Under the Tail and Other Stories
Copyright© 2026 by Dragonpig
Chapter 46: Don’t Leave Me
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 46: Don’t Leave Me - Hello, everybody! This is Dragonpig. I'm going to be writing a collection of stories within the anthropomorphic, or furry, genre. Some will be short stories, some will be novel-length, and others will fall somewhere in between. Yes, some of these stories will be quite explicit, while others won't be. I'm going to keep this series going until I either get bored or find that people just aren't interested in it. I'd really enjoy hearing your opinions and thoughts on my writing. Have a good one!
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Consensual Romantic Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Fairy Tale Humor Vignettes War Zoophilia Science Fiction Aliens Alternate History Space Furry Sharing Incest Mother Son Brother Sister DomSub FemaleDom Light Bond Harem Polygamy/Polyamory White Male White Female Anal Sex Analingus Bestiality Exhibitionism Fisting Flatulence Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Safe Sex Squirting Water Sports Big Breasts Public Sex Teacher/Student Nudism
My face is pressed into the pillows, my ass raised, my tail to the side as my son pounds into me from behind. Days ago, this would have shamed me. Now my white fur is damp with sweat, and I’m rubbing my sensitive clit with one hand, moaning as another orgasm builds while his magnificent cock claims my pussy. I’ve gotten used to it. God help me. The coarse brown and white fur of his thighs brushes against the backs of my legs with every demanding thrust.
How did I end up like this? Three days ago, I was yelling at my latest boyfriend. He has a drinking problem and a short temper. Same old shit. We fight, he hits me, I leave. This time was different, though. When I showed up at Junior’s apartment, crying my eyes out with a black eye forming and my mascara running, he just let me in like usual. His long tail twitching.
He stood aside and pointed to the kitchen table. “Take a seat, Mom,” he said, his voice flat. I sat down at the wooden kitchen table, my hands twisting in my blue skirt. He poured me a cup of coffee the way I like it, with a lot of sugar. He sat opposite me, his large, expressive round mousy ears rigid, just watching me and saying nothing until I finished.
“Mom,” he said finally, his dark and expressive eyes fixed on my face. “I love you, but I won’t keep doing this. Every time you get into trouble with your latest partner, you come running back here.”
“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” I replied meekly. “It’s just ... I thought it would be different this time.”
“Mom, you always say that,” Junior said, his voice matter-of-fact. “I’ll let you stay. But there’s a new condition.”
“Anything, honey, anything at all.”
“If you’re gonna live here, you’re gonna give me some pussy.”
I felt like I’d been slapped. “Junior, that’s ... that’s disgusting. I’m your mother.”
“Then find somewhere else to stay,” he said, standing up and gesturing toward the door. His tail thumped against the chair back.
Panic seized me. Where would I go? Back to the man who’d just hit me? To some shelter? I was thirty-five, still pretty damn attractive with my white fur and blue eyes, but no job, no money, nothing but the clothes on my back and a son who wanted my tail.
“Okay,” I replied, my voice small. “If that’s the price, I’ll do it.”
That first night was awkward and embarrassing. He asked me to undress while he watched, his eyes hungry, starting at my rounded ears, embarrassed face, large breasts, plump pussy, and curvy ass, and nervously flicking tail, down to my red-painted, pedicured toes. When he finally touched me, I started to pull away. But then something shifted. As his hands roamed my body, as his mouth found my stiffening pink nipples, a traitorous warmth spread through me. When he laid me down on his couch and entered me without a condom, another condition he’d set, I was surprised to find myself already wet.
By the second day, I was naked all the time like he wanted. By the third day, I was eagerly participating. Now, here I am, pushing back for more as he fucks my pussy on the bed that we share. Thinking how twisted and wrong this is, but also how goddamn good it feels. All those men and women I’ve been with through the years, and it’s my own son who is making me come.
A week later, I’m kneeling in front of the toilet, puking my guts out for the third morning in a row. My tits are tender, and I’ve been so tired I could sleep for a week. My nose is extra sensitive, the smell of Pine-Sol and coffee in the apartment making my stomach queasy. I know what this is. I’ve been pregnant twice before.
