Liver Snaps

I never thought that I’d die this young. I exercised, I ate right, I got all my shots. I bought a car with a good safety rating and kept my home clean. Unfortunately there’s really no preventative measure you can take to keep a full moon-crazed kumiho from cutting your power, hunting you down, and gorging herself on your liver.

 

“You can’t hide from me all night Honey, I know this house like the back of my hand.” Sang’s call echoes through the dark house.

 

A jolt of fear runs through me as I hear her taunt. She’s close. Gut instinct tells me to run, to drop everything and make for the door. My mind knows better however, and if I want to keep my liver I’ll have to keep my head. Sang’s got night vision far better than mine and I’ve seen how fast she can move when she wants to. She’d be on me before I was even halfway to the door. So instead, I creep as quietly as I can away from where I think I heard her voice come from. Which isn’t very quiet at all, as it turns out. I make it past the tower fan, what I’ve been most worried about running into all night, just fine, but three feet down the hall my foot bangs against the laundry basket.

 

“Fufufu~”

 

A throaty chuckle from somewhere in front of me confirms that, yes, she did in fact hear that. I turn and run, groping my way through the pitch blackness of the hall, until I hit a door. I wrench it open and hurl myself inside, then regret it immediately. The soft touch of wool and cotton and the hard jab of a plastic grip embrace me as I pass the threshold. I’m in the damned closet. That’s how it’s going to end: disemboweled amidst winter coats and vacuum cleaner attachments because I couldn’t be bothered to take the laundry to the washroom.

 

—

 

I should have known she wasn’t really a kitsune. I should have seen the signs. Er, sign. There was only one. But it was a pretty damn big sign. If it had been a literal sign and not a figurative one it would have been 8 stories high and pumping enough neon to make the Vegas Strip look like a night light:

 

She ate liverwurst.

 

On purpose.

 

Regularly.

 

Nobody likes liverwurst. Nobody. Even that kid in school whose parents were militant hippies wouldn’t trade his tempeh pups and raw milk for a liverwurst sandwich. Yet every grocery run brought with it a package of that accursed sausage that would disappear almost faster than it could be replaced. I actually watched her eat it once; her tails wagged so fast they started cracking like bullwhips. That should have been the signal to change all the locks and develop a severe drinking problem, but I was too intoxicated by the promise of fluffy tailjobs and fried tofu to grasp what I was seeing. Now I’m going to pay for it.

 

—

 

The sound of carpet-muffled footsteps reaches my ears from the far side of the door. She’s closing in. I back further into the closet. Maybe if I’m behind all these jackets she won’t notice me. And maybe Judge Dredd will come rescue me. Yeah right. I need to find something to defend myself with. Feeling my way past the vacuum cleaner, my hand chances upon the broom. Not the ideal weapon for stopping a liver-craving vulpine berserker, but it’s better than just lying down and accepting my fate. The footsteps stop just as I bring the cleaning implement up into a batter’s stance.

 

“Do you think you’re safe in there?”

 

The door explodes. My erstwhile girlfriend stands on the other side, the last sparks of the blue fire she used to destroy my closet flickering around the rusty red fur of her tails. She’s grinning like The Mask, but her eyes are dead and glassy, pools of all-consuming hunger.

 

“Hey there sweet-heart.”

 

What I was hoping would be a stirring war cry comes out more like the squeal of a piglet on the chopping block as I swing the broom. She swats it aside like a fly, smirking.

 

“Good effort. Very good. But the game’s over now.”

 

Sang grabs me by the collar and drags me across the floor, shrugging off my attempts to break free of her grasp. She heaves me one-handed onto the table when we get to the dining room.

 

“Don’t struggle. You’ll just make it hurt more.”

 

Her claws reduce my shirt to confetti. I squirm involuntarily as her nails drag over my exposed torso, searching for the right place to sink her teeth in. Her finger stops and presses into a spot just below my ribs. She pokes at it, pinching me like a grocer inspecting a piece of fruit. Satisfied that she’s found the perfect place to dig in, she withdraws her hands, brings her mouth down to my exposed flesh, licks her lips…

 

And blows the wettest raspberry in the history of raspberries on my stomach.

