Werewolf Wine
#231 of Commissions
Commission for IrvingWrites!
One sip of transformative wine is enough to bring the inner wolf out of friendly dog Irving. Indira is here for it. She wants to see how far he'll go, how well the transformation takes within him. Just how rough will the were-dog get with the lusty older tigress?
Contains: Werewolf transformation, role reversal, rough sex, breeding, musk, dominance, and more!
Irving wasn't about to turn down an invitation to drink wine with a beautiful woman, even if she was twice his age. He'd have hardly guessed it. The German shepherd wandered into the humble domain of the soft-spoken blue tigress with a skip in his step and a slight wag in his tail. They'd spoken occasionally before while around mutual friends or the like, but it was certainly the first time they'd ever been completely alone together. He didn't fully know what to expect. Seeing her seated there so casually, dressed down in little more than a long house robe came as a surprise. She always had that certain intensity, that silent elegance whenever he saw her among company. The flattering thought occurred to him when he saw her there, relaxing - she felt truly comfortable around him. There probably weren't many who could say the same.
"Hey Indi," he simply said as he made his way into her living room. It smelled like tea and flowers in there. Or maybe that was just her.
Indira gave him a nod, without so much as a greeting right away. That was just her. Instead, she gestured to him to join her. Only when he nestled in on the violet cushions near her did she actually speak.
"It is good to see you, Irving. I hope you do not mind being a test subject, of sorts. I could think of no one better for such a thing."
That was enough to make the dog chuckle briefly.
"Well, I've always considered myself great for experimenting on, so to speak."
That got a brief smile from her, through her usual sternness. Good enough. With that, she reached over to grasp and swirl an opened bottle of wine. There was a moon on the label.
"I won't keep you in suspense. What I have here is a bottle of Gibbous, a rather famous blend of mysterious origins. I tried it myself, but it was just wine to me. I believe you have to be canine to truly enjoy it."
"Enjoy it hmm? Are we talking about getting drunk, or something ... more?" He tipped his head at her in that doggish way.
"Much more. Something truly wonderful, if marketing is to be believed. But -" She held the bottle up to the light and inspected it from all sides. "... perhaps it is simply a myth, a fable to sell a few costly bottles. What do you think?"
"I think there's only one way to find out." He sniffed the air a few times then rubbed at the back of his head when he felt a curious tingle there. "The smell of it ... it does something to me."
That made her perk up some, and she straightened her back to regard him closely.
"Tell me what you feel."
He straightened up and half-closed his eyes. "It's like ... there's something inside me, long forgotten. Something inherent to who I am. I keep seeing a forest in my mind's eye ..."
"Good. Very good." Indira rumbled those words deeply. "Then let us pour, and see if we cannot unleash that inner wolf."
Irving nodded. He could already feel his heart beating a little faster, but that might have just been the result of sitting in the presence of a wise, mature tigress like her. Two tall glasses of wine were in order, and she offered him one and clinked the second against it when he took it. The drink itself was strong, rich, full-bodied - and other such terms connoisseurs used to describe wine. Good, at least, with a complexity he felt his tongue wasn't fully equipped to appreciate. He didn't feel anything after the first few sips. Indira sat quietly drinking with them, her eyes alternating between the glass and him, closely watching for any effects. Nothing much came of it, even as he drained the rest of the dark red liquid, but for a bit of warmth in his belly. Satisfying, if not exactly transformative. Sighed and licked his lips a few times, considering the aftertaste as the tigress silently observed him like a specimen.
"Hmm. Nothing yet," he said, only to perk his ears up. "Except, maybe ..."
He wasn't sure how to describe it exactly. There was that initial feeling of warmth creeping over his skin. It was a strangely crawling sensation, but not an unpleasant one. A few of his muscles gave some strange flexes, even convulsions. He felt his face twitching a little. Something was going on inside him that caused him to react, but he wasn't sure how to put it into words. Or words that might be appropriate to speak in front of her, at least. Every moment that wine worked into his system was one he found himself increasingly flustered just looking at her. The robe wasn't quite form-fitting, but it still outlined her womanly silhouette nicely. There was such softness to the tigress, even on that well-toned, athletic frame. His sheath stirred in his pants, leaving him squirming on the couch, trying not to make it too obvious. Though if her nose was even half as keen as his own she would have already picked up on the scent of his lust. It seemed more potent than usual, even to him.
