FSE

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The Carnival has hit full swing in the streets of the City of Requited Love. The newest festivities are rides and attractions that amaze, excite, and titillate.

“Oooh, I’m so excited!” the short cervine lady says, her hooves shaking and tail twitching. The blindfold her hubby got for her keeping their ultimate destination a surprise. However, she smells the grease, and the sounds of the grinding of the metal hint to her something she might love.

“Just wait a minute, Lerato, dear,” says her male counterpart, holding onto her mechanical glove and leading her with their hooves clopping through the street. “Here you go, my poem,” he says, swishing the blindfold off her. “The perfect ride for the two of us on this hectic day.”

“Lovemore…” Lerato says, staring up at the attraction before them. “Here, I thought we would try out the roller coaster, the big wheel, or something. This is… a dark ride?”

“A slow ride, Lerato!” Lovemore says, fluttering his big eyes.

“An… intimate ride?” Lerato says, biting her lip.

Lovemore nods his ascent.

The two skip around each other, giggling gleefully before they clasp hand in hoof and move up to the line.

The ride operator is one of the masked carnival workers dressed in elaborate frills. They place a hand to their heart and bow before the two newcomers. “Welcome, welcome to the Tunnel of Terror. Who knows what frights hide in the water? Let the mystery build the excitement in your minds as you face your fears inside the tunnel!”

“It looks so spooky,” Lerato says, hopping up on the platform next to the boat.

“Truly, there can’t be anything too terrifying here, my dear,” Lovemore says, following her with a more careful step. “Not after all our adventures together.”

Lerato rolls her eyes and slips into one of the two seats in the little heart-shaped boat. She pats the space next to her, fluttering her eyes. “You sure you’re not scared, Lovey-dovey?”

Lovemore adjusts his glasses between two hooves and slips on into the seat next to his companion. “My, this is a bit snug.”

“All the better to hold close to your loved ones when you face the spooks of the sea.” Says the operator, wiggling their fingers.

“Spooks or not, let’s go!” Lerato says, tapping the fingers of her mech glove on the side of the boat.

“Please keep your hands in the vehicle at all times, madam.” The operator says before pulling the lever, which unlocks their boat, sending it flowing down the gently running river.

A moment later, the two deer are whisked off into the darkness.

“So, dear deer,” Lovemore says, leaning in and whispering into Lerato’s ear. “How long do you suppose this ride is?”

Lerato turns away from Lovemore, gripping the side of the boat and watching with wide eyes as a mechanical ghoul pops out from the side, letting out an ethereal groan.

“Look at that! Pure entertainment and artistry in such a simple design!”

Lovemore sighs and sits back, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing his cheeks.

Steam hisses out against them, water sprays over them, and various ghosts and monsters appear out of nowhere.

There comes a moment, though, when the water underneath their boat disappears, and the two go into a freefall, down, down, down. Both scream, clutching onto each other as the nose of their little craft points downward before it splashes them, soaking their hair and clothes.

Despite the harrowing experience, or rather, because of it, the two cling to one another, chest pressed to chest, their racing heartbeats in sync with one another as their small vessel chugs its way onward through the dark path.

There could have been more frights throughout the ride, but the two do not notice. That was when the ride clicks, and they turn their attention away from the experience they paid for and towards the experience they came for. The two rub their noses together, holding onto each other’s shaking and startled bodies. They rub cheeks, their tears staining each other’s fur. With little cooing squeaks, the two tiny deer move hands over each other, and soon they lock lips together.

Soon, they pull away and Lerato licks Lovemore’s cheek, a sultry gaze upon her eye. “If I were designing this ride, I would make it so we’re near the end here.”

“Y-yeah, that makes sense.”

“But you know what? I don’t think you’re ready for this ride to end,” she says, nuzzling against his neck.

His eyes flutter, and he sighs. “N-no, my love.”

“Wanna hop out of this boat and take a closer look at what goes on in the Tunnel of Terror?”

He smirks, squeezing her tighter. “Mmm, I wouldn’t mind peeking through the veil of horror to find the truth I was not meant to know.”

“Oh, believe me,” Lerato says, hopping out of her seat, holding out her hand, “You already know what depths you’ll be plumbing, hubby bunny.”

With a happy little squeak, Lovemore hops out of the boat, the two leaving their transport behind in the dark river as they make their way through the maintenance and operator passageways.

Meanwhile, the boat chugs along its given path, passing through a magical field before turning off back into the docking station. There, the operator stands, watching through with covered eyes, gripping tightly to the lever.

________________

Stifled giggles and the clopping of hooves breach the darkness of the so-called “Tunnel of Terror.” The old mill ride has already supplied the two Dik-Dik turtledoves with a bit of a thrill. The two scamper through the darkness on their own, hiding in a little corner by one of the displays.

In this scene, one that they had passed with little attention thanks to the heart-pounding drop that had immediately preceded it, a skeleton propped up by wires and mechanisms tips a hat to passengers, his grim smile a reminder of the fate that all who tread upon this world shall one day join him in the eternal ride to oblivion.

Of course, the two are much more interested in the mechanics that animate his spooky and scary salutations.

Lovemore places his lover up against the pole that houses the whirring motors, peppering her face with little kisses from her cheek to her nose to her lips.

Lerato lets her mechanical fingers weave through Lovemore’s straight locks, giggling and returning the favor with peppered pecks of her own.

There comes the sound of muttered screams from earlier in the ride, and Lovemore, his eyes flashing behind his glasses, chuckles a bit. “If we get caught, we could be kicked out of the carnival.” He says this, taking a hoof to boop her on the nose.

“If we get caught,” she says, biting her lip. “We could get arrested.”

“Ah, the eternal contradiction of Anteronia,” laments Lovemore, his hand sliding down over her shoulder and down her side. “To be so enamored with showing love to one another and yet to chastise those who wish to seek to express it to one another. Speaking of which,” he says, licking his lips. “I wish to show my appreciation of you right here and now, my dear.”