 

“W-what are you-“

 

“APRIL FOOLS!”

 

Sang straightens up and starts giggling. Her giggling crescendos into laughter, then into bellowing. She drops to her knees in hysterics, tears streaming down her face.

 

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…”

 

“You crazy bitch!”

 

“…HAHAHAHAHAHA…”

 

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

 

“…HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…”

 

“STOP FUCKING LAUGHING!”

 

She finally gets ahold of herself, giggles still managing to escape her from time to time.

 

“So you’re not a kumiho?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“And all the liverwurst eating and discouraging me from drinking and the CONSTANT biting and licking and stomach kissing during sex?”

 

“All part of the joke.”

 

“So you changed up your whole lifestyle for almost a month, cut my power, broke into my house, hunted me through it, CHUCKED A FIREBALL AT ME AND SHREDDED MY FAVORITE SHIRT ALL FOR A FRICKIN APRIL FOOL’S PRANK?!?”

 

“Oh lighten up Sergeant Shultz. You’re just sore ‘cause I got you.”

 

“Not half as sore as you’re gonna be after I get through with you!”

 

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

 

The cheeky bitch sticks her tongue out at me and darts off toward the rear of the house. I bolt after her. I’ve got no idea what I’ll do if I actually catch her, but I’m mad as hell and I’m not going t-

 

*BANG*

 

“OWGODJESUSCHRISTSONOFACOKESNORTINGWHORE!”

 

The hall fan is next on my list after I finish with Sang.

 

—

 

With the power restored, I resume my search, starting with living room. The back door there is wide open. Curious. She’s clearly intent on “playing”, she wouldn’t just leave.  Leaving the door ajar was obviously a ruse. She’s probably still lurking inside somewhere, her hand clamped over her mouth to keep from howling with delight at her own cleverness. I shut the door as loudly as I can, and immediately hear movement from upstairs. It’s on now motherfucker.

 

I position myself behind the recliner just as the distinctive creak of feet on stairs reaches my ears. It ceases as she reaches the landing and resumes as she descends the second flight. Sang creeps into the living room soon after, wearing a positively infuriating smirk as she creeps over to the back door and locks it. I stand up from my hiding place.

 

“I suppose you think that was terribly clever?”

 

Sang’s grin disappears like a fart in the wind as she whips around to face me.

 

“You tricked me!”

 

The hypocrisy of that statement is obviously lost on her, so I don’t bother to point it out. I just advance on her, coiled like a spring, ready to block any attempt on her part to evade me. I’m expecting her to try and flee past me into the house, but instead she turns back to the door and tries to get it back open, leaving her backside exposed. Her plump, perky, hot-pants clad backside. Just sitting there, defenseless…

 

*CRACK*

 

“AHH~”

 

I’ve never thought of myself as a particularly violent person, but for some reason I find myself smacking her across the ass as hard as I can. Sang jumps a foot into the air with a cry of pain and surprise, the fur on her tails standing on end. She sits perfectly still for a moment, probably in shock over what I just did to her, then slowly turns to face me. The apology I was formulating dies on my lips when I see the trembling, half-crazed smile she’s wearing.

 

“Is that all you’ve got? Pathetic.”

 

*CRACK*

 

I give her another slap on the behind without even thinking. She cries out even louder this time.

 

“My my, I think I feel a draft.”

 

*SWACK*

 

She moans erotically at the next stroke, and her knees start shaking.

 

“Oh come on, you’re not even trying! Look, I’ll even give you a handicap.”

 

Her shorts drop to the floor, followed by a noticeably wet pair of panties. She rests against the wall and thrusts her lightly reddened buttocks out at me.

 

“There. Now let’s see you put some effort into it.”

