The smell was going to attract someone. I’d pretty much figured that out already—hiding in some alley was only going to work for so long, the way I was panting and dripping. I was glad I pretty much never wore panties anymore, but I’d already dropped one ben-wa ball and I could feel the other one slipping. I rolled my head back against the wall, my ears pricked, every feline sense working to detect company. My hands kneaded at the bricks as I tried to fight the waves of my withdrawing orgasm, feeling the heavy metal ball slipping lower and lower.

I caught a whiff of smoke, heard the scuff of boots on the asphalt. I stayed calm, quiet, still catching my breath. I have perfect vision in the dark, so I kept my eyes squinted as I looked towards the mouth of the alley.

A large goat wearing nothing but a pair of torn jeans was coming my way. The black and gray fur around his throat and chest was messy and fluffed. I knew enough about goats to recognize that meant he was in rut. Almost instantly, I felt the heat in my loins rev up again. I lost the grip on my ben-wa ball and just as the goat was approaching me, it slipped free. I was too slow to catch it. The metallic ping-ping was enough to make him pause, and as the ball rolled into the light at his boots, he took a long draw from his cigarette and looked down at it.

I knew he could smell me, and that he knew where I was standing. No point in hiding out. Rolling the other ball in my hand, I danced out into the alley way, flashing him a sure grin as I bent at the waist to retrieve its partner. He blew out a long cloud of smoke once I rose. The clinking of the metal balls in my paw was the only sound for awhile. The smell of his cigarette was sweet, not like a regular smoke or even a cigar. It actually reminded me a little of candy.

“I’m Tarragon,” I said smartly, my heart going all pitter-patter in my chest. I found myself wondering about the size and shape—but mostly the size—of what he had between his legs.

A too-long smile snaked back along his muzzle. I couldn’t tell in the dim light, but his horns looked deep red, and his eyes didn’t seem to have any color at all. Looking into them, I suddenly felt afraid, which is very unusual for me. I hook up with strangers on an almost-daily basis, and I know how to take care of myself.

“They call me the Beast,” he said. His voice was very low, rumbling, a predator’s voice. It sent unwarranted chills down my spine. He took another drawn-out drag of his cigarette before flicking it off to the side, letting the smoke escape in tendrils from the corners of his mouth. There was definitely a hint of cherry to the smoke.

“Mmm,” I said, “Wonder why they call you that?” I couldn’t help myself. The ben-wa balls were just a warm-up, and now I was ready for the real thing. The scent of my musk from the balls in my paw combined with the goat’s own strange flavor was intoxicating.

Suddenly, I was up against the cool brick wall again. The Beast’s larger form over me got my heart jumping in my chest again. I admit, I was excited with the risky location as much as the goat’s fervor. His mouth tasted like cigarettes and chocolate, and his long, flat tongue forced its way into my mouth in a way I might expect from a larger predator. I felt his blunt fingers on my thigh; he’d already pushed my skirt up, and was grabbing my ass, pulling me against him. Through the thick denim of his jeans, I could feel the hint of his organ. It wasn’t even hard yet, but I could tell it was big.

I caught a breath of air when he pulled back, licking his black lips. I noticed that the Beast had fangs—a goat with fangs—so he was probably not all goat. It explained a bit—I may be a cat, but even I am usually larger than a goat. The Beast towered over me by at least a good foot.

“You like danger,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “That’s good. I am very dangerous.”

As if in response, my heart began to race, pumping more adrenaline through my veins. I could feel his breath on my whiskers.

Suddenly, he spun me around. I pressed my cheek against the brick, my eyes closing as he shoved my skirt up around my hips. My tail flagged, but he grabbed it, moving it aside. I knew he was looking at the leather cuff around my tailbase, and sure enough, a second later his hand came down on my rump with a sound slap. I gasped, instinctively spreading my legs further and bracing myself against the wall. My rear lifted on its own, silently asking for more. I was not disappointed.

I can’t explain why I enjoy being spanked. I certainly don’t always enjoy being talked down to, and I am nobody’s pet or slave. The feeling of a well-placed palm on my ass sends jolts of pleasure right where I need it, and that doesn’t really need explaining. It just feels fucking good.