He grips at her hips, tugging at her pants, but Lerato pats his head, waving a finger at him. “Nuh-uh: we don’t have time for that.”

“Shucks…” he sighs. “You sure?”

To answer his question, a boat careens down the path, splashing with a screaming couple and striking the skeleton, who cackles and crackles.

“Can’t believe this automaton is still going,” she says. “It’s got such water damage.”

Lerato pats the pillar behind her, but Lovemore huffs and gets down onto his knees. “Time or not, I’m doing it.”

“Lovemo-aaah! Oooh…” Lerato’s original objections melt away. In the swiftness afforded to all of the fast runners of the animal kingdom, Lovemore has his soulmate’s pants down around her knees and his face promptly up against her folds. He knows exactly where to put his nose to rub against her sensitive areas. He knows just how to work his tongue against her lips. He knows exactly the kissing, motions, and suckings that make her squeal.

And squeal, she does. Lerato presses her back against the pillar, wrapping her legs around her lover’s shoulders, practically sitting on him as her hands weave through his hair, urging him to not let go, avoiding his sensitive horns.

The Dik-Dik lady sighs and scratches the mechanism with her own antlers, letting out squeaking gasps of delight as he continues his appreciation of her body and her reactions. When another boat crashes into the waters, the passenger’s screams drown out her own sounds. One of the riders catches a glance of something unknown behind the boney display, not making a conscious decision to acknowledge the two.

Lerato looks down at him, breathing heavily, one eye less open than the other as she continues huffing and puffing at higher and higher octaves.

As usual, his eyes look up to match her own, the love that sparkles in those almost doe-like eyes catch her own delighted glance, despite having knocked his glasses askew in the achievement of her current state of euphoria.

“Luh… Luh-uuv!?” she gushes, placing a hand on the back of his head.

He returns her enthusiastic question with an equally excited answer, squeezing her thighs and delving into her with renewed vigor, not increasing the intensity but maintaining the course. The entire time, he had given her exactly what she wanted when she wanted it, and he did it as he had done so many times before.

Discretion be damned, the two horny deer are reaching Lerato’s climax with an explosive finale, as the thrill of orgasm shoots through every fiber of her being, from the contractions in her core to the screams of professions of satisfaction to the burst of energy and wonderful delight in her mind.

She falls, but she is carrying her as she did when they crossed the threshold of matrimony. He stands and nuzzles her cheek.

“You dumbass…” she sighs, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulls him in and snuggles against his cheek. “How am I supposed to return the favor?” She then pinches the arm of his spectacles and adjusts them to be straight on his nose once again.

“I can think of a few ways,” he says, letting his sex-stained smile spread across his face.

Lerato’s own smile disappears a moment afterward as she sniffs. “Hey, do you smell that?”

Lovemore frowns. “N-no, sorry,” he says, snorting. “Only smell the best scent in the world, my dear. I-magic!”

Suddenly, the two yelp as a bony arm sweeps them both up, the animatronic pinning them against its ribcage. It stands up, placing its hat upon its head, and completes the embrace, squeezing the two together.

In the corridors steps the gaudily dressed ride operator, hands behind their back, tilting their masked face from side to side. A couple amorous miscreants. I’m sure the supervisor would love to have some words with you after you’ve pulled this stunt.”

________________

The animatronic skeleton marches through the Tunnel of Terror's dark corridors, following the ride operator's flamboyant bell-jingling steps.

Lovemore struggles against the grip of the automaton. Lerato’s ears wiggle and eyes light up as she glances over the whole automaton.

“It’s a work of art, this one. Looks just like a skeleton, and it’s all mechanical!”

“Nngh, I’m sure, dear,” Lovemore responds, “that there are magical workings to make up for the shortcomings in mundane locomotion,” he says. “But we have other things to worry about, surely.”

“Who’s worried?”

The ride operator stops, motioning to the door behind them, which reads “Ride Supervisor Hunter.” “Oh, you should be worried, escaping from us like you have to play hanky panky in the park.”

“Escape?”

The masked worker knocks on the door and proclaims. “Boss, the delinquents are here. Shall I bring ‘em in?”

A low, rumbling growl rises up from the other side. “It’s too damn early to be botherin’ me with this shit.”

“They’ve gone off the program, boss.”

“Guuh, fine, send them in! But don’t let that skeleton track water on my floor again. Fuck’s sake.”

The two dik-diks look at each other with smirks, tapping their hooves to a beat only the two know. They know the escape plan; they’ve practiced it many times.

Of course, they don’t expect the skeleton to just yeet them into the open doorway that is immediately shut behind them.

The two lovers tumble and roll and crash into the wall of the office, dazed and dizzy.

Sitting at a makeshift desk at the temporary office is a feline figure, a caracal with fuzzy paws rubbing eyebrows, and a steaming cup of coffee piping on the desk. “Okay, now what the hell do we have here? Why are you two trespassing?

Lovemore hops up to his hooves, standing between the taller feline and his dearly beloved, a determined glance up at the figure before him. “You’ll not lay a hand upon my Lerato, you thug.”

“Huh?” The cat says, picking up his coffee and sipping it. He winces and puts it back down. “Fuckin’ cheapskates. It’s the burnt shit. Look, you two look like you’re not just some random customers. You got some,” he waves his paw, his whiskers twitching. “Oomph to ya. So, let’s get to the point here—what are you really doing here?”

Lerato stands up, adjusting her skirt for the first time since their little tryst. “What are we doing? The question is, what are you doing?”

“Dear!” Lovemore snaps.

“No, wait just a minute here. We weren’t harming anyone, and we weren’t planning on doing anything to your ride. I just needed to have my brains fucked out by my hubby. Is that a crime?” She says this, standing behind Lovemore and rubbing his shoulders.

