Your Pet. Your Fox: Pegged on the third date

You’ve been talking for weeks...flirty texts, shared fantasies, a growing sense of trust. Now it’s your third date… and your first play date. He shows up nervous, eager, already half in love with the idea of being yours. He’s chosen to be a fox: cat software, dog hardware, desperate to please. You watch as he strips, puts on the ears, the collar…bends over to plug in his tail. He crawls to you on all fours, aching and obedient, blushing and begging for treats. He begs to be your good boy. You feed him. You pet him. You laugh. And then you let him worship you...tongue, lips, fingers, everything he has, just to hear you moan. By the time you take him...strap-on thick, deep, unrelenting...he’s already ruined for anyone else. And when he collapses afterward, breathless and blissed-out, you hold him close, stroke his hair, and tell him he’s yours.