It didn't help that she returned his gaze with a desirous one of her own. While subtle, he could see the flash in her eyes, the slight twitch of her whiskers, the curling of a corner of her mouth as if to hold back the urge to snarl. She slipped ever so slightly closer to him, leaving him with the sensation of his fur standing up on end in anticipation of a touch. Instead, she lingered there, breathing slowly, deeply, taking in the musk he gave off. He wasn't sure why his scent was so prominent all of a sudden. He was clean, showered, fresh, but those canine pheromones wafted from him nonetheless as he breathed in a dose of her own warmth. As much as he didn't want to make any assumptions, he was starting to feel like that well-aged tigress wanted him in the same way he wanted her. Though he still wasn't sure how to approach such a topic.
"I think there might be ... something. I'm feeling a, well ... I kind of want ..." He stopped and bit his lip when he realized he was getting nowhere. "That is, I'm not sure if someone as experienced as you would be interested in someone like me, but ..."
"Hush." She reached out a finger and placed it on his lips. Then she gave him a shimmer of her eyes that went well with her subtle smile. "I am not that old."
"That's not what I -"
"I know what you meant. And I shall say - if you feel desires, do indeed act upon them. I certainly will too."
He waited to learn what that might mean right upon until the moment she kissed him. It was no gentle thing. She leaned her body right into his and overtook him in a blanket of warmth and rumbles. He could feel the vibrations in her chest spreading throughout her entire body, radiating heat and desire alike. So she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. He couldn't hide how he felt about that. His body reacted strongly, automatically, instinctually to her intimate touches, and her taste. Which was to say his cock was filling out and there simply was no keeping it subtle when he was that hard, that fast. All from simply being touched by the tigress.
More than just a kiss, she stroked him all over, squeezed inwards on the places where he had a little muscle. Only, it felt different than before. He didn't mean to flex, but everything was so tight, pulled taut with tension and strength alike. His clothes were less comfortable than they used to be, too. He swore he heard the rip of a seam in one sleeve, then the other while she pushed her bust against his chest and completely covered him in her confined, concealed curves and stripes. It still seemed like it all happened so fast, even when she took every motion slowly, deliberately, completely wrapping him up in her quiet intimacy and lust.
When her tongue danced through his mouth, he felt it playing against the curves of four canine teeth that seemed longer and sharper than before. His scent grew to something more enticingly fragrant while his cock fully unsheathed and his knot swelled to full. That was unusually early for that mating bulb to get solid like that. He didn't question it. Not such potent, snarl-worthy urges ran through his veins. He gasped into her warm mouth, then grunted. The sudden rush of sensations had him briefly writhe beneath her, but she quickly seized control. A firm touch was enough to settle him down. He was ready to obey. One hand to take one of his wrists and then the other, and down they went.
He found himself with a gorgeous cat sitting on his still-growing bulge while pinned him down. It felt like she had him firmly helpless, but he didn't bother to test it. The position suited him just fine, especially when he could rub against her robe-clad body and feel her rubbing back over the outlined shape of his cock as they worked each other into sweltering, spicy heat. Pheromones and sex-scents flooded the air before they even removed their clothing, and it was only going to get thicker. Especially when she reached down to free his bulge and lay her talented fingers upon his rigid shaft.
A pull from the kiss left her flavour lingering on his tongue. He licked his chops and looked directly into her eyes while she gleamed down at him with a soft, but clearly aroused smile.
"Subtle, but altogether satisfying. Do you feel the changes coming over you? I certainly do. Perhaps I expected more, but this will do nicely, for now."
"Ohhh, Indira ... I didn't know you ..."
"That I could experience arousal?" By her expression, she was toying with him again.
"No no, that you ... wanted me."
"Of course I did. That was precisely why I invited you here. While I doubted whether the drink would truly work, I could think of no other better suited to the transformation."
She wrapped her fingers firmly around his cock and started stroking up and down in smooth, gradual motions. Never too quickly, but with such purpose to each gliding rub that he couldn't help but gasp out with every single one. He already made a mess of her digits with the sheer amount of pre he was putting out. It wasn't natural anymore. He was absolutely spurting the stuff all over his shirt, and her hand alike. It was thicker, hotter, more fragrant than his usual cum. He fell to doggish panting while she worked him up until he could barely take it. She somehow calmed him at the same time as working him up further with some strategic nibbles along his shoulders, his neck, and his jawline. The slightly painful prick of her teeth kept him solely focused on her, and all the sensations she provided just by being close.
