The mouth of the Beijionese Desert

"Oh, I like the way you think, Satori." he replied, with a devilish grin of his own. Alastor then offered Satori a hand up. "C'mon, my motorcycle is nearby."

She grinned and took his hand. Her heart was thumping, and she followed him to the bike. "If all go's well we can celebrate tonight!" she replied, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

"Sounds good to me." Alastor replied. They soon found the motorcycle, Alastor gave Satori a spare helmet, and started the engine.

She slid the helmet on, and held onto Alastor tight with her arms wrapped around his waist. Luckly, the desert air had already started to dry her clothes so the slime didnt stick to Alastor's back.

After making sure everything was secure, they took off.

Out in the desert, laying in the sand on her knees with her back against the stone is Sesilia. Her eyes are closed, and her body is sweaty in this unforgiving section of desert. She could feel that she was...going to change to her less favorable form soon, it was going to come and she was going to have to resort to that awful process again...

She lets out a small sigh, sweat dripping down her forehead and onto the cloth of her cloak...

Somewhere in the desert's wastes, a feminine figure was travelling along the cracked sun backed earth, her heels crunching into the soil with each step she made. She had walked past a small deserted settlement, the small area had a bunch of dead trees sticking out from the earth and a fence had been erected from the soil which had surrounded a small burial plot. This woman's tattered and raggedy black cape she wore fluttered in the gust, and carrying with the wind was the sound of the harmonica she was playing:



She wasn't playing any tune in particular, just passing the time and playing a medley of songs that may be both catching and nostalgic. She was passing the time, the big gun on her thigh hardly shifting it's weight in it's leather holster. There was nothing going on in this graveyard she was walking through, quite literally. The small shack like houses were falling apart, and it looked as if the place had been abandoned for over twenty years. She had past what looked like shops and pubs, inns and constabularies. She finally paused before a fallen sign, and paused her tooting on the harmonica. She placed the pure silver shiny musical device away and grabbed the sign, holding it upright so she could gain a better look.

Rubbing the trail dust, dirt and other grime away from the petrified wooden sign with water and hard work, she could see the words spell out: "Gainsmort Village". She blinked at the name, and turned her head towards a large church-like building who's large silver bell was barely hanging on weakening ropes and straps. The woman gunman thought it would be only a matter of days if not hours till the bell would fall from it's weakened straps. She looked away from the church, and turned to the earth itself. She could see rusted pitch-fork teeth, sheers and other formerly metal objects litter the ground here and there, as well as some barrels what looked like they were once filled with food or grain. This village had been abandoned alright, just not evacuated. She had to guess, and using her heightened intuition as well as her ''sight'' powers, she could say that none of the previous inhabitants were still alive this day and age, nor were they all given a 'proper burial'. No, they got what some Gunslinger's in the Association had called ''Desert Burials'', which meant they were left to bake in the sun and to be scavenged by predators.
Of course, this was likely twenty years ago, if not a solid 18. The bodies would have been all gone by now. How they died would be a mystery to her, but Donne, formally called "The Jackal of the Wastes", didn't really give a damn how or who they even were. She was just passing on through. Satiating her curiosity's hunger she pulled away from the sign and clapped her fingerless gloved hands together, dispersing the soot and sand off of them as she then begins to look around to see if there was anything useful still about. As it was an abandoned village for what was likely two decades, Donne didn't think there be much valuable things left behind. Raiders and prospectors would have likely picked anything of true value clean from these houses and businesses left to rot in the Gailden Sun. Still though, it wouldn't hurt to check.

Journeying for days in search of something only she knew, a vixen had taken to holing up in this - appropriately - deserted village. A pale blue flame danced on her palm, flickering softly and casting a blue wave over her silken fur. The heat didn't agree with her, and conjuring the ghostly cool flame was all that kept her from something as undignified as panting. She hadn't bothered to take in the scenery when she first arrived; certainly she knew where she was, but she wrote off the village's fate as 'unfortunate' with no further observation, impatient to get out of the sun.