The supervisor leans back, tapping his claws on the table. “Look, lady, I just do what the park tells me, yeah? I ensure the workers are at their posts and that no one’s causin’ trouble for anyone. I don’t know and don’t care why they do them scryin’ shit on people leaving the tunnel. Tryin’ to sell information on what spooks people the most in the tunnel, I don’t give a fuck.”

The two deer look to each other, quirking brows before turning back toward the caracal.

Lovemore relaxes but still stands between his wife and the cat, his eyes never leaving the taller male’s. “Well, perhaps I can propose a solution for all three of us? If you let me and Lerato go, then we shall leave your ride, and you can be on your way, taking whatever telemetry you desire.” He says this, placing a hoof upon his chest.

“Nothin’ doin’,” the manager says, standing up, his tie is loose, and there are a few stains on his shirt from a previous, if better brewed, drink. “It’s my job on the line, I hope you understand, so I’m going to have to insist that you compensate for the ride properly.”

“By letting a ride scan me with magic? No chance!” Lovemore snaps. “I did not consent to such a thing!”

“Now, now,” Lerato says, stepping up beside Lovemore, a glove on his chest. “Let’s not get too hasty here: I think there are alternatives. After all, we are in Anteronia, aren’t we?”

Lovemore’s eyes widen, and he shrinks slightly. “You-you can’t be serious.”

The caracal blinks, and his eyes widen, looking from one short deer to the other. “W… wait, you two horny bastards want to—naw, can’t be.” He says, his eyes latching onto Lovemore’s. “This is a trick, obviously.”

Lerato taps his hoof with hers, and Lovemore bites his lip, looking downward. “Dearest… with a stranger, really?”

“Lerato chuckles, tilting her head toward the manager. “Why not, unless you want me to do all the work.”

“Absolutely not!” he snaps. “I am not going to sell my dignity nor my body. No matter how handsome our current obstacle is.”

“Hey, hey,” the manager says, stepping up from around the table. “Listen, you two. I don’t want no tricks, alright? You can’t trust me, and I can’t trust you, but…” he runs a hand up over his head, letting his ears spring back up to place. “Fuck, if I haven’t had a good fuck here in this fuckin’ city, you get me?”

“Oh, well, sir….” Lerato says, pulling Lovemore in so their cheeks are up together. She nudges him with a horn.

Lovemore takes a deep breath and smiles up at him. “You’ll find we’re quite eager to please when the right motivation is applied.”

________________

The caracal manager watches the two tiny deer looking up at him with doe eyes. They stand next to each other, cheek to cheek, hands pressed against one another, fluttering their lashes.

The feline adjusts his collar, gulping. Dammit, why do all the half-pints have to be the horny ones?” he laments, sitting back on his desk. The makeshift thing creaks gently under his weight, but he spreads his legs gently, a hand on one knee and fingers curling to beckon his captives guests closer. “Well, if you’re gonna show me whatcha got, come show me whatcha got!”

Lerato is the first to step up, letting her mechanical glove ride along his thigh. Lovemore follows, trailing a hooved hand up along the other one.

“Khakis aren’t exactly what I consider proper attire for someone ready to party,” Lerato says, her eyes half-lidded. “Wouldn’t you agree, hubby?”

“Oh, my dear, it’s far too formal for our attempts at bribery.”

The two of them reach up on either side of the manager's pants, Lerato hooking her fingers in one side and Lovemore pinching the other.

“Are you ready, mister supervisor?” Lerato says, batting her eyes.

“We certainly are,” Lovemore adds.

The caracal’s hands shake as he lifts them, breathing heavily out of his nose as he reaches down between his legs. With trembling fingers, his paws work on the button, undoing it after a few fumbled missteps.

He hardly gets a chance to reach for his zipper when the deer yank down his pants, tugging his undergarments along with them.

A big, red, meaty thing springs up between his legs, quivering and high, with barbs protruding from it.

The supervisor bites his lips, exhaling long out his nose. His tail swishes back and forth, intent and ready to pounce at a moment’s notice, but he moves his hands back to the table, claws scratching against the wood.

Lerato looks to her lover, and Lovemore takes a deep breath, leaning in, his hoof resting upon the feline’s thigh. He presses his mouth against the base on one side of the cock, giving a gentle, suckling kiss upon the shaft.

“Ah!?”

Lerato chuckles as she follows suit, pressing her lips upon the opposite side.

“Oh, fuck me…” the cat says, tapping his claws on the table.

The two dik-diks look at one another, sparkling appreciation in their eyes. They slide their free hands down along the feline’s legs, pressing their hands together, lacing fingers with hooves.

Together, they slide their tongues up along that shaft, slowly dragging along the length, letting the wet muscles moisten the cock with the precision and strategy of two well-seasoned sluts.

Soon, they flick against the cockhead in unison, their tongues coming together. They close their eyes and turn their heads together, locking lips right above the thing.

“D… damn it all…” the caracal whines. “What’d I do to deserve this.” He leans in, reaching out for Lovemore’s head, but the male dips back away from his grasp, biting his lip, which turns up in a soft grin.

He reaches down and grips his shirt, lifting it up over his head. His garments have been hiding a body as well-maintained as his mind, and he tosses the top aside before he steps right back up.

The supervisor gropes for Lerato, but she takes a step back, bending down and hooking her fingers at her pants, stepping out of them, and then lifting her own shirt up with a swiftness that betrays her eagerness.

Lovemore rests the cock against his hand, licking up and down along the length. Lerato walks up behind the deer, naked, save for her footgear and her underthings. She massages her hubby’s shoulders, kissing him on the shoulder. The cheek whispers sweet encouragements into his ear that the supervisor cannot understand.

The caracal watches the two work, one eye closing gently as he reaches up, letting his paw go for Lovemore’s head. “D… did not think… a … a deer… w... Would be su-sucking my Di-uh, Dick!”

“Dik-Dik,” Lerato corrects him, sliding aside and letting her breasts against his thigh. She leans in and kisses the fuzzy balls of the supervisor, rubbing her nose against him and letting out sweet little coos.