Only when he was utterly pounding with need did she finally loosen the robe that kept her covered and hidden. Taking it one sleeve at a time was like torture for the horny shep, but he was relieved to find her wearing nothing underneath. Clearly she'd anticipated all this. His tongue flopped about with his heavy breathing while she stripped down to her stripes and bared those feline curves for him to ogle. Before he could reach up to run his hands along her shapely hips, or take a big grope of her plump breasts, she took him by the wrists and pinned his arms down again. This time, she got right up close to his face and gave him a short, sharp snarl.
What might have normally been intimidating instead brought something out of him he couldn't fully explain. When he clenched his teeth and snarled back, it was fully out of instinct. His body worked itself entirely on automatic for a few moments. Something was working overtime, fuelling his inner wolf. He wasn't sure how long he could keep holding it back.
"Goood ..." she said, so throatily he thought it was just a growl at first.
With no further comment, she got herself comfortable atop his cock and slowly slipped down until he pushed past the initial resistance of her folds. A deep delve into the hot flesh of her sex was enough to make him close his eyes and briefly whimper as the pleasure washed over him. The throbbing only grew more excessive as he sank deep into her tight heat and felt those inner muscles hug him in welcome. He got about half way inside before she paused. For all her confidence, she still needed time to adjust to that much girth. He was bigger than usual. That much wasn't up for debate. The lust pounded through his body so powerfully that his cock must have been three inches bigger. Thicker too. He could feel himself giving her a good stretch while she sank down to kiss her wet lips against his fat knot.
A thump against that bulb sent a jiggle through her body. She was mostly athletic all over but the places where she was softest made for a pleasant bounce as she started moving atop him. Up, down, thump, thrust, grind - she didn't waste any time riding that thick dog dick with firm, athletic motions. At first it felt more like a cock massage than fucking, the way she squeezed on him while she rubbed up and down his every veiny, solid inch. Eventually she started really driving down to slam against his knot and make the couch groan beneath them, seamlessly transitioning from elegant lovemaking to rough sex without so much as missing a step. He groaned right along with the ravaged furniture while she plunged him into her pussy with repeated, powerful motions of her womanly hips, commandingly pinning him down all the while.
Listening to her rhythmic snarls, he answered them with some of his own. Once she had her momentum going, there was no stopping her. They fucked right there while the open bottle wobbled on the nearby table, her fangs and breasts right near his face. He drooled for her when he opened his mouth to moan. Every driving thrust should have taken him closer to knotting her, but he felt like he wasn't making any progress in that regard. It didn't make any sense. She hammered down on him, stretched herself with the sheer forceful fuck-strokes she made on his dick, but if anything she just seemed to be getting tighter. He could feel her squeezing down, felt those pleasured contractions getting more rapid, but she was slowing. She couldn't maintain the same speed when his cock was so damn big. He only truly realized what was going on when he heard his shirt shredding under the force of his newly expanded chest, biceps, and more. The longer they fucked, the thicker he got, stronger, more muscular, and with a fatter cock to go along with his transforming frame. The only comment he could think to make was an extended snarl, one that made him aware of just how much bigger his fangs had grown. They interlocked and glistened as he flashed them at the tigress. She couldn't keep him down forever.
With his newfound were-dog strength he managed to wrench free of her grip. She was agile, deadly even, but as his thoughts fell to brutishness and his capacity for speaking faded, he could think only of seizing her, claiming her, showing her what he could truly do. And not to mention getting his knot inside her, no matter how huge it got with his fearsome transformation. Seeing him lunge at her, fangs bared, the tigress only spoke a single word, the same as before.
"Good."
He barely even understood it anymore. The feral lust possessed him until their fuck became a struggle. She knew how to manipulate a body, how to grip at joints and muscles to render even a powerful opponent helpless, but Irving had that sheer animal strength to contend with. Eventually, she started losing. As firmly as she fought to stay on top, Irving's brute strength was more than she could handle. She rode him hard until he broke free of her grasp and seized her body in a mighty grip. Those great big were-dog mitts were perfect for clutching her curves. He never took her from his cock, but instead lunged forth with a slobbering snarl and tackled her right off the couch. They thudded to the floor together, big dog on top, smothering that soft cat in canine muscle and richly musked perspiration. The heat in the room just seemed to grow more intense the more he transformed. He panted and steamed, with saliva and sweat pouring down upon his partner, his prey. What started as a subtle transformation had swiftly gone all the way into full, primal were-dog territory. And Irving kept on growing even with his dick wedged deep inside the flattened cat.