She'd been in a hastily chosen shack for roughly an hour now, only a few minutes of which were initially spent looking around. No water, electricity, or food, but that was to be expected. What had vexed her was the lack of valuables, and worse, the desert heat that filled her with aversion to going shack-hopping in search of any. Opting to stay where she was and cool down, it wasn't until only moments ago that she noticed a glimmer under the floorboards reflecting the light of her flame. Prying up the boards was a bit of an overstatement; the whole shack probably could've been taken apart at this point with a little free time and two hands. This one in particular, she reflected for just a moment, may have been loose on purpose, but the thought hardly registered at all before it was blown away by the discovery. A gilded box laying in a small compartment, half buried in sand. The surprise of something so decadent in such a place caused her flame to suddenly flare out of her hand in a spurt, a bright blue glow emanating from the shack she'd chosen. Practically a signal flare, though she didn't pay any mind. There couldn't be anyone else around...

As if on cue, Donne was about to enter what looked like some sort of general store when she saw something bright and blue catch her eye from her left. She turned, her hand on the butt of her gun. The blue shine had taken her by surprise, and it wasn't a sort of brilliant blue light you'd see everyday. It also definitely wasn't electrical in nature. Being ever the more curious, Donne decides to ditch the General Store and walk over to the source of the brilliant blue flash. The shack where it had been radiating from was very deplorable, as if it would fall apart any minute like that church bell somewhere behind her. Before her, there was a partially open door that lead into a dilapidated room. She moved her right hand over the gun's wooden grip and slowly pushed the door so she may enter. A gust of cold air rushed past her, and an involuntary shiver went up Donne's spine. "Holy crap, I'm freezing my tits off in here!" she thought coarsely, removing her hand from her gun and holding her arms across her chest as well as brought both of her long bare legs together and shivered to keep warm. It was cold enough to definitely take refuge from the desert heat. After taking a few moments to get used to the cooler room, she decided to gain further insight on how it could be so unusually cold in this shack where it should have been hot as or even hotter than it was outside.

She could see a faintish blue flickering light under a door frame, and she drew her pistol, not wanting to take any chances. She slowly crossed the creaky floor, displacing dust and soot and sand that had been carried into the establishment over the years. She got to the door quietly turning the handle slowly, her right hand which held the gun was against the face of the door, before she pushed it open and entered. She sweeps the room with the old gunslinger revolver, and then notices the beautiful bushy tail and reddish purple coat of something furry crouching over a pried up floorboard. She raised an eyebrow, and got closer without saying much of a word, and while she was trying to garner a better look at the crouched individual she steps onto a creaky board that echoed loudly in the empty spaces of the shack...

The fox tentatively reached for the gilded box with long, delicate fingers, grinning to herself as she basked in such a find. She mulled whether and how to open it... in such a place, and hidden such a way, these made it less likely to be booby trapped. Yet being so ostentatious once found, it practically dared her to open it, raising her suspicions. Just as she'd resolved to circle around and open it from the back side, avoiding any potential spring traps, she heard the creak of the floorboard and suddenly bolted to the other side of the box, rather than the leisurely pace she'd intended. Her tail bushed as her eyes narrowed, the pale blue flame suddenly flaring again before dying out in her hand, covering the far wall in a sheet of solid ice. Ironically, it would probably hold the shack together better than without, though once it melted the entire thing was likely to come down.

Locking her gaze on the new arrival, she furrowed her brow, placing her hands over the just-found gilded box covetously. If she was afraid of the gun, it was buried under defensive snarls, her tail puffing up even more to increase her presence. Indeed, one could be forgiven for thinking this merely an unusual wild animal until her snarl was slowly overtaken by a grin. "I do hope you're not after this," she jeered, instinctively covering the box with the sand under the floorboards. Of course, she had no idea of the gunslinger's intent, or whether she even knew what the fox had found...

The gunslinger eyed the vixen well, and was surprised by her find. She looked over to see the wall covered in a thick layer of ice, which both helped put her mind at ease and then send a cold chill she was trying to suppress thanks to her equal lack of clothing. She noticed the fox before her was just as voluptuous and in skimpy attire as much as she herself was. However, unlike the fox before her, Donne really didn't care for the cold. She listened to the feminine fox speak, and instinctively she brought her reddish brown eyes down upon the open floor boards and then back into the violet eyes of the fox. "You hope I'm not after...what exactly?" she asked, looking intently in the fox's eyes. She took a few steps towards the open floor boards, but she didn't keep her eyes off the fox. The Gunslinger tried to use her 'second sight' to look into the mind of the fox before her, to see if she had any ill intent, but surprisingly she could not even enter their mind. As she stood before the opening, she moved her eyes away from the fox's and looked into the gaping hole. "What is that?" she asked, curious by the gilded box and it's unnerving glow in the low light.