Meanwhile, Lovemore envelopes the cockhead in his mouth, bobbing down gently as his tongue lashes against the sensitive tip.

The supervisor presses his palm down against Lovemore’s head, pushing him further along that shaft, giving Lerato the sight of his throat bulging with cock.

She gasps and squeezes her lover, pressing a kiss upon his arm. “Oh, loveydove! Look at you! Are you enjoying that kitty cat cock!?”

The supervisor grits his teeth, leaning his head back. “Nngh… I know I’m… ngh... Fucking loving… this gay boy’s mouth.”

Lovemore flashes a glare up at him and Lerato frowns.

The male deer pulls his mouth back with a slurp and wipes his chin with his arm, holding the cat’s cock between his other hooves. “I am not gay, good sir! I am decidedly bisexual. That’s something I think you can appreciate.”

“H-huh?” The caracal breaks out of a trance, only to see Lerato standing at the door, one hand on the wall and the other pulling down her undergarments. Her tight, pink pussy glistens with sticky glee. “I didn’t quite get enough cock at the tunnel, gentlemen. Now, which of you two wants to fuck me?”

The caracal blinks and looks to Lovemore. Lovemore smirks and looks at him. “Oh, how will we decide, mister big and strong cat? Think you’re man enough to fuck my wife?” He says this, sliding his hooves over the cock and stepping up to the wall himself, where he places a hand upon the doorway as well, sticking out his butt. “Or, would you rather put it in me?”

“No fair!” Lerato whines.

Lovemore kisses her, and her whine melts into a sigh of delight as tongue dances against the tongue.

________________

Two lovely dik-diks stand with their hands and hooves against the wall, their mouths locked in the dance of delight between one another. They wiggle their butts, sticking out their asses and twisting their tails to entice the old and tired caracal watching them with his pants pulled down to his knees.

“The City of Requited Love, my ass,” the feline says, tugging his khakis down the rest of the way. When he steps up to the two, he chooses between those two lovely butts. One of them holds dripping sex, small and tight. The other has plump, almost heart-shaped balls with a hard and wanting cock jutting from beneath them. Both present to him the most delightful stars he’s seen. He has to rear back and bite his lips as he stares at the glorious booty before him.

The deer couple pulls their mouths apart, their spit trailing between the two as they gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes. Lerato licks her lips and looks over her shoulder at the third in their little party. “Come on, stud, I thought you wanted us to pay for our transgressions against the carnival?”

Lovemore slurps up his wife’s saliva and looks towards the caracal. “Or, are you more down to party than we thought for an overworked and overtired middle manager?”

The supervisor narrows his eyes, stepping up to the two. He claps their cheeks and squeezes, leaning in between them. “The hell did you say to me?”

Lerato rolls her eyes back, arching gently. “Ooh, I think what my hubby is saying is that you’re in way too boring of a life to do anything fun like fuck us.”

“You read my mind, my dear.”

The feline’s claws grip the two prey animals’ flanks, a growl rising from his throat as he pulls back his lips, revealing his sharp predator teeth. “You two don’t know who the fuck you’re talkin’ to. My ancestors were the hunters for kings: We were fuckin’ royalty and fuckin’ royalty.” He chuckles at his pun.

“And here you are, working a nine-to-five,” Lerato says, winking.

“Quite a departure from your glorious beginnings, my friend.” Lovemore concurs.

Hunter snarls, standing up and squeezing the two deer together. “Oh, you two think you’re funny, riling me up, thinkin’ you can escape the consequences. Well, guess the fuck what? You can’t!” He slips both hands up to his mouth, running his fingers over his lips. Once lathered up, he slips those hands down to his short companions.

Two fingers find their way down to Lerato, trailing down her crack and her taint, finding their way to her womanhood. He slides his fingers inside, twisting and spreading, then sliding even further, finding her clit.

“H… hey…” she sighs, her eyes half-lidded and partially rolled back. She leans her forehead against the door. “T-this guy ain’t h-half bad.”

“H… huh!? Wait a minute here!” Lovemore protests. “You can’t just stand me up like thaa-aaah!” His eyes widen, and his mouth drops agape. This is from the two fingers that enter his boy hole, spreading and spinning around with the lubrication of feline spit to allow it to penetrate into him.

“Oh fuck, hubby… you’re so cute when you got it up your butt….” Lerato says, biting her lip.

Lovemore squeezes his mouth shut, trying to let the boyish soft moans stay inside his chest and not burst out for all the world to hear.

“So many holes, so little time,” the caracal says. “But, if the lady likes what she sees, I guess I should give her more. What do you think?” He asks this, letting his thumb play at her button as fingers delve into her. “Sorry, I only got one dick to give.”

Lerato pants, rocking her hips back against him. “Yeah,” she growls, “a big, red, barbed predator dick!”

Lovemore squeaks, the whites of his eyes only widening with each passing realization. “N-now, wuh-aahaahhn~!?” He can’t stop himself, his hooves slipping slightly from the door as the probing digits find their mark.

“Girl. On the table!” the caracal says, pulling his fingers away and slapping her on the tush.

Lerato does as she’s told, scrambling to it, facing away from him as she sits on her knees.

The manager wraps his arms around Lovemore’s chest and pulls him up against him. “You’re coming with me.”

Lovemore gulps, his heart pounding.

Lerato smirks, watching him squirm around in that mock fear of his.

“Oh, this is definitely an engineering problem,” Lerato says, lowering her front down, raising her hips up high, her legs spreading to support herself. She wiggles her tush in that alluring but uncomfortable pose.

Meanwhile, the manager shoves Lovemore under the desk, the deer’s back pressing against the wood of the thin table, his rump sticking out.

“Now, I call this service. In another life, maybe I could get action like this every day,” the cat says, licking his lips.

“Life's as exciting as you wanna make it,” Lerato says.

“Carpe Diem, friend. Carpe Diem,” adds Lovemore.

