furry

DISCLAIMER:// My boyfriend and I started writing these stories for each other a while ago. He challenged me in the beginning to write the most kinky story I could think of. You’ll see what came of it. He’s also posting his stories on his account. I’ll update this with what it is soon enough.



No, none of these events have actually happened. They are pure fantasy concocted by my loverboy and myself.








Story 2: Fellatio



Another time, another place. You can feel that it’s cool in this room, but you cannot see a thing. All you can do is use your other senses to figure out your current location. You can smell the heady scent of vanilla and lavender close by, but you can’t tell from what. You’re tied up naturally. Though this time I’ve been more thoughtful and wrapped the cuffs with rags so they don’t chaff so bad. You feel a soft breeze caressing your skin. It’s warmer than the room is and causes goosebumps to rise over your skin. The scent of vanilla and lavender grows stronger. You can hear the soft padding of footsteps across the soft-ish floor. If you shift enough, you’ll notice that they’re tatami (rice mats). They’re perfect for cushioning your kitty knees. Your ears twitch, trying to find the sound again, but it doesn’t sound again.



The scent is extremely strong though. You keep looking around, sightless, your ears twitching. “Rachel?” you mewl. “Are you there?” Something touches your ear. Something warm and soft. A finger? Yes, a finger. My finger? Perhaps. “Rachel?” you implore again. Both of your ears were tweaked now, perhaps as an answer. You strain against you restraints. “Please! Tell me if that’s you.”



Something shifts in front of you and you can feel the air move downward. You feel fingertips on your nose, trailing down to your lips and over your chin. Soft lips touch your cheek as the fingers continue to trail even farther downward. You notice then that you are naked once more. Your cock twitches. “Rachel,” you mewl again, straining against your bonds. You want to make sure it’s me. You want to remove the blindfold so bad. Too bad you can’t. Lips keep kissing, nipping softly on your skin, moving toward your lips. Ten digits slide over your fuzzy chest, tracing patterns through the black fur. The lips skip yours and move up the other side of your face. You can feel your cock rising as the fingertips get closer and closer to it. You groan at a particularly sharp nip to your cheek. You shift in jerking motions, trying to get away or get the person teasing you to pull the blindfold off. You whine, pulling away, but each time finding that you can’t escape. Resistance is futile. You have yet to realize this, of course. “Let me see you,” you whisper when the lips find your earlobe and suckle on it gently. “Please, let me see you. I have to know…”



You feel a smile against your where your cheek and ear meet. The being still says nothing. You don’t know if it’s male or female, just that it smells of sweet vanilla and lavender. You can tell now that they’re so close to you. The fingers feel rather feminine though. They are slim and tiny, obviously feminine or perhaps Fae. You doubt you have a fairy in the room with you. Something about the touch is familiar. You think you know who it is, but you’d have to feel with your hands, taste with your tongue or see with your eyes to be sure. She isn’t going to let you do that quite yet though. She finally pulls away with a tiny giggle, leaving you aching for more. You let out a whimper, ashamed to be wanting to be touched so much and even more ashamed that you are sent into a spell of whimpering and desiring to beg and plead for more. You grit your teeth instead, growing angry with yourself and the woman who is so insistent on teasing you. You let out a growl, glaring into the thick blanket of black that the blindfold provides you. “Who the hell do you think you are?!” you shout, really rattling the chains as you strain and pull against them. “Who do you think you are that you can string me up like a prisoner and blindfold me then tease me like that?!”



You feel the female’s presence close up again. The scent fills your nostrils again as she leans close. Her hair brushes softly against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You shiver. Your sense of touch is amplified since one of the other ones is blocked. You feel her breath against your ear, hot and sweet. It’s like she’s tempted to say something, but decides not to, instead touching your shoulders gently and pressing her lips to your jaw. She kisses downward this time, licking the muscles of your neck with a thick, hot tongue. She finds your collar bone and you can’t really remember why you were mad now. Everything in your mind goes hazy except for one feeling: lust. You want this woman, even if you don’t know who she is. She’s driving you insane. Your insanity is of course making this even harder to go through. You fight your bonds more. It’s obvious that you want out. She just giggles softly. Her maddening fingers slip lower, teasing the line of your hip bones. Your cock starts to strain and twitch. Why won’t she touch you? Why won’t she kiss you!? You’re beyond frustrated and keep letting out noises that indicate this. A grunt, a hiss followed by a pleading whimper. “Woman, please…” you say softly. Your collar is starting to really kick in now. You’re beginning to turn more uke.



The woman doesn’t like this. She stops what she’s doing and reaches up to take your collar off. You let out a loud hiss as the change happens and you’re returned to your human form. The lips find your chin, nipping and sucking for a moment as the hands, soft and silky against your skin, return to your hips. The bell jingled softly as it fell to the floor. You gasp softly as she kisses down your chest. She rubs her hands down your thighs. You suddenly realize the size of her hands match mine. Rage boils inside of you. “It is you! You little –” You cut yourself off with a loud gasp. The woman’s mouth has closed around your cock. She didn’t even try to play with it first, she just went for the goal. You hiss in a breath and pull on the chains. You can hear the sucking of her mouth as she moves up and down. Her fists closes around the remaining part of you and strokes in rhythm. You definitely recognize the mouth and the hand now. It is me. “Rachel…” you moan, flopping against the chains. Your cock is aching from its engorgement of blood and I’m the only thing that can ease it.



I apparently get bored of sucking on you and move away for a moment. “Don’t!” You fight the chains again in an attempt to grab at me. Unfortunately, that is a fruitless and futile effort. Well, that’s only natural since you’re chained up in iron cuffs. “Rachel…” you say softly. You sound sad and needy.



You hear rustling on the mat in front of you. “So you figured out it was me for real?” you hear my voice ask. “I figured you would after I sucked your cock a little bit.” I reach up and touch the blindfold, as if tempted to take it off, but I leave it where it is. Instead, my hands run down your body. I touch your shoulders and sides before slipping around and groping your taught ass. “I’m tempted to try other things…” My hands slide lower and into your crack. You shiver as they get lower and lower. Finally, I touch the tight bud of your asshole. Your breathing hitches, but otherwise you don’t react. “Would you like me to play with your asshole?” I ask softly. You don’t answer me. I kiss the corner of your lips as I continue to touch and gently prod at it. “No answer means yes,” I murmur, taking your lips with mine in passion and heat as my finger pushes against your hole. It doesn’t give though. So, I finish my kiss, licking your lips when I’m thoroughly done with you. I pull completely away from you and you hear something squish. You don’t know what it is, but you feel my hand, slick with something, rubbing your hole again. I’m kneeling in between your legs, you can feel mine brush yours softly as I shimmy closer. With one hand, I rub your thigh. The other, has found its way back behind your balls from underneath this time. This lubrication makes it easier to push inside.



You groan. “What are you using?” you ask, your voice thick with lust. “To make it easier?”



You can almost hear the grin in my voice. “How sexy would it be if I said it was my own juices?”



Your sphincter clenches tightly around my finger as your hips buck. “Very sexy,” you gasp. You let your head loll back on your shoulders as I continue to push my finger inside. I pump it slowly a few times before easing it back to the opening. A second finger joins it, pushing slowly inside. I ease my fingers up inside of you until they reach their hilt. They wiggle around a little bit, as if looking for something. They find your prostate and your hips buck. A soft whimpering moan escapes your lips.



“Perfect,” I purr, leaning down to kiss your cock. You moan again as I slide you into my mouth. My free hand moves to encircle the base of your cock. I can already feel you thickening up as I suck, stroke and massage. I’ve apparently found one of the ultimate guy-pleasers. You buck against the chains, grunting and thrusting into my mouth. I let you, for now at least.



All you can do is feel pure sensation. You can’t see anything, but you can hear and feel every little thing that I’m doing to you. Slowly, in little wafts, my scent joins the smell of vanilla and lavender. “Engh! God! Rachel, let me fuck you,” you gasp, struggling even more now. “Please let me fuck you!”