"Nothing," the fox barked, covering the last of it with sand. She stood up, tensed. It wasn't so much that shiny things had this kind of effect on her, no; just shiny valuable things. Even though the gunslinger presented herself as completely ignorant of the contents of the box and, for that matter, not particularly a threat, the vixen was already in hoarding mode. She flexed her fingers, readying... something. "So I'll ask again, are you after my nothing?" Even the fox seemed to realize how ridiculous she was being, a grin across her face signifying both confidence and self-mockery. Still, she seemed to be expecting a legitimate answer, her violet eyes fixed on the gunslinger with a piercing gaze.

Tashia Stravinsky wrote:"Nothing," the fox barked, covering the last of it with sand.

"Uh...huh..." she says, reaching slowly into the bag that had hung around her torso and brought out a waterskin, essentially a bloated leather waterproof bag used to carry water by the Gunslinger Association. She popped the nipple open with her mouth, and water spilled down onto the floor. Donne looked nonchalant about it as she brought the leather canteen to her mouth and started to gulp down some of it's contents.

Tashia Stravinsky wrote:She flexed her fingers, readying... something. "So I'll ask again, are you after my nothing?" Even the fox seemed to realize how ridiculous she was being, a grin across her face signifying both confidence and self-mockery. Still, she seemed to be expecting a legitimate answer, her violet eyes fixed on the gunslinger with a piercing gaze.

She almost spat out the water she had in her mouth, pulling away the bag from her mouth to stifle a mild chuckling spell. It was likely not intentional, but it had hit her funny bone all the same. She looked over to the fox and grinned. "Well...how about a peek then? Just to feed my curiosities hunger." she says handing her the canteen too. She could see by the way the fox had panted softly, almost secretly, and could tell they were quite thirsty. "Here... have a drink." she says. Her grin was still there, and she gave a piercing stare right back at the vulpine woman.

The vixen's grin shifted more in the balance of confidence. This was a perfect opportunity: If the box was in fact booby trapped, she could learn without dirtying her hands. Or face, or blood... however the trap was set. Her tail swished, each wag bringing it closer to a reasonable size. "I suppose that would be alright," she cooed, beckoning to the box. It was true she was thirsty - even though her blue flame had kept her cool, the elemental ice wasn't the kind of thing that melted into drinkable water. She'd been thirsty even before reaching the desert, besides, and she was easily tempted by the offer. Water, right now, took a higher place in her mind than gold. In this way, at least, she could be called reasonable.

Stepping across the creaking floorboards with a hand outstretched, she reached for the canteen. If there was any trepidation in her action, it didn't show... though that may have had something to do with the fact that she kept one hand hidden behind her back. "I'd like to see what's in it, anyway," she joked.

Donne raised an eyebrow. Foxes in general were clever creatures. It had just occurred to her then that this creature may have something else in store for the gunslinger... but what exactly? She didn't know. For the moment she'd just be a little on guard as she handed the canteen over to the fox. "Donne, by the way." she said, also giving her name. She lowered the weapon, but didn't put it back in it's holster. As the canteen was taken from her, she slowly hunkered down to the opening and brushed aside the soil to expose the gold box beneath and inspected it. "Hmm... I'm not sure if it's trapped. If it is, it's likely not a physical trap, for it's way too small unless someone decided to tie a handgrenade to the lid of the box..." she says to herself out loud, still, she wanted to be careful. She reached to the small pouch on the opposite side of her gun holster, and pulled out her shiny silver harmonica again. She lightly unscrewed the pure silver faceplate so that it could swing out like a folding knife. She looked up at the vulpine figure and cocked an eyebrow. "If this thing decides to shrink me, don't step on me please. That would be a horrible way to go." she said half-jokingly, bringing the silver slab to the corner of the box's crevice, and slowly began to lift the lid...