"Want .... your ... fucking ... pussy ..." came his throaty declaration. It sprang from him without a second thought, the mantra of a near-feral creature instead of a thinking person.
The urge to pound, to take, to breed that sultry tigress took him over and set him to swift, doggish thrusts that plapped his nuts against her body with those wild swings of his hips. He didn't stop for anything. There was no restraint left in that drooling beast, just the endless ferocity that fuelled his desire into something truly brutal. Indi could take it. She snarled at first, then fell to yowling, sometimes even whimpering when the pleasure was just a little too much for even her to handle. That just compelled Irving to fuck her harder. The whole room shook while he thumped her into the floor while she squirmed and seemingly tried to crawl away. Not because she actually wanted to escape, but rather because the feeling of being overpowered even while she sincerely tried to take control back was one that drove her to her first of surely many clenching, writhing, shaking orgasms.
The big beast of a dog gave a thunderous, satisfied snarl when he saw that pretty face get all scrunched up into a submissive snarl. It didn't make him stop pounding her. His fattened cock slipped in and out of her while she squeezed down on him and gushed rich juices over his knot. Just to make absolutely certain he wasn't done with the cumming tigress, he wrapped his beefy arms around her whole torso and squeezed her into his chest while he rutted her into sloppy oblivion with a repeated squelch on every thump.
"Good!" came the muffled scream from the big cat. The power of the sound was significantly diminished with her muzzle immersed there in some sweaty shepherd pecs.
"Nnnnngh," came his grunt as his pace turned manic, brutal, almost desperate with the urge to force his knot inside her, no matter how much she yowled.
His snarls took command of the room while her cries of shaky, breaking bliss remained half-silenced by the muscles that smothered her. Irving was still getting bigger, his knot fatter, his dick harder. His balls swelled up until they were bigger than the tigress' breasts, and then her head. They sloshed with every swing, every harsh smack to her ass as he bent her into a vicious mating press. Breed breed breed went his feral mind while their bodies answered the call with a wet and sloppy schlick schlick schlick. That of course went right along with the hearty plap of big fat dog nuts to soft tigress body. The sweat went flinging off them with every spank to Indi's rump. He was sleeved deep inside her to the point the outline of his dick showed so clearly in her creamy white belly that he could have made out the veins if he was looking. Neither of them saw much as he brutally rutted her into a soaking mess. The juices of their matting soaked her from thighs to tits, puddled out on the floor around them, and he still wasn't done. His knot thumped along with his high-speed heart while he ground it against the entrance of her soaking tunnel. He kissed it against those wet lips again and again until they finally flexed and stretched and accepted him in one long, violent lunge that had him turn her into something more like a living condom for his impossibly thick, relentlessly rigid, aching, veiny, twitching dog dick.
With that mating tie firmly locked in place, she was finally his. But of course there was still plenty of her to claim, starting with her womb. He buried himself fully inside her and let her scream and cum herself stupid while she clamped down on his ruinous knot. If she was a less durable woman he would have destroyed her in the process of breeding her. His instincts couldn't be restrained. He wouldn't be satisfied until he'd impregnated that tigress like his own bitch. Gone was the hesitance, the consideration. She was his toy, to fill and breed as hard as he wished. A train-like snort of steam escaped him while he held himself inside her twitching depths. His cock flexed and expanded with the convulsions of climax that passed through him. Every muscle of his hulking, beastlike body flexed up taut to keep her pinned and smothered in his werewolf raunch while his balls pulled up and bounced with their orgasmic throes.
The seed he poured inside her was enough to swell her in an instant, and it all stayed locked within the writhing cat thanks to that deeply-lodged knot. He filled her with spunk until she sloshed with it, until she bloated and expanded and rounded out like a good little knocked up kitten. He fucked his spunk inside her with a few more gushing thrusts, finally breaking the seal of his knot to send torrents of cream spurting off around them while he got that lovely tigress deeply drenched in his scent and unquestionably pregnant with a whole litter or more. Only then did he stop to catch his breath.