The Beast knew just how to slap me, too. Fingers together, slight cup to his hand, on the bottom of my ass cheeks. He squeezed just before moving his hand away. My gasps were becoming more vocal as the vibrations traveled to the sweet spot between my legs and I was sure that there was a puddle beneath me by then.

When the Beast was finished with that, I felt him squeezing my rear with his large hands. The flesh beneath his fingers was hot and throbbing. I moaned unabashedly. It was taking all the strength I had to keep my hands splayed on the wall on either side of my head—I wanted so badly to dip my fingers into my slit, to quench the fire that was burning there. I told myself to be patient.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. I felt the rough tips of his fingers slide up between my sopping lips, rubbing, but not penetrating. A groan escaped my clenched teeth as I arched my rump higher still, my back aching.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” I heard him whisper, just before his fingers moved away. I bit my lip to stifle a plaintive cry, my entire body thrumming like a taut chord. I heard him strike a match, smelled the sharp sulfur, and I knew he was smoking again. The sweet smell of his flavored cigarette wafted over my shoulders as he leaned against me, his almost hoof-like fingertips pulling my camisole up, over my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra, either, and my breasts filled his large hands. I heard him take a drag of his cigarette, the soft crackling of the burning paper close to my ear.

He spun me around again, grabbing one of my hands and pulling it to his fly. I’d realized by then that he was not the type to get hard over just a little stimulation—he was going to need some special attention. I knew just the thing. As I diligently unbuttoned his pants, pulling the tight zipper down, he puffed away on his smoke, the cigarette dangling from his slightly parted lips.

The Beast wasn’t wearing any underwear, either. He didn’t have a sheath, at least, not one like other furs. His organ hung down into the right pant leg. I was surprised that I hadn’t noticed it earlier—even flaccid, I could see the shape of it perfectly pinned against his leg by the denim. My mouth was watering already. I tugged the heavy flesh out, feeling its sleeping weight in my paws. Without direction, the Beast moved silently back just enough for me to kneel in front of him.

“What a beautiful cock,” I heard myself say. His fingers through the fur between my ears let me know that my words pleased him. I pulled back the skin over the flat head of his penis, enticed by the salty-sweet smell, entranced by the feeling of his blood at last flowing into this piece of meat. I opened my mouth, knowing that once he was hard, I wouldn’t be able to get it in there. My tongue slipped beneath his foreskin; the slight abrasiveness on his sensitive parts made his length twitch with anticipation. I sucked on his tip, rewarded by a few drops of hot liquid on my tongue.

It wasn’t long before I had to let him pop out of my mouth, but I didn’t let his organ go neglected. I pushed it up—must have been at least a foot long, by now—and licked the underside of it, all the way from the thick, curly fur at the base to the still-glistening tip. My hands danced around his cock, pulling the mottled flesh, massaging more blood into it. I let my drool lube his length, all the while imagining how it was going to feel, my own sex pulsing with hunger.

“Get up,” he grunted finally, just when I was beginning to consider letting one paw slip between my thighs. I couldn’t move fast enough. Finally standing, leaning back against the bricks again, my heart was racing and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. When had I dropped my ben-wa balls?

The Beast did not give me long to linger. He pushed up my skirt again, his cock leaving damp spots on the thin fabric as it bunched at my waist. He lifted me and I placed my hands on his arms, superficially delighted in the bunching muscle under my palms as he steadied me against the wall.

He didn’t even have to aim. I felt the blunt tip pressing against my sex, willing it to stretch. It rubbed teasingly against my clitoris, hot and slick, and I moaned loudly. My moan stopped short as that thick head pushed past my defenses, squeezing into my toned tunnel, spreading me. Pleasure blossomed, sprouting as he continued to push in, hardly giving my body time to adjust for his size.

I dug my heels into the small of his back, willing him forward. He groaned with the effort, his noise making me clench my muscles reflexively. This made him pause, then suddenly, quickly complete his push into me, hilting that long, thick staff inside of me. I could feel the dull ache inside me that meant he was pressing against my cervix, but before it could get uncomfortable, he was drawing his cock out again, the cigarette hanging limply from his lips as he panted. “Fuckin’ tight,” he muttered, dropping ashes on my chest.