The fox's eyebrow raised as she took a swig. Her heart skipped a beat, making the swallow very uncomfortable. It was the kind of sensation she couldn't distinguish clearly as being a flash of inspiration or the gunslinger reading her mind. Indeed, in that very instant that the woman was looking away, she'd decided on a small purple flame in the hand behind her back. She waited for the woman to turn her attention back to the box before licking her lips. "Oh, you have my promise I won't step on you," she cooed, enunciating the word for the sake of a joke, so it seemed.

As the box's lid was lifted open, the vixen heard a spring trigger. Lurching forward with lightning reflexes, she flung a ball of violet flame at the woman's back, engulfing her at once and swiftly hurling the world around her into chaos. When she would be able to gather her senses, it might take her a while to discern what had happened... or, having a suspicion already, she might not be so shocked at the changed environment around her; the sand pebbles strewn around the floor, the unusually coarse grain of the woodwork... and the enormous vixen standing what seemed to be miles away. Tashia smirked as she stepped closer to the tiny woman, making sure to nonchalantly shift over to block her view of the slim dart that had gone sailing by. Possibly poisoned, and possibly the kind of thing that would result in enough blood loss given its position and shape, more like a small dagger than a regular dart... the fox didn't have much appreciation for it, aside for the irony that her fake trap had saved the woman from the real one. Her footsteps shook the floorboards, sending shocks into the woman's legs with each footfall...

Tashia Stravinsky wrote:The fox's eyebrow raised as she took a swig. Her heart skipped a beat, making the swallow very uncomfortable. It was the kind of sensation she couldn't distinguish clearly as being a flash of inspiration or the gunslinger reading her mind. Indeed, in that very instant that the woman was looking away, she'd decided on a small purple flame in the hand behind her back. She waited for the woman to turn her attention back to the box before licking her lips. "Oh, you have my promise I won't step on you," she cooed, enunciating the word for the sake of a joke, so it seemed.

As the box's lid was lifted open, the vixen heard a spring trigger. Lurching forward with lightning reflexes, she flung a ball of violet flame at the woman's back, engulfing her at once and swiftly hurling the world around her into chaos. When she would be able to gather her senses, it might take her a while to discern what had happened... or, having a suspicion already, she might not be so shocked at the changed environment around her; the sand pebbles strewn around the floor, the unusually coarse grain of the woodwork... and the enormous vixen standing what seemed to be miles away. Tashia smirked as she stepped closer to the tiny woman, making sure to nonchalantly shift over to block her view of the slim dart that had gone sailing by. Possibly poisoned, and possibly the kind of thing that would result in enough blood loss given its position and shape, more like a small dagger than a regular dart... the fox didn't have much appreciation for it, aside for the irony that her fake trap had saved the woman from the real one. Her footsteps shook the floorboards, sending shocks into the woman's legs with each footfall...

She found the way the fox gulped at her remark a tad strange, but ignored it for now, and then as she slowly opened the box--POOF!

Donne blinked, looking about her. "Dammit... my 'sight' was telling me something like this was gonna happen..." she said, placing a small stick in her mouth from her pack, folding her arms across her chest. She looked up at the dart, and she guessed she could have dodged it with her Dead Eye ability, but then again... it would have been a very close and tricky dodge to pull off. She guessed she'd have to thank the fox. She was turning towards the fox when the fox decided to walk towards her instead. Donne, uncoordinated by these creaky tremors had a hard time standing straight, her small gun held tightly in her hand. "W-Woah! Hey now, shouldn't you be transforming me back to my size, y'know, we both originally stood at the same height before!" she explained, the 5'9 woman was more like 50 if not a 100 feet tall now. There was something in her violet gaze that didn't seem right though, and a pinch of nervousness inside her made the gunwoman feel uneasy about those eyes. "Oh how I wish I was able to read your mind more clearly..." she mutters under her breath. "Okay... you can stay right there now..." she says, instinctively raising her pistol, then realizing the size difference, the bullets she would now fire from her Revenge '51 would be little more than bb's when fired, if not smaller. They would hardly even leave a welt on the tall and giant vixen with her beautiful coat of purple fur. Donne looked up, and felt sweat trickle down the side of her face and down her slender neck. The miniature woman gulped, and took a self conscious step back...

