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Trial Run

Written by Amethyst Mare (Arian Mabe)

Commissioned by D.C. Yote

"Just date him already."

In one of the Shepsisters many, sumptuous, living rooms, Danica sprawled on a crimson armchair, legs hooked over the opposite arm. The room was on the large side for two furs, walls lined with bookcases and a framed fireplace in prime position - unexpected of the Shepsisters, despite the lavish countryside mansion. Concerning the bookshelves, one would never be able to tell whether or not these books were read as they and the shelves were kept impeccably clean with not a page or speck of dust out of place. It was the kind of room that held secrets. That was why it was Dora's favourite.

The German Shepherd tapped a hind paw against the plush upholstery, feigning innocence as her blonde-haired sister digested her words. Sometimes it was fun to play with the canine's inclinations. Dora turned her head slowly, dangerously so, to face Danica, blue eyes narrowing into slits. The blonde toyed with a throwing knife, lying sprawled out on the sofa; a circular target on the opposite wall bore marks of many a successful flick of the wrist.

"That would be insane," Dora replied flatly after adequate pause to convey the extent of her derision. "I have no desire to do anything of the sort with that scrawny little coyote. Why..." A smile caught her lips. "Are you finding yourself sentimental, Danica?"

The brunette sighed heavily as if praying to any listening deity to give her strength - necessary to deal with Dora. Her lips twisted and she smoothed down her loose house clothes, which were comfortable to lounge in yet fitted carefully enough that she would indefinitely be prepared for anything.

"Excellent," Danica said, expression selectively neutral. "I am pleased to hear this. So you will personally eliminate him next time he interferes with our plans."

"What?" Dora yelped as if she had been stung, eyes wide. "Why would we need to do that?" She snorted and regained some of her composure. "He is nothing of a threat to us."

"You are sweet on him, Dora."

The fire crackled, a log falling into the flames. Dora's paws stilled on the throwing knife and her fingers tightened around the handle.

"I suggest you do not repeat that."

Dora's tone was low and deadly, like the blade she abused. The German Shepherd's muscles tensed, ready for action. It was at this point that Danica would have usually left her sister to whatever folly she had in her head, no matter how ridiculous it was, but something was different that night. If the canine truly liked that pup, Daniel Yote, the action to follow the notion seemed crystal clear to Danica. She enjoyed the process of cause and effect. It was obscene to disrupt procedure without due reason and Dora was not adhering to the format in her head. Danica just had to give her sister a push; she had to do right by her. Dora was her blood.

Swinging her legs to the plush carpet, Danica straightened, taking a moment to adjust her attire. It was unnecessary, but the delay raised Dora's curiosity enough for the canine to take note, pausing with her paw cocked at an angle as if to flick the knife away. Danica stalked to Dora's perch, standing with her arms crossed over her chest. The blonde's ears slanted back, teeth clenching, and she locked her gaze with Danica's, refusing to look away as her sister drew closer, and closer, and closer.

"Let me put this in a way that you will understand, sister." Danica leaned over the chair, coming almost nose to nose with Dora: it really was quite clear. "Either you date him, or I will."

Dora's paw twitched.

"Fuck you."

*

There was a spring in Yote's step as he walked to the restaurant, an extravagant location that would have usually been beyond reasonable budget. Money was not often on his mind as he was frequently away from home on work 'assignments', yet he was acutely conscious of his place in the world. He could not match the wealth of those whose company he so frequently intervened upon during the course of missions. However, as he was meeting two delectable Shepsisters on business regarding working with his agency, location and displays of luxury alongside generosity were explicitly called for. And thus, dinner and drinks were well and truly on his agency, company card and all. How sweet a deal was that?

