Dynamics Pt. 03

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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The next morning found them yawning and stretching, Mercy getting up a side more quickly than Mark -- but she was fitter than he was. And he was hardly used to sleeping on an air bed, not even hanging out with friends who didn't have a small spare bed for him to crash on at that time. He'd gotten more than a little soft, it had to be said, after moving out, used to little comforts that were not always there. But maybe it was the nature of his job too that rendered him a little more uncomfortable for it was stressful on his body when he had to twist and contort.

They ate breakfast together, sausage and bacon bread rolls, which were just what he needed, and he tried to freshen up the best that he could in the porta-cubicles, which had showers too, even if he didn't want a shower. Fortunately, he had washed up before heading over to see Mercy the day before, so he wasn't exactly musky or anything like that, considering that he had not done any physical activity that day or the previous one.

"You'll have to help me get my armour on," Mercy said, after having allowed enough time for her breakfast to settle, her tail swishing as she grinned at her brother. "I sometimes have Michael to help me, but he's not around at the moment. It's a right beef to get into myself."

He grumbled faintly.

"Isn't that like...just me helping you get dressed."

Mercy shrugged.

"I've already got my underwear on for this, I don't know what the big deal is."

That was true. In her tent, she had been modest enough for him, not wearing anything less than a crop top, for which he was grateful. When the bare strip of her cream-furred stomach had been revealed with her changing...he had found it difficult to look away. Maybe it was because they had been apart for so long that he had not been around his sister like that. It was almost as if he didn't see Mercy as his sister anymore, but as someone that he was reconnecting with, however slowly all that was coming about.

He just had to make sure that he stopped looking at her as if he was trying to make something more happen between them. Mercy was not abashed or ashamed about her body in the slightest, wearing a tight pair of booty shorts as underwear -- well, he thought they must have been underwear. Covering her up was...something else.

"Here, can you lift that up over my shoulder? Thanks, brother."

Mercy put her arms back for him to slide something more onto her, though he didn't know the name of the under-armour type of clothing, a little thicker and a little padded. Yet it seemed to drag everything out in slow motion, the ripple of the muscle in her shoulders catching his attention, his breath hitching just another notch. Mark's tail lashed back and forth and the cougar hoped that Mercy would not notice, even if that most likely wouldn't have changed anything at all.

No... She probably would have flexed and shown off even more. Mercy had never been shy about her body and that had been one of the instigators of her fighting with her mother, when she had been wearing more revealing things. She had been muscled back then but she was even bulkier there, though her body held every last bit of it well. She still looked feminine -- but in a very "Mercy" way. It was a good thing, a very good thing, Mercy never fitting into any conventional boxes. Though, frankly, Mark didn't feel like he had ever fit into the boxes that others had wanted him to slot into either. She had just been bolder and braver about forging her own path while he was finding his way too -- and that was all okay.

Her tail swung as his eyes dropped to her backside and his cheeks darkened in a blush that was hidden from his fur. No, no... He shouldn't have been looking. Yet no amount of telling himself that he should have been concentrating solely on helping her stopped him from settling the armour over her shoulders and then going for the padded breeches-like garment that served in the place of trousers. Her thick thighs were firm under his touch but Mercy brushed off his muffled apology as if it was nothing at all. Nothing important had been touched and yet the smooth bristle of her fur under his fingertips had been intoxicating to him, as if it was something that the cougar wanted to feel, over and over again.

Sure, the under armour, as he helped her into it, covered everything needed, though it only seemed to further serve to develop her powerful physique.

He licked his lips, trying not to look at the round of her shoulders as he helped her, even if it didn't get any easier for him when he was hefting up the heavy metal armour weight plates. Everything about her seemed designed to appeal to him, to catch his eye, so he tried to hurry up as much as he could, so that he could try to hide the thickness in his jeans.

Damn it...