I go to the neighborhood grocery store. I buy a pregnancy test, my hands shaking as I make awkward conversation with the female raccoon cashier. Back in Junior’s bathroom, I pee on the stick and wait the longest three minutes of my life. Two pink lines. Positive.
When Junior comes home from his construction job, I’m sitting on the couch, naked as usual, the test stick in my hand. He walks in, dirty and sweaty, his gray work coveralls rumpled, and pauses when he sees my expression. His long tail, usually flicking with energy, hangs still.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” he asks, his whiskers twitching.
I throw the test at him. “You happy now, asshole? You’re a father.”
He catches the test, and a slow smirk spreads across his handsome face. “Well now,” he says, his voice pleased. “Looks like you are a mommy again.”
I burst into tears, all the shame and anger and fear pouring out of me. “I hate you,” I sob. “I hate you for doing this to me.”
He crosses the room in three strides and pulls me up from the couch and against his chest. I struggle at first, but then I’m just crying against him. He holds me, stroking my back, and then he’s kissing me. I kiss back, tasting my own tears and his smugness.
“Let’s go to bed. Mom, I want you.”
I stood outside of his house, holding the key. I told myself to go in, get my stuff, and leave.
The place was the same. Dark carpeting. The portrait of two bunny women going down on each other in a grassy field. The chemical fruity smell of the cleaner he preferred. My ears stayed flat. The bruise on my face had faded to a dull yellow-green under my white fur, but I could still feel it when I moved my jaw.
I shut the door behind me.
The living room was dim. A light was on in the back of the house. I heard kissing. Feminine laughter, his king-size bed frame creaking. I walked toward the bedroom and froze.
He was on the bed with a mouse woman. Gray-brown furred, cute, tail lying along the red sheets. Both of them naked. His mouth pressed against her huge breast. Her fingers were buried in the thick black fur on his back.
The woman saw me first. She made a sharp cry and pushed at his shoulder.
“Billy, someone’s here!”
He stopped sucking on the woman’s nipple.
“What the hell, Sally.”
“I came for my stuff,” I said. My voice sounded pissy. My tail had gone rigid behind me.
“You could’ve knocked.”
“I still have a key.”
I walked past the bed to the closet without looking at either of them. My tail lashing while I pulled shirts and dresses off hangers and shoved them into the bag I’d brought. My favorite pair of strappy sandals from the closet. The comfortable large shirt I slept in. I left the drawers half open. I didn’t take anything that might have been his.
When I finished, he was standing in the bedroom doorway.
“You look like shit,” he said, nodding at my face.
“Yeah, that happens when you hit me.”
I stepped past him. At the front door I dropped his key on the little table by the wall and left.
By the seventh month I was always cold or always too warm, and my back ached in a way that made standing feel like a punishment. My belly was heavy. The white fur over it had stretched tight. I moved slower. I hated how awkward I’d become.
Junior came home from the construction site smelling like sweat. I was already on the couch, one hand under the curve of my stomach, feeling the baby kick, the other fidgeting with the TV remote.
“You’re late,” I snapped and heard how sharp it came out. I tried again. “I mean ... I was waiting.”
He set his thermos on the coffee table and looked at me. His ears tilted. His long tail flicked once.
“Had an opportunity to work overtime. You know, got to bring more money into the home. We have a baby on the way.”
I held my arms out. “Hold me. Please.”
He sat down beside me. I climbed into his lap, feeling fat, and pressed my face into the fur of his neck. His arms closed around me. I made a small, contented sound.
“I feel huge,” I whined. “I don’t know why you want me. I find myself being cranky. I keep thinking about ... everything. About the lie. About how people look at me.”
“You’re fine,” he said against my ear. His hand moved slow circles on my back.
“I’m not fine. I’m needy and I’m always horny and I want you to hold me and I am worried about our baby.” My tail curled tight around his forearm. “Promise you won’t leave me like your father did.”
He held me until my emotions evened out, until the ache in my back eased a little.
I saw them from the kitchen window.
As I finished washing the dishes, Junior was in the parking lot, working on his truck, talking to a female rabbit from next door. Young. Sleek brown fur. Wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of shorts that barely covered her ass, cottontail on full display. Her ears were up, interested. She laughed at something he said, giving her an excuse to touch his muscular arm.
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