Smartly dressed in a three piece suit, Daniel took only his wallet with him to Gianbiaz, the premier hotel-restaurant in the centre of town. It was strange to find an Italian restaurant outside a hotel chain, but that had never depleted from the grandeur of it. Yote hesitated to step on the scarlet carpet that swept up to the glass double doors, the walkway lined with lights and four, tiered fountains, water drip-dropping musically into pools at each one's base. Every other fur around was perfectly groomed, wore perfectly applied make-up and demonstrated perfectly fitting outfits, whether male or female. A long-legged gemsbok clipped daintily past, chuckling politely at something her date said as she hung upon his arm, gold chain and rubies draped over her horns. Yote gulped. He was out of his depth.

Taking a deep breath, he took the plunge and walked into the restaurant, pausing to discover where his dinner partners were from the host. The reservation was under his name and the black-furred feline in a waistcoat and white shirt bobbed his muzzle just once before leading him through the restaurant at a brisk pace. While busy, the restaurant was uncrowded and Yote selected a booth earlier that offered seclusion for private discussions, if so required.

Dora sat in a private booth at the rear of the restaurant, seated comfortably with an untouched glass of water beside her right paw. Dan's eyes went wide. Though he had seen the Shepsisters in plenty of sexual attire, he had never had the opportunity to see Dora looking so simply sensual. The black dress adorning her figure accentuated every curve and, while suitable for public, cut low and daringly in a sweetheart curve over her chest, a sly slit up one leg almost to her hip. Black heels with a cut out for the toes completed her ensemble, fine leather sparkling with diamonds. Yet he could not take his eyes away from the dress for more than a moment and the canine clad within. He was confident it looked even better on the shapely Shepherd when she was standing.

Smiling, Yote greeted Dora with a 'hello' that was quieter than he would have liked, stepping into her line of vision as her blue eyes met his.

"Good evening, Dora." Yote gave a great, sweeping bow. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Oh, Yote," Dora smiled, rose from her seat and allowed him to bring her paw to his lips in a kiss. "Always so formal."

He cocked his head, lips parted. Diamonds encircled her neck in a choker, a fiery sparkle.

"Am I so?"

"Indeed." Her eyes glittered. "You are a crude one in private and ever the gentleman when we have company."

He took a seat opposite the canine, suddenly noticing that they were alone: there was no second glass of water or any other drink on the table. Dora sipped from her glass, eyes lowered as if to concentrate on the very act of drinking.

"The restaurant is lovely," she said once her mouth was moistened, a faint pink edge of lipstick on the glass.

"It is indeed," Yote agreed, looking around at the softly lit room they were hidden within, cream walls illuminated with accents of orange and red, tastefully so, between antique-style beams. "But where is our dear Danica this evening?"

Dora coughed into her paw, a tiny clearing of her throat.

"Oh, it's just us tonight."

Yote tilted his head, curious.

"Is Danica unwell?"

"No," Dora tapped her glass with a nail. "And we shall not be discussing business tonight."

Yote's face fell. What was going on? What would the agency say? Inwardly, he groaned: he was in deep shit.

"What did you bring me here to talk about then?" Yote's ears drooped, tail curling down uncomfortably. "Did you two change your mind?"

"Danica was never coming." Dora glanced up at the waiter approaching with two leather bound menus. "I am taking the opportunity to...take you out. On a date."

Yote choked on air, covering his muzzle and coughing as politely as he was able

"Good evening, Mr Yote, Ms Lannister. What will you have to drink this evening?"

The avian waiter, an eagle owl with piercing, mournful orange eyes and peaked 'ear tufts' clicked his beak expectantly. Leaving the stunned coyote to his subdued coughing fit, Dora turned her attention to the owl.

"We shall have champagne to begin," Dora smiled dazzlingly up at the waiter, twisting in her seat, "to take the edge off. And something a little stronger later."

Murmuring his acknowledgement, the owl flitted off - actually lifting himself from the ground with arms wings doubling as wings in a feat of anthro evolution - for the champagne. Yote sat back, struggling to compose himself. What on earth was going on? In his shock, the coyote's mind latched on to one utterance passed over during Dora's exchange with the waiter. His lips twisted, suppressing a smile. It would not be appropriate to burst out giggling at the name itself.