“Carpe deez nuts!” the caracal calls, grabbing his cock and slapping it against the man deer’s hole. He leans in, his free hand spreading the woman’s labia before he dives right in, his mouth pressing against her body and his tongue invading her.

Just as that warm and wriggling muscle finds its way through the delightful caverns of Lerato, his hard and ribbed member pushes through the tight and quivering hole of the boy deer underneath the table.

What follows for this supervisor is nothing short of bliss.

________________

Waking up every morning to do some temp job or the tedious everyday grind is not what Hunter ever wanted to do. But what can someone stuck in the lower classes of Anteronia ever hope to accomplish? Life is a tiresome and hum-drum affair, even in a glamorous city like this, with its promises of delights beyond imagination.

So, he resigned himself to just being one of the cogs in the machine, stuck day in and day out to just doing what he was told and exercising some control over the only ones lower than him on the pecking order.

Here, though, at this moment, he was doing something because he wanted to, and that something was two sexy short deer.

He can’t remember the last time he was muzzle deep in pussy, lapping up a lady’s juices so readily with his rough feline tongue that she can’t help but squeal out for him as he delves and wriggles and tastes.

He knows he doesn’t remember diving deep into the tight and wanting boypussy, his barbed dick getting balls deep into some dik-dik. Hells, the guy probably moans louder than his wife.

He’s no professional porn stud. He’s just some guy, no matter what bluster he throws around about his ancestors or his proud heritage. Soon, the combined efforts of the two insatiable guests make him lose it. His cock tenses up, and he fights the urge to pump in harder into the ass that is sucking his cock. He wants to hold back and ride that edge and live in that moment of delight for just a few moments longer.

But he cannot, and he groans, hilting into Lovemore’s ass, bulging the deer’s tummy.

Under that table, Lovemore fights to hold on, his eyes unfocused, his mouth and cock drooling as his arms and legs shake in the immeasurable delight of feeling of that man juice shooting up deep inside him.

Above him, his wife lies on her arms, forming a pool of spit as she rolls her eyes back.

But both of them are suddenly interrupted when the supervisor falls to his knees and then collapses back, panting, and groaning.

Lovemore is the first to get up, wobbling up and reaching a hand out to his wife from beneath the table.

Lerato grabs his hand and slips off the table, holding her hubby close and pressing her chest against his own.

“What a… ride…” she gasps, licking her lips.

“Indeed, my dear,” Lovemore agrees, his smile a little wobbly.

“I think I’m ready to take that cock of yours again.”

“Y-yeah? Right here and now?”

She nods, rubbing her hands down his side. “Your dick has a date with my tunnel of love. As for you…” she trails off, looking towards the manager. She lifts a foot up, poking a hoof against his floppy penis, picking it up, and wiggling it between her hooves. “Wakey wakey, sleepyhead.” She says, hands on her hips, leaning in on him.

The feline blinks and groans, pushing himself up to his shoulders, not even remembering how he got on the floor. “Huhn… wu-wha?”

“You’d better be ready for another go, great hunter,” the Dik-Dik girl says, hands on her hips, smirking down at him. “Or, are you saying you got less energy than a couple of prey animals?”

The caracal grumbles and growls, but the response that both deer catch is the stiffening of his dick underneath her, sliding those hooves up and down, up and down.

“My, my, Lerato, my dear,” Lovemore says, massaging her shoulders and leaning in. “I believe your teasing and administration of hoof-based pleasure is affecting him.”

“I know what guys like,” she says, stroking Lovemore’s chin with her gloved fingers. “Just like you love these babies.”

Lovemore blushes. “D-dear, not in front of the hook-up.”

She chuckles, pulls her foot away from the caracal, and instead walks up to him, spinning around to face her husband and lowering herself down. “So, how was it, taking it up the ass?”

Lovemore rubs his butt, propping his cock up with a hoof. “It was sublime if a bit sore. We may need to see a healer after this if we’re going to continue at the carnival today.”

“Heh, yeah? Well, let’s book an appointment for two, shall we?”

“The fuck you two talkin’ abou-oow!”

Without any warning, she drops her butt down, taking the cum-stained cock and letting it slide up into her ass. “Ah, fuck me!” she shouts. “This really is some great cat dick, hubby!”

She flutters her eyes, lowers her head, and licks her lips. “Of course, it isn’t my favorite dick.”

“Say no more, my dear,” Lovemore says, walking up to her. He places his hooves on her shoulders and pushes her back down, collapsing her on top of the cat, who falls against the floor with a thud.

The deer slides his dick up into the tight tunnel, sighing as he feels the embrace of his true love.

Lerato blushes gently, huffing as she rocks between two cocks. “Mmmah… n-nothing like… b… being really… really full.”

Lovemore wraps his arms around both partners, thrusting against her, nodding as he buries his face against her shoulder.

“Don’t… don’t be shy… come on and share me!” Lerato says, petting the caracal’s head.

Simply sublime. There’s no other way around it. The feeling of being inside a tiny little deer woman’s ass as her husband fills her simultaneously—how did this supervisor ever get to this position? Pumping in and out of her, he can feel the other cock moving up and down. His ears twitch at the lewd moans from her throat escape, her head lulling about, her body tensing up from all the thrusting and pumping like mechanical motion going up into her.

He is nothing more than a middle manager.

These two are freaks. Sexy, sexy freaks!

And their fate, he realizes, is still in his hands.

________________

Two men with their two cocks slap up into Lerato’s body. The small Dik-Dik woman squeaks with each thrust that goes up into her, filling her as she holds tightly onto her husband in front of her. Her face is the crazed delight that he loves to see in his wife, eye-lids uneven, her gaze unfocused, and her grin huge, dumb, and addled by the joy that floods into her.

The caracal underneath her thrusts upward, filling her ass. Lovemore pumps his dik-dik dick with the same love and admiration he always does when he makes love to his wife.

But all things must end, and soon, the two men finish, first the caracal and then the dik-dik. They shoot their warm loads into Lerato, filling her with creamy, sticky goodness. She presses her lips together, humming and leaning her head into her hubby’s shoulder, shuddering, gasping, and letting out a gentle coo.