It was just because she was hot, no more to it than that. He didn't have a tightness at his groin because of her, admittedly gorgeous, Amazonian physique, no... Well, yes, but she was his sister and that was the reason he couldn't think like that! If she had been anyone else, getting a bit squirmy and aroused may have been okay, something for him to think about. But with her being his sister...

He grunted, trying to focus on the last bits. Of course, her body may have been covered up, though Mark still had to be up close and personal with her, close enough to feel her warmth radiating through her fur. The heavy plates slipped around his fingers and his grip strength was not all as good as he would have wanted it to be, even if he did, in the end, manage to get her fully adorned in her armour and even her helm too.

"Wow..."

She really did look like a knight. He took a step back, a smile tugging at his lips as his whiskers quivered. She was covered up in heavy armour, even in metal "boots" and gauntlets covering her paws, though no one would be able to recognise the cougar when her helm was down. One feature of the armour did cover the top side of her tail in flexible metal plates, however, all linked together, though it could not permit full coverage without restricting the natural flexibility and sweep of her tail.

There was not much more for him to do from that point, wishing her luck in the fight, though there was a little trepidation in him still. What if she got hurt?

Of course, with the cheering crowd at the showground and many coloured flags fluttering all over the place, he needn't have worried. No. Mercy was more than adept at her chosen style of fighting and she could more than hold her own, even if Mark had a little trouble hearing what the announcer was saying over the loudspeaker system. That probably was not quite in keeping with the time period, to be fair, but was needed to announce across the showgrounds, so that everyone knew where to come for the tournament.

He didn't know the rules but he could tell when Mercy won, the din of the loudspeaker ringing in his ears. He watched with bated breath as she fought, a broadsword in her paw, though she didn't seem to need a shield. He had not asked about her style of fighting, though he would certainly learn about it when he went home and had his usual internet connection restored, checking out the pictures too that the other staff there had told him he could access.

She was...simply amazing. The raw power and skill lancing through her... It was far more than a contest of brute strength and took his breath away entirely, a paw clenched with his fingers curled into a fist. Mark should never have worried for her, of course, as metal on metal clashed, sword on sword. Sometimes, she ducked to the side and ran her sword up inside the other's defences, though he could not have said what the move was. The skill was obvious and there was a difficult technical aspect to everything too, something that Mark had to appreciate.

In a way, it was like a medieval form of martial arts, if he was to liken it to the training that he had watched Mercy compete in when they had been younger. Just with heavy plate armour that weighed one down and made everything more difficult, even could make the fighters slower if they were not practised enough at wearing it. There were a few weak spots -- like the underarms, the insides of the knees and, of course, in Mercy's case, the tail too -- but there were danger spots too, ways to incapacitate an opponent and see them knocked to the ground.

He gasped as Mercy skilfully slid her sword up the inside of her opponent's, the big bear taller and broader than her. Yet the cougar didn't seem to have any trouble at all in fending them off, not as she smashed her sword into his chest, knocking him off-balance and then going for his helm.

It was a tournament and not a demonstration that time and there was no yielding until the fight was good and done. It was not to be stopped at any certain point, yet the cougar could not help but lean in a little closer, right at the front of the crowd, even though he hated crowds, clutching at the barrier. He just had to be close there, had to see everything, lips parted in wonder even as something too familiar to him throbbed within his jeans. He would have tried to will it away if he was not already so enraptured by the moment, thinking that he was more than close enough to the half-barrier with a rail on the top that no one would see. He was not fully hard, though he was aroused enough to know that he was more than turned on by everything that he was seeing. And that was something that Mark had to take in and something that he had to accept.

He told himself that he just didn't recognise Mercy as his sister in that moment, no... That was what it had to be, she was just a female cougar in heavy armour -- and, damn, that was hot!

He gulped and cheered and stomped with the rest of the crowd, spellbound by her strength, everything that Mark would have wished that he had for his own, even if he could have someone take over that side for him. For he had his own skills and strengths, when they were not physical in the same way, and those were the things that he brought to his relationships too.