"Ms Lannister?" Yote raised an eyebrow. "Now that cannot be correct."

"False name," Dora winked, her grin turning cocky. "I would not leak intelligence without any benefit to me. It is not half bad either."

They fell into silence, Dora relaxing with her forearms on the table. She adjusted her necklace, fingering the diamonds with a murmur of pleasure, and Yote's eyes followed the path of her paw, pausing at the hollow in the base of her neck.

"So what you said about this being a date..." Dan broached the topic as if walking on eggshells, paw shaking beneath the table: he could not let Dora see.

"Yes?" Dora frowned, lips turning down. "Are you not interested in me?"

"What? No!" Yote yelped, backtracking hastily. "It's just a surprise." He ducked his head, a blush colouring his muzzle. "I never thought you would be interested in...me...in that way. I thought I was only a plaything to you and Danica when...you know..."

He trailed off, heat radiating from his cheeks. It was the wrong environment to be embarrassed. The coyote could not meet his date's eyes and, to delay conversation, took a sip from the brimming champagne flute the waiter brought to the table, the remains of the bottle taking up position in the centre of the table. Dora held up a paw to stall him from taking further sips and held up her own glass in reply. She had to smile; the mere act of a gesture had him sitting to attention like the obedient puppy that he was for her.

It was cute.

"Change is afoot but - you know what? - I kind of like change," the German Shepherd said. "It keeps life interesting, keeps me thinking and keeps me on my toes. I'd never be on my back foot about anything, of course, but I cannot stand to be bored either. You have never bored me."

She convulsed in a full body shudder at the thought of boredom, inactivity, and caught Yote's gaze, the coyote's jaw ever so slightly slack. Something inside her warmed at the tiny notion, the small nudge of being that was simply D.C. Yote. Directing her gaze once to the champagne glasses and back to him, she told him without words what she wanted. True to his experience with both Shepsisters, the coyote picked up on the command and hovered his glass over the centre of the table, waiting on Dora's convenience. Her frozen eyes warmed, the thrill from being obeyed pumping through her veins like a first dose of heroin, sharpening every sensation tenfold, from the rapid beating of her heart to the murmur of conversation in the backward. Yote had been around both so much that he now responded to simple cues without thinking, even in public. She would never admit aloud that she adored that.

"We are far from average, but normal is boring. Who would not desire a slice of insanity?" Dora smirked, raising her glass to Yote's so that they clinked gently together. "This endeavour is crazy. It is right."

She paused.

"I already know that we are compatible sexually."

The coyote's ears flattened in embarrassment and he slid his gaze away, sipping of the champagne. The bubbles fizzing on his tongue gave him a physical sensation to focus upon and he grounded himself, willing every fibre of his being to meet Dora's eyes as an equal. To his surprise, when he looked up she was already leaning in, her nose and bright, bright eyes mere inches from his. He froze as she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, nothing that another fur could frown upon. Dan blushed: had she ever kissed him before?

Dora curled her fingers around the back of his neck, drawing his muzzle in closer and lower, below hers.­ Shivering at the subtle display of dominance, Yote looked up as she slowly nuzzled along his cheek and up to his year, chancing a quick, affectionate lick to the underside of her jaw before his nerve failed. The German Shepherd's breath brushed his ear and he resisted the urge to twitch it, caught by how her fingers dug lightly into the scruff of his neck.

"Do not bore me, little coyote," she whispered. "Keep me interested and we shall get along better than fine."

*

They did not stay at the restaurant for long after their delicious dinner had been consumed, though the drinks had flowed fast and freely. Yote wished that he could afford such liquor in his 'normal' life, though the company was priceless in comparison to anything of monetary value. Besides, he did not have to concern himself with the bill - now that would have set him back. The entire escapade was still on the agency's tab, Dora explained, as the Shepsisters would be conducting work with them in the future. Nothing was to be discussed that particular night, however. Neither said it aloud, but they both knew that that night was for them and them alone.