Lovemore breathes in and out with deep, fulfilled breaths, and he wraps his arms around her back, pressing her hooves to her and pulling her into an embrace.

The caracal’s cock plops out from within her butt, oozing with the remains of his latest ejaculation as her body leaks the baby batter the two boys have bestowed.

Despite the surge of activity, the cat stumbles up to a standing position, his shoulders hunched and his breaths deep and regular. He watches the two prey creatures with his predator's eyes, adjusting his tie when he looks at them.

“It’s been amusing,” he says, “but if you two are going to get out of here, you need to get out of here now, and don't you say anything about me letting you off the hook.”

The two deer spin around, hoof-in-hoof, and they bow before him. “Thank you so much!” says Lovemore.

“We shall cherish this day always,” adds Lerato.

The caracal smiles and nods, adjusting his collar. “Well, you two go have fun. I got a lot of work to do.”

The two deer gather their clothing when a knock comes on the door. The supervisor pauses, quirking an eyebrow. He nods towards his desk, and Lerato grabs Lovemore, leading him back behind it.

The supervisor slides his pants back up and opens the door. On the other side stands the attendant, wearing their clownish getup, their face inscrutable behind their mask. But they take a jangling step into the trailer, hands behind their back.

“You’ve been taking a while to handle the troublemakers, boss,” the ride operator says, tilting their head. “Seems like you could use some help taking out the trash.”

They lean close to the caracal’s collar, producing a prolonged sniff. “Although, it seems you’ve been putting pleasure before business.”

The supervisor growls, standing between the operator and the rest of his room. “Remember that I’m in charge around here, and you’re just a clown. Get back to your post and make sure this ride is meeting its quota.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, boss,” the operator says, lifting a gloved hand, index finger extended. Energy glows at the glove tip, forming a purplish ball. Through the darkness of the eye holes of the mask, the purple light reflects a malicious sheen.

The supervisor watches with a frown on his face. “What’s this all about?”

“You were a great hunter in the past and can be a great hunter in the future. Is that not your dream? Is that not what you want for your future?”

The boss stares at the glowing orb, his eyes transfixed, his jaw-dropping as his whole experience delves into the sphere and the vision he sees within it. “Yes, I see… that is what I want. To make my ancestors proud… to be nobility.” He reaches up with trembling hands towards the orb, which grows in the clown’s hand.

Lerato and Lovemore watch the magic before their eyes=. Lerato looks to Lovemore and nods, and Lovemore nods back to Lerato. He clicks his hooves together, and an aura of radiant energy forms a blade in his hand. He spins around, cutting a hole right into the floor. Lerato punches the gap with her gloved fist, sending the floor falling to the ground below.

The operator chuckles, saying, “There’s nowhere for the two of you to run. Not when this man’s dreams come true!” With that, the jester slaps the orb, forcing it through the caracal’s chest.

The supervisor roars, stumbling back as the purple energy crackles through him.

“You can see it, can’t you? What are the possibilities and the futures that you and your family line can have? You’ve gotten their scent, Hunter. Why don’t you prove that your future can be as glorious as your past? Why don’t you fulfill that lust for conquest and prestige here and now and capture those two for me?”

Hunter chuckles, his claws extending, his eyes glowing that deep purple.

The two dik-diks scurry through the dark back rooms of the Tunnel of Terror, holding hand-in-hoof as they rush out, soon emerging back into the tunnel itself, brushing past a display of a sheet ghost dangling on a string, dancing around with spooky moans rising up from it. They hop through the sheet and land right into the lap of a single occupant.

A moment later, the sheet rips as the caracal leaps out, roaring, his teeth bared and his claws outstretched.

________________

The great desert empires control the pockets of civilization throughout the wastes. The greatest of them gather the various peoples who travel across the trade roads into palaces filled with a cosmopolitan collection of workers and nobles. From the highest seat of the sultan to the lowest noble tending to the filth, each member of the nobility feels pride in their position.

And the family of the caracal coursers enjoys a life of nocturnal hunting, chasing the animals and the bounties, keeping their bodies in tip-top condition, and having many children to continue the family line.

Generations passed, with many branches of the family spread out as the empire spread. When work became too scarce for the sheer number of new coursers, many sought their fortunes in other parts of the world, where they couldn’t use their skills to do what they had always done. They needed to adapt and learn and become something else. Many didn’t do so with ease, and their families lost their prestige as these alien lands took them in.

But they kept the stories passed down from mother to kitten, telling them of the great hunts, filling the young minds with wonder and excitement even when the world itself crushed their spirits with the mundanities of life.

But those stories and dreams make someone push through even the toughest of mundanities. Now emboldened by powerful magic, Hunter sees the past clearer than ever. The future, once so dark and depressing, has become bright.

He slashes downward at the two Dik-Diks, snarling as he does. They scramble to the side of the boat, tipping over the small vessel. The poor passenger yelped and fell into the river, splashing around in surprise.

The caracal crawls onto the capsized vessel, his whiskers twitching, his tail swishing before he pounces, leaping at the two trespassers.

Lerato climbs onto the shore, her outfit, hair, and fur soaked. Lovemore remains in the river, helping her, turning to face the hunter with his glasses askew.

Shouting a word of power, he holds up his hooves, creating a magical barrier around himself. The armor only serves to lessen the blow he takes, the swatting paw sending him tumbling off to the side, smacking against the shore.

The Hunter hops up beside Lerato, standing up, his teeth bared, curling up into a predatory smile.

Lerato stares at the tall feline, gulping, but she clenches her fists, bringing them up and ready for a pugilist’s defense.

Hunter swipes at her, his mind flashing with the memories of coursers past who have similarly cornered their prey. His arms and legs and tail flail about in mimicry of their motions, but the tiny deer dodges each with deftness.