When he found someone to be with, someone that made his heart rate quicken. Kind of in the same way as it was at that very moment as he was staring at his sister giving a victory cheer. Mercy pumped her fist in the air, removing her helm with a flourish, baring her teeth victoriously as the crowd chanted her name.

"Knight Mercy! Knight Mercy! Knight Mercy!"

She let out a cougar-like yowl, not quite a roar, and the crowd went wild, even as her whiskers quivered. Yet he couldn't drag his eyes away from her, even with the sweaty fur between her ears, bare of any hair like what other anthros had.

She was breath-taking and, well...he wasn't exactly inclined to be far away from her at that time.

But what did it all mean?

She had worked herself to her limit, high-energy and talking non-stop as he tried to guide her back to the tent, though Mercy strode out as if she knew exactly where she was going anyway. He didn't know how she could move so smoothly and steadily, even though she verbally professed that she was exhausted, thinking that he would have had to help her more after the fight. Even then, it was kind of "pretty cool" that she didn't need his help even then, standing tall and proud, holding her own when she said that she was completely drained.

"Damn it, I thought that stoat really had me on the rocks back there," she said, as if she was grouching about the fight, though Mercy was thrilled by the whole thing, her tail lashing with energy that was still left to be spent. "He was so quick!"

"But you were quicker," he said with a smile. "You were really great, Mercy, just...wow. I never thought anyone could move like that! You must have put so many years into fighting, learning to do it like that... I'm so proud you found something that's just...you!"

She grinned and flicked her tail at his hip.

"Thanks, bro, but help me out of this armour, would you? I'm sweating up a storm in here!"

He should have come up with an arrangement to get out of it, of course, that would definitely have been the sensible option. Yet...Mark did not. He smiled and said, in a voice that didn't sound like his own, that he could definitely help. And then his paws were moving all over her, helping her strip down, one plate piece shifting after the other, revealing more and more of her body in the strangest strip show that Mark could ever have imagined.

Damn...

He tried not to touch her too much as something, once again, thickened in his jeans, pressing out against the front of them, though he was sure the fold in the denim would conceal it. And, if he focused, he could help her more quickly, helping her out of everything down to the sweaty gambeson.

"Ugh..."

Mercy rolled her shoulders back, down to... Wait -- had her bra come off with the crop top that she had been wearing on the bottom? He hadn't been paying enough attention earlier to see whether or not the cougar had been wearing a bra, but it certainly seemed like she had not!

"Hey!"

He tried to give her some modesty, turning away and covering his eyes, a blush rising to his cheeks as his tail lashed in embarrassment.

"I can't help you if you're going to do that!" He growled, though the twist of embarrassment in his voice could not be concealed so quickly. "Mercy, seriously..."

"What's the matter?" She teased, laughing at his discomfort. "Are you embarrassed? Come on, brother, I'm your sister."

A fact that he was very aware of. Yet the cougar only made things worse by stripping right out of her soaked sports briefs, the shorts that had covered most of her buttocks before but not quite enough for him to be comfortable with her state of undress, and flung them at him. The sweaty briefs smacked him across the chest and he yelped even as the cougar rubbed her fingers through some of her fur, ruffling it up. She hadn't really needed a bra, considering how small her breasts were, but that didn't make it any more comfortable at all for Mark to be before her when she was completely naked!

And then she just strode out of the tent as if it was nothing odd at all, declaring proudly that she was going to use the shower in the van. All he could do was stare after her, her sweaty briefs in his paws, held loosely before his body.

She... There were other anthros out there! No children, of course, on the staff side of the showground -- but there were still more out there to see her! Yet the sweaty, muscular fighter strode out as cool as a cucumber, the languid roll of her gait so casual that it was as if she had everything in hand, exactly as it was meant to be. Unconcerned, her tail flicked around the tent flap as she left, Mark closing his fingers, without even thinking about it, around her briefs.

"What the..."