The tipsy duo stumbled into Dora's hotel room in a fit of giggles, the canine's hair in disarray around her merry muzzle. Yote said he would come in for a glass of water - just one glass - and maybe a quick, strong drink if she was so inclined, but that he could not stay, oh no. It was not possible. Despite past liaisons, Dan insisted that he would not stay with a lady on the first night. After having his glass of water in the luxurious suite - Dora truly knew how to treat herself right when away from home - the coyote hauled himself upright, taking a look out the expansive windows, city lights twinkling.

"I'm sorry, Dora," Yote coughed into his paw, trying to distance himself from some absurd amusement that threatened to have him giggling again. "I'm not prepared to stay over. I must leave now. Right now."

"Besides," he added swiftly with a conspirator's wink. "I shall have to take you, my dear, out to dinner first before even entertaining the thought of staying with you. A coyote will always treat a lady with the very finest he may."

Dora smiled and shook her head just the once, looking over the coyote from head to toe. Loosening his tie, Yote cleared his throat, tiny drops of sweat beading and soaking into his fur where it appeared. He may have been pretending to be gentlemanly in avoiding concluding the night in bed but, in reality, his heart pounded in his chest with too much force to think straight. A night with Dora under non-suspect circumstances? It set his heart racing more than being kidnapped, though no harm had ever come to him from that. Not lasting harm, anyway.

And the very notion terrified him.

Nodding decisively, Yote picked up his suit jacket, ready to shrug it over his shoulders, but hesitated halfway through the motion. Everyone knew the feel of a predator's eyes upon them. He sensed Dora's boring into his skull, picking apart every thought and tracing it through her claws. Swallowing, the coyote met her eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you...ah..." He fumbled for words. "Would you like to meet again, Dora? I know that sounds terribly -"

"Yote." Dora stopped him, the canine perched on the end of the bed, looking up at him from beneath thick, sultry eyelashes. "You are not going anywhere."

"Ah... What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said, or have you forgotten how I play my games?"

Dora found her hind paws, rising sinuously in the style of feminine grace only discovered by those most acquainted with their bodies. The coyote's blood boiled, thinking of the years of fighting and honing of skills that developed that grace, every footfall of Dora's coming with the utmost precision. If he was not better versed in her ways, he would have called her delicate. The truth of the matter, however, was that everything happened exactly as she intended it to.

The German Shepherd cupped a paw under Dan's muzzle, lifting it to expose his neck. With one finger, she loosened his tie. He shuddered, malleable in her paws and trembling faintly as her sharp teeth nipped a path up his neck, the paint jolting. Raising his paws tentatively, he rested them on her waist, not daring to move to more erogenous zones, no matter how fiercely his blood pumped. It was always Dora who made the first move: Yote simply obeyed orders.

"Did you think you were going to get away that easily, little coyote?" She crooned, a seductive tilt to her muzzle.

Get away? Yote stiffened.

"What's going on?" His ears flattened and Yote shifted his gaze from left to right, taking note of all available exits, training kicking in quicker than instinct. "Why would I want to escape from you?" The coyote's eyes hardened. "Unless this is not what you told me it was."

"Oh, Yote." Dora held a paw over her heart, ever the dramatist as she pretended to be mortally wounded. "How you offend me. This is not your standard kidnapping. This is a capture of a different kind."

A wicked giggle escaped her lips and she clapped her paw over her mouth, eyes dancing in the low light.

"This evening is only the beginning."

Dora looked him up and down, taking a step back.

"Strip."

"Dora, please let's not -"

He could not strike the fear from his heart, nerves drumming on his ribcage like a demented tap dancer. Dora paid him no mind except to flick her paw dismissively: she knew him better than he himself.

