FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The lights of warehouse 444 burned bright even at this late hour when the rest of the night shift had already called it a day. Crickets chirped a lonely chorus that echoed across the great dusty halls adorned in a disorganised mess of wooden pallets and heavy machinery. Silence burned all around the stuffy atmosphere of the warehouse's cramped corridors.

Jack glanced down at a yellow notepad and slowly checked off the last two items on his list. These last few hours had been hell as work seemed to drag on in ever slowing increments. Inventory lists muddled his thoughts and the promise of a soft bed and warm shower was nearly nonexistent.

He cast a glance at a nearby digital clock, its bright red light mocking him as he read out the time under his breath: 3:16 AM. God above, a whole hour later than last time. His eyelids drooped; for a brief second he allowed himself the moment of rest. Barely refreshing.

“Khm."

Her cough drew Jack out of his stupor. His eyes darted around, first down at his notepad to make sure he really had checked off every item from the night's list, then finally to the source of that sound.

Arabella sat a few feet behind him on a perch of wooden boxes that surprisingly held the crocodile's weight. Her eyes were locked on another notepad as she went down her own checklist, but her focus was otherwise placed on him.

Jack chalked the look he gave her to the late hour of the night and the drowsy state of his thoughts. He stared at her for longer than he'd meant to and more obviously than he wanted to.

Her scales, a cool hue of blue and white closely resembling a flurry of snow and ice, reflected the white lights of buzzing fluorescent bulbs, vibrant and bright around her head and shoulders while growing dim and grey the farther down her body they got. They were rough, jagged, almost like armour, and so cold to touch that they almost burned.

This wasn't the, 'I'm just giving you a passing glance,' type of stare, but rather a focused interest on anything and everything that had to do with her. His boss crossed one large leg over the other as her tail thumped against wooden pallets like the clockwork ticking of a metronome.

“How's it going over there?" The purr of her voice was capped off with a slight lick of her snout. She mentally crossed out another item from her checklist. “All done?"

“Everything looks good, boss." He forced himself to stop staring, though not before having one last look. A yellow eye glanced in his direction, that slitted black pupil widening as it took stock of his work. A careful scrutiny made his skin crawl. “We're good to go for tomorrow's deliveries."

“Music to my ears, kid." She set her notepad down and finally placed all of her attention on him. There was a bored drawl of her voice and slight slump of her wide shoulders — Arabella was exhausted. “Hah, well it looks like we're all done. Great work, kid."

She gave him the smallest of smiles, something brief and elegant, and hopped off the crate to stretch her arms high overhead. Each crack and pop of bone and scale seemed to echo loudly around the warehouse.

Together the two walked out to the front where rusted lockers housed their few belongings. A cool draft of air from the warehouse entrance provided some much-needed relief from the stuffy depths.

“God above, it's freezing out there." Jack glanced in Arabella's direction and caught a brief look at her sweat-slickened black shirt. It clung tight to her chest, almost perfectly morphing to the shape of her breasts, and rode up a little over her stomach to reveal white scales that very nearly resembled skin. He wondered then, as he had a few times in the past, if they were as soft as they looked.

The cold was a welcome change. It beat the hot summer days where he felt like he couldn't find an escape from the warehouse's oppressive atmosphere. He did have to remind himself that Arabella didn't play well with the cold — poor woman.

“I think you'll be okay," Jack teased as he turned back to his belongings. He stuffed an old flip phone into his pocket and double-checked the contents of his wallet. “So, same time tomorrow night?"

He turned to face his boss. Arabella had bundled up in a fleece-lined leather jacket which fit her form almost as snugly as her shirt had.

Stunning.

Her tail swished across the concrete floor and that large head of hers dipped a little, as if to get more at eye-level with him. Jagged rows of teeth protruded from her snout, a part of that dangerous and unspoken promise of what would happen if anyone fucked with her. Jack had never seen them put to use and hoped that he never would.

“Same time as always. Don't be late."

“Yes ma'am. Goodnight."

“G'night, kid. Drive safe."

She clapped a hand against his shoulder and gave Jack a friendly shove on his way out. Her way of saying, 'Get the hell out of here'. The two locked eyes for one last time then went their separate ways.

***

Another round of inventory checks. Another late night alone with Arabella.

Long gone were the days when his boss spent most of the night thanking him for staying in with her. His presence was expected more than requested. Jack knew well enough that he could refuse to stay at any point, but that look she gave him whenever the rest of the crew began to call it in…

Her back turned to him, Arabella would merely glance in his direction, those yellow eyes locking him in place. Expectation hung heavy in the air, with his own silent acknowledgement being the only thing that would alleviate some of that weight. He wondered to himself a few times now if he was the only one to notice; nobody else seemed bothered by it.

Arabella needed the help, she trusted him to do the job right, and the extra pay kept him from drowning on most weeks. Yes – he chose to stay.

So a thanks wasn't necessary. It wasn't expected. He didn't need it. Arabella's, 'Great work, kid,' was more than enough.

But then, right in the middle of muddled lists and endless inventories…

The brush of her hand across his lower back as she whispered some nonsense right into his ear that made him shiver and caused his cheeks to flush with heat. A hiss, low and dangerous, like the lit fuse on a stick of dynamite, that would call his attention so he would turn around and be faced with a wall of scales and muscle and earthen musk. A smile and a playful wink before turning her attention back on work to pretend as if she hadn't done anything.

These small moments came and went in the blink of an eye. Jack could go weeks without noticing only to be so suddenly struck by one of these odd gestures that he couldn't help but think about them for a long time.

Her way of breaking up the monotony of their work. Her way of showcasing some small semblance of a deeply-hidden playful nature. Her way of teasing him. Her way of saying thanks.

Time and time again the two had worked in silence with a scant few words shared between them. That was alright — for the most part Jack felt comfortable with her presence and was confident in his work. Tonight was one of those nights, and although they stood right beside one another they'd barely said a word.

But she stood a little too close, even with the lack of space. Arabella made it a habit to brush her wide hips against the side of his body. Jack caught on to it from the first time she'd done it; he did nothing to stop it.

Then she turned her back to him, her eyes narrowing down on one of the dozens of checklists she was working her way through while humming a tune beneath her breath. This gave Jack no reprieve — if it wasn't her hips purposely bumping into him then it was her tail swatting not-so-subtly against his leg like an iron whip.

He followed the length of it from tip to base in time to catch her bend over a little with a loud hum that he believed was meant to catch his attention. Thick legs spread apart as she rested her arms against a crate and arched her back slowly, steadily, to the same pace with which her tail ran up along the inside of his leg.

