FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sara couldn't believe that this was happening… is what the lizard would say, were there anyone around to ask her about it. In reality it made sense, and was almost the sensible continuation of what had happened to her the other night. All the same feelings were still there, from the shock to the fear and anxiousness, to the heart-pounding worry, the energetic restlessness… the deep, simmering pleasure, the indulgent delight, the guilty interest.

Above and behind her, the feral dog's hot breath puffed up underneath her skirt and flipped the hem over. The lizard grasped at the ground, shoulders stinging where it had scratched her and pushed her down; thick globs of drool, and perhaps blood, dripped down her shoulder as well from where the bullmastiff had seized around her neck. A few days ago this very same beast had accosted her in the alley outside the inn, and put her through one of the most world-shaking experiences of her life… and here he was, about to repeat the process.

Only, different this time. Sara gasped as the dog mounted her from behind, his huge barrel-chest pushing against her back, his strong forelegs clasping around her body, his paws scraping back towards her waist. Last time he had left her wet, and panting, and shaking against the wall by the street, soaked in drool and the residual slickness of her two orgasms, practically forced upon his tongue… and since then she had had trouble sleeping at night remembering that event, how ashamed it had made her feel, how deeply she had enjoyed it.

The bullmastiff squeezed his muzzle down along her shoulder now, forepaws grasping her waist, powerful hips thrusting forward, again, again. Sara lurched with the momentum of his powerful body, grimacing every time she felt his fully hard shaft push along the bared skin and scale of her thighs: tonight she wore her work outfit, all loose frills and bare skin for the sake of the regular customers, with a couple of easy-release fastenings for the more adventurous, higher-paying night patrons.

But that had backfired tonight, as she had strode out back for a quick break. A glimmer of eyeshine in the darkness, a low, rumbling growl which first frightened her and then tickled some essence of recognition… and then the next thing she knew, the feral dog had backed her into the corner in the alleyway, slavering from the jaws, his full arousal bouncing beneath his belly and leaving a trail of trickling wetness across the stone. His tongue at her neck, across her cheek, inside of her mouth; his teeth nipping her lip, pulling her head up and to the side, then grasping her shoulder, forcing her to drop to all fours and roll over; the tug and tear of her clothing ripping beneath fang and claw, the attention of his wet nose, his sloppy lips, his hungry tongue beneath the base of her tail and then lower again, sending those same sharp shocks of pleasure mixed with disgust through her, too good for her to resist.

Then he pounded forward again, and plunged up inside of her, and Sara felt the contours of the feral dog's hard cock pushing into her, the wet, slimy heat of his arousal, the little twitches and throbs and the stretch of his girth spreading her – and she gasped, and moaned, and dropped her muzzle to her arm along the dusty ground. Atop her the bullmastiff tossed his head back and growled out with what she could only imagine was sweet, indulgent pleasure, then immediately resumed his initial pace: his powerful hips pumped against her, his full, heavy balls swinging, smacking against the underside of her body, his blunted claws scraping at her thighs, tearing the already loose straps and fastenings of her uniform, scratching through fabric and skin both.

So much faster than her other patrons, so much harder, so much… hungrier. Thick, bestial saliva splattered across her bared neck and shoulder in sticky strands flung off from between his parted lips; when Sara turned her head to look back over her shoulder at him, all she saw was bared yellowish fangs, dripping gums, floppy tongue hanging out of his maw, dribbling down her shoulder.

Each thrust pounded her body forward, scraping her elbows and knees across the ground, the wet noise of the union smacking out into the night, forcing little breathy gasps and moans out from between her parted lips. I can't… believe it, she told herself, over and over. I can't believe – that this is happening. That I'm… letting him do this, letting him… breed me like some… street stray, and I'm…

Just like before, her own arousal tingled between her legs, simmering up each time the dog buried himself to the sheath inside of her. Thick, frothy stickiness slapped out between them every time he pulled out and then thrust back in, balls swinging, making her wince, and grimace, and… tremble, and shiver, and pant, and reflexively push back against him, already able to feel the subtle swell of his knot each time his sheath squished back. He pumped up inside of her, held there a moment, then tugged back out, pushing a little faster, a little deeper, a little stronger, each time.

Sara reached out across the ground, at once hoping someone would walk by and save her while at the same time, hoping that nobody would. Or, maybe, someone would walk along and then stop to watch, to see her debasing herself like this under a stray, feral beast. I couldn't do anything, she could say; there's no way I would win in a fight against a wild bullmastiff, so I just had to… get down and… let him do what he wanted… to me…

The unsteady panting worked up into quicker, faster huffs underlined with the feral's growling. Sara gritted her teeth, her loins aflame with the sensation of his fervid, urgent pounding; he thrust up against her, trembled, shifted his hindlegs, pumped again, again – and, thankfully, his knot swelled outside of her body, and instead just mashed uncomfortably up against her sensitive sex at the peak of his finish. The dog shuddered all over, squeezed down around her, and bucked into the lizard as he began to empty his load, the hot, quick spurts spraying inside of her with enough force that she thought she could actually feel them.

The beast's paws clenched around her waist as he filled her up, impressive girth throbbing, swelling out; Sara gritted her teeth, squeezed back down around him, shifted forward, felt a little bit of that loose wetness dribble back out of her, then waited for him to pull out and dismount… but he never did. Instead the dog rested his muzzle in along her neck, nuzzled into place there, and heaved a great, satisfied sigh, his tail wagging, his balls shifting, as he continued to empty out the last of his load. The fiery urgency had disappeared, pumped deep inside of her where he had relieved his need – and doubtless would again, and again, and again in the future.

And the thought made Sara squirm underneath him, her own arousal still simmering, warring with that embarrassment, the humiliation, the slight shame. The lizard shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, seeing if she could maybe pull herself free.

As long as it's in the alley here, I… suppose I don't mind… too much…