone wasn’t getting much at home, Raven thought with something approaching mild amusement. Her gaze flicked between the rapidly accumulating cum stains and the wall beyond the cells. The damp, cobblestone stone wall of the jail wasn’t the focus of her attention, rather what hung there: a very, very large fur cloak.

Raven maintained the placid look of complete disinterest while her wrist continued pumping the big round rabbit fur muff against the spraying cock. Each pump of fur on shaft resulted in a fresh burst of white man-jelly into the soft, short-haired fur. She steadily rotated the stuffed, barrel-sized muff, keeping fresh, clean pelt stimulating his cock. Much of the rather large surface was a white-streaked mess of freshly spent nut.

The guard’s orgasm ended with a short series of oozes Raven skillfully soaked up with a small patch of dry fur. He stumbled back from the cell door, limp cock swinging out of his faded burgundy uniform pants. His breath arrived deep gulps that slowly returned to a regular cadence. He stuffed his spent cock back inside but did not re-fasten the fly. He was still slightly horse when he said, “The tales are true, this… fur magic is… powerful.”

Raven’s fixed gaze broke briefly with a flutter of the sort of impatient exasperation usually reserved for persistent children or the painfully ignorant. It was only fortunate the latter worked in her favor. She dropped the cum-soaked, rabbit fur muff to the packed dirt of the cell floor. It landed with a slightly wet slap and a small splatter of freshly spent semen.

Raven effected her haughtiest tone, “Yes… and that was merely a taste with such a dreadfully poor piece of fur.”

And it was dreadful. Raven wouldn’t be caught dead accessorizing with such a pedestrian piece of rabbit fur. The fact remained that she had been caught, very much alive, so certain fashion compromises became an unfortunate necessity. The fact that it happened in some no-name backwater with a one-cell jailhouse further irritated her.

The pale, raven-haired sorceress nodded towards the far stone wall of the jail where the cloak hung. “If you wish to truly experience the full extent of the ecstasy fur can provide, you need merely retrieve my cloak.”

The guard turned back towards where the beautiful prisoner’s cloak hung.

The cloak the chief constable specifically warned should not be returned to the prisoner under any circumstances.

It hung from a metal sconce that usually held a torch. The monolithic garment snapped off the wooden pegs reserved for clothing in the small jail office. The voluminous hooded fur was simply too heavy for the sturdy oak pegs. He knew because he’d picked it up, hung it there, and watched even the metal sag under the weight.

The guard quickly recalled the sensation of touching the cloak. The memory of touching the softest thing he’d ever felt in his entire life was very fresh in his orgasm-clouded mind. He gazed at it, that memory now bleeding into the yet fresher one of how that big rabbit muff became a soggy mess on the floor of the prisoner’s cell.

Surely this was not an opportunity to miss…

His fingers gingerly dipped into the back of the cloak. The guard’s flaccid cock sprang back to life, through his open fly, as the sensation of the fur enveloped his hands. He pulled it down from the improvised metal hanger, almost letting it drop as the full weight returned. Raven rolled her eyes, polished black leather boot tapping impatiently on the cell floor. “Careful, you twit.”

The guard shifted back on his heels, hefted the weight of the enormous fur cloak, and walked back towards the cell. Raven found it more difficult to maintain the mask of frigid disinterest as her prized possession approached.

The central body of the cloak was double-sided black fox, fringed in its entirety by a huge silver fox collar/trim. The rear of the cloak was double-layered, with a double-sided cape sitting atop the rear of the cloak. Both layers were double-sided, with silver fox on the inside and black fox on the outside. Long, boa-like silver fox tails hung off the rear edge of the cape layer.

The guard figured the cloak weighed over thirty pounds, all of it fur. It seemed as if it were created on a bet to see how much fur one could use in a single garment. With some effort, he began pushing the cloak between the bars of the cell. Had his gaze not focused on the giant fur cloak, he would have noticed the icy sorceress smiling.

The last tail fringe slipped between the bars. Raven whipped it around her shoulders as if it were nothing more than a simple cotton robe. It settled, the long train of fur coming to rest on the floor of the cell in a wide half-moon with Raven at the center.

The guard, his cock hard and leaking, looked at Raven. “Now, you got it,” he grabbed his dick, “Show me what it can do.”


In the space of only a second, the cell door snapped off, accelerated, and pushed the guard across the room. He impacted the far stone wall shortly after the rusty metal remains of the door hinges hit the dirt floor. His wheezing filled the room, breath stolen in the impact of the barred door against his chest. Through the bars pinning him, he watched Raven step purposefully through the now open cell, the edges of her cloak brushing against the warped metal around the shattered hinges.


“Fur Sorceress.”