 

Something about the fact that she’s getting off on this makes me even madder. I grab one of her tails for leverage and give her newly exposed rear the most vicious slap yet. The noise resounds like a gunshot and leaves a perfect imprint of my hand in neon red on the left cheek. I don’t give her the chance to mouth off to me again; I give her other cheek a matching handprint before the left cheek has even stopped jiggling. The patter of liquid hitting the floor tells me that the extra abuse has gotten her as wet as she’s ever been. The cloying smell of her arousal reaches my nose, and I realize for the first time since I started hitting her that I’ve got a raging erection. Well, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what to do with these two things.

 

I give her one last smack, then step back and free my cock. Sang looks over her shoulder, a defiant grin on her face in spite of the tears pooling up in the corners of her eyes, and gives her ass a meaningful shake. I step back up to her and bring my hands onto her hips with far more force than necessary, coaxing another perverse groan from her. The little tart doesn’t even bother to disguise her arousal. She leans against me, tails coiling tightly around my waist, soaked vulva squishing noisily as she rubs herself all over me. I give her another spank to remind her who’s in charge, but for once she manages to muscle through it, continuing to smear me with stringy lubricant. Irritated, I lean forward, grab a fistful of her hair, and tug. That stops her whorish grinding, but unfortunately it also sets her talking again.

 

“Ngh! M-my little sister used to pull my hair harder than that!”

 

The renewed chatter coming out of the slutty kitsune grates on my nerves and redoubles my desire to humiliate her as much as I can. I slide my prick in between her slicked thighs and let her resume her grinding. Too turned on to question my sudden change in attitude, she leaps on the opportunity to continue rubbing against me, urging me to penetrate her sodden pussy with everything but words, oblivious to what I’m actually planning to do to her. She’s opening her mouth again, probably to ask what’s taking me so long, when I slip my member from between her legs and plunge it into her virgin anus. She screeches like a banshee as I force my way into her tightly clenched hole, then draws a hissing breath through her teeth and starts murmuring curses under her breath.

 

“You PERVERT! You filthy, dirty, depraved, degenerate PER-“

 

*CRACK*

 

I don’t have the patience to listen to her vent her frustrations over this turn of events. She’s overreacting anyway; I’m barely halfway into her. The copious amount of feminine fluid she leaked onto my cock made the entry easy enough, but now I’m meeting some rather pleasurable resistance as the thick ring of muscle squeezes me with incredible force. Shudders wrack her entire body as she struggles to accommodate the intruder at her back door. I render such efforts moot by starting to slide into her. Her tails start flailing wildly, curling around my arms, her legs, and everything else in reach in a futile effort to steady herself. She starts making some progress in relaxing just as I bottom out into her yielding interior. A little too much progress actually.It was more pleasurable when I was fighting for every inch.

 

I shore up my grip on her hair and pull again, harder this time, lest I be compared to her little sister again. She arches her back, a moan of masochistic delight escaping her throat. Her asshole seizes up again at the sudden pain, sucking and squeezing my dick like she’s trying to tear it off. I begin thrusting again, savoring the dichotomy between her manically clinging anus and the velvety softness of her innards. She starts to relax again, but a fresh swat reverses any progress she makes. I develop a steady rhythm, ruthlessly violating her bum and punctuating each thrust with a vicious spank that sends a wave rippling across her voluptuous behind. The amalgam of pleasure and pain coursing through her turns her grunting and groaning into open moaning, then into nonsensical gasps and coos as she starts to lose her grip on her higher faculties. She pushes herself up on her tiptoes and her head lolls low, though her large vulpine ears remain pointed back toward me, taking in the wet slap of my sack striking her sodden pussy with each thrust.

 

“Hawderrrrr!” she slurs, looking over her shoulder at me, teary-eyed. “Deeper! Break me!”

 

Can’t really say no to a request like that. I repurpose my handhold on her hair, using it to pull her toward me in time with my thrusts. Any other thoughts she may have had on the matter are preempted by a strangled yowl as she finally reaches her climax. Fragrant femspunk starts spraying onto me from her neglected sex. Good for her, but I’m not done yet. She continues squirting and crying out while I piston in and out of her twitching anus, caught in an extended orgasm. Her tails, now damp and frizzy with sweat, stand straight up then hang limp, catching stray droplets of her agonized release as it pools around our feet. She heaves herself away from the wall and twists around to plant a needy kiss on my lips. The pleasant feeling of her pebbly tongue intertwining with mine is just enough for me to catch up to her. She whimpers into my mouth at the sensation of my spunk basting her guts, clenching at each spurt, sucking her reward deeper into her belly.