I stop what I’m doing for a moment and look up at you. I let my hand fall away from your penis, leaving my fingers plunged deep into your asshole. They keep wiggling as I reach up and remove the blindfold. “No, you can’t fuck me. But I will let you watch.” Your eyes blink open and I slip your glasses onto your face, adjusting them so they sit right.



You can see my bare back since I’m leaning down so far. I’m naked, of course. You aren’t really paying much attention to my back though as I lean back down to suck your cock. You watch with rapt attention, I notice as I look up every so often. Eventually, I’m staring up at you, waiting to see you orgasm. Your face starts to scrunch up as your breathing gets more choppy. Your breath hitches in your throat as your mouth opens up. You struggle to keep looking at me, but you find you can’t. I feel your cock bulge and I pull my face away quickly. My fingers wiggle wildly against your prostate as the first jet of cum erupts from your member. I let out a gasp as the first jet hits my face. Another string comes and lands on my chest. I open my mouth as you look down again and aim your cock toward my mouth as it bursts again. All of this seems to be occurring in slow motion. I moan for you, not relenting on my milking of your cock and your prostate. By the time you’re completely empty, I’m covered in your hot seed. I fall back on my ass, withdrawing from you completely. I feel naughty and bad for what I did to you. My hand touches my face, touches your cum. I bite my lip and look up ate you. I’ve already swallowed what managed to make it into my mouth. I lay back on the rice mats below us.



You’re watching me, knowing exactly what I’m going to do. I scoot back a little bit so you can see me better. I love that look of complete attention you’re giving me. My fingertips move from my face down my body, drawing patterns in the cum covering me. My nipples are standing up proudly and I tweak them a few times before groping myself. I let out a sighing moan, continuing to watch you as you lick your lips.



I continue on in silence, sliding my hands down until they reach the parting of my thighs. I draw my knees up and lay my legs open so you can see everything and just how glistening wet my shaved pussy is. I watch you groan and lick your lips a few times. My fingers find my clit. I start to rub slowly, loving your eyes on me. I’ve always enjoyed masturbating for you, this time is no different. It always feels more intense when you can see me or hear me. I love teasing you like this. I’d love to feel your hands on me now, but that would be too risky at this point. You’d begin to wonder more about how you ended up here and what was going on. You’d begin to question if these were not dreams after all. This would not do. I enjoyed making you my sex slave far too much.



After a while of teasing myself, I’m rubbing furiously at my clit as my other hand finds itself finger deep inside my pussy. I’ve squeezed two inside, imaging it’s really your cock, which is beginning to stand at attention in front of me again. I bite my lip, refusing to let a moan escape, but it does anyway. My breathing is uneven and shallow. You can see the expression that I usually get just before I orgasm. Frustration, desperation… I stare up at you, continuing to rub and fuck myself. “Eric,” I breathe, my breath hitching in my throat on the last syllable. “I love you.” Then my orgasm crashes over me.



Covered in cum, still twitching from my own orgasm, I stand up and stand in front of you. Leaning down to your level. I kiss you softly. “Thank you lover. Time to wake up.”



Give me more good comments and I’ll post more!! X3

Beastly



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.

Frida awoke the next morning with a soft sigh, she stank of the beast’s cum and smiled as she saw her owner sleeping soundly. The pale woman simply looked up at the brilliant yellow and purple tinted sky, coloured by the sunrise as it chased the night away. She thought of the night before, forced upon the beat’s shaft like a common whore, and smiled in satisfaction. Frida wished every day that their roles were reversed, that she could use him instead of the other way around. Little did she know, today she would have that chance.



It was another hour or so before Mitar awoke from his slumber, his morning wood straining against his pants as he remembered the night before. Without a word he stood, the elf quickly standing as well, as she waited for the furred beast to untie her from the tent so she could help break the camp. Mitar paid her no mind, however, and simply trotted off into the woods, leaving the elf alone for a good five minutes or so. Was she being abandoned? Did she not please the beast enough? Thoughts raced through her head before the werewolf arrived with a bird in his clawed hand. “Lunch. For later.” He said, untying her.



Mitar could not help but grin as he untied the woman’s leash from the tent, her simple clothing hugging her body, stained with his thick cum. “Pack up. You can pluck the bird as we walk. Should reach the city by nightfall.” He said, looking up at the sky.



Frida shrank away from the beast a little as he spoke and asked, “Will I be paying for the room again?” She asked, wondering if Mitar would sell her to pay for their stay.



“Not this time.” The werewolf replied, idly kicking some dirt over the fire pit they had made.



“Thank you, Sir.”



It was not long until the pair were walking again, Frida carrying their bags, which was mostly a tent and some bed rolls, on her back while she plucked the wild bird, eyeing her owner’s dagger. Her job would be so much easier with the sharp blade, but Mitar did not trust her with something so dangerous and, Frida had to admit, it was the right call.



Their walk was silent, as usual, every once in awhile the furred man would look back at the elvish slave and check her progress on the bird. “This will be the last time we have to catch our meal.” He said as she dropped the last feather on the ground. “Next clearing we run into we’ll stop and eat. Enjoy it, though. Because we won’t be able to eat supper.”



“Why not, Sir?”



“We will be too close to the city. They don’t like their wildlife being killed.” He said, more than a little frustrated at the thought. Mitar had thought back to how far his pet had come. From screaming and fighting to actually seeming to willingly help him. Everything from making food to pleasing him, she seemed more than happy to help. The werewolf pondered if he could trust the woman to gut and prepare the bird herself. He had no idea that such a simple decision would change his relationship with the elf so drastically.



The pair reached a clearing not too long afterwards, it was large, with a small lake in the middle. “Perfect.” Mitar said. “Let’s eat, then take a bath before we head out to the city. As much as I love seeing you marked, it doesn’t look good.”



Frida nodded and began to dig a hole for a fire, the furred beast tying her to a small tree before heading out to get some firewood. The elf was obedient enough to not try and untie the leash, she had done it a long time ago and learned the hard way to not try it again. Frida was out as far as the leash would let her go, digging a hole for the fire, sweeping away any debris that could light up as Mitar came back.



“Okay, pet.” the werewolf said, having come to a decision. He handed her the bird and patted a log leaning against the tree she had been tied to. “If you try anything, and I do mean anything, other than gutting this bird, I will finish you.”



“Yes Sir! Thank you Sir!” The elf exclaimed as the wolf-man handed her his sharp knife, being sure to take a step out of her reach as he slender fingers wrapped around it. Frida began to quietly gut the bird against the log he had patted, her master trusted her enough with the sharp blade, and Frida just needed him to get close enough so she could show him who was really in charge. The elf began to gut the bird as she thought of taking the beast, pouncing on him and forcing him to please her. The woman’s thoughts slowly made her moist, her thighs rubbing together as she tried to ease the growing want in her loins.



Mitar, who had been prepping the fire, suddenly stopped and turned to the elf, smelling her arousal with his bestial senses. “Oh-ho. What’s this?” He said, stepping up to the woman, rubbing her small shoulders as she finished preparing the bird. “Don’t lie to me. Something about this is getting you hot, I can smell it.” He teased. Frida smiled and suddenly turned around, taking the werewolf by surprise, and brandished the knife in front of her.



“Down boy.” She said.



Mitar gave a growl and moved to grab her wrist, the elf quickly giving him a small cut before stepping in to him and holding the blade against his neck. “I. Said. Down.” the elf said, smiling as the furred man did as he was told.



“Listen you little bitch.” Mitar said, squatting down, the elf following him, knife to his throat.



“Did I say you could talk?”



“When I-”



“Bad dog!” Frida said, slapping Mitar’s snout. “You may only speak when spoken to.” She said, pushing the beast onto his back. “You see, mutt. When you first fucked me, I learned something. Elf cock isn’t good enough. I need someone with power.” The elf cupped the beast’s clothed crotch. “Your cock is glorious. But you? Not so much. So, from now on, you’re my pet, not the other way around. Got it?”



Mitar gave a snarl, his eyes zeroing in on her knife.