Such a rest didn't last long. He wasn't about to let her recover. There were still so many needs of his he was going to make her fulfill. As much as he might have seemed a mindless brute, he could think enough to know he wasn't getting out of her anytime soon. Instead, he took that extended knotting session as the opportunity to make her truly appreciate the musk-coated beast he had become. He was still getting bigger, still filling out into the shape of a titan of untamed, masculine canine, and in the process he generated enough sweat and musk alike to positively glisten with the layer of perspiration clinging to his fur. That slavering, hulking monster that used to be a handsome, slightly timid dog all but drowned the tigress in his essence while he kept his knot firmly locked inside of her.
Now and then he gave her swollen womb another spurt of cum. His cock wasn't getting any softer, but he took his focus from fucking her to simply making her worship his monstrous body. There was no modesty in the way he snatched her by the head and hair with one huge, meaty paw and stuffed her face beneath his arm, to swelter and swim in his concentrated essence. For all her wisdom and elegance, she still made for a fine sweat rag the weredog. Irving mopped up the excess in that humid put with her pretty face and hair alike, soaking her right down to the skin in his potent canine musk. Then he brought her to the other.
Indi could do little more than sputter and close her eyes as she got thoroughly drenched and marked in that beast's scent. Her own natural perfume was very much overwritten by the smell of canine sweat and spunk alike. And that was before he even pulled out of her. After he'd rubbed her nose deep into the other of his underarms, he instead planted her muzzle into the crevice of his burly pecs and kept her there as he started to yank back. If his knot was the unmovable object, then he was the unstoppable force, tugging, wrenching, shoving on the cat's shoulders while he harshly tried to dislodge himself from her cunt. The process was enough to get the tigress lightly mewling now and then. She could handle a lot, but that amount of pressure and force was enough to make her squirm. Then there came that shocking POP of his fat knot finally coming free of her tight depths, and the rest was a mess.
The excess, overflowing cum splurched from her pussy and splashed over her stripes. From thighs to bloated to belly to breasts, the mere act of pulling was enough to paint her with his jizz thanks to the geyser of pressure that came with it. She didn't rise even once he clambered over her, instead left sprawled and splayed out with her arms stretched off to the sides. It was such a rare thing that she looked so defeated, or felt that way for that matter. Her chest rose and fell swiftly, she gasped for air that wasn't completely tainted by his mind-consuming musk. He hardly even gave her a chance to breathe before he shoved her beneath the surface of his intoxicating essence once more.
His language skills came back in a vague way as he dominated her with his scent. It was enough to make his thoughts spill out from between clenched fangs.
"I ... want you ... to smell ... like me ..." came his shuddering snarl, hard to even understand to a discerning ear. And she was far from perceptive in those moments.
She didn't even have any feistiness left to show when he grabbed her by the face and rose to his feet. With his hunched, werewolf-like posture, it was hard to tell just how tall he'd grown but he probably could have bumped his head on the ceiling if he stood up straight. Soon he had her dangling there in both his hands, and he didn't waste time making use of her. A shift of his grip and he freed her face just in time for her to get her muzzle buried in his balls. That was where he kept her for a while, grinding her features firmly into that weighty sack while her fur swiped up his pure, concentrated pheromones.
He soaked her until her fur and whiskers were all askew, her hair was matted and clinging to her head and shoulders. Back and forth, up and down, he towelled off his nuts with the beautiful tigress until she was utterly drunk on him. If he had any coherent thoughts left he might have remarked on how unusual it was to see her so inelegantly flustered and degraded. She licked and sniffed his balls before he was done with her. He didn't even have to ask her. The richly masculine flavour was so addictive that even the tigress huffed him, slathered him, worshipped him for as long as his excess sweat kept flowing.
From the crevice of his nuts to the underside of his sex-streaked cock, Indira licked him with quiet desperation, as if she couldn't stand the wait between each slurp. A good rutting rendered her a fiend for that dick. She worked her tingly tongue from his balls and up along the pulsing spire of his shaft. He hadn't grown any softer since cumming inside her. A steamy snort blew from his nostrils as he gave an extended rumble-snarl that must have been approval. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so patient. The tigress had her eager servicing interrupted when he just snapped his jaws in the air and thrust down, humping her face a few times. He was so primal by that point he could hardly think to do more than to bluntly shove his dick against her face. Her features pressed into the veiny spot just above his swollen knot. She tried to smooch but he was too rough with her to facilitate that. Instead she just had to dangle helplessly in his two-handed grasp while he rammed her pretty features into his dick and rubbed it all over her face with lusty, greedy motions of his hips. Only after he'd applied enough brute force to briefly disorient her did he relent and position her better for another fuck. This time he wanted her tits.