Look away.

Jack shifted uncomfortably as Arabella's hips swayed left and right. The higher her tail rode along the inside of his leg the more of her ass he got to see, sweaty and round and soft. Tail rose a little more and reached just above his knee, and her back arched until her ass was practically riding eye-level with him, and those hips swayed to a mesmerising tune that had him reeling like a cobra to a charmer's flute.

His throbbing erection brought a sense of much-needed focus. The hypnosis had been broken; Jack willed himself to tear his eyes away from his boss' ass. God above, he's admired Arabella's body before but this… He gave her his back before her tail could get any closer to his crotch. She didn't need to feel that.

Something like a throaty giggle escaped Arabella as she cast a glance back at her employee. His flustered shuffling, that desperate attempt at trying to busy himself, and a newfound touch of warmth to his light brown cheeks.

Cute.

“You made sure that these stacks were set to be processed and shipped out of bay 2A." He glanced back over his shoulder. Their eyes met. Jack flashed her a nervous smile. “Right?"

“Yes ma'am. Everything is…" He fought to keep his eyes on her. She was still showing off her ass like he wasn't there. “… is perfect. Ah — Everything's good to go."

“Good! Good…" She finally pushed off the crate. Show's over. “Hah, look at the time! All finished up and still a few hours to spare."

The clock read 1:32 AM. Early, all things considered.

“Well then, I'm in no hurry to get back home. Neither are you, right?" The tip of her tail found his legs once again. He could almost feel the texture of her cold scales. “… right?"

In all fairness, he really wanted to go home.

“I'm in no rush."

“Good. Come, I think I have a couple of beers stashed away somewhere. Have a drink with me."

“That sounds good to me, ma'am."

Arabella smiled, grabbed him by the hand, and started guiding him deeper into the maw of her warehouse. The vice-like grip of her hold hurt. His stomach fluttered as he was forcefully dragged along.

“You've always been good company, kid. I like that about you."

***

Warehouse 444 was situated just on the outskirts of the city. On the drive over and on his way out Jack could make out the distant skyline in all its twinkling splendour, day-in and day-out. The novelty wore off quickly; it soon became just another backdrop to his life, like the moon overhead or the constant smell of wood dust and burning truck fuel.

So coming up to the roof of the warehouse and staring out at that skyline… well there wasn't anything special about the view, and he knew that Arabella felt the same way. Still, she dragged him up here and handed him a warm can of old beer, bid him to sit at the edge of the roof beside her, and simply stared out with him in absolute silence.

It made this beaten-to-death view just a little bit more special.

“Bet I can guess what you're thinking."

The can of beer was comically small in her hand, effortlessly crushed and tossed to the wayside after a long minute of pouring its contents down her throat. She drank it like water; her tongue licked off the residue from the tip of her snout in satisfaction.

“Why'd this old bitch drag me up here?" Her impression of him was terrible. Jack couldn't help but laugh a little. “Spot on?"

“Way off the mark, boss."

“Alright, okay. Let me try again…" She cleared her throat, sat up a little straighter, and placed a hand on her chest. That sweat stained shirt tightened around her breasts. Jack forced himself to look away and swallowed hard. “This beer sucks. I'm tired and I want to go home."

“Hah, you're still a little cold there."

“But getting warmer?"

“Marginally." He glanced back at her – her hand was still squeezing her shirt tight around her breasts – and for a moment marvelled at how her blue scales caught the light of a full moon. She watched him with a sideways look of her eye. “Maybe give up mind reading and work on your impressions? You make me sound uncouth."

“Uncouth? You and your fancy words…"

“I could make a better impression."

“Oh? Please," her voice drawled on for a second, “impress me."

Jack set his beer can down; Arabella snatched it and drank. “God above, it's so cold. Hey Jack, remember that stack of pallets you spent an hour and half moving to bay one? Well change of plans, take them back please and thank you."

A glimmer of amusement was gone, then sparked right back up with a throaty chuckle. “Better not hear you showing off your wonderful impression for the rest of the boys. Don't forget who cuts your checks."

“Why I'd never."

“Good boy."

He had to look away again before she caught a blush.

“Seriously Jack, what's going through your head?" Arabella leaned in and rubbed against his shoulder. The scales along her arm robbed his body of its heat. “I can tell when something's gnawing at you. Call it my special power."

“It's just…"

The looks, her touch, that purr of her voice caressing his ears, a fat ass put proudly on display just feet from his face and a shirt clinging so wet and tight to her breasts he could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. Not just tonight, or yesterday, but every week of every month he'd been working with her. Arabella's scent, the strength to her body, the way she made him feel small whenever she stood by him. That personality. How easily she dominated his thoughts with but the slightest of effort.

“... a lot on my mind that's out of my control."

So painfully out of his control.

“Hmm…" She turned now to fully face him, one leg dangling precariously off the edge of the roof while the other was crossed close to her own body. Arabella called for his attention; Jake answered in kind by mirroring her posture. “Are these the kind of thoughts you want to have or would you rather they stop altogether? If you don't mind me asking."

Her tail thrashed behind her back before finally settling just out of view. The rows of teeth that sprouted up and down along the length of her snout glistened wet with saliva. Her yellow eyes glowed in the dark. She breathed hard and Jack felt it rush along his chest, upward around his neck, and across his face.

“I don't know yet," he finally admitted after a long moment of staring down at one another. He felt exposed like this. She must have known… right? Jack forced himself to laugh – this had to be another one of her games. “God, I really don't know."

“Well… just be honest with yourself and you'll get your answer. Honesty is important, right?"

“It sure is."

“I'm going to ask you another question."

“I'll answer if you get me another beer."

“Sorry kid, all out. Do I get my question?"

Jack made a show of heaving an exaggerated sigh. “Go ahead."

“Why are you still doing this?"

He pondered it for a long time. Arabella allowed him his moment of introspection. Together they stared out to the sleeping city. To be there now, walking its streets, catching the sights.

Jack's answer was a simple shrug. He really didn't know.

Arabella continued after a minute. She'd wanted to make sure he had nothing else to add.

“I mean, you could be anywhere else, doing anything else besides busting your ass here. This isn't good work." She turned to look at him. “And you're a smart kid."

“Clearly not," Jack replied with a scoff and roll of his eyes.

There it was — a chord struck. Her curiosity was piqued.

“Why do you say that?"

He stretched his arms out a little, a gesture meant to focus all eyes on him. “I mean… look at me."