Raven’s voice carried across the room in a manner far beyond natural sound. Dust fell in small motes from the walls and the plates on the small table near the door rattled. The enormous black and silver fox cloak should have been dragging the dirt floor behind her, but it was not. It floated a few inches above, the fur spilling out in half moon behind Raven, the tails along the rear edge undulating softly.

Raven raised her right hand and flicked her fingers to the right. The cell door snapped to the right and slammed into the wall, releasing the guard from the wall. He gasped, lungs no longer crushed under the weight of the shorn cell door, then began to lunge forward, reaching for his sword.

“Ah ah…” Again her finger gestured. The guard’s sword arm stopped. He looked down, seeing his wrist wrapped in what appeared to be a thick, fluffy white fox boa. The fur seemed to have erupted from the floor of the jail, through a hazy arcane glow.

Another white fox boa appeared in a glowing pool from the floor and grabbed the guard’s other wrist. Together they tugged him down to his knees. The sensation of the fur on his skin was soft, but the power behind the arcane fur appendages was impossible to overcome.

The guard grunted as he tried to raise his arms, but he couldn’t.

Raven stood above him. “Enjoying the ‘fur magic’ so far?” Her black brow peaked and her glossy plumb-painted lip curled into a satisfied smirk.

“Release me!” the guard sputtered.

Raven ignored the command, such as it was. “My cloak is hungry,” she replied, brushing the wide silver fox fringe/collar lightly with her left hand. “You’re a little spent, but I can fix that.”

She waved her hand once more, and the guard screamed. The guard’s dirty, city-issued uniform pants snapped along the seams, tearing away as his balls inflated. Pain lanced through his groin, and a groan of something between agony and ecstasy escaped his lips. Fully exposed now, his sac stretched, skin turning pink, veins pulsing outward, and formerly wrinkled skin pulling tight. Soon his scrotum grew larger than a melon, swinging between his sweaty thighs.

Above the guard’s rapidly ballooning balls, his erection immediately began leaking. White oozing blobs started flowing out the pink glans as the arcane forces at work in his groin forced his distended testicles into a frenzy. The dripping flow of precum increased quickly and started rolling down the front of his grossly swollen sac.

Raven flicked her long gloved hand once again, and a third fur boa erupted from the ground below his expanding sack. This one was blue fox, larger and thicker than the two holding him down at the wrists. It snaked around the base of his cock, entwining his flesh in a cradle of soft fur. His groans turned to pleasure again. From the base of his cock, the circular boa spiraled upwards, enveloping everything but the glans, leaving it free to freely pour white precum in short spurts.

Raven drew her massive cloak closed as she stepped right up to the helpless, leaking guard. Guided by her unspoken command, the blue fox boa began rhythmically pumping his cock. What had been slow spurts from his magically pumped nuts became a hard, heavy arcing stream that sprayed across the front of her resplendent silver fox fringed collar and hood.

The guard screamed, one once more not easily distinguishable as pleasure or pain. The thick, hard spunk erupted from his body with such power it flew four or five feet to meet the highest crest of Raven’s massive fox cloak. White lines of heavy, almost chunky semen flew into the long, plush fur, carving deep canyons. The guard’s cries filled the small jail.

The pleasured torment did not let up as the magically-controlled, blue fox boa milked his shaft. His modest length had not been enhanced by the spell, only his now painfully swollen balls. The blubbery blue fox boa pumped and swirled around his flesh, keeping his body in a constant state of furgasm. Jets of custard-thick spunk shot with little pause between them, looking more like a rain of sticky, ivory piss across the front of Raven’s monumental fox cloak. Steadily the vast swaths of fur were covered in long looping lines and thick heavy clumps.

In the dank, musty jail room the smell of spunk began pushing even the age-old scents of mildew and decay out. It was a familiar one to Raven, who felt her cloak soaking up the guard’s overpowered orgasm. She felt the weight of the cloak against her shoulders, sagging at the front from the amount of fresh jizz plastered to it. The guard’s sac slowly withered back to its original size as the contents were emptied against her mega fox cloak.

The guard’s face contorted into a mask of agonized pleasure and drool rolled down his chin. He slumped down, not moving.

With a double wave of her hands, Raven uttered an incantation. The spunk-stained cloak hovered a bit higher off the floor, and soon the huge clumps of the guard’s baby-batter seemed to sink inwards and be consumed. The fur seemed to brighten and thicken even further, the fox hairs becoming longer and shinier. Seconds later it was clean, no trace of the guard’s voluminous stains remained.

Raven allowed a brief, but very satisfied smile. The boas both restraining and milking the guards receded back into their arcane portals, and he completely crumpled to the floor.

“Powerful enough for you, darling?” she asked as she stepped over him. The cloak hovered over him as she passed, never touching him again.

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