“Don’t take that tone with me, you mutt. I could just cut it off, make myself a nice little dildo.” she said, moving the blade down his chest before pressing it against his flaccid cock. The beast said nothing, causing Frida to nod. “That’s what I thought. Now. Strip.” the elf said, quickly cutting her leash as she watched her new pet do as he was bid.



Mitar was silent as he took off his pants, revealing his flaccid cock, hidden away in his pouch. She would have her fun for now but, soon, he would be back on top, if she wanted to play Alpha for a little bit, he was okay with that, he just had to do as she said for a little before she tired out.



Frida shook her head and frowned. “Oh. This won’t do at all.” She sighed



“Maybe if you started sucking it.” Mitar said with a snarl.



“What did I say about talking you mutt?” Frida said, slapping his snout. “Now then. I want you to masturbate for me, show me that great cock.” The elf said, taking her top off as she spoke, revealing her pert breasts, her nipples hard with excitement.



His clawed hand began to rub at his pouch, coaxing his cock out slowly as the elf began to take off her pants as well, revealing her naturally hairless cunt.



“That’s better.” The now-naked elf said as Mitar began to stroke his tumescent cock, licking her lips as she grew tense with anticipation. “Now then, pup, you may not-”



“What did you call me!?”



“Pup.” the elf said, slapping his nose. “No talking. As I was saying. You may not cum until I say so. Inability to follow these orders and… Well…” The woman chuckled to herself. “You’ll just have to see, okay?”



The elf smiled at the wolf man’s hard, red, cock as she moved up his body, the beast growling in response to her order as she grasped the rod and, slowly, lowered herself onto it.



“I am in control, pup. Don’t you dare thrust.” she said as she moved down his thick pole with a gasp, finally able to take him at her own pace, rather than simply being speared open. “Mm… That’s it…” she said, grinning down at Mitar who, without warning, grabbed the woman’s hips and thrust himself deep into her tight cunt. “AH!” she screamed, suddenly pressing the knife against his neck.



“Bad dog.” She said, slowly rolling her hips. “Maybe next time I’ll have to show you how it feels to be fucked in the ass.” She said before giving a moan, rolling her hips against him, the beast’s fur tickling her clit. “Mmm … Good dog… Just like that.” She said with a moan, the beast’s thick veins rubbing against her, stretching her wide.



“Up.” She commanded, grabbing Mitar’s fur and pulling him into a sitting position, hugging him as she rolled her hips against him.



Mitar groaned as he was pulled into the new position, the knife was against his back but he had to admit, letting her take control was pulling his cock into her in way he never knew existed, he let out a low moan as she clamped tightly around him. “Ohhh…” He gasped as the woman began to speed up, he could tell that she was getting closer and closer to her orgasm. “Mmm .. Keep going.” he groaned, beginning to force her movements, which got him a quick slap.



“Shut it, dog.” She said before continuing to ride him; using his thick cock as her own personal toy. “Mmm .. Oh yes!” She gasped. “Fuck… Mmm…” she continued before, finally, she felt herself spasm, her cunt squeezing tightly around her intruder as she came, her juices dripping down onto the beast’s cock.



Mitar gave a loud groan of pleasure as Frida rode him, her pussy squeezing around him and shaking like he had never felt before. “Oh… Fuck…” He whispered to himself as he felt his knot begin to press against the woman’s still shaking cunt. “Mm…” He moaned, Frida gasping as she pushed herself down onto the extra-wide flesh.



“Don’t you dare cum you mutt. I’m not done with you”



“Or what?” Mitar responded with a gasp, rolling his hips into the elf.



The elf did not respond, simply giving a groan of pleasure as she pushed him back, forcing him onto the forest floor again. The beast groaned as he felt the woman ride his knotted cock, picking up speed with each passing second.



“Don’t you dare cum…” she repeated. “Good dogs get rewards…” she moaned beginning to bounce up and down on the wolf’s thick shaft, feeling it begin to twitch with an oncoming orgasm.



“Oh… Fuck…” Mitar groaned, trying to hold back his torrent of cum.



“Mmm.. that;s it pup… Hold it in…” Frida cooed, groaning as she slowed her movements, Causing Mitar to whine in response, his orgasm held off for now from her lack of stimulation.



“Good dog.” Frida teased, rubbing behind his ear. “I will only let you cum if you call me your Alpha, beg to cum, and put this around your neck.” she said, taking off her collar and handing it to the beast.



“Never.” Mitar snarled, looking at the sharp blade in the woman’s hand



“Well then.” Frida said with a grin, groaning as she pulled the beast’s knot out of her. “I guess you’ll never cum.”The wolf man groaned as the woman pulled herself off of him, knowing that if he tried to masturbate she would simply threaten him with the knife. Hell, she might even use it. “Wait!” He groaned, the woman having completely released his cock from her snatch, leaving it wet with her juices in the cool air.



“Wait, what?”



“Wait… My… A.. A…” Mitar was struggling through his sentence. He had never called someone his Alpha before. “My Alpha… Please.” He moaned, clicking the collar around his throat, which pressed against his fur making it extremely visible. “Let me cum?” He said, adding onto her request. “Let me please you again, then please let me cum” Hoping to earn some brownie points with the woman.



“Mmm… Good dog.” Frida said with a smile, gently rubbing the beast’s thick cock. “I’ll tell you what. For being such a good boy, I’ll give you a reward. But first…” the woman turned around moving onto all fours and swaying her rear in front of his face. “I want you to put that tongue to good use and get my ass nice and wet.”



“Y-your ass?” Mitar asked, his cock jumping at the thought.



“Get to it or you won’t get your reward.” Frida said, idly rubbing the beast’s hard cock. “You can;t cum just yet, boy.” she said, wiggling her dirtiest hole for the beast to start his newest task.



Mitar sighed, groaning with pleasure as the woman began to rub his thick shaft before moving up and licking at her tight hole. He had only taken her there a few times, and had never prepared her, not like this, which left Mitar’s mind wandering. Was his reward getting to fuck her here? Or was this some sort of sick perversion of hers? Either way, the beast began to lap at her ass, groaning at the taste, it was not anything like he was expecting.



Frida moaned as she felt the powerful beast under her begin to lap at her tight ring of muscles. She had always fantasized of being licked there, and to be pleased by someone so much stronger than her that she had just outwitted? Well, that was just icing on the cake! The elf began to lick and lap at the beast’s cock, reciprocating each movement he made with her own. She let out a gasp as the beast pressed his tongue into her and responded by taking his thick member into her mouth, much like the previous night. It was not long before the woman stood up and turned back around, facing the beast. “Good dog.” She said. “You’ve earned a reward.” Frida continued, moving grasping the beast’s thick cock and placing it against her newly-lubed hole. “Mmm … I’ve never gotten to take control back here… Who knows, maybe I’ll like it.” She said, holding the knife against the beast’s throat. “If you so much even think about thrusting, I will end you. Got it?” She said before giving a gasp as she lowered herself onto the beast’s cock, spreading her ass wide, the movement eased by the rim job moments before.



“You still need to ask to cum. Got it?” She said with a moan, pressing herself further down his wide cock, only stopping when she got to his knot.



“Please Fr – Alpha…” Mitar said, already at his limit, the word Alpha still new to him. “Don’t take my knot. I’ll cum.”



The woman frowned and shook her head. “Sorry, Mutt.” She said. “You do not give me orders anymore. Got it?” She said before pressing herself down, splitting herself wide as she felt the beast’s knot spear her open; locking the beast inside and rolling her hips.



“Mmm…” she gasped. “I was right. When you’re not being so abusive. This is quite — oh — good.” She gasped, rolling her hips against his twitching cock, each movement causing the wolf to grimace as he did his best to hold back his impending orgasm. “You have to try this.” she moaned, rolling her hips with more and more enthusiasm.



“What!? No you little-”



“No talking pup. And if I want you to get fucked in the ass, you will get fucked in this ass but, don’t worry. I don’t want anyone else touching my little puppy. You’re all mine, got it?” The wolf whimpered and gave a slow nod. “Good. Mm.. Now…” she said, grabbing the beast’s large hand and pressing it against her drooling snatch. “When you make me cum, I will let you finish, alright?” the elf said, the beast’s hand quickly rubbing and gently pinching her clit.