She saw a kid in his mid-twenties. A light shadow of a beard adorned his brown face. Messy black hair was slicked back along the sides of his head and curled slightly near the top. His sunken eyes reminded her of a raccoon as dark shadows were cast over them, perpetually half-lidded in an expression of exhaustion which was undoubtedly more real than it's ever been in his life.

Not the most put-together person, but the most real. Arabella couldn't deny a certain affinity she had for him.

“No offence to you at all, boss — I am more than grateful for everything you've done for me — but you're the best I could land and you're the only one who's given me a chance. Everyone else?" Jack shook his head and bit down on his lip. There were words he wanted to say, words he chose not to air. “Five years of school just to end up twenty thousand in the hole. A plus effort there, Jack."

“Your folks?"

Jack shrugged in indifference. Arabella remained quiet.

“You're the best I could hope for, boss. You're the best I'm ever going to get. I… wow, that was rude, wasn't it?"

“A little bit," Arabella replied, but she wasn't hurt by it. She's heard worse. He was just venting. “Hey, you're fine. Get it off your chest."

“Nah, that's… that's it. Maybe one day I'll get my shit together and be half the person you think I am. Till then…" He smiled at her. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me though. That's kind of you."

“I was just being honest. Speaking of, I'm going to tell you something and I need you to listen. Okay?"

“Alright?"

“I just had a thought now that you've said all this, and I think I've had this thought for a long time now, but what you need is a… guiding presence. An anchor. A strong dominant hand." She felt his eyes on her. It gave her a thrill. “You wouldn't say it and you'd probably never admit it, but that's exactly what you need.."

“Yeah… I don't think-"

Arabella reached for his throat and tore her claws through the collar of his shirt, ripping the fabric apart as he was forcefully dragged like a stuffed doll right up against her body. A sense of overwhelming vertigo was replaced with the fear of falling over the edge of the roof and the shock of a large, strong tongue pushing its way past his lips as his face clashed hard against the front of her snout. Jack choked and coughed as her tongue dove straight for the back of his throat. Her hold on him tightened – a dangerous hiss held him still in her grasp, and…

It was over. Arabella pushed him back, her tongue lolling out between them for a second before disappearing altogether to the depths of her maw. There wasn't a smile, or a cocky stare, or any further touch to explain what just happened. Just an aching on his lips and the taste of her tongue clinging in strands across the inside of his mouth.

“Don't worry kid, I'll take good care of you. Come on, we should get going. Same time tomorrow night. Don't be late."

“Yes ma'am."

***

One day went by, and Arabella's eyes were constantly on him. She kept finding ways to separate him from the rest of the team just so she could stare and talk with no distractions.

Two days went by, and he felt her claws drag down along the length of his spine. She refused to stop touching him, and when they were alone they sat in silence up on that roof with her arm protectively and possessively wrapped around his shoulders.

Three days went by, and now she refused to talk, look, and touch him. Jack was left with a feeling of longing and… disappointment? Then anxiety, then fear. Had he done something wrong these last two days? Had he missed a sign? Why was she avoiding him? How could he fix this?

The fourth and fifth day were his days off. Jack tried to distract himself and focus on other matters but his thoughts kept going back to Arabella. First that kiss, then the doting and touching and sense of peace, and finally the rejection. His heart ached.

It was a dangerous game, one he'd fallen for without even realising it. Her hold on him tightened for every hour they were apart and Jack didn't even try to fight it off because it all kept going back to that kiss, the touching, the doting, and finally the rejection.

His phone buzzed just before sundown: the boss was calling.

“Same time tonight. Don't be late."

“Yes ma'am."

Dangerous game. Dangerous woman.

He arrived just as a sea of twilight stars streaked across the sky. And there she was standing under a yellow light that made the colour of her scales scatter to the wind. Arms crossed tight to her chest, her face twisted up in what Jack thought must have been a scowl. Frustration, or anger?

Arabella watched his slow and nervous approach. That meek smile did little to deny the beating of his heart. It wasn't joy but expectation and adrenaline. He'd thought long about what he would say to her but all arguments were lost to time when they laid eyes on one another.

“Are you scared, kid?"

“A little bit, yes." He looked around the parking lot and noted the stillness of the warehouse around them. They were alone, so truly and terribly alone. “You didn't call me here for inventory lists, right?"

“No, I didn't. Honesty for honesty – how'd you feel five nights ago?" Arabella cocked her head to the side. He could feel her eyes darting up and down before centering on his face. “No, not that. Don't answer that. I just need you to know that we're starting things off properly this time. We're going to do it slowly. We're going to take our time. If I enjoy myself, then we'll see how things go from there. If I don't then we go back to the old routine, no questions asked. Is that… agreeable?"

She hummed that last word. It vibrated within his own chest. Of course he found it agreeable, even if she was staring at him like nothing but a piece of meat. He saw her throat bulge with a gulp – starving.

“That sounds good." His voice cracked. God, he felt like a teenager.

“Perfect. I made a spot for us already." She gestured at the inside of her warehouse with a nudge of her head then took a step in his direction. “It's not comfortable…" A hand was placed against his chest and slid up toward his throat, claws dragging against his shirt, “... and it's cramped. Stuffy. Hot. You don't mind that, right? Being trapped like that with a predator like me."

Predator – emphasised with her hand wrapping around his neck with enough strength that he felt some air get choked out of his lungs. Her hands were freezing, though not as cold as her stare. That look lacked any and all warmth that should have accompanied a promise like that.

Jack struggled to swallow and, out of fear for her further squeezing down around his neck, tried to break away. Arabella didn't budge; her hold on him did not relent.

“I'll take that silence as a yes. Come on, after you."

The gates to the warehouse closed with a clang reverberating all through its massive hall. These towering crates and winding paths once so familiar now felt more like an endless disorienting maze as Arabella dragged him further and further along by the collar of his shirt.

“Right, over here." Her tail swatted against his leg and fingers brushed past his lower back. With a shove he was forced into what was, by all intents and purposes, a cell. Boxes had been moved and stacked so this makeshift room had but one entrance and exit. It was dark, hot, humid, and he barely had enough room for him to move around in. Exactly as Arabella had promised.

And then she forced her way in, grabbed him by the hips and lifted with a loud grunt. Claws burned through his skin – Jack bit down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from crying out as he was hoisted up on a crate that sat him eye-level with his boss, who finally retracted her claws from his hips to lick at the little stains of blood tinting their tips.