"I said, strip."

Yote quailed. There was no arguing with that tone. He swiftly undid his tie and dropped it on the floor with his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt with so much haste that he caught and tore a button off, sending it pinging across the room. The ludicrous nature of the mistake threw him and the coyote suppressed a laugh, blinking rapidly to focus on something tangible. Trousers next. The belt was undone with a small 'clink' of metal and the fine fabric tumbled down. His boxer briefs hit the carpet and were kicked well aside. All through the swift strip show, Dora watched, taking in every nuance of the coyote's body.

"Kneel."

Dropping to his knees, the coyote awaited further instruction, the tip of his tail wagging faintly. It felt natural to be on his knees before Dora. The German Shepherd stepped so close that his nose brushed her stomach, pushed his muzzle below her dress with a growl. He shuddered, nuzzling up her thighs as she silently commanded until he found a sodden thong barely covering her soaked sex, flushed with blood. Her aroma flooded his senses and Yote groaned, rubbing his nose against her clit through the thin fabric. How had he not smelled her arousal earlier? Had she been so aroused at dinner? The thought stirred his cock in its sheath, pink tip protruding as he lapped her sweet taste from the tops of her thighs and around her pussy, teasing. There was nothing like that taste.

Pulling her thong aside enough for his tongue, the coyote drove his tongue deep into her pussy, thumb grinding over her clit. The German Shepherd yanked her dress up and grasped the fur on the back of his head, hips bucking urgently into his muzzle. Pushing higher, he grasped her thigh with one paw and thrust two fingers into her tight passage with the other, tongue attacking her clit with the hunger of one sex-starved. But that was not true. He had had sex. He was starved of Dora. The coyote closed his eyes and sucked her clit, drawing it between his lips as he added another finger to her sex, driving the length of the digits into her with each thrust: the canine could take more than that. Having been worked up for so many hours of the evening thinking about what was to come, Dora's first orgasm of the night rose like water behind flood gates.

"Mmmph... That's a good boy," she gasped, tongue lolling from her muzzle. "You were...ah...always good with your tongue...a good use for you. Get me off, little coyote."

Yote needed no encouragement. Stroking from thigh to rump and between her legs, the coyote traced his fingers lightly over her tail hole, curious as to how she would react to teasing there. She gave a throaty moan, clutching him as if her life depending upon it, the coyote lapping quickly over her clit, alternating with sucking so that she gasped and whined, surrendering to the pleasure he delivered. She reached her peak with a low howl, four of Yote's fingers stretching her cunt, tongue flicking rapidly over that bud of flesh. Dora bucked and snarled, howl strengthen as orgasm wracked her body. She did not care who heard. The German Shepherd arched upon his muzzle, holding his muzzle to her so tightly that he struggled for breath but did not even consider pulling away.

Twisting her fingers into his scruff, Dora yanked him from under her dress, teeth showing in a savage snarl.

"Get me out of this dress, coyote," she hissed, snapping her fingers. "Now."

Scrambling to attention, Yote unzipped her dress and gently drew it over her head, paws trembling. Once the fabric was removed, the canine took in his body, eyes immediately dropping to his throbbing hard-on, impossible to miss. Dora grasped his cock, nails pricking sensitive skin, and stroked his length, her eyes wicked. Lust had a cruel edge with her.

"Aw," she smirked. "Are you turned on by the blade, coyote, or having your snout between my thighs?"

Blushing, Yote shook his head, refusing to answer, which only amused the sultry canine. Slapping the coyote's rump, she raked her nails through his fur, murring under her breath.

"On the bed." Dora pointed, as if he did not know where the bed was. "On your back. Make it easy for me to use you."