The fox sneered, mildly impressed. "So you guessed it wasn't the box, mm? You're a sharp one," she cooed, her steps getting closer and orders of magnitude more overpowering. Soon her fuzzy toes planted themselves right before the woman, claws outstretched and missing her by a hair as they came down. Her toes shifted, teasing her; the miniscule movements were enough, had the fox desired, to reach over and squash the poor woman with. Yet for now, she'd be allowed to remain on her feet.

"Mm, now that you mention it, I do just have such an itch on my soles... I almost can't help myself from scratching it, you know?" Her other foot raised and came down swiftly, threatening to flatten the gunslinger... before thudding down hard behind her, shaking the floor tremendously. The fox teasingly twisted her feet against the ground, murring. The perhaps-unintended consequence of the vulpine's stance was giving the tiny woman a rather clear view up her legs, which if taken would soon be interrupted as she squatted down, her face resting on the floor upside-down behind the woman. "But I did promise, didn't I? Well..." she pondered, pausing for just enough time to make the woman uncomfortable, "I suppose I have other itches..." Her tail swished, kicking up a cloud of dust that may as well have been a sandstorm to the misfortunate lilliputian...

Tashia Stravinsky wrote:The fox sneered, mildly impressed. "So you guessed it wasn't the box, mm? You're a sharp one," she cooed, her steps getting closer and orders of magnitude more overpowering. Soon her fuzzy toes planted themselves right before the woman, claws outstretched and missing her by a hair as they came down. Her toes shifted, teasing her; the miniscule movements were enough, had the fox desired, to reach over and squash the poor woman with. Yet for now, she'd be allowed to remain on her feet.

"Mm, now that you mention it, I do just have such an itch on my soles... I almost can't help myself from scratching it, you know?" Her other foot raised and came down  swiftly, threatening to flatten the gunslinger... before thudding down hard behind her, shaking the floor tremendously. The fox teasingly twisted her feet against the ground, murring. The perhaps-unintended consequence of the vulpine's stance was giving the tiny woman a rather clear view up her legs, which if taken would soon be interrupted as she squatted down, her face resting on the floor upside-down behind the woman. "But I did promise, didn't I? Well..." she pondered, pausing for just enough time to make the woman uncomfortable, "I suppose I have other itches..." Her tail swished, kicking up a cloud of dust that may as well have been a sandstorm to the misfortunate lilliputian...

She didn't really find this vixen's games very fun, toying with her, taking advantage of her shrunken state while she danced and threatened to squish her with her feet. At one moment, after she had quick glimpse of what was between the fox's legs she had been forced onto the planks, her gun flying from her hands. The small weapon skittered across the wooden splintery floor before catching onto a raised knotch in the plank flooring. "Damn!" she cursed, turning around on her back, having to adjust the stetson on her head to look up at the large fox woman above her. "Other itches? What-" before she could ask further the large sweeping tail blew dust and a torrent of air at her, the force of the air was strong enough to send her rolling in this miniature sandstorm towards the edge of the hole where the box-now the size of a building lay about 20 feet below. She pulled out her bowie knife, stabbing it into the wood to keep her from rolling off the edge, but the gust was so strong that she had let go! "Aw, craaaap!" she screamed, her body at the mercy of the gust as her body was about to be swept off the ledge!

The fox nonchalantly lurched forward - as nonchalantly as one can lurch - her hand reaching to catch the woman just before she fell to her doom... or at least to injury. "My, my, the world is a lot more threatening at that size, isn't it?" Bringing the woman up to about chest level, her violet gaze fell over her like a wave. "I don't think you can be trusted to go off by yourself like that, I mean... going outside alone would be like stepping into the mouth of hell." The sheer difference this size would make for traveling was likely to cause a sinking feeling all its own, doubly so when the comment indicated the fox had no intention of changing her back. "I think you need to be tucked away someplace safe for your own protection, don't you? Maybe you can scratch an itch for me while you're at it..." Her grin became wicked and devious. Whatever was coming next was certainly no reprieve...