Of course she made a show of it as she sucked on a finger before commenting, “A little fear's not so bad. You'll get used to it."

“Talking from experience?" Jack forced out the smallest laugh. That's the best he could do as he drowned in Arabella's musk.

But it was enough for her. It broke some of the tension, eased a burden from his shoulders if just for a second. She smiled at his words, but the smile faltered a moment after.

“Nobody really lasts long enough to find out. I really hope you'll be different."

“Wait, what's that supposed to-"

She shushed him with a finger to his lips. One finger, and then a second. Arabella didn't smile; she no longer laughed. Her slitted pupils widened within narrow eyes and she commanded with a voice both low and thunderous: “Suck it."

Blood tasted somewhat like melted butter to his tongue, an undertone of saltiness mixed with that familiarity of metal. Then came the grit of dirt, its raw bitterness clashing strong against a final layer of sweat. Jack sucked on the tip of Arabella's finger and licked along the length of her claw all the while captivated by that unblinking stare. In all that time, all those minutes he spent with her finger pushing a little farther into his mouth, Arabella did not once blink.

“I like that about you, kid. You never say no." She drew her finger from his mouth, spotless and glistening with a thin coat of saliva, then cupped his cheek and smeared his own spit across his jaw. “Head up. Good, and eyes on me. That's it… I think you're ready."

Jack could taste her near the back of his throat. He could already feel her large tongue rolling inside his mouth. Almost there now – she held his head up high and forced him to watch as her snout moved closer, slowly, while her body pressed against his with a weight that drowned his lungs and a chill that robbed him of warmth and heat. Heavy breasts brushed against his chest. A thick thigh forced itself between his legs. Hard nipples poked through their shirts and a surprisingly wet heat pooled across his thigh.

“Remember," Arabella began to whisper as the tip of her snout pressed against his nose. Jack drew in a sharp breath as his world became enveloped by thick, heavy, musky crocodile; “we're doing this slowly."

And then her snout parted — God, she could have swallowed him whole — and an impressive tongue slathered a trail of saliva across the sharp curve of his jaw.

Jack moaned, much to Arabella's self-satisfaction, as he was painted and soaked all the while her body continued to press down against his. He could no longer just sit on the crate she'd perched him on; Jack laid flat on his back as his legs uselessly wrapped around one of Arabella's thighs. Both her hands held on tight to his head, long fingers criss-crossing through messy black hair, as she laid her torso down on his.

Heavy, he wanted to complain. Too heavy. He could barely breathe. But then he felt that weighty tongue slide down around his jaw and over his neck and Jack could do nothing but moan once more while a flash of fear stabbed its way through his heart whenever he caught a flash of her teeth.

“Slowly," Arabella reminded him, like a promise of torture as some of her weight was lifted off his torso. Her breasts still hung right above his chest and nothing save the tip of her tongue flicking a strand of saliva across the tip of his nose distracted him from them. “Tell me how you feel."

“Boss, I…" Jack paused as he felt her tongue slide down the other end of his face. She'd yet to touch his lips. Arabella was savouring every part of him that she could find. Her hands, still wrapped so tightly around his head, trembled. He could feel the way her hips rocked back and forth against his leg. “S-Shit, I don't… I don't know."

“Hm… hah, that's good enough. Remember, eyes on me." She twisted his head a little, exposing more of his neck for her. “I don't want you looking at anything else." The full weight of her tongue collapsed against his skin, writhing before dragging upward with an audibly slick that caused his stomach to twist itself into knocks as shivers wracked his skin. “Don't think of anyone but me." No longer tongue but teeth against skin. When did she… “Got it, kid?"

Jack almost nodded — almost. His breath hitched right up against his throat as teeth the size of his finger scratched along the surface of his neck and grazed his lower jaw. One false move… a tiny mistake… he became painfully aware of the rush of blood twitching against his throat, along his wrists, on his face, and down between his legs where he violently throbbed and ached with unfaltering desire.

He finally forced himself to take a breath. Just… take a breath. She wouldn't hurt him, right? The words came easy to him then: “Nothing and nobody but you."

Arabella's teeth separated from his skin and she drew back enough that he could get a proper look at the whole of her face. Those glossy blue and white scales caught some unseen light and shimmered in the dark. Satisfaction and power emanated from her form.

“Good boy. Momma's got a reward for you." Oh, god… he wanted to fucking scream. “You've been teased enough."

Her claws scratched against his skull. The tip of her tongue circled around his lips. And finally…

Arabella needed no invitation or consent. His body trapped beneath hers, so easily submitting to her desires, voided the need to ask him anything. And it felt good. Parting those soft full lips with her tongue and shoving it past his teeth gave her a shot of adrenaline and burning desire she hadn't felt the first time they'd kissed, up there on the roof.

Jack struggled to accommodate her. He gagged, yet that didn't give pause to her relentless advance. He tried to wrestle for some form of control but his tongue was easily beaten down and drowned out by hers.

This kiss, if it could even be called that now that his mouth had become a hole for her to tonguefuck into a state of twitching numbness, broke him.

Jack could feel her fat cunt grinding up against his leg while nipples teased back and forth across his body in an endless dance set to the tempo of her squirming tongue. He swallowed hard and with some effort sucked on that massive intruder, his eagerness showing through even as he was robbed of heat and strength and what little energy he had left.

He clawed at the tough armoured scales of her back after finally finding the strength to touch her, yet despite the fact that his nails could hardly leave a scratch he felt a rumble of satisfaction cross her body. Good boy, it said. Make momma proud.

Her tongue slowly forced itself past his throat while battering down a gag reflex that had him swallowing and choking on the endless waterfall of saliva she'd been feeding him. Jack felt every inch, every little bump. It left him moaning like a common whore.

One day… one of these days he'd be able to take all of it without so much as a gag on his part. He wanted his throat to be the perfect hole for her tongue. Fuck…

Arabella pulled back, and with her came inch after inch of warm muscle drawn from the depths of his throat. Jack counted the seconds it took for him to finally be left so empty. Maybe he could convince her to go in for seconds if he drew his hands up her back or planted a kiss along her snout.

God he tried, but all he could do was pant heavy and hard as he struggled to catch his breath. As they struggled to catch their breaths. Jack now realised Arabella was left in much the same state as he had.

A single bead of sweat formed between her eyes. Those ever-watchful eyes that never blinked.

“Boss?"

Arabella drooled as her gaze quickly darted back and forth from his puckered lips to brown eyes, glistening skin, and back to his lips. Her hold on his head loosened a little. She leaned more of her immense weight down on him and she felt him struggle.