It took a truly impressive member to make that feline bust look modest. Down to the floor she went again, pinned beneath him as he knelt down and sat his haunches on her middle while he plapped his cock right atop her breasts. A slow grind quickly turned into a manic, savage hump until he figured out what he wanted to do with her. Each stroke of his cock smeared a mix of clinging cum and spurting pre all over the jizzrag of a tigress. She just barely managed to get her hands up, at first to push at his solid, unyielding thighs as if to struggle for just a little more space to breathe. When that proved ineffective she just made the most of what she had, cupping her hands around the shape of her breasts so they could comfortably hug around the shape of his twitching, flexing, spitting dick.
He made a mess of her face with every gush of juices from that pointed, bulging tip. She wore them without complaint, occasionally licking across her chops to mop the excess flavour that stuck to her fur and made her smell like horny dog. Once he was content and snug, he fucked her bosom in slick, sloppy strokes that left his cock smearing across her lips and nose, as if to ensure she was absolutely saturated in his scent and taste alike by the time he was done. She sweltered in his masculine aroma and occasionally licked that blunt breeding tool while he made selfish, greedy use of her feminine body. In a feral state, all he cared about was his own pleasure, even if it meant ravaging and bruising the tender body of the sultry tigress beneath him. She didn't fuss.
She laid out like a carpet while a snorting, drooling monster-dog splattered her face and bust with every spurting backstroke. Those fine breasts jiggled every time he rammed his knot against the base of them. She arched her back to give him a better angle, but there wasn't much she could do beneath all that weight and muscle. A raunchy drenching in thick, searing canine musk was enough to leave her blankly moaning once he titfucked her long enough. She was marinated and dominated, swimming in the wafting masculinity, wearing it like a second skin. Just breathing him in made her body react, made her sensitive to every touch, made her ache with the urge for more. A cock sliding along through its own soaking mess was pleasure enough to make her squirm, to make her pussy clench while she rubbed her thighs together, squelching cum between them.
He muffled her moaning with his cock streaking across her face again and again, but he certainly felt the vibrations in her chest as she rumbled her way to a peak right along with him. Maybe it was the scent, the taste, or the harsh sensation of his rigid, bulging dick grinding through her cleavage again and again. She did her best to hug her breasts close to his shaft while he humped and rubbed. Every raised vein stimulated her soft bosom as he slid his knot and nuts alike along her seed-swollen, thoroughly bred belly. The slobbery snarls that escaped him went along with a sudden twitch of his cock, a pump of his sack, and a raise of his tail. Through wavering vision she could vaguely see him snarling and spitting while he went off again.
She was right there with him. It wasn't something she could explain exactly. The constant pounding of her senses and body alike was enough to simply tip her over the edge into a mewling squirt beneath him, without so much as a touch to her pussy. She writhed for him while he stuck his dick in her face and let it flex there for a few lewd seconds as his next fat cumshot worked its way up that monstrous shaft. Then there came the eruption that left her completely plastered, painted, sprayed down in the short-range, high-pressure blast of spunk. He hosed it all over her pretty face until her hair was utterly immersed in the puddle that formed, then stroked his hips a few times to continue milking it all out with the help of her tits.
Some of it shot straight up in the air, then arced back down to rain upon her submerged face. He left plenty more streaked across her well-fucked bust, and plenty more simply splattered onto her floor, her couch, her entire living room. By the time he was done cumming all over her, the windows had fogged over throughout the house from the sheer heat he was putting off. He sat on her a little longer, wiggling back and forth, grinding here and there to get those last spurts from his dick while his hot, drooly panting remained the only sound in the room. Maybe some part of him was still lucid enough to know she needed a moment to recover. His patience didn't last long.
Snatching her by the shoulders, he rose up and dragged her with him so he could play with her some more. She flopped along with his overpowering grip, dripping with spunk, steaming and smelling richly of masculine dog. It was like she was weightless in his hands. The very tip of her tail almost touched the floor, but the rest of her remained suspended in his grasp, easily manipulated into a more fuckable position. She was little more than a toy, a sleeve for him to stuff. Her cunt was stretched and slightly numb after that bestial rut session, her breasts were a little sore, and she couldn't possibly have had more cum on her face, but there was still more she could give him. He didn't hesitate to take what he wanted, even when it meant shoving an oversized dog cock under her tail and between her striped cheeks to press against a tighter hole than ever. Those urges came with another guttural bellow of feral intent.