While he did as he was told, Dora stepped aside to a wooden box, withdrawing two lengths of rope and a strap-on toy of a size that both excited and terrified him - much like Dora herself. Fastening the harness around her waist and legs as if she was well acquainted with the toy, she stroked a squirt of lube along the red, canine-shaped toy, complete with knot. It was all the lubricant she would allow the coyote and even using it at all was unusually kind for the German Shepherd. She pulled the lengths of black rope taut between her paws, legs braced and muscles flexed to savour the moment of her submissive dog waiting for her.

Diving on top of her coyote, Dora attacked his neck in nips and kisses, bites increasing in strength until sweet blood dripped on to her tongue. In a flash, she had his paws tied to the wooden barred headboard - clearly a special request - with knots that his fingers and teeth could not reach, rendering him well and truly helpless. She grabbed his legs, moving more quickly than he expected, bending them back to expose his rump and tight pucker of a tail hole. He whimpered at the strain and ducked his head so that his chin rested on his creamy chest, tail wagging submissively. The strap-on was fucking huge - it had been too long since he had taken something like that. And the last time had been with Dora.

"Remember this, little one?" Dora's hair had become wild; the tip of the dildo nudged his tail hole and Yote tried to relax. "Remember the feel of my cock thrusting into you? Forcing you," she bucked her hips, shoving the first few inches into her toy, "open?"

He clenched his teeth, back arching as he unwittingly fought to escape and relax simultaneously. It could have been the largest toy he had ever taken. It was hard to keep track with the Shepsisters. His paws curled into fists and the coyote twisted, pleasure ricocheting through his body as the dildo tapped his prostrate and ground deeper, forcing more pre cum from the head of his cock, staining his belly fur. Dora caught a nipple between her nails and pinched until he yelped, pain and pleasure entwined, only then releasing. His cock throbbed, pre cum drooling down the length. The canine leaned heavily on his legs to thrust deeper, the silicon knot bumping Yote's strained tail hole. Thinking that she intended to push in immediately, he tensed, and flushed with embarrassment as his 'tormenter' laughed, tossing her head back.

"Easy there, my slutty 'yote," she whispered. "I know you want this."

He whimpered, struggling to take the thrusts as she pushed into him, fucking him like he had imagined fucking her so many times. But that was before he got to know her. Now all he thought about was what Dora willed, her desires, lusts and how he could fulfil them. She thrust with the passion of a demon, slamming in hard enough to make him yelp from an edge of pain. The knot slapped his rump with every, brutal thrust and the canine's fur matted with sweat, exertion and arousal heating her up from the inside out. The nubs on the inside of that strap-on ground against her clit so deliciously and she craved her second, not final, orgasm of the night. She had much time to play.

Dora brought her muzzle to Yote's, catching his lips in a lustful kiss, her tongue dominating as Yote's yelps and whimpers increased in urgency. The coyote arched as if to press his chest to hers, but could not quite reach. Breaking the kiss, Dora giggled, a crazed glint to her eye.

"Tell me you want to cum."

"I do...Mistress..." Yote growled and bucked, toes flexing. "Please, I want to cum. Please, Mistress, please, do as you will to me, but please let me cum, if you are so kind. Please."

He could hardly believe the words spilling from his lips, entirely caught by her charms. Dora was pleased. So pleased that she withdrew the toy entirely from his rump - for the time being - shoved his legs down to the bed and straddled his hips, grinding over his cock. Yote whined, a high, plaintive noise, and bucked, feeling the tip of his cock catch at her entrance, heat pulsing from within. Dora pushed down on him insistently, allowing his full length to slip within, and rocked her hips with a growl, eyes lidded and body trembling wonderfully. The coyote tensed, fighting off orgasm, and she caught his throat with one paw, a threatening growl building in her chest. He fought for breath as her paw tightened.

"Don't cum now, coyote," she snarled, upper lip curling back from her teeth. "Fight this one off - resist! - and I'll make you cum. Once." She stared him down. "If you get your rocks off now, you will regret it. But perhaps you will enjoy being locked in chastity for months on end. Certainly would have its perks for me."