“Hey… b-boss?"

Shit… shit. Did he do something wrong? Did she not enjoy this? What could he have done better? What did-

“Just thinking to myself."

“Thinking what?"

“How I should have done this to you months ago." And there it was — that dangerous look to her eyes that brought back a sudden sense of uncertainty. “No backing out now, kid. You're mine. All mine. All fucking mine, and momma's hungry."

Mine.

Mine.

Arabella chanted the word with a zealous fervour as she violently forced her tongue back down his throat.

***

The gates to warehouse 444 clanged shut as a final farewell to a long, exhausting night.

Arabella breathed deep of that refreshing air and shivered as it chilled the little droplets of sweat still clinging to her scales. She carefully stretched her neck left, right, then loudly snapped her jaws shut as if setting a bone back in place. The base of her tongue ached – it sat useless and heavy on the floor of her snout.

She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Relax… but her body was in a frenzy, all worked up and excited just to be eventually denied. His taste lingered on the roof of her mouth. No matter how she rested her tongue it felt like the two were still entwined around one another.

She promised to take things slow. She wanted to see just how far back he could bend.

“We're all good, boss."

Jack's voice was low and gravely. The poor kid was struggling with his own words, but he tried to play it off all the same. Trying to be the cool kid, like the last two hours hadn't had such a profound effect on him. Arabella glanced in his direction and noted the way the human was casually rubbing his jaw.

“Good kid. Get yourself home and rest up. I'll see you tomorrow."

“You, uhm…" His eyes widened a little. Jack took a step in her direction but stopped when their eyes met. Such respect. Such tension. “Don't you need me here tonight?"

“Call it PTO. You earned a little break. I'll see you tomorrow night, okay?"

“Alright, yeah. Sure thing, boss." His disappointment was palpable. Cute. “Hey, wait. I want to ask you something."

“Okay?" Arabella turned, arms crossed, eyes forward. He had her full attention. “Shoot."

“You said before that we'd either see where things went from here, or we'd go back to the old routine. So which is it?"

She rolled her eyes with a scoff but smiled all the same. “You know the answer."

“Okay… I still want to hear you say it."

“Oh? Alright." She stepped up to him, her hands tight around her own hips, and bent low until the two were level with one another. That attitude of his was gone in an instant – that look of his was why she'd taken to calling him kid. Lost and so impressionable. “We'll see where things go from here. But you left an impression. How's that for stroking your ego?"

She leaned in and pressed her snout to his mouth. Lips so soft she could feel them through her own scales, like pillows that she'd willingly lose herself in. For a moment she considered and nearly gave in to temptation – an unbridled need to devour him once again. Her loins ached; she wondered how that smooth tongue of his would feel between her thighs.

Maybe she could take him home. He didn't need the rest…

A quick lick of his bottom lip. That's all he would get and all she would allow herself for tonight.

“Momma needs some sleep. G'night, kid."

***

Jack's phone buzzed for the third time that night. Arabella, again.

Before tonight they had often kept conversations to a minimum. She didn't like calling anyone from her crew after hours – something about respecting their time off. That's the status quo that Jack had gotten used to. A phone call from her usually meant a dire emergency or something important enough that it had to be communicated right then and there.

Of course, much like the rest of their working relationship, that all changed tonight. Two other times Arabella had rang his phone. The first was to make sure Jack knew that he'd left his coat back at the warehouse and that she'd stashed it into his locker. The second was… odd. She called him but stayed silent until he spoke up. She didn't seem like herself. Now?

“Hey boss." Jack placed the phone on speaker and laid his head back down on a pillow. Jack had a hard time falling asleep. Merely resting his eyes was the best he could do. “Everything okay?"

“All good on my end." Arabella spoke to him in a low drawl that purred like the engine of a brand new car. He felt drawn to the sound of her voice. “I'm just checking up on you. Making sure that I didn't do any permanent damage to your throat."

Honestly? Some part of him still ached. A phantom need really, more than it was actual pain. “Yeah it's better."

“Good." The sound of her voice buzzed with static, clearing up just a moment later. “-been real quiet at the warehouse without you."

“Miss me already, boss?" Jack teased. It was easy to say such things now when rows of teeth weren't gashing at him inches from his face. He did catch her hiss coming through from the other end of the call.

“As if… fuck, I have. I've been thinking."

“About?"

“What I'm going to do to you tomorrow. Hope you're ready for round two."

“I – uhm…"

Her laughter came distorted with another wave of static. “Momma wants to have some fun. You wouldn't deny her, would you?"

Jack hated how much he loved the way she spoke to him now. It came so naturally from her, as if she'd been practising these lines the last few months, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to use them. And he? God above, he loved hearing it.

“Never. Could I ask what you're planning?"

“That's spoiling the fun, kid."

“I think I need to mentally prepare myself."

“... Fair's fair, I suppose. There's this little something I've been wanting to try since I saw you, back when you first came asking for a job."

“That's a long time."

“It is. Between us? I'm wet just thinking about it."

Jack could almost picture it. In all their time together he'd rarely caught a glimpse of her fat snatch bulged against her pants, often enough in those days when sweat drenched their clothes through, when she'd bend over a little too much or spread her legs just as he glanced in her direction. He salivated and swallowed hard, his only response an airy breath into the phone.

“I thought you'd like that. Anyway, there's this cute kid at my warehouse with the softest skin and I've been eager to…" Her voice trailed off.

“Boss?"

“Ah, fuck it. I'm going to bite you, Jack."

His reply was quick. “Uhm, no."

Hers was faster, stern. What had once been a playful tone of voice suddenly dropped to a dead chill. It felt to Jack like she was laying right by his side and whispering straight into his ear. “Yes I am, so do whatever you need to mentally prepare yourself because I had a taste of you already and it wasn't enough. Momma needs more."

“Boss… maybe we should reconsider-"

“Be a good kid," Arabella interrupted. She barely even registered his own voice; “and play nice. You leave a good impression on me again and momma's going to reward you – maybe."

“Maybe?"

“We'll see now, won't we? Anyway, you don't have a choice. Remember who you belong to, kid."

The call ended with a click. Jack stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing. He wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

God above, what has he gotten himself into?

***

Arabella was on him the moment the two had walked into that small cell she'd built for them. It was like the flip of a switch, she pushed him back against a crate and grinded her body up against his while groping at anything she could get her hands on.

Her self-control was a fragile little thing. A thin sheet of ice with cracks cobwebbing out from beneath her feet. And while at times it held her steady and cool, more often than not she found herself falling through to the murky depths below.