"Gonna fuck your ass ... mewling dog-slut ... "
The words came out with a lunging snap of his jaws, like an attack. Similar was the intensity of his taking her. At least his cock was a mess, soaked with the juices of their mating, but he was still asking a lot. Somehow, he hadn't managed to break her yet. Perhaps that was the secret. The wine did have an effect on her after all. It simply worked more subtly in non-canines, preparing their bodies for the snarly battering that came when they served the stuff to their dog friends. She felt invincible, but that might have been the intoxicating aroma jammed into her senses talking, not to mention the persistent glow of orgasm that came with getting plow stupid by a monster of a drooling, snapping dog right on her own living room floor. If he wanted to fuck her ass with that battering ram then she was just going to have to mewl and drool and be a good little stripey cocksleeve.
The fingers of a single hand wrapped fully around her waist while another clutched her by the hair. That hurt a little. In the food way. She fell to heated yowls that quavered and broke with her own shaking. A drivng, pumping hump-fuck was the best he could do for accurate. He glazed along her rim a few times before he actually managed to put any pressure on it. From there, it was a slow, harsh process of thrusting, stretching, working inside of her inch by inch only to pull back and try again. She relaxed for him as best she could and fell into a dazed, stupid expression with her eyes all rolled back when he slipped his cock past the initial resistance and fully entered her. Then more, more, with the outline in her belly visible even with all the cum-bloat.
It reached all the way up to her breasts. The older cat had always had a thing for taking it beneath the tail, and she flexed and kneaded around his cock as the mere presence of that much meaty girth drove her closer and closer to a quivering orgasm of her own. And that was all before he actually started fucking her striped butt. The first few plaps of knot and nuts against her backside were seemingly enough to fully break her at last. Her arms fell down mostly limp to be flailed about by his brutal pounding, and her legs soon followed suit. She was inches away from simply passing out, but she kept herself conscious with those weakened, beaten mraaaaawls of pleasure.
Those went along with the squelch of his wet dick pumping deep into her rump as he spanked against her ass and worked himself to the same rutting pace as before. This time he was even bigger, even stronger. He drooled on her spine as his tongue flopped freely from his jaws, waving back and forth with the momentum of his thrusts. Indira, the motherly, athletic, secretly deadly tigress was reduced to a helpless, flailing plaything, limbs swinging back and forth while she got herself werewolfed mindless, thoughtless, blanked out by the brutal pleasure of getting taken by the feral, merciless beast. Irving pulled her up and down on his dick to ensure his deep thumping strokes sent a shockwave through her whole body. With his palms pressed to the outline of his cock inside her, it was more like he was jerking off with her body.
He wobbled that fine booty with the hammer blows of his knot until she couldn't even mewl anymore. Nothing escaped her throat but for a faint rasp as her expression went from snarly to stunned to simply smiling in the stupefying haze of sense-dulling pleasure. Some of her was numb by then but she still felt every single driving pound between her cheeks, every rump-stretching hump while the weredog plowed her with all the strength in his glistening, muscleclad body. Few else could have stayed conscious all throughout the wickedly primal assault of pleasure - or survived, for that matter. In her fuck-dulled mind, she managed to cling onto one faint thought as he pounded her raw. She'd had worse.
Her eyes flickered open and shut by the time his knot swelled up fatter, right along with his bloated balls. Those nuts gave the same jumping, pumping, milking clenches as before while Irving broke from wet snarls into a wail of a howl. It was loud enough that Indi didn't even hear all of it. Instead there came the shrill ring of her ears as temporary deafness fell over her in the face of such a powerful sound. He filled the room with it while he filled the tigress with his seed once more. Indira could barely move her arms by then for the numbness that had spread all throughout her body, but she managed to get her hands up on her belly while it bloated out even bigger than it had begun. A bulge of his cock came with the engorging load that shot up through its twitching length.