It was wrong. Everything... Something had shifted between them, something that should never have changed. Yet it was already in place and there was nothing he could do about that, the chain of events unfolding, moment by moment, as he brought the paw holding her briefs up to his face.

Mark was not thinking, but he was feeling, especially as he inhaled, the dampness of her briefs sinking lightly into the fur of his muzzle. The cougar just couldn't help himself as he inhaled, letting her musk sink into him, that fresh, crisp aroma of sweat along with something a little stronger too. That was not sweat but the cougar wasn't thinking about what that was at that time, exhaling softly only to take another big whiff of her underwear.

"Unnff..."

He gulped. No... Ugh, he really had to have been struggling with his sex life, needing to get some, needing to take better care of himself -- definitely so if he was sniffing his sister's underwear! What was wrong with him?

He put the clothes away, finding a laundry basket, trying his best to not think about what was going on, what had already happened. No, it was all confusing, no... Best not to worry, best to think about it when he was back home and able to consider things a bit more carefully.

Mark, however, glanced up as the rain finally came down. He'd been keeping an eye on the clouds all day, because he hadn't brought a jacket with him -- not one that was waterproof anyway. And there wasn't really anything in his car either to shelter himself with and he was sure that he was going to need a shower soon too.

Damn... I'd really hoped that that would hold off.

The din of the rain on the single-layer canvas tent pounded against his eardrums, Mercy ducking back into the tent, a coat on and dressed again, though that didn't help all that much. Heat rushed to his cheeks and neck, remembering her naked, even if the image was one that very much should not have been in his mind.

The cougar, notably, however, did not try to wipe it from his mind, no.

"Whoa!" She said breezily, shooting him a smile. "That's really coming down!"

He blinked.

"What?" Mark said, raising his voice. "I can't hear you."

"I said -- it's really coming down out there!"

Mercy growled and shook her head.

"It's too loud," she shouted, cupping her paws to her muzzle, trying to make her voice carry a bit more as she scooted in closer to Mark. "Let's head to the camper -- it's got to be quitter there!"

Mark grunted and shook his head -- he was going to get soaked! But Mercy was impossible to sway and it was not as if there was anything he could do to put her off it. He didn't have a coat and, still, he darted out into the rain with her, racing for the van. He didn't even know where it was as he ran, rain soaking through his fur, though there was still a powerful sense of exhilaration flooding him, a wild laugh bursting from his lips.

Was that what it was like to be Mercy? He could kind of get used to that, feeling free, doing crazy, spontaneous things...

The downpour soaked them to the skin, half drowning them by the time Mercy unlocked her van and they scrambled up a couple of steps to the inside.

"Ugh -- quick!" She grumbled, genuinely that time. "Get out of those wet clothes -- before everything in here is soaked!"

"Er..."

He hoped that she wouldn't try to get him out of his underwear too, but...yeah, okay, Mercy had a point. He couldn't just get all of her stuff wet, the sofa in the van taking up nearly all the space in the living area, opposite the tiny kitchenette.

"Here," she said, tossing a shirt at him. "You can wear this."

He looked at it, his own shirt off, for his bare chest was not that embarrassing to show off.

"What? Ah, Mercy..."

Mercy laughed.

"Just put it on!"

Of course, she had given him one of her old workout shirts, a tight-fitting number in bright pink. It was so pink that he was sure that it would have burned out his retinas if he had been staring at it directly, though he was lucky that there was no text on it. It could have been worse, even though it hugged his waist already, the cougar huffing softly, his ears trying to fold back.

"It's the only clean one I have!" Mercy said with a chuckle. "I need to get into town to do laundry, after the show, before we leave."

She didn't tell him, of course, that she had given him that shirt on purpose, so that he was dressed the way she wanted him to be. Even as Mark grumbled, she trailed an appreciative paw across his chest, eyes lingering long enough for his cheeks to become hot, at which point she returned to her (fairly) cocky smirk, amused by his reaction.