The going was extremely slow at first, with the exception of his first push in. I slid my arms up to his shoulders, my hands clenching bunches of his long fur. It didn’t seem like he was going to be able to speed up at all; my body did not want to conform to his larger size. This was to no loss of pleasure for either of us, however, and I felt my body shake as I neared my first orgasm. Sensing this, the Beast took the dying cigarette from his lips and flicked it away, exhaling smoke from his nostrils as he claimed my mouth again, pressing his body inside me. He stuck to shorter pumps, stroking my deepest recesses, the blunt tip of his cock still tapping my cervix. The thought of his cum filling me, breaking past that seal, suddenly overcame me, pushing me over the edge. I gasped and yowled with my climax, my claws digging into him as he continued to thrust against my flexing muscles. He never paused, but worked through my orgasm, his hips finally able to move faster. As I calmed, panting, the sensations were doubled, tripled, and I couldn’t keep my mouth quiet anymore. Every movement the Beast made inside me elicited some sort of cry of pleasure, and I never heard him complain. I knew we wouldn’t be allowed to carry on like this much longer—we were sure to be found out.

Again, he seemed to sense my thoughts. The Beast pulled his long cock out of me with a wet, sloppy sound. I made a pitiful noise, but he was already pulling my skirt back down and setting my unsteady feet back on the ground.

“Your apartment is close,” he rumbled, stuffing his jeans. I didn’t ask how he knew, I just led the way there. I noticed gratefully that no one was standing at the entrance to the alley.

The moment we were inside, he closed the door behind him and locked it. The Beast lifted me up in his arms and carried me into my bedroom, as if he had been here before, and knew where every turn was, every hidden piece of furniture. He dropped me unceremoniously on the bed and closed the door behind him. I was taking off my shirt as he was dropping his jeans, kicking them aside. I wiggled out of my skirt, watching him as he moved over to the shelf built into the wall by the door.

My apartment is my personal place, but my bedroom is a shrine to that which I enjoy the most. I am not ashamed to say that I have my best dildos and other toys displayed on these shelves, along with magazines and books of an erotic nature. The artwork on the walls, tastefully nude throughout the rest of my home, is significantly more sexual in my bedroom.

His expression a mask, the Beast chose a canine dildo from my collection. It was a moderate length, more of a challenge for me because of the bulbous knot near the base. I cannot properly use this one on my own, and seeing him bring it over to me, armed also with a small bottle of lube, awakened a refreshed sense of arousal.

“Turn around,” he directed, kneeling on the bed. His organ was in a half-awakened state, still sticky with my honey. “Let me see that ass again.”

I did as I was told, my heart beating with excitement. Without the distraction of public sex, I could focus my curiosity around him. I felt his wide hand on my rear cheek, rubbing, then giving a little playful slap. I sighed, bowing down on the bed and nuzzling into a pillow. This raised my hips, and my legs parted, presenting myself to him. My tail lifted, the tip brushing my back. I felt him sliding the tapered tip of the dildo along my slit, steadying me with his hand on my rump. Terribly slowly, he pushed the rubber dick inside of me. I was still sopping wet, and it went in easily, being significantly more modest than the Beast’s.

He wiggled the hilted dildo inside of me, rubbing my clit with a finger as he pressed the knot against my opening. I felt my body resisting, trembling, but I couldn’t stop myself from pressing back against it. He rocked it, making the dildo nudge my walls, pressing insistently. He drew it out marginally and slammed it back into me, much the way that a rutting dog would do, and this sent the most carnal of signals down my spine. Though I knew I wasn’t being mated, I couldn’t deny the waves of pleasure this was sending through my body. My gasps became more vocal, and I felt my pussy start to clench against the slick rubber.

The knot was slamming into me, and I knew I was starting to stretch over it. I had a little experience with knots on real lovers, so I knew that I wouldn’t really be stretching over it—it would more like be forced into me, and this was what the Beast was trying to accomplish. I dug my claws into the pillow and bit it as he rammed me with the dildo again and again.

Then suddenly, I was tied. The knot was beyond my outer defenses, my inner walls clenching against it and trying to hold it in while trying to expel it at the same time. I heard the Beast make a small pleased noise.

“Don’t you let that slip out, now,” he said. Panting, I turned my head to look at him. He was stroking his long dick with the lube. My eyes widened, but I felt a trill of excitement run through me.

I watched him until he moved behind me, outside of my vision. Mentally I reminded myself that I should get a mirror or two for my room.