“Ohhh…” Mitar groaned, doing his best to hold his orgasm back as the woman’s tight ass squeezed and twitched around him as his fingers pressed into her wet sex. “Ohh … Fuck… Alpha… I can’t hold it back much longer…”



“Shut it, mutt.” Frida said, leaning back and flicking his balls, causing the beast to yelp in pain. “Make me cum first. Mmm .. Just like that… More…” She groaned, rolling against the beast’s cock and hand, each second that passed bringing her closer and closer to her edge. “Oh.. Oh… Oh!” She gasped, clenching against the beast’s fingers and thick cock, her juices wetting his fur as she came. “Oh… Fuck… Okay.. Pup… You may cum.” she moaned, beginning to grind her hips, trying to please the beast to be filled with his thick, wondrous, cream.



“Oh… Alpha… fuck!” Mitar groaned, feeling his orgasm finally reach the point of no return, his cock twitching before, at last, spurting out what felt like gallons of cum into the woman’s ass, the thick white fluid leaking out around his cock, his knot unable to hold everything inside of her.



“Mm… good pet…” Frida moaned, gasping as she rolled against the beast’s softening shaft, trying to get every last drop from him. “Mmm…” She said, finally standing up, releasing his thick shaft and moaning as his warm cream leaked from her tight ass before it sealed everything in. “Okay pet. I’m going to go wash up. You get dressed and and cook that bird. We’ll eat as we walk. Pack up camp while you’re at it. Okay?” She said with a teasing smile, watching as the wolf began to do her bidding. It was not long until the pair were ready to go, Mitar carrying their packs, and Frida holding him by a leash; their new roles would take some getting used to but something just felt right as they headed towards the city.

“Look, I’m awfully sorry about this,” Gavin said, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to eat you.” The cat just stared up at him. “It’s no good giving me that look! My father is dead, my brother has disowned me, and the only thing Papa left me in the will was a cat and a pair of high-heeled boots. My stomach is howling. I’ve got to eat you, and before the week is out I’ll probably have to eat the boots as well.” Gavin would have eaten the cat already, but he wasn’t quite sure how one prepared a cat for the table. He’d asked three women how exactly one ate pussy, and had gotten slapped twice and received a rather disgusting proposition from an elderly woman down the street. Clearly, this was something he’d have to figure out for himself.



The cat wasn’t making it any easier. It didn’t mew pitifully in anticipation of its fate; it simply stared at him with a vaguely contemptuous look on its face. “I’m no happier about it than you are!” Gavin said plaintively. Then he paused. “Alright, I’m slightly happier, I suppose, if I were to be honest, but I’m definitely not thrilled. A week ago, I was living a life of comfort and ease, son of a wealthy landowner, and now look at me! Dusty, starving, and penniless. Papa must have been mad in his old age to think that my brother would take care of me. Or he must simply have been mad. Let’s face it, when your will reads, ‘I leave my youngest son the cat and the boots’, the bit at the beginning about ‘sound mind and body’ seems a trifle suspect.”



The cat blinked haughtily. Gavin sighed. It was no good, he just wasn’t the sort of person who could kill an animal, at least not while it was staring him in the face. He sat down and started absently scratching the cat behind the ears. He’d just have to try to figure out how to stomach the boots. “I suppose it could have been a cruel joke of some sort,” he said. “I always thought Papa doted on me, and certainly my brother thought so as well. But this…it’s not the sort of behavior one thinks of as ‘loving’.”



“Oh, I don’t know,” said the cat. “He gave you his two greatest treasures in all the world, the tools with which he made his fortune. That sounds fairly nice to me.”



Gavin leapt back to his feet. “You can talk!” he said.



The cat sighed. “So can you,” she said, “but I don’t feel any great need to shout about that.”



Gavin blinked rapidly in astonishment. “But lots of people talk!” he said. “You’re the first talking cat I’ve ever seen!”



“Yes, well, you’ve probably led a sheltered life.” The cat got up and stretched. “Look, we’ve got rather a lot to get through, here, so can we simply take it as read that you’ve gotten used to the fact that I can talk? I’d rather not spend the next twenty minutes guiding you through the culture shock of learning about magical animals.”



“You’re magical?” Gavin said, his voice filled with wonder.



“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then,” the cat said, sitting back down in a bit of a huff. “Yes, I’m magical. I’m an immortal, magical, talking cat that happens to be very clever to boot. Your father saved me from a pack of wild dogs, and in return, I promised him that I would make him and his children and his children’s children wealthy and prosperous.”



“But–but–I thought he kept you around the house to hunt mice!” Gavin said.



“Oh, I do that too, but that’s only because he was already wealthy and prosperous. I’d rather hoped that having gotten him a big pile of money, the children and children’s children could take care of themselves, but he decided that primogeniture was the way to go when making out his will, so I’m right back to square one. Well, square two. I had to help him get hold of the boots, originally.”



“The boots are magical too?”



“Sharp as a tack, aren’t you?” the cat said, although not too unkindly. “Yes, the boots are magical. Go ahead and stand them up, and put me into them feet first.”



Gavin reached into the cloth sack that was his brother’s only gift to him on seeing him out of the house, and pulled out a pair of high-heeled boots. They were quite tall, probably coming right up to the thigh of most women, but given that they looked dusty, old and cracked, he doubted that many women would wear them. Still, he didn’t know much about the taste of women, or of cats for that matter, and so he stood the boots up and, holding the cat up just underneath its front paws, awkwardly put its two rear paws into them.



The resultant blaze of light made Gavin squinch his eyes shut, and so instead of seeing the cat change, he merely felt its flesh twist and stretch under his fingers as it grew. Within seconds, he could no longer feel his hands touch each other around the cat’s chest. Within moments, the cat felt as big around as a human being. As the light subsided, Gavin cautiously opened his eyes.



Where he had once held a cat, his hands now wrapped around a female of a decidedly different persuasion. She still had the fur and whiskers of her former feline self, and her face had a decidedly feline cast to it, but her shape and size had become human. Very human, Gavin realized with a start as he noticed where his hands had wound up after the transformation was complete. He whipped them away with a start.



The cat pouted just a little. “I was just beginning to enjoy that!” she said. “It felt a bit like going into heat. Is that how human women feel any time someone touches their breasts?”



Gavin blushed. “How would I know?” he asked indignantly. “I’m barely eighteen, and not yet married. I don’t know how cats do these things, but among humans, we don’t even see those things until our wedding nights, let alone have casual chats about how touching them feels.”



“Oh, my,” the cat said. ‘Sheltered life’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, I see. Well, I suppose I can educate you as we go along.”



“Go along?” Gavin asked. “Go along where?”



“To make you wealthy, of course.” The cat idly looked at her hands, wiggling her newly-lengthened fingers and sheathing and unsheathing her claws a few times. “I’m bound by Deepest Magic to honor my promise to your father–you’re not the best material I’ve had to work with, but needs must, I suppose. Just try not to say or do anything too stupid. When in doubt, remain silent. You’re good-looking, well-built, and you smell nice. That’s probably your best asset. Well, that and me and the boots.”



“But–but you can’t go wandering around like that! People will think you’re a demon, or a monster or something! Besides, how are you going to make me wealthy with just a pair of old boots?” Although, he noticed, they didn’t look old anymore. On the contrary, the red leather looked shiny and new against the cat’s white fur.



“You’re absolutely right,” the cat said. “I’ll also need a stone with a hole in it, and a piece of string.”



*****



The string didn’t take long–Gavin pulled out a lace from his own dusty boots, leaving his right shoe quite a bit looser on him, but giving Puss (for so she’d insisted on being called) the string she needed. The stone, on the other hand, took quite a bit longer. But eventually, Gavin found one that had sat under a tiny waterfall for long enough that a hole had worn right through the center of it.



“Perfect,” Puss said, taking the stone and slipping the shoelace through it. She tied a knot around the stone. “All we need to make a fortune. Come on, let’s head down to the town.”