 

“That was…gods that was just the BEST” she says breathlessly after she finally breaks the kiss. “Why did we wait so long to do this?”

 

“Because you waited so long to pull an april fool’s joke that set the record for senselessly elaborate and mean-spirited pranks?”

 

“Oh yeah that’s probably it.” Her ears droop a bit at the realization that I’m still cross with her. “Would you mind carrying me to bed? I really don’t think I can walk right now.”

 

She hooks an arm around my neck for support and shakily decouples, letting out a soft sigh as my length slides out of her. I carefully put my arms underneath her and lift her off the ground. The once smug and derisive fox clings tightly to me and buries her face in my neck as I carry her up the stairs, her usually cheeky attitude replaced by a demure warmth I’ve never seen from her before. Which abruptly disappears when I set her down on the bed.

 

“OWWW FACE-DOWN FACE-DOWN THAT HURTS!”

 

I unceremoniously flip her off of her abused buttocks and onto her stomach. Her rear is glowing like Rudolph’s nose, but now that she’s lying on her belly it seems to be the farthest thing from her mind. She’s back in cling-and-cuddle mode promptly, tugging at my sleeve imploringly, crimson tails swishing side to side like an excited puppy’s.

 

“Lay with me. We can clean up later.”

 

I concede to her request without any resistance, partly because I just don’t feel like mopping the floor after the night I’ve just had and partly because I’m fascinated by her new demeanor and I don’t want to quash it. Wordlessly, she wraps both arms around me, followed by one leg, followed by three tails. She’s sleeping soundly in seconds, her fuzzy, oversized ears giving an occasional twitch and tickling my chin. Trapped as I am by the multitude of limbs wrapped around me, I have little choice but to join her.

 

—

 

*Ding-Dong*

 

Sang and I share a glance at the sound of the doorbell. She doesn’t budge from where she’s lying belly-down on the couch. Days later and she still can’t sit down. She cocks an eyebrow from behind her reading glasses in a show of mock-curiosity.

 

“You gonna get that?”

 

I do my best to convey utter contempt and exasperation as I haul myself out of my seat. She’s back to her usual teasing, lazy self. I ought to start spanking her every day. Keep her sweet and cuddly all the time.

 

There’s no one at the door, just a large fed-ex package bearing my name. Funny, I don’t remember ordering anything from “stockroom.com”. I give the box an experimental heft. It’s heavy as hell. Takes both hands to get it inside. What the hell is in there?

 

“Sang, did you order anything online recently?” I call to her while I fish around in my pocket for something to cut the box open with.

 

“Yep!”

 

“Anything in particular?”

 

“Oh just a little bit of this and that!”

 

Yeah that’s REAL helpful. I decide to just open the box without her and start cutting into the packing tape with my keys. A neatly folded packing list in a sea of foam peanuts greets me as I lift the lid. Let’s see here…

(1) Monoglove armbinder, black

(1) Pair ballet boots, black

(1) Striker™ walnut wood paddle, perforated

(2)     Bundles nylon rope, 8 feet ea.

(2) Pairs crotchless panties, scarlet

(1) Silk eyemask, scarlet

(2) Quarts Everwet™ personal lubricant, lemon flavor

 

Kinda just goes on from there. My interest in the items on the sheet is rather muted however, by the dollar sign and the three-digit number at the bottom of it.

 

“FOUR HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN FRIGGIN DOLLARS!?!??!”

 

A familiar cascade of hysterics echoes in my ears as I storm back to the living room.

 

“WHERE DO YOU GET OFF SPENDING THAT MU-“

 

My train of thought is completely derailed by the sight that greets me on my return to the living room. Sang is on her knees on the floor, wearing nothing but her socks and a glassy-eyed grin.