Depths she now dove through as her strong hands carved indents against the supple fat of his ass. Head first, Arabella, in hedonistic glee when he gasped and squirmed and fruitlessly tried to push her back. Nowhere for her to go, kid, unless it was directly on top of him. Exactly as she wanted it to be. Exactly as she needed it to be.

Jack's face was forced against her sweat-drenched shirt. The tangy, salty scent of a day's worth of exertion steamed like a sauna, saturating his nostrils and blanketing his thoughts while calloused fingers and rough hands manhandled him up and on top of that uncomfortable crate.

He pulled his head back the moment Arabella gave him the chance and caught a hard breath of air that stank of both their worked-up lust. It was hot in here, as humid as a summer day, and dark now that his boss loomed over him like the beast of a predator that she was.

“Fuck it smells great in here," Arabella commented as she focused his attention to her breasts by heaving each with either hand. Her shirt did little to hide them now as it strained against their mass while pert nipples pushed against the fabric. “Come on kid, don't keep momma waiting. I know you've been eyeballing these for months."

“S-So obvious?" Jack asked while tearing his eyes away to look up at the woman who so thoroughly dominated his very world. He scuttled back a few inches along the crate, Arabella closed the gap once more, and with nervous drive he reached for them only to be denied with a click of her tongue and her swatting hand.

“No hands. Let me see that tongue."

Jack opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue for her to inspect. Seemingly satisfied with his prompt and obedient reaction, Arabella responded by finally holding one of her breasts up to his mouth. It was bigger than his head – her hand sank and disappeared into it as flesh spilled over between her fingers. Her shirt tightened; a fat nipple, concealed as it were, finally landed on the tip of his tongue and Jack was afforded a singular moment to slowly, carefully, and deliberately lick it the way it deserved to be.

Soft but firm. It gave slightly to pressure, bending to the will of his tongue, but stiffened right back as soon as he relented. On her shirt Jack could taste Arabella's sweat and dirt and it teased his palate as it was wrung out to the back of his throat. He obediently swallowed it all just as he felt Arabella would want and then refocused on her nipple, swollen with bated anticipation for the flat of his tongue to caress its sensitive tip.

“That's a good boy," Arabella praised as she drummed fingers along the back of his neck, her claws sinking into the skin with enough force that they felt almost like blunt needles. And god did it hurt, like a concentrated fire burning into his body, but it didn't stop Jack from lapping away at her fat nipple. “Put your lips around it… suck on it, baby."

A good boy, Jack thought to himself as he struggled to catch a single breath of air. He formed a tight ring with his lips and gently squeezed down on her nipple while flicking it with the tip of his tongue. A gentle sigh followed him circling around its circumference; the sharp snap of her tail smacking against a wooden crate was the response to his firmly pressing down on her nipple with his teeth. It ached under his ceaseless ministrations.

“Don't stop." Her voice was a low and sultry purr, more big cat than crocodile. “Harder!" she breathlessly commanded. “S-Slower…" she requested. “Like that… lick it slowly… worship me. F-Fuck."

His steamy breath collapsed like a ring of fire over her nipple as Jack pulled back from her tit, his tongue connected to her shirt by a bubbling string hanging listlessly in a concave arc. He focused and trailed its concave trough till he laid eyes on the impressive outline of a nipple he'd spent the last few minutes licking. He would have spent the rest of the night worshipping her breasts had she not put a stop to it.

Wordlessly, that soaked and sweaty shirt began to lift up along her body. Jack watched closely, a cobra charmed by its master, and pressed his face to her soft stomach the moment it was finally revealed to him.

Heaven. The white scales were just as he'd imagined, so soft to the touch they felt like feathers beneath his hands. Jack traced their light outlines with his fingertips and trailed a gentle series of pecks and licks up and across every inch of her stomach.

Here her scent stewed as a heady aroma and like water he lapped it up alongside the dew of sweat clinging to her shimmering scales. A salty bitterness unparalleled in taste – addiction forming at the very tip of his tongue. Her stomach fat dimpled beneath his fingertips; the unmistakable weight of her tits finally free from the tight restraints of her shirt shouldered itself onto his head.

“That's a good look on you, kid." Arabella loved the view, the way he disappeared into her body as he smothered himself against her. This really was the perfect position. If she just undid the clasp of her pants and shoved his face down… “Hey, look up at me."

Jack licked up her stomach and felt her tremble. Cold scales gradually warmed up against his touch. She shivered and twitched – she was sensitive here. Arabella stared down with a side cock of her head. Her eye was wide; drool leaked down into the valley of her breasts. And he finally got a good look at her nipples, dark in contrast to the cool white of her scales, surrounded by the wide and bumpy surface of her areola.

She was incredible.

“You're very lucky, you know that?"

“Yes ma'am," Jack replied as the smallest hint of a drunken smile twisted up his lips. “I'm well aware."

“And what do we say?"

“Thank you, ma'am."

“Good boy. Now…" She quickly wrapped her arms around his waist. Arabella did not give Jack a moment to think. “Up you go!"

“Ara - shit!" Jack instinctively put his arms around Arabella's thick neck for support, fingers digging into the tough scales that ran down along her spine. Every slight movement made him think that he was going to fall, that she was going to suddenly drop him, but her hold around him was tight as she sank him against her soft body and slammed his back up against a wall. “Fuck… fuck, wait. Arabella. Wait!"

“No more games, kid." Arabella hissed as she glared right into his brown eyes, the lust and excitement and drunken joy they'd radiated so suddenly replaced by the depths of anxious fear. “Oh you know what's coming, huh?"

“Wait, please. I'm not-"

“You're ready," Arabella interrupted. He stared right at her teeth, jagged and blunt. He was far too aware of them now. Far too close. “If it makes you feel any better then bite me back."

“You'll barely feel it!"

“Just a suggestion."

Arabella licked along the base of his neck, right where shoulder meets spine. X marked the spot. Between licks he felt her teeth graze against his skin like nails on a blackboard. He was painfully aware of every touch, from the overt to the subtle, but nothing could distract him from the sudden, wet, painful sensation of having the whole of his left shoulder swallowed into her maw.

Jack buried his head into her neck and whimpered out, “It hurts…" as teeth sank into skin. He tried again to distract himself: soft breasts pressed against his chest, massaging fingers kneading his ass, the sweet scent of her scales, or the taste of her sweat. It didn't help – there was nothing in the world that would have eased the sensation of a dozen blunt, fat needles threatening to carve out a chunk of his body. “Please, it fucking hurts!"