“How will that help us make a fortune?” Gavin said as they walked. “Is it a sort of luck charm? Is it magic too? I’ve heard that stones with holes in them are supposed to bring you luck.”



“No, that’s just something people say,” Puss said. “Not everything’s magic, you know. You’ve lived eighteen years without seeing anything magic, why would you start assuming everything is just because you’ve seen two magical things in one day?”



“Because without some magic, a stone with a hole in it isn’t much good for anything other than making a necklace,” Gavin replied, a bit stung.



“The magic is in the boots,” Puss said. “They don’t just turn cats into people, you know. Well, people-ish. That’s a side effect; the boots adapted my body into something that could wear them. No, the boots amplify animal magnetism. Anyone who’s wearing them becomes a master hypnotist.”



“So that was how you made my father his fortune? You hypnotized people into giving them money?”



“No, no,” Puss said, stopping as they passed close by a farm. “I advised. He did all the hypnotizing himself.”



“He hypnotized people? Then…”



Puss hopped over the fence and headed up to the farmhouse. “I only advise, I don’t judge or morally censure. Besides, they actually looked rather good on him.” She looked around. “A-ha!”



“A-ha?” Gavin looked around too, but all he saw was a girl feeding chickens. She was a pretty young thing, far prettier than you’d expect from a farmer’s daughter, but not exactly anything to ‘a-ha!’ over. Especially not given that Puss was a…Gavin looked over at her for a moment, wishing he knew where to lay his hands on some ladies’ clothes…a female cat.



“Our first step on the way to prosperity,” Puss said. “Wait here, and don’t look in my direction or listen to anything I say.” She walked up to the girl. “Excuse me, miss? What’s your name?” she said.



“Bess,” the girl said, still feeding the chickens. Then she looked up. “Goodness,” she said, “but if you aren’t the strangest cat I’ve ever seen!”



Puss smiled ingratiatingly. “I’m a rare breed,” she said. “Felis financis, the selling cat. I’ve come here today to interest you in my line of luck trinkets.” She held up the stone, letting it dangle and swing from the shoelace. “This is a stone with a hole in it. I’m sure you’ve heard of their magical properties.”



“Well, yes,” Bess said, “but I thought that was just something people said.” She looked at the stone. “How does it work?”



“Well, you just continue to stare at it,” Puss said, her voice taking on a soft purring quality, “and soon the magic begins to do its work. It starts by attracting your eyes to it. Notice how you’re already finding it very difficult to look away from the soft, gentle swinging motion?”



Bess nodded absently. “Yes, but that doesn’t seem very…” Her voice stilled for a moment as her eyes followed the dangling stone. “Um…very magical.”



“That’s only the beginning, my lovely,” Puss said. “Just stare at the stone a little while longer, and you’ll see that it has all sorts of magical powers.” She added a little flick of her fingers to the gentle motion of her wrist, causing the stone to spin as it swung. “For example, it has the magic of affinity. You understand affinity, don’t you, my dear? The way that some things become like other things when they are near each other?”



“Um…” Bess furrowed her brow, her glassy eyes still watching the spinning, swinging stone. “I…”



“Just say ‘yes’, dear. It’s easier.”



“Yes…”



“Exactly!” Puss smiled. “The stone has the power to make you become like it. It dangles, heavy and pulled down at the end of the string. And because you are near to it, you too feel heavy, like you’re being pulled down.” The girl began to sway dangerously, and Puss spoke quickly but calmly. “But just as the stone is dangling from the string, you are dangling from my words. My words hold you upright, just as the string holds the stone.”



Bess steadied slightly, but she still looked like she wanted nothing more than to slump to the ground. “Uh-huh,” she mumbled.



“And just like the string is tied around the stone, my words are tying around you. My words are just wrapping around your mind, because your mind is becoming like the stone now as well. The stone doesn’t think; it doesn’t need to think. The stone just goes where the string directs it.” Puss raised the stone slightly as she spoke, putting it just an inch or two above the girl’s eye level, making her have to look up to see it. Her head kept drooping downwards, and her eyes rolled up slightly as she tried to keep following the motion of the stone. “Your mind just goes where my words direct it.”



“oh,” Bess said, her voice empty and her face placid.



“You can feel how powerful the stone is now, can’t you, my dear?”



“uh-huh…” she sighed out.



“So you’d definitely like to purchase it, then.” Puss didn’t even make it a question.



“uh-huh…”



“Good, good. Luckily, we’re running a special today. How old are you?”



There was a long pause while Bess tried to remember how to respond to a question that couldn’t be answered with ‘oh’ or ‘uh-huh’. “Nineteen,” she said.



“And still a virgin?”



She smiled vacantly, back on familiar ground. “uh-huh…”



“Perfect, perfect. Luckily for you, that’s the cost of the stone, the complete mindless obedience of a nineteen-year-old virgin. Once you agree to do everything I say without questioning, totally subservient to my will, the stone is yours.” Puss paused. “Do you agree?”



“uh-huh,” Bess responded, her eyes glazing over completely as she became blank and docile.



“Very good,” Puss said, letting the stone come to rest. “Here you go!” Bess held out her hand obediently, and Puss placed the stone in her palm. “Now, my dear, you know you must obey all my commands, yes?”



“uh-huh,” Bess replied.



“Good. Give me the stone.” Bess handed it right back to Puss. “Good girl. Now come along, we’ve got things to do.” She headed back down to the fence where Gavin waited, knowing that Bess followed. “One down,” Puss said, “twenty-three to go! Although I don’t think we’ll be that lucky every time.”



“You…” Gavin just stared open-mouthed at the hypnotized girl for a long moment, trying to frame a response. He knew better by now than to say, ‘You hypnotized her!’ in astonishment, but it took a while before anything else came to mind. “You don’t think it’ll work every time?” he said at last.



“I don’t think we’ll find twenty-four virgins in a row, that’s what I think,” Puss said. “God, I don’t know how human women handle it, not knowing when they’re in heat or not. At least when I was a cat I wasn’t horny every day of the month.”



Gavin didn’t quite know how to answer that. He just kept staring at the hypnotized girl, his cock stirring in a way that left him thinking that perhaps waiting for marriage wasn’t all they said it was after all. “I’m sure we’ll find plenty of virgins,” he said absently. He found himself walking towards the girl almost without conscious volition, as though led by his stiffened cock. “In fact, I was just thinking…”



“Don’t,” Puss said, holding out a hand between him and Bess and letting her claws show. “It’s not your strong suit. We need twenty-four virgins before the king and his retinue head down this road in a few days, and I don’t have the time to indulge your appetites on top of that.” She leaned up against the fence, letting her legs spread and her hindquarters show. “If you want to stick that somewhere, you can slip it into me. I won’t mind one little bit.”



“You?” Gavin said, aghast. “But you’re all…furry!”



“Only on the outside,” Puss purred. “Inside, I’m just like any other girl.” She wiggled her hips a little and twitched her tail. “Find out for yourself.”



Gavin held up a hand. “No thank you,” he said. “It’s nothing personal, you understand. I just remember you when you were less than two feet long and ate mice. It’s kind of difficult to get that out of my head.” He looked back at Bess. “Are you sure I couldn’t just…”



Puss stood up, her fur quite literally ruffled. “Quite sure,” she said. “I’m going to make you wealthy and prosperous if I have to drag you along kicking and screaming, thank you ever so much Deepest Magic. We need twenty-four virgins, and we need them fast.”



“Why twenty-four?” Gavin asked.



“Because it’s twice as impressive as twelve, and four times as impressive as six. And frankly, given that you’re a penniless boy with nothing to your name but a cat, a pair of boots, and a stone with a hole in it, you need to be as impressive as you can get in order to catch the attention of the King.”



Gavin frowned. “What king?”



The king,” Puss said. “King Mark. He’s touring his kingdom after a long border campaign against the giants to the south, surveying the lands and making note of what’s been going on while he’s been off at the wars. Frankly, we have good timing here. He’s scarcely got any idea at all of what’s been going on in his kingdom, and passing you off as a nobleman couldn’t be easier.”