His muscles, unused to such exertion and tired from his previous fornication, scream with protest. He cannot understand why he cannot perform these ancestral actions. For he is not himself–he is all the coursers of the past who tracked through the desert and tired out the prey for the hunters to arrive and gain their glory.

Even though he stumbles, shifts, and swings wide, he is a larger creature, and Lerato desperately tries to avoid his massive claws. She bumps into the wall, with only the water around her. She gulps, throwing a punch with her mechanical glove.

The Hunter’s movements are so erratic and untrained that he stumbles out of the way by a miracle of happenstance, making the small deer girl stumble beside him. His claw swipes downward at her, but then, the remains of the ghostly sheet from one of the animatronics drops over his face, the other half of the Dik-Dik couple having dropped down from above to cover him up.

“You okay, dear?” Lovemore asks, pressing a hoof to her back and moving her away.

“Great. Don’t show too many of your skills,” Lerato adds, the two running off from the chamber. “These people aren’t normal theme park attendants. We may need to fight our way out.”

He nods, grimly looking over his shoulder toward the Hunter, clawing away at the sheet on his head.

“Jump!” Lovemore whispers, and he follows her lead, the two leaping off the platform and onto another boat. They bounce off it and into the last chamber, rushing past a particularly fuzzy werewolf display.

The couple on board the boat gasp and grasp each other, only to shriek in terror as the ghostly-shrouded caracal leaps from his platform and onto their boat.

“It’s just so real!”

“The production value is so high!”

“Out of my way!” he snarls, hopping off the boat in pursuit of the Dik-Dik duo.

Soon, the light of the day beyond bleeds from the doors leading to the tunnel entrance. The two deer rush for it, only for the service entrance to open and the jester-like park attendant standing in the way.

“Oh, ho, ho, your ride isn’t over yet, you two,” they coo. “In fact, you could say that the ride never ends!”

With that, skeletal hands emerge from the water, grasping at both Dik-Diks. It grabs Lerato’s ankle, yanking her in, and Lovemore holds onto her, hooking his arms under hers.

“You two have such vim and vigor,” the attendant says. “I wonder if you’ll be good to show off to my other supervisor. Or… if you know too much and need to join our skeletal friend in the drink for a really terrifying time.”

Hunter rushes forward, stopping just in front of the scene. He snorts and shakes his head, watching as the Dik-Dik desperately pulls against the submerged skeleton, water rolling down from its skull in a macabre display of false tears and salivation.

“Just in time, Mister Hunter,” the attendant says. “You are a credit to your ancestors for your coursing work. But the fun stops here.”

With alacrity, the piebald operator rushes past the deer and presses a hand against the caracal’s chest. With a quick wrist jerk, the purple energy orb flies out of him and into their hand.

The caracal collapses, his shoulders hunching, his eyes going hazy.

With a sigh, the jester turns around, bouncing the ball in their hand. “Now, to clean up this mess.”

________________

The ride attendant rolls the purple energy ball over their arms and behind their shoulders, twirling it between fingers and tossing it into the air, catching it without even looking once. Instead, their inscrutable eyes rest solely upon the pair of dik-dik that struggles against the mechanical skeleton pulling them towards the shallow tunnel.

“I told you that you would face terror here in our tunnel,” the jester operator says, “But you failed to let it come from simple tricks and cheap showmanship.” They squat beside the two, snickering.

Lovemore holds onto his dear Lerato with all the grip he can muster with his dik-dik hooves, digging into the floor and stepping back, fighting the unliving strength of mechanical might.

Lerato grips the bony hand that holds onto her, fighting with her mechanical gloves to pry the monster from herself and free her from its terror.

“Are you really feeling it now, you two?” the operator asks, voice rising in a crescendo of sadistic delight. “Let it flow through you, like the pride that flowed through that useless husk over there.”

With a wave of their hand, the operator motions to Hunter, laying with his gaze empty but steadily rising and falling from his chest.

“Some people say it’s great to live without fear,” the operator says. “And there are others who live their lives so dangerously and so horribly against others when they lack fear themselves. What we offer here is a place that will quantify your terror and rip it out of your screaming bodies.”

They rub their chin, giggling with a cackle of delight. “Tell you what, let me know if you’d like to live your life without fear before you can’t make a choice. Imagine not having any inhibition due to societal expectations. Not holding back because you are afraid you’ll harm someone, going through life without a care for your own personal safety, losing body parts, losing loved ones, all because the fear response that keeps you from doing stupid things is taken away from you!”

Lovemore’s hooves slip, and the two splash into the water. Lerato lets go of the skeleton and grabs onto the side, her grip tight enough to keep the skeleton from pulling her in. But Lovemore’s hooves scrape across the platform's edge as he splashes into the water.

Lerato snatches his wrist, pulling him up enough so he can breathe, the disturbed water lapping at his face and threatening to make him sputter and cough.

“You’ll let us go if you take that fear!?” Lerato asks, her eyes wide with that panic.

“Not necessarily. You know too much. But I’ll let you live, even as our prisoners.”

“We’ll be together?” she asks, her arms straining, her muscles tensing.

“I’ll grant you that much.”

“Do it!” Lovemore shouts.

“We don’t need fear to do the right thing by each other.” Lerato continues, staring the operator down with grim determination.”

“That’s right!” Lovemore adds. “We have each other, and as long as we love each other, we can overcome any muting of our senses or emotions.”

“Oh, but this won’t be muting,” the jester says, holding a hand. “Grab my hand, and I shall extract it all from you, just like I extracted all the pride from the supervisor.”

Hunter’s eyes dilate, and he snarls, suddenly springing to life. He pounces on the operator, knocking them down.

The skeleton lets go of the two deer and stands up, lumbering toward the hunter, whose claws tear and scratch at the piebald motley, sending shred sand bells all over the place.

With its bony hand, the skeleton punches the hunter in the side of the head, sending him tumbling and splashing into the water.

“Are you ready, dear?” Lovemore says, getting to his feet, half-submerged in the water.