Tashia Stravinsky wrote:The fox nonchalantly lurched forward - as nonchalantly as one can lurch - her hand reaching to catch the woman just before she fell to her doom... or at least to injury. "My, my, the world is a lot more threatening at that size, isn't it?" Bringing the woman up to about chest level, her violet gaze fell over her like a wave. "I don't think you can be trusted to go off by yourself like that, I mean... going outside alone would be like stepping into the mouth of hell." The sheer difference this size would make for traveling was likely to cause a sinking feeling all its own, doubly so when the comment indicated the fox had no intention of changing her back. "I think you need to be tucked away someplace safe for your own protection, don't you? Maybe you can scratch an itch for me while you're at it..." Her grin became wicked and devious. Whatever was coming next was certainly no reprieve...

It had been a flash when she was yanked by a fuzzy hand and pulled away from the gaping hole in the floor. While glad she didn't fall to injury or death, as she was brought to chest level she blushed looking at the curvy vixen's... bountiful bouncing breasts. She suddenly developed an insecurity for her own, which jiggled behind her thin shirt, her nipples still hardened due to the cold air. She blushed, not too long ago they were probably had the same bust, but one with such insecurities found it somewhat hard to ignore especially when she was hovering before the large bouncing orbs as if the fox was taunting her. Folding her arms across her chest and grunted looking up at the fox. The words that then radiated from it's clever muzzle made her shiver with more than just cold. "You... wretched-! Let me go! I demand that you do, or you'll be sorry!" she screamed, a mix of pure rage and fear in her frail and now smaller voice. Her blond hair fell over her eyes and she pushed back strands from her face as she looked through her small pack for anything that might be useful. The thought of being 'tucked away' and being told to 'scratch an itch' for her didn't sound all too promising as it was ominous.

"Sorry, is it...?" The vixen chuckled softly. "There isn't a thing in this world you could do to me now. Only for me," she cooed, her tail swishing twice as if in rhythm to her speech, "And don't forget it." She kept the woman at the same elevation, bringing her head down instead, her massive cavernous muzzle opening wide, her tongue darting out... and licking over the woman's face and chest in the same motion with the simultaneously rough and slick surface. She was covered instantly in a thin film of saliva, soaking her upper body and making her clothes transparent. The water she'd offered the fox served to make her even more sopping wet, especially with another lick, this time covering her entire torso. The fox seemed to be tasting her, and yet delayed the final gulp, or even popping the woman into her mouth... instead suddenly lowering the woman's elevation considerably. She wasn't headed to the floor, that much could be guessed immediately. When the world came back into focus from being a speedy blur, she would find herself under the fox's tail... and inches from her rear. "Now, are you going to scratch my itch for me? Or do I have to scratch it with you?" She cackled, lowering herself to her knees and soon lying facedown on the ground, dropping the shrunken woman in the cleft between her soft, fuzzy cheeks. "Remember, I'm the only one who can turn you back, should I want to..."

Tashia Stravinsky wrote:"Sorry, is it...?" The vixen chuckled softly. "There isn't a thing in this world you could do to me now. Only for me," she cooed, her tail swishing twice as if in rhythm to her speech, "And don't forget it." She kept the woman at the same elevation, bringing her head down instead, her massive cavernous muzzle opening wide, her tongue darting out... and licking over the woman's face and chest in the same motion with the simultaneously rough and slick surface. She was covered instantly in a thin film of saliva, soaking her upper body and making her clothes transparent. The water she'd offered the fox served to make her even more sopping wet, especially with another lick, this time covering her entire torso. The fox seemed to be tasting her, and yet delayed the final gulp, or even popping the woman into her mouth... instead suddenly lowering the woman's elevation considerably. She wasn't headed to the floor, that much could be guessed immediately. When the world came back into focus from being a speedy blur, she would find herself under the fox's tail... and inches from her rear. "Now, are you going to scratch my itch for me? Or do I have to scratch it with you?" She cackled, lowering herself to her knees and soon lying facedown on the ground, dropping the shrunken woman in the cleft between her soft, fuzzy cheeks. "Remember, I'm the only one who can turn you back, should I want to..."