Gavin raised his eyebrows. “How do you know all this?”



“I listen.” Puss still sounded a little sulky over having her offer of sex rejected. “People don’t tend to worry if a cat is listening when they talk. Now come on, we’ve got a lot of walking to do and a lot of girls to talk to.” With that, she headed down the road, and Gavin fell into step beside her.



Bess, of course, trotted obediently behind them.



*****



Three days, fifty miles, and twenty-three virgins later, and Gavin was beginning to feel quite put out with his ‘benefactor’. Puss had found a number of girls whose past behavior had made them quite unsuitable for her purposes, but had she let Gavin touch a single one? No, she had not. She’d set those girls to cooking them meals, cleaning their clothes, or giving them a place to sleep, but afterwards, she’d set them free without giving Gavin even a single chance to dip his wick.



Gavin could tell it was just out of jealousy. Puss didn’t even try very hard to hide it. She refused to take any clothing, leaving herself shamelessly naked save for the red boots. Every time he brought up sex, she suggested that she would make a far better bedwarmer than any of the mindless girls she’d enslaved. By this point, though, he was determined not to sleep with her as much out of obstinacy as anything else. He’d be damned if he went crawling to her now, just because his cock was like an iron bar in his trousers and his balls ached with every waking moment. There were so many pretty young human girls; why would he decide to rut with a beast?



That, of course, seemed to have made Puss as obstinate in her desire to have him as he was to avoid her, and just as irritated with him as he was with her. By the time they stopped by the far side of the river, all they’d been doing for some time was bickering about sex. So when she said, “Strip out of those clothes, Gavin,” it certainly didn’t seem unusual.



Gavin sighed heavily. “We’ve already gone over this, Puss,” he snapped. Behind them, the girls chattered amiably in the manner of servants everywhere, their minds now only loosely held in the grip of trance until such time as Puss needed them to go deeper. “I don’t wish to seem ungrateful for your services to myself and my family, but I wasn’t the one who added ‘and your children and your children’s children’ to the end of that promise, now was I? The way I see it, it’s this ‘Deepest Magic’ thing that owes you a roll in the hay, not me.”



“Believe it or not, Gavin,” Puss said, “I am able to think about more than just sex with you. My hearing’s better than a human’s, and I can hear hoofbeats approaching and the creak of carriage wheels. That means the King’s party is coming. They’re not far off, either. And since humans don’t have enough taste to like a good strong smell on their manfolk, you need to wash off a bit in the river before you’re fit to meet the king.”



“What about you?” Gavin grumbled, pulling his shirt off. “You’re almost completely naked, and the only bathing you’ve been doing is licking yourself off at night!”



“Ever hear the expression ‘A cat may look at a king’?” Puss said. “It works both ways, especially when the cat has breasts like these. He might be surprised, but he certainly won’t mind.”



Gavin finished stripping. “Alright,” he said, wading into the river as Puss followed his movements with her eyes. “But–but…” He ducked down into the cool water, hiding his body from view. “At least stop enjoying this!” he cried out.

Puss purred out, “Whatever would make you think I was enjoying this?” Then she scooped up his clothes in a single swift motion and threw them as far out into the river as she could. Within moments, the current had carried them far away from view.



Gavin stood up, practically speechless for a moment. Then he saw that Puss was staring at him like a starving man greets a banquet, and crouched back down in the water again. “What–why–Puss, I need those! If this is some prank of yours to get to see me naked, it’s in very poor taste! The King will be along any minute!”



Puss grinned, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth. “I know. That’s why I did it. I just didn’t think you’d agree if I said, ‘Excuse me, can I chuck your clothes into the river? If the King sees you wearing them, he’ll never believe you’re a nobleman.’ Plus, it gave me the chance to see your ass.”



“Oh,” Gavin said, “and I suppose he’ll be perfectly willing to believe that I’m noble if I’m naked as a jaybird?”



“Only one way to find out,” Puss said. With that, she sprinted up the riverbank to the bridge, shouting, “Help! Robbers! Thieves! Oh, won’t someone please help my master, the Marquis de Carabas!”



Just then, a party of mounted men and carriages reached the bridge and began to cross. With a commotion, two of them rode on ahead at faster speed, reaching Puss in a matter of moments. “What’s all this about a robbery?” one said. He wore chainmail armor, and the sword by his side had clearly seen a number of battles, yet had been well cared for.



“Oh, it is a terrible thing,” Puss said, wringing her hands. “My master, the Marquis de Carabas, was returning from a visit to a fellow nobleman, bringing back the four-and-twenty virgins that he had been given to try to persuade him to marry (for he is much sought after as a husband, since coming of age), and he chose to tarry a moment to bathe in the river, for he is dusty and weary from his long travels.” She spoke loudly, letting her words carry to Gavin down in the river.



“And while he bathed, and I saw to the care of the girls, a rascal leapt onto his horse and rode off into the distance with it! I could not give chase (for the Marquis de Carabas’ horse is well known in these parts as being the fastest in all the kingdom) and even though it was laden down with his clothes, his armor, his sword, and his possessions, it quickly outdistanced me. Oh, alas!” She sniffled. “Please tell me you can offer him succor and ease his worries, and not simply add to our troubles on this day.”



As she spoke, the carriages rolled up to a halt, and a man got out. He wore no elaborate robes, simply the traveling garb of a man clearly used to much harder stretches on the road. Yet the air of command he wore, and the signet ring on his finger clearly said what his clothes did not, and Puss wisely curtseyed to the King. Behind him, she could just see a glimpse of golden hair as Princess Arianna edged near to the door of the carriage to hear the conversation.



“What do we have here?” King Mark asked. “Is this a new wonder that has developed in my kingdom whilst I was gone? Do all the cats walk upright now?”



“Oh, no, sire,” Puss said meekly. “I am merely one of the wonders that my master, the Marquis de Carabas, has collected on his travels. I am Arrapata Allegra, the Marquis’ major domo and master of his household, but I humbly insist you merely call me ‘Puss’, as he does. My full name is not for my betters.”



“Wonders, you say?” The King stroked his beard, intrigued, as the knight that Puss had spoken to whispered in his ears the particulars of the situation. “I’m always up for a good wonder, how about the rest of you?” There was a general murmur of assent. “What other wonders does he have?”



“Oh, many, Your Majesty,” Puss purred silkily. “He has a pile of gold as tall as a house, and a bird that speaks every language of man, and he needs no army, for his castle is guarded by an ogre ten feet tall with a magic belt that turns aside swords! It is only two days’ ride, Your Majesty, if you would like to come and inspect it. We would be most honored and gracious for your royal hospitality.”



“Very well!” King Mark said. “As you’re no doubt aware, this journey is in no small part to find a husband for my daughter, and if your castle is as wondrous as you say, I might have a proposition for your Marquis.” He looked down at the river. Gavin looked up at him and waved, feebly. King Mark stepped back into the carriage. “Find clothes and a steed for this young Marquis de Carabas, and send word back to the footmen to escort these four-and-twenty virgins of his along with them. They can catch up behind us.”



As with most kings, his men scurried to set deeds to his words, and so it was that Gavin shared a horse with Puss holding on to his waist (and wriggling up against him quite indecently) for many a mile. Gavin ached to speak, but they rode in the midst of the King’s men and every time he started to open his mouth, Puss let her claws out of their sheathes just a little, in a place more than just a little uncomfortable.



Finally, as dusk approached, Puss spotted a good-sized house in the distance. “Excuse me,” she said to the lead knight, “but that is the Marquis de Carabas’ country house! It occurs to me that it might make a good spot for the King to stay the night, even if it is unworthy of such an august personage. May we ride on ahead and inform the servants of his impending arrival?”



The knight nodded, dropping back to inform the King. Gavin whipped up the reins, giving the horse its head and riding quickly. “Look what you’ve done!” he whispered. “You will get us both beheaded with your lies!”



“I’ve said nothing untrue,” Puss replied. “I’ve simply ridden ahead of the truth a bit, that’s all. It will catch us up apace.”