Even though I was prepared, I still started a little when I felt his fingers probing at my back door. I rarely indulge in anal—too much of it can be unhealthy, and while I may be promiscuous, I still want to take care of myself. I knew what to expect and forced myself to relax, concentrating instead on the pressure of the canine dick lodged in my cunt.

With every courtesy, the Beast lubed me up with his fingers first, stretching me with them, while his other hand was stroking his cock against my ass cheek. I felt him slide two, then three fingers inside of me, but I was still focused on the dildo, determined to be relaxed enough for his oversized cock to slip into my ass.

When he finally did press that flat tip against my rear, I felt him slip a hand around to the hilt of the dildo as well, wiggling it around inside my pussy. The sudden pleasure this awakened rolled through me, and I didn’t even feel the usual pain of the initial entrance. It was more of a pressure now, the pleasure multiplied by the feeling of his penis pressing against the canid dildo that plugged my snatch. He eased into me, taking his time for both his benefit and mine.

He was so long, so thick, that it ached my back once he hilted in me. The vibrations of his organ sliding out of me, the way it moved the thick knot of the dildo tied to me, was easily sending me teetering over the edge again. The Beast had put his hand beneath me, flicking my clitoris with his fingers, as if I needed the extra stimulation. I came hard, crying out in my pleasure, as he popped his cock out of my ass and slid it back in again. His hand grabbed the dildo, working it around in my tunnel as I came down from my climax, extending my bliss. My head was swimming and my vocals only grew louder.

“How’s that?” he asked, his free hand slipping under me to grab a swaying breast. His weight over me was hot and heavy. “Do you like my big cock in your ass?”

I moaned my assent, unable to find words at the moment. He was rutting me now, hardly pulling out a few inches before slapping back against me. Still weak from my orgasm, I let his thrusts rock me. I felt him tug on the dildo until the knot popped free, and it seemed like the base of his cock swelled inside me, grateful for the extra room. He was pumping me with the dildo now in a beat that offset his own motions, rubbing the base of the rubber dick down to nudge at my very sensitive clitoris. I groaned into the pillow, knowing he was going to make me come again.

My next orgasm rolled into me, making my entire body seize up beneath him, my breath caught in my throat. He snatched the dildo away and pinched my clit, sticking his thumb into my tunnel and bending it to press into my g-spot while he pounded away at my ass. I came down from it quickly, panting and leaning into the pillow, wet with my own drool. He pulled his organ out of me and stepped back from the bed.

I felt open, exposed, but most of all, cold. I didn’t have the energy to do much besides roll over onto my back, following him curiously with my eyes. He’d gone over to the shelf again, and I knew what he was doing instantly. I had some gentle cleaning wipes for sensitive areas for such an occasion—again, taking care of my body—and he was taking one out of the little white box to clean off that magnificent cock. I blinked at it, trying to focus my eyes—was there a knot on it before?

He dropped the wipe into the trash pail next to the bed before crawling back over the rumpled coverlet to me. The Beast lifted my legs, opening them for himself, as he slid into me like it was his rightful place. He fit like a key. His organ was hot, pulsing, pressing against my cervix with an intensity I hadn’t noticed before, but any idea of pain was far gone out of my mind. I felt what was definitely a knot pressing against me, but after being tied with the dildo, I was ready for it. The Beast grunted over me, rutting me now more like an animal, jamming his knot against my pussy. My paws were on his chest, fingers lost in the knotted, messy fur, clinging to him. My hips rose to meet his unnecessarily.

With a loud wet noise, his knot popped inside of me. I felt the flat tip of his cock nudging harder against my cervix and I cried out uncertainly. He made a sort of growling noise, jerking his hips, but never enough to pull his knot out of me. I was overcome by the mental image of his dick filling me, pressing against my uterus. Amazingly I felt another climax rising inside me.

He came first, loudly, and hot; the strong, wet spurts of his seed painting my deepest recesses. I imagined that I could feel the liquid breaching my cervix, even spilling out beyond his knot. He came and came, and I thought he would never stop. But before he finished, I came with him. My orgasm milked him for all he was worth. He shuddered over me, his inky eyes squeezed shut and head held high. We rocked together, both of us still gasping in the final throes of our climax when his knot popped free. I could feel the sticky jizz running down my ass, soaking the bed sheets. The release of pressure inside me was almost as pleasurable as the sex.

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September 2018
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