The vixen's words made her heart sink, and she had let out a shrill scream of surprise as she lowered her muzzle and began licking her small body. She felt the tongue's coarse yet slick surface lather her face and chest, causing the miniature gunslinger to choke and cough in disgust. The thin materials of her clothes soaked through, sticking to her body and making them transparent, her nipples, unprotected from sight due to a lack of a conventional bra, shown through the thin material. She could see a large cavernous hole ahead of her, beyond the crest of the hill that was the fox's tongue. She tried to keep her cool, but she couldn't help but scream nervously at the darkness ahead of her.

Suddenly, right when she was expecting to be thrown into the maw, lathered with more thick and dripping saliva before being ultimately swallowed alive, she was pulled away from the maw. She blinked, wondering now if she had just wanted to play some sort of sick joke before letting her go. She groaned, flicking out her arms and slinging saliva off them before she noticed she wasn't heading for the floor... but the vulpine's rather large rear! She blushed, unsure what to make of this situation as she pressed her back against her hand, trying her best to keep away from the creature's buttocks; the large bushy tail above her swaying and causing a gust of wind to take the slobbery hat off of her head and into the palm of the vixen's hand. She let out another scream as she was dropped between the twin soft valleys, shivering due to the cold air mixing with her wet upper body and of the fear of what the fox had apparently wanted her to do to 'get her body back to normal'.

She gulped. "Wh-what exactly do you expect me to do?! Wh-why put me through this kind of torture?!" she whined, not generally a whining person by nature, but stuck between the clefts of this giant foxes buttocks made her feel very uneasy about what the fox had planned for her.

"Why?" she cooed amusedly. "Someone as small as you doesn't really get to ask why, do they? I would've expected something more like 'yes, mistress' or, better yet, an action that spoke louder than words," she chuckled, shifting her hips slightly and letting the woman sink an inch or two deeper into the crevasse. "You know, I can barely hear you back there to begin with, so if you want me to listen you might just need to use actions to get your message across. Scratch an itch for me, maybe... a deep itch." The vulpine's tail swished, kicking up a cloud of dust again that swept over her rear and buffeted the poor woman trapped halfway between her cheeks. The vixen's rear seemed to be held loose enough to dive deeper, out of the dust storm, and yet using that to escape would certainly be swatted down by her hand, or worse, punished in a much more degrading fashion. Naturally, the thought that she would end up in the same place whether willingly or un- carried some weight as well... and the vixen didn't sound like she'd be satisfied with half-measures on the part of the tiny woman...

Tashia Stravinsky wrote:"Why?" she cooed amusedly. "Someone as small as you doesn't really get to ask why, do they? I would've expected something more like 'yes, mistress' or, better yet, an action that spoke louder than words," she chuckled, shifting her hips slightly and letting the woman sink an inch or two deeper into the crevasse. "You know, I can barely hear you back there to begin with, so if you want me to listen you might just need to use actions to get your message across. Scratch an itch for me, maybe... a deep itch." The vulpine's tail swished, kicking up a cloud of dust again that swept over her rear and buffeted the poor woman trapped halfway between her cheeks. The vixen's rear seemed to be held loose enough to dive deeper, out of the dust storm, and yet using that to escape would certainly be swatted down by her hand, or worse, punished in a much more degrading fashion. Naturally, the thought that she would end up in the same place whether willingly or un- carried some weight as well... and the vixen didn't sound like she'd be satisfied with half-measures on the part of the tiny woman...

She sunk deeper into the valleys and mumbled to herself, something about 'sadistic bitch', but given the sound in her words, the poor gunwoman had no other choice it seemed... Making a long exasperated sigh, Donne closed her eyes and grimaced. She slowly sank beneath the hills of the foxes rump and started wiggling her slick and frail form between the valleys that were squishing her but not so much that it would kill her. The thought of the fox tightening her gluts which would then surely snap poor Donne in half came to her panic stricken mind. She didn't even know if this clever fox even had an itch, but she was surely hoped it wasn't as deep as she said it might have been. She begins her search, bringing her hands around her, groping in the darkness as she climbed deeper and deeper; her own ass was sticking out from the clefts of the vixen's cheeks, her sexy legs kicking and pressing against the cheeks of the fox she was unfortunately climbing into.