“Nothing untrue? You’ve called me the Marquis de Carabas, whatever that is! You’ve given me a country cottage, a castle, a pile of gold and my very own ogre! And that’s quite apart from the bird thing, I can’t even pretend to understand where you came up with that one. When the king finds out you’re lying, we’re both for the chop. Oh, why did you have to come up with such stories?” Gavin moaned. “Why couldn’t you just dangle your ‘lucky stone’ in front of his eyes and hypnotize him?”



“Because he’s a king,” Puss said sensibly. “The king of the land has amulets and warding stones that protect him from such things, and has for many a generation. One too many evil Grand Viziers have tried that little trick for me to get away with it now. No, the King alone is immune to the powers these boots hold, and if I’d tried it, we really would be for the chop. Trust me, this is the best way.”



Gavin pulled the reins tight, halting the horse outside a country house. “Best way? Where are you going to get a–a house, and a castle, and a pile of gold, and an ogre and a Carabas?”



Puss rolled her eyes as she knocked on the door. “This is Carabas,” she said. “We’re in Carabas. What, did your father teach you riding but not geography?” The door opened, and before the startled man inside could say a single word, Puss dangled the stone before his eyes. “Greetings, good sir,” she said rapidly. “I am an emissary of good King Mark, who approaches even this very moment, and he offers you this stone in payment for a night’s stay. Now, sir, you might think it an unfair trade, but I tell you, this stone has hypnotic powers. Just looking at it sends any man or woman into a deep, obedient hypnotic trance. Think of all the things you could do if you had a stone that was this powerful, this irresistible, this mesmerizing.”



The man had already drifted halfway into trance before he could even speak, and Gavin looked more than a little mazy himself. Puss clapped her free hand over Gavin’s eyes and continued. “Exactly, sir. The magic of the stone can turn anyone into a blank, mindless, hypnotized slave, make them believe whatever they’re told. Surely you can see that?” He simply nodded. “In fact, it would make you believe that you are but the caretaker of this house, watching it for its true owner, the Marquis de Carabas. It would make you believe that the stone is his by right, since you are but his servant, obedient to him in all things. It would even make you believe that since I hold the stone, symbol of the power of the Marquis de Carabas, you must therefore obey me in all things as well. Doesn’t that make sense?”



The man nodded vacantly. “Good. I’d like to talk to the other inhabitants of the house now, servant.”



By the time the king’s carriage arrived, the full retinue of servants (a husband, a wife, and three children) were waiting to greet him. The race to get them all properly hypnotized had quite driven Gavin’s questions out of his head–and listening to Puss brainwash five people in rapid succession hadn’t helped. But seeing the King brought them all back. “Quite nice,” His Majesty said, getting out. This time, Princess Arianna got out behind him, and Gavin’s heart leapt to see her beauty. “Beats sleeping rough, eh, daughter?”



Arianna smiled gently. “Father and I are most pleased by your hospitality,” she said. The look she gave Gavin suggested that she was far from unhappy with her latest marriage prospect.



“We’re most honored by your visit,” he stammered out, blushing wildly. “Please, step inside. I’ll have the servants fix you something to eat.” Beside him, he was aware of Puss looking at him with a little surprise on her face. Really, did she think he’d learned no etiquette at all as the son of a landowner?



But after dinner, when the king and his retinue had been settled in for the night, Gavin returned to the topic at hand. “So what do we do now?” he whispered tightly. “We certainly can’t take them to the castle tomorrow! The real Marquis de Carabas will be waiting for us, and even if you do hypnotize him, you can’t conjure up an ogre and a pile of gold!”



Puss opened the door and headed out into the night air. “The real Marquis de Carabas is dead,” she whispered back. “The ogre ate him, took over his castle, and has been waylaying travelers and stealing their valuables for two years now.” She frowned. “I really hope he didn’t decide to eat the bird,” she said. “I’m pretty sure that one will seal the deal.”



“Oh, good!” Gavin said, barely remembering to keep his voice down. “So instead of leading the king into a web of fraud and deceit, we’re going to lead him to his death at the hands of an ogre that no sword can kill! Wonderful, Puss, you’ve outdone yourself.”



Puss leapt lightly onto Gavin’s horse. “Well, I’ll admit I’ve set myself a busy night, but you’d be amazed at what you can get done over the course of a single night with the thought of beheading spurring you on.” She leaned down and licked Gavin’s cheek with her coarse tongue. “Don’t wait up,” she said, spurring the horse and riding into the night. Gavin went back into the house, trying to compose himself. Puss did have her magical hypnotic powers, he thought. Even an ogre couldn’t do anything against those.



*****



“Do you take me for a fool?” the ogre roared. “Do you think me some sort of pox-brained, waxy-eared, empty-skulled, addle-pated, thick-headed, sore-encrusted peasant, that you can simply dangle your trinket before my eyes, tell me to stare at it, and I will? I am Harth, strongest of all the ogres that walk in the night! You might have had success with feeble humans, but if this is the best you can think of, kitten, I will feast upon your flesh, whittle your bones into toothpicks to pull out the scraps, and make your skin into a rug for my wall.”



Puss winced. She’d managed to deal with the frightened villagers that Harth had terrorized into working for him easily enough; it hadn’t even taken much supernatural charisma, merely a long-standing tradition that anyone who defeated the ogre would become the new Marquis de Carabas. (Which hadn’t stopped her from using just a little hypnosis to smooth things over and integrate their memories with the story she’d told the King.) Now all that was needed was to hypnotize the ogre…but he was being anything other than co-operative.



“Are you sure you don’t want to look at the stone?” she asked. “It’s a very pretty, soothing spinning stone, you’d feel much happier if you looked at it.”



“No, I wouldn’t!” the ogre shouted, rising to his feet from the stone bench he sat upon. His full ten feet of height loomed over Puss. “I’d feel happier grabbing my club and turning you into mashed kitling!”



He stomped over towards the massive greatclub that stood by the fireplace. “You don’t want to grab that club,” Puss said, keeping her voice low and soothing. She’d been hoping to use the stone as much as possible–an old magician’s trick to conceal the true source of one’s power–but she’d also been hoping not to have her bones smashed like dry twigs.



“Pah!” Harth’s voice boomed out in the great hall. “You’ve never met an ogre before, have you, little cat?”



Puss bristled at the thought of being called ‘little’, given that she’d gained five feet of height in the last four days, but when the ogre picked up the club and raised it over his head, almost scraping the rafters of the high, vaulted ceiling, she had to admit that she took his point. “Well,” she said, “it has been a while. Your kind generally sticks to the mountains, my kind generally sticks to barns and cozy beds. But I don’t recall hearing anything special about you. Let me see…” She held up a hand and began to count on her fingers the things she knew about ogres.



“You’re big…” She looked up at him as he stepped closer to her, his footsteps booming on the stone floor. “Check. Ill-tempered…” Harth roared, and Puss leapt out of the way as the club crashed down not an inch from where she’d stood, cracking the flagstones where it hit. “Check! Strong…” She looked over at the fractured stone. “We’ll just take that one as read. Stubborn…of course!” she cried out, dodging another blow from the club. “That’s what’s going on here, isn’t it?” She’d actually figured out not just what was going on, but what to do about it; her new plan required a bit of ready wit, though, and it couldn’t hurt to hide her light under a bushel just a bit.



“Indeed!” Harth cried out. “We ogres are well known as the most stubborn, most obstinate, most contrary creatures in all existence! Why, in a race between an ogre and a mule, the mule will reach the finish line before the ogre’s even set off! None of your whimpering, pleading little ‘hypnotic suggestions’ will work on me, and if that’s the only plan you have, girl, you’d best make peace with your ancestors, for I will be wiping my feet upon your back soon enough.”



“So that’s why I can’t hypnotize you,” Puss said, backing up. “Because you couldn’t be hypnotized if you tried! Well, then I’m definitely going to need to think of a different plan, because some people are just talented subjects and some aren’t, and you don’t have what it takes.”