Once that hot dog cum erupted inside her she was a balloon, a condom ready to swell up near to bursting with his cum. That was well beyond a pregnant size. Instead, she rounded and blimped out until she finally couldn't hold a single drop more. Jets erupted around the surface of Irving's knot where he had it rammed up against her stretched rim, while more still flowed right through her body to dribble from her mouth, even her nose. Her tits sprung a leak too, and not of milk, but fresh weredog jizz. It leaked down to the floor along with the cream she drooled out from her open jaws. She hardly even looked like herself anymore.
Her eyes were slightly open but she didn't see much. She was broken down into something like a trance by the time Irving finished filling her. Her body quivered its way through an orgasm of its own in the process, but that was just another sensation in the midst of the ocean of overstimulation. He gripped her tight while they panted together. Puffing like a dog was most unbecoming of a tigress, but she didn't care. She didn't have the capacity anymore. Eventually Irving slumped his shoulders and grunted out something of a sigh. He pulled on the big cat's swollen body until she popped off his knotted dick with another sizable squelch of excess cream pouring from her stretched hole.
Plenty more remained inside her, sloshing, wobbling, faintly gurgling as she struggled to even process what had happened to her. When he set her down it was with surprising care. A big spoon of his muscled body behind her let him wrap his arms around his prize and stroke her bloated middle and breasts alike. She couldn't even purr. Not that tigers did, but she usually managed to give a satisfied rumble after a good fuck. That was something else, something far more feral than simple lovemaking. For all her dominance and experience, that horny young dog had managed to break her in with an exceptional application of canine brutishness. He licked the back of her head and found language returning to him with a low, growled utterance.
"Miiiiine."
He reinforced that by rubbing his cock on her back, as if just to make absolutely certain she carried his scent for a good, long while to come. He'd already knocked her up more than once and soaked her in his sweat, but he had to make sure. Something just drove him to. When he leaned in to bite her by the scruff of her neck, he gripped her just a little harder, squeezing more cum out of her ass and pussy alike with the extra pressure. He humped her, gripped her, humped her, all while snarling in her ear and she could only faintly groan once she remembered how to make any sound at all. That went on until something struck him. Buried in the abyss of feral doghood, of wild, vicious instinct, there rose a little glimpse of something like a thought. It finally came ushered forth on the guttural, if more sentient wave of his rumbled voice.
"Ah - are you okay, Miss Indira? You're not hurt are you?"
There was Irving again, rather than the monster that had taken control for a while. Though it was hardly his voice. The bulky, ridiculously strong form the wine had given him remained persistent even while his mind started to return to its former state, no longer flooded with the urge to violently breed above all else. He was starting to realize what he'd done.
"Hmmmmf," she said.
"I hope I wasn't too rough with you. That felt ... I really really needed that."
"You -" she began, and found herself pausing for breath after a single word. A few gasps and she steadied herself well enough to answer. "You did very well."
A little blush came over him. If she could have seen him then, the sight of a great big wereshep looking all flustered might have made her smile. Instead, he gave an affectionate lick on the back of her neck where previously he'd been gnawing.
"I did? I just let the urges carry me. That stuff really does work after all." He reached up to scratch the back of his head with an oversized claw. "It seems a little ... dangerous, maybe."
She cleared her throat and gave her head a shake, though she still didn't move much. At least she remembered how to speak.
"Perhaps. But that was precisely why I wanted you to try it. Sometimes I crave these things."
"These things ... as in, vicious, violent sex with someone stronger than you?"
She nodded nonchalantly. "Yes, that is about the extent of it. All according to plan."
He chuckled, and chanced a little smooch on her cheek. A little affection with someone he'd just roughly impregnated was probably welcome.
"I'll have to keep that in mind. You are a fascinating tigress, Indira. Though I have to wonder ..." He glanced down at himself, and held a huge hand in front of his fangy face. "When does this stuff wear off?"
"In time." She gave a sigh and put on a devious little smile, her eyes closed. "In time. And of course, when you are ready for another round, there is always more in the bottle ..."
She spoke as if he was the one who needed to recover after a primal breeding session like that. All he could really think to do was squeeze her. A chance encounter, a fond gaze across the room, and there he was, snuggled close to the well-plowed tigress he'd managed to break with his hidden thirsts. Well, if they were going to be a breeding pair, then he was just going to have to look forward to plowing her, pleasuring her, swelling her, and impregnating her again and again, for as long as she would have him. Letting such a beautiful, thirsty woman like her down when she wanted him was simply unfathomable to a horny young dog like Irving.