“Ready as you are, my love,” Lerato responds.

She cups her hand on her hubby’s tush and, with a hefty grunt, pushes him forward and up into the air, aiding his jump.

Lovemore thrusts his hoof forward, a glowing blade of arcane energy slicing vertically upwards at the skeleton, breaking open part of its mechanism.

Inside is a tangle of wires and gears, working in unison to give the skeleton life. The thing roars with the grinding of machine parts as it turns toward the two tiny creatures. Lerato is already up at its exposed mechanisms, adjusting and tinkering with various wires and screws, and knobs.

The creature smokes and sparks and grinds, its movement halted with loud pops and snaps. Lerato hops off of it, turns to her husband, and holds her hand up.

He finishes the action, slapping her glove with his hoof. When their salutation is complete, the skeleton crashes to the ground, water flooding the rest of its systems.

The ride operator scrambles to their feet, an arm covering their chest while a gloved hand holds onto the tatters around their waist. Deep dark humanoid skin with subtle curves shows off their form. With an angry growl, they snap.

“You’ve gone and damaged carnival property! Now, you’ve really done it!”

“Leave’em alone!” the caracal growls, stumbling to his feet. “They’re just a couple of young lovers looking for fun.” He rubs his head. “You and I are going to talk this out, nice and slow,” he says, chuckling and slowly stepping toward the jester.

“N-now, wait a minute. Let me give you back your pride. You need it to function properly, certainly.”

“Pride?’ he scoffs, licking his lips. “Without that, I’m out of fucks to give.”

Lerato tugs on Lovemore’s arm and the two dik-diks look at each other, nodding, and rushing out the entrance, finally free of the wretched Tunnel of Terror and leaving the operator who brought them here to fall to their own trap.

________________

A line of potential riders stands in front of the Tunnel of Terror, a ride seemingly abandoned by its operator. The last of the riders hopped out of the boat, the two quietly exiting on their own with unamused faces. Despite this, the screams from the inside tell of a very scary experience, and the crunch and popping of mechanical parts within only add to the allure.

It is even more of a surprise and an intrigue when Lerato and Lovemore emerge from the entrance to the dark ride. Their fur and clothing are soaked, and they quickly hop the partition of the line to make for the exit queue, rushing past the casually paced former riders.

“What’s going on in there?” one park quest asks the deer, but they are quick to escape and provide no answer.

“Where the hell are the employees?”

“I want my money back!”

The tunnel entrance kicks open as Hunter strolls out from inside, the ride attendant draped over his shoulder, kicking the air in their tattered outfit.

“Have no fear, bitches, bros, and nonbinary hoes. The entertainment has finally arrived.”

He tosses the attendant from his shoulder, letting them fall on their butt. He holds onto their wrist, not allowing them to cover up their curves and mounds, revealed by the tattered outfit. The masked attendant brings their legs together to cover their sex, shaking their head, trembling at the many eyes turned toward them.

“How’s this for losing all pride and shame?” the caracal says, snickering at them. “Bet you’d feel nice and fine if you could pluck it right out of yourself just like you did with me.”

There is a loosening in the attendant’s struggles, their shoulders and chest rising and falling in deep breaths as the mask looks at the gawking onlookers. Gulping, the attendant nods.

A moment passes when they hang there before a swirling purple mass appears on their chest. Thrusting their chest outward, the ball of energy falls and lands at their knees, their head dangling low after the expulsion.

Hunter growls, holding tightly to their wrists, his tail flicking.

A deep and dark laugh rises from the attendant before they turn their mask up towards Hunter, hopping up to their feet and hooking a leg around his, pulling him in close.

“It’d be a shame if I made myself shameless as you, you old, washed-up has-been fuck!”

He falls over his back, kicking at the orb of energy that rolls past the audience. Everyone else is so transfixed upon the display in front of them that to notice it disappear through the crowd.

The attendant grabs the ripped-up outfit between their legs and pulls the remaining shreds apart, revealing the glistening and dripping folds the glistening and dripping folds to Hunter and the world. “I’d never be caught dead fucking your stupid fucking cat cock, but who cares!? I’m good as dead anyway!”

He growls, pushing himself up only to fall back down when they land on his lap, pushing him down by the shoulders, grinding up against him.

“Watch all you want, too, because the real show is about to begin! I hope you’re ready!”

Hunter frees his shoulders from the attendant’s grasp, yanking down his pants, his cock hard for the third time in such a short time. There is no foreplay or circumstance as he grips the big cheeks behind the attendant, sliding their body down along his shaft, filling them up with the barbed penis.

The masked attendant throws their head back, moaning as the two go at it, their breasts jiggling and their body glistening from the water and the sweat building up.

And while this display goes on, the little purple ball of energy leaves the queue, bouncing along the ground until it stops at the hoof of a curious Dik-Dik.

Lerato pinches the thing and lifts it up to her face, frowning. “Now, what do you suppose is happening here, my love?”

She places the trinket in Lovemore’s waiting palm. The husband waves his hand over the top of the item, his eyes closed, his head bowed.

“Emotion extraction, my dear, through the use of ritual, it seems. Something like this would have to be done on a massive scale. I’ve never encountered something this pure before… not outside of textbooks.”

“How big are we talking?” Lerato says.

Lovemore licks his lips, scanning his eyes o er the park, where other workers and masked attendants lead other unsuspecting people to rides that provide thrills to different emotions.

“Probably the size of the park, with enough ritualists to staff a carnival.”

“This is bigger than the two of us,” Lerato says, whispering to her husband. “We need to get out of here.”

And while the two try to subtly make their way from the park at large, an attendant who is giving suggestively-shaped balloons to carnival-goers watches them make their exit, a glow emerging from behind the eyes of their mask as they say, “It’s as the master predicted—the couple found out in the tunnel of love.”

The customer sighs and shakes their head. “Well, we’d better send someone specialized to ensure they don’t spoil the surprise. I’ll find someone perfect for this job right away.”