The ogre roared again, swiping the club in a flat arc that forced Puss to dive to the ground. “More of your simpering trickery?” Harth shouted. “Come up with all the plans you like, my strength of arm and strength of will can best them all! Oh, I grow so damnably sick of humans, thinking they’re better than ogres!”



Puss rolled out of the way of another booming strike from the club. “I’m not human!” she cried out. “Notice the fur? And anyway, humans are better than ogres! I’ve walked up and down this land for the past four days now, and I haven’t met a single human that didn’t know how to go into a trance! But when I showed you my spinning stone, you didn’t even know what it was for!”



Harth’s face contorted in fury. “I knew what it was for!” he shouted. “I just didn’t want to be hypnotized by some slip of a girl!”



“Oh, of course,” Puss said, getting to her feet and putting a hand on her hip in a mocking pose. “You certainly can be hypnotized, you just ‘don’t want to’. Why didn’t I see it before? It has nothing to do with the fact that the simplest of human children can sink into a deep, obedient trance, and Harth, mightiest of the ogres, can’t do it. You just ‘didn’t want to’.”



Harth slammed the club into the ground, leaning on it. “Are you doubting my word?” he boomed. “Are you suggesting for even one trifling moment that I couldn’t be hypnotized if I let myself?”



“Suggesting, no. Openly stating, yes.” Puss threw her hands up in surrender. “You were right all along. Clearly, I’ve made a terrible mistake, trusting my survival to a plan to hypnotize a creature that is absolutely incapable of going into even the lightest trance. You might as well go ahead and pulp me with that club of yours, because if the alternative is getting Harth of the ogres to go into a trance, I’m sunk.” She sighed. “You just can’t hold up your end of things, I’m afraid.”



“Oh, yes I can!” Harth shouted.



“Oh, no you can’t!” Puss replied.



“Oh, yes I can!” Harth shouted.



“Oh, no you can’t!” Puss replied again. Puss hoped she could wrap this up soon, she was starting to feel like a pantomime character.



“Oh, yes–look, I’ll prove it to you!” the ogre said, sitting down on the floor. “You show me that little rock of yours, and I’ll sink into a trance so fast it’ll make your pretty little head spin!”



“Well,” Puss said, letting the stone unwrap from around her wrist again and dangling it in the air, “I’ll show it to you, but it’s not going to do one little bit of good. I certainly doubt that you’ll be able to follow it with your eyes, for example. You just don’t have the skill to keep them utterly locked onto the motion of the swaying stone no matter where I swing it.”



“Oh, yeah?” Harth said, his anger now replaced by smug confidence. “Just you watch, I’ll focus on it perfectly!”



“Yes,” Puss said, in a somewhat mollified tone, “it does appear that you’re following the motion of the stone pretty well. But that’s only the first part of hypnosis. I know that you can’t listen to everything I say and let it sink into your mind, for example. You can’t become sleepy, and I highly doubt that your limbs are managing to become heavy and relaxed.”



Harth rested his chin on his knees, following the motion of the stone perfectly. “Yes I can,” he said softly, his tone losing its inflections and becoming smooth and neutral. “I’m becoming very sleepy, now. Very, very sleepy.”



“Well…alright, I’ll admit that you’ve managed to master most of the elements of hypnosis. But there’s one trick you’ll never manage, no matter how hard you try. It’s just not in your nature. You’ll never be able to become perfectly obedient to my will, sinking so deep into trance that you must obey my every command, now and forever. Humans can manage it, but you…” She sighed. “I just don’t think you can do it.”



“Oh, yes I can,” Harth said.



“Oh, no you can’t!” Puss replied.



“oh, yes i can…” Harth sighed out softly.



“Oh, no you can’t!” Puss replied.



“oh! yes, i can,” the ogre said in astonishment.



“Oh, yes you can,” Puss said with a smirk. “Now, Harth, I’d like to talk to you about your Master, the Marquis de Carabas…”



*****



And so it was that the King entered the castle of the Marquis de Carabas the next morning, with the Marquis himself (and his unaccountably tired major domo) by his side. He was most taken with the mighty ogre that guarded the gates, yet spoke with courtly etiquette, and with the spontaneous and raucous celebrations the peasants were throwing that day. He saw for himself the pile of gold more than twice the height of a man, and even chatted in the southern tongue with the bird (which looked a little bedraggled, but spoke quite prettily.) Before the day was out, the arrival feast had become a wedding feast, and Gavin took oaths with Princess Arianna in the eyes of the local priest. He spent the evening with his new father-in-law and the knights (as was the custom, in those days), and returned home in a fine state of happiness. He bounded up the stairs to his bedchamber three at a time, thinking of nothing but the moment when he and Arianna would lie together as man and wife…

There I was walking down Main St about 10:00 pm. This was not my normal time to be out but when you’re a wolf, well there isn’t much you can do. I am a furry as most humans call me. I am a small wolf about 6 feet tall and 6 inches from head to tail and my name is Robert. My fur is a luscious deep purple and my eyes are a dark blood red. I have to wear clothes and learned to stand on my hind legs to be able to fit in with my human counterparts. I had been arrested once for no clothes, oh that was a bad night but to continue with my story, I was walking to the local coffee shop. I had gone there to get coffee but something amazing was going to happen that would change my life forever.



As I opened the door to the coffee shop it is completely empty which is a surprise because it is a popular place to hang out, or so I have been told. I also noticed that there was no one at the counter as well. As I walked up there was one person working. They were bent over sorting some cups and I immediately noticed their ass. It was small and perky, but with a little chub on it, like a bubble butt. As he stood up and looked behind him, he blushes not realizing I was staring. I snapped out of the trance looking at him. He was a rabbit about 5 feet tall black fur with red tipped ears and tail with a red ring around the right eye. I smiled softly



“I am sorry for staring but you are really attractive.”



He blushed more and plays with his ear.



“Well my name is Jesse and how may I help you?”



“When do you get off?”



“In about 30 minutes so would you like some coffee?”



I said yes and he made me a cup. I went to sit down on one of the couches to watch some news while he cleaned up. Every now and then I would glance as his ass as it swayed while he worked like he was teasing me. I sighed in bliss. I finished my coffee and all he had to do was lock up and since it was Friday he had the weekend off.



“So Jesse you want to come back to my place we could hang or have some fun…”



“What kind of fun?”



“Oh lets wait and see…”



He laughed as we walked down the street and he reached out his paw to mine which surprised me but I held his a well.



We walked to my door as I opened it I had a two room condo with a kitchen and 2 bathroom. He plopped down on my couch smiling.



“Nice place Robert is almost like home…”



“What are you saying; you want to live here Jesse?”



“I would love to…”



I said yes and he jumped in to my arms and kissed my cheek. I blushed bright red and kissed him back on the lips as he kissed me back, our tongues met and moved against each other as saliva ran down our chins. I took him to the bedroom and put him on the bed and ripped his clothes off as he did mine. Even though I out sized him it was amazing to find a lover. I kissed him roughly and pinned his arms to the bed I could feel his cock come out of his sheath as well as mine. His was good 6 inches but mine was an 8 inch but his was cute so it made up for it. I kissed his neck and down his chest, he moaned softly as I came to his cock. I licked the tips softly to hear him moan before I took it in my mouth. I sucked on his cock greedily with loud sucking noises, my tongue rubbing all over it as he moaning loudly till he came in my mouth. I opened my mouth to him as I swallowed and smiled as he blushed.



“Oh babe that was the first time a man has sucked me off…”



I smiled as I kissed his chest up to him as I kissed his lips again.



“Baby can I fuck you?” He nodded and got on all fours my hard cock rubbing against his asshole. He moaned softly as I slid it inside him his ass tight.



“Oh baby I didn’t know you were a virgin.”



He only moaned in response as I began to fuck him slowly getting rougher moaning too. He moaned my name over and over as my hard throbbing cock went in and out of his wet soft tight asshole until I came inside him my cock shooting hot cum inside. He had cum again all over the bed blushing. I pulled the sheets over us and cuddled him to my chest as we both fell asleep in bliss and love.



The End—to be continued—

Categories
May 2017
M T W T F S S
« Feb    
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031  
Categories