She slathered her tongue wherever it could find some skin in response, some vague comfort of a promise that everything would be okay. A stark contrast as her jaw tightened around his shoulder, as teeth pressed into delicate flesh.

“Stop! God, I…" Jack swallowed; he was so painfully hard as well. Why? When his very breathing ached and his beating heart threatened to explode? When fight or flight told him to run as far and fast as he could? When being trapped the way he was between a soft body and a hard wall made him feel like a rat in a cage? “M-Mom! Fuck…" The word escaped him – Arabella's glee was showcased with a hard huff of excited hot air and another slap of her tongue against the swallowed portions of his chest.

He frotted against her thigh in some desperate search for pleasure as a fire surged around his neck. His cock ached, a tension of his loins that grew as something sharp punctured the skin around his shoulder, leaving him clawing at Arabella's scales in a wordless gasp.

Why did this arouse him so much?

The taste of his blood… sweet fucking blood. It drove her into a frenzy.

Her teeth sank; another puncture. Fresh blood spilled across her tongue. Lap it up, swallow, and moan in clenching ecstasy as he screams her name into the ridges of her scales and crushes his groin against her thigh. She felt how hard he was, the strongest of his throbs coinciding with rending skin.

That feeling of him writhing in her grasp, both trying to fight her off while also submitting to his fate, was ecstasy manifest. It was real fear, the kind where you didn't know what the immediate future held. Fear for his body. Fear for his shattering mind.

Jack groaned. Jack screamed. Jack whimpered. Fresh tears streamed across his cheeks. He kissed her scales and zealously huffed her scent. His balls ached for a desperate release as her teeth punctured more skin, a million little needles penetrating nerves that rang alarm bells within a confused brain half fighting for his life and half submitting to Arabella's overpowering display of domination and predatory hunger.

Lick it. Taste it. Swallow it. Blood smeared across the back of her throat. It burned her up from the inside-out. Her scales tingled. His body felt like an extension of her own. The pain he felt was hers; her ecstasy became his.

He arched his back, trembled, and cried out her name into the hollow of her collarbone as an orgasm struck him with the force of a freight train. Hot cum liberally spilled into the tight confines of his pants, each painful throb of pain coming from his shoulder echoed with another gush of seed that now seeped through denim and smeared across Arabella's thigh.

And that cry of pain and pleasure forced out Arabella's own climax. Her teeth loosened themselves from around his shoulder as legs buckled; she sank to her knees with his body still held tight in her arms while a liquid warmth of primal excitement drenched her pants and saturated her thighs. She desperately lapped away at every wound she could find in a never-ending high.

Jack panted hard and breathless into her neck, eyes closed tight while they burned with the flood of pain stemming from his shoulder. Too scared to look – terrified of the creature licking at his wounds yet he clung to her like a child, lost and alone. His anchor in this turbulent storm.

A gentle breeze made him cringe and inwardly gasp as he tried to swallow down the pain. The wounds were exposed, bleeding, raw. Arabella slowly sat him down on the floor after minutes of just… holding on to one another. Her hands trembled; she couldn't move.

What had she done to him?

“There, there…" Arabella reassured as she gingerly brushed a finger near his shoulder, her hand instinctively drawing away when he flinched at her touch. Scared, in pain. She hadn't meant to… it was just supposed to be… “You're okay, Jack. You're going to be okay."

Yet she couldn't help but stare. The puncture wounds perfectly aligned to the shape of her teeth. They weren't deep, thankfully. But it was a lot of blood – too much.

He slumped forward, from the pain or the need to be held. An arm cradled his head while the other strummed a silent tune along his spine.

“Easy now. It's okay… I know it hurts. I'm sorry, Jack."

“You're a fucking bitch," Jack whimpered, muffled as his mouth pressed against the inside of her arm. The pain in his voice no longer thrilled her. This hurt, deeply.

“I know I am," Arabella replied with genuine tenderness. He no longer flinched to her touch. She was careful not to let her fingers linger near his wounds. “I'm an old bitch. I'm sorry."

Silence. The bleeding would stop soon, but he was going to scar. Permanently. That's just how he was. The thought of that, well…

He sighed into her arm, tapped her elbow as a request for some space, and breathed what felt like his first lungful of fresh air in hours. Jack opened his eyes and saw a bright room and bloody teeth protruding from a red-tinted snout.

“Next time, boss," he had that same tone of voice as when they'd made out: exhausted, drained, nearly defeated; “please go a little easier on me. It hurts… it hurts a lot."

“Yeah, I… of course. Uhm… next time, kid?"

“You enjoyed yourself," Jack replied. Presented as a revelation more than the obvious statement that it was. “I… I think I'm a masochist?"

“You're a goddamned idiot." Arabella held her head against his. Teeth brushed against the side of his cheek, streaking it red. She parted away, gave him a reassuring lick, and forced herself to smile. “There's a first-aid box in my office. If you'll let me take care of you."

“Please," Jack replied in relief, “if you have some painkillers. Fuck, I don't think I can stand."

“Just put your arms around my neck – there, like that. Easy now." She shivered as his soft lips planted the weakest kiss she'd ever felt along the side of her neck, where just moments before he'd been begging for her to stop. A kiss so tender, so full of…

It couldn't be love.

“Just hold on tight to momma. I'll carry you there."

***

It wasn't so bad now that she had a better look at him. Not as many punctures as she initially thought; not as much blood as her imagination led her to believe. Good… the aching feeling in her heart could finally give it a rest.

“There you go, kid." Her hands sidled up along his bare back. Dried blood flaked off his skin and scattered across her scales. Arabella fought back the urge to give them a lick. Now was not the time. “Does it still hurt?"

“A little, yeah." Not as much as before. The painkillers were doing their thing. “Thank you, ma'am."

“You shouldn't be…" Deep breaths. He was thankful even after what she'd done to him, when he hadn't wanted to go through that in the first place. She forced this on him. Jack had accepted it, maybe even enjoyed it, but she forced it. And he was thankful? “You're welcome, Jack. Try to take it easy today, okay?"

“More PTO?"

She followed the contours of his body. Fingers draped over shoulder blades. Her hands eased gently down to his narrowing waist. There Arabella felt the urge to just… hold him. Wrap her arms around his waist, pull him back against her, lay her head on his good shoulder, and breathe.

Would that be so wrong?