She paused as if considering the prospect while Yote shook his head desperately, as much as he was able with her paw around his throat, restricting his breathing. Months would be too long! He would be good! The coyote gasped.

Satisfied that he would hold off, as instructed, the canine returned to her pleasure, resting a paw on the coyote's chest for leverage - twisting both nipples in turn when it so pleased her - while the other slipped within her harness, rubbing her clit in small circles. Her pleasure mounted and she bucked upon her prize, hips rising and falling in heated lust. Dan twisted and squirmed, beating off natural instinct with every ounce of willpower he possessed. It felt too good, but he had to be good, good for Dora. He had to be good for his mistress. Then she would be pleased with him.

It was excruciating. He watched her heaving body, drinking it in like an addict supplied of the sweetest nectar, and arched up from the bed, tail hole aching both from lingering soreness and to be filled deeply once more. Every nerve in his body screamed, need rising - he could not cum, he could not give in. Thrusting up, he tried to help his mistress closer with his need, whimpering submissively; her ears flicked to catch the sound and she moaned, suddenly grinding with intense desire. His mistress' eyes closed and she howled out her orgasm, interjecting the piercing note with moans that he was sure could be heard from other guests at the hotel. It had been so easy to forget that they were not the only two furs in the whole wide world in their liaison: they may as well have been.

She came down from the highs of orgasm with deep pants, both paws falling heavily on to his chest. Yote relaxed into the bed, thankful for a moment's respite in which to calm his raging erection, still buried within his mistress, and exhaled slowly, canine contentment at its best. Tired of the bondage, Dora untied his paws with a few swift movements, allowing the ropes to fall on the bed by his shoulders. Eyes half-closed, the coyote stretched, relieving sore muscles in the time he had. He needed that. Everything was right.

Yet he did not expect to feel something around his neck, however, and the musical clink of metal on metal, something tightening enough to make him open his eyes and crane his neck (unduly) to discover what the wicked canine had placed upon him. Dora grinned widely, white teeth flashing. Without him noticing, she had snagged a strip of leather from the nearby table - he had been too occupied to notice anything there earlier - and buckled a collar around his neck. Yote shivered, softly lapping the side of her muzzle. It felt right.

"You're not getting to sleep yet, little coyote," Dora whispered, hair tumbling wildly about her muzzle, eyes bright and feverish. "I've caught you now."

The coyote shrank back, half-propped up by his forearms. Dora raked her nails down his chest, drawing sharp lines of pain, and he inhaled, eyes closing as he fought to stay still, to do as she wanted above all else. Grasping his scruff, she dragged his head back, forcing him to meet her gaze, so intense that he was immediately struck by the all encompassing desire to look away.

"And I'm not letting you go until I'm done," she whispered, lips a hairs-breadth from her own.

The canine pushed herself roughly off the bed, jostling her victim as she darted to her toy box and began rummaging. Slowly, Dan sat up, muscles shaking - climax had drained him momentarily - and simply watched her. Her fur gleamed in the low light, black, brown and tan merging together to cover one delicious, tight, muscled body that he wanted no more than to be on his knees before. He wanted to please her more than anything.

He licked his lips.

"Dora?"

She stopped, eyes darkening, and turned to face her charge.. Yote shook his head, proving that he was not asking her to stop or being disobedient by raising his paws up to the collar like a begging puppy, ears submissively lowered. A cheeky, girlish grin twitched at the canine's lips and she danced from one paw to the other, grabbing a length of chain and two cuffs from her box of toys. Yote smiled, albeit nervously and blew his advancing lady a kiss. That grin should have terrified him but only lust crackled through his veins, alongside something that he could not quite place, something that he had not felt for a long time indeed.

Yote ducked his muzzle between his paws, looking up as Dora climbed over to straddle his hips, strap-on grinding against his swiftly hardening shaft.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."