Arabella stood with a forced smile meant to ease his nerves. Jack just stared up at her, a tired expression shining off half-lidded eyes. “Don't complain. You know you need it. Get some actual sleep and a hot shower."

No argument from him, not at first. Jack just watched her pace around her office.

“They're going to start to wonder," Jack mused. “The rest of the crew on why I've been gone so long."

“I'll just tell them you're sick," Arabella replied. “What would they know?"

He nodded. “Right, yeah. It's just… I had a thought."

She glanced in his direction. “That being?"

“If anyone puts two-and-two together. If anyone asks. Well, what am I supposed to say?" The questing hung like a bad shadow. Arabella felt the unease in his query. “What would you say?"

“Kid — Jack… That's not something I'm ready to answer."

“Right." She tasted his disappointment. What did he want her to say? She knew what he wanted her to say. “Don't worry, if anyone asks, well, they're looking too far into it."

Too far? She couldn't find any words, much as she wanted to say something.

“Hah… guess that's a wrap? I should head back before it gets any later. Goodnight, boss."

“G'night, kid."

***

Some deeply-craving part of him never wanted this to end. The praise so haphazardly tossed in his direction made his heart swell with pride and gave him a sense of confidence he hadn't felt in years. Her idle touch, be it a slight flick of her tail or the long draw of her claws across the low back of his neck, would always cause him to lean into her like some attention-starved dog. If he was lucky he'd be granted treats – a strong tongue cutting off his airflow as it savoured the inside of his mouth or an hour spent with her nipples locked tight between his teeth. If he was unlucky… his body's blank canvass had more than just a few of her scars.

Sometimes those rare moments would crop up where her hands would slip around from beneath his arms to cross tight around his chest and she'd just… hold him. Eyes closed, her snout perched so perfectly on his shoulder that it felt tailor-made for her. Jack would reach up and rub at the scales between her eyes and she would purr. So perfectly content. So incredibly at peace. Intimacy unrivalled by any other experience he ever had in his life. And for a few minutes Jack could fool himself into believing that there was something more between the two of them.

Some deeply-craving part of him found it painfully necessary to remind him that this was all just a game. It would end when Arabella wanted it to end; could be today, could be tomorrow, could be years down the line. What they had between them was a lot of things, yes, but it wasn't love. It would never be love.

The question he'd posed for her months ago went unanswered and forgotten.

He couldn't resent her for that. He's the one that kept coming back for more.

“M-More," Jack whimpered between heaving panting breaths as the blunt end of Arabella's finger teased the tight ring of his asshole.

“What was that, kid?" It stretched around her finger – just the tip. He wanted more, needed more. To make him feel so stretched and full the way only she knew how to. “I couldn't hear you."

“More!" Begging was a necessity. Degrading. Thrilling. Jack wouldn't get what he wanted without it. Arabella had drilled this lesson well. “Please, mom! More!" His voice could barely support itself any longer. Long strands of drool cascaded from the edges of his lips.

It'd been hours of this now, the teasing and the begging. Increments of pleasure and so little reward. 'Pushing your limits,' is what Arabella had called it but for Jack this was just torture. Soul-numbing, mind-breaking torture. And he wanted more. He needed more.

Her finger slipped into his ass a further two inches, hooked downward to search for his prostate. His anticipation bubbled as precum at the tip of his cock which flexed and twitched at every slight hitch of her digit. Jack swallowed hard and forced in another breath of air as the burning around his asshole was overwhelmed by a smooth, dull, and constant wave of pleasure.

Jack begged for more, the word having become his mantra of addiction. Arabella, in response, shoved his head down against the crate he'd been bent over for the last hour as more of her explored further into his guts. There he tasted the residue of her own excitement – the scent of her cunt was heavy in the air.

“Are you going to cum for me, kid?"

“Fuck, boss… please…"

“Are you going to cum for me?" she asked again, her voice growing colder as she finally found his prostate. Arabella was a creature of habit, and Jack knew what was coming next. Rough fingers knuckle-deep pressing down on his buzzer and milking him for all he had to offer. No tenderness; no love. Cold, imprecise, and somewhat clumsy. “Come on kid, say it. Say that you're going to cum."

“Gonna…" Fuck, he was exhausted as well. Jack's tongue felt heavy in his mouth; he could barely get it to move. But the words slipped out of him regardless in that low-pitching whine Arabella loved to hear. “... gonna cum. Arabella, boss, please don't fucking stop. I want more." He wanted to look back at her but she held him down even hard, her free hand digging claws across his scalp as his face was crushed against the crate. The heft of her body pressed against his back. His ass nearly split open as she struggled to push a second finger inside it. “Wait, fuck! Fuck, wait!"

“You wanted more," Arabella hissed, her own drool pooling on the small of his back. She counted the scars – all the marks she'd left on him over the last few months. He was perfect.

“Too much!" Jack begged, but god did he not try to fight back. She was right; he wanted more. The finger already deep inside him pressed a little to the side and somehow he felt that second insertion squeeze past his sphincter.

“Thaaaat's it. See, I knew you could take it." Her fingers both easily slid down until they rested against his prostate. All around his ass clenched hard around them. “Now be a good boy and cum for momma. Paint the floor white for me."

“Don't… god, don't say that shit." Her fingers harshly slid across his prostate in either direction, forcing out of him a thick throb and stifled moan as his hips bucked against empty air. “Oh god that feels-"

His voice dropped to below a whisper when she moved her fingers like that again, but this time she didn't stop, didn't give him a moment's rest. She wanted him to cum, needed to see him spent and drained. It's why she'd been working him up for the last hour.

“How does it feel, kid?"

“Like I'm going to explode – hah, god… – from the inside. Again, and again." Legs spasmed, muscles contracted, and his abdomen burned and ached. “It feels so fucking good."

This was why he kept coming back for more. This was why he gave her free reign over his life. Arabella just seemed to know exactly what he needed.

Her fingers curled inward, over and over again, in a sort of come hither motion over his prostate as she pumped them in and out of him in steady and long strokes that kept his senses alight. Not once did she reach between his legs, even as his climax built to a momentous crescendo of squirming, moaning, drooling, and begging for every feeling, every sensation, every lick, every bite, every stroke.

“That's a good boy," Arabella teased. The words were genuine – she was so proud of him. Oh how he craved every word of praise.

Her body burned with his own sweltering heat. Finally allowed a moment to rest, Jack slumped to the floor and took a second to catch his breath, a moment to breathe. A whole hour of this… non-stop. Driven to the edge, denied, teased, denied. His cock ached, still so needy, and that empty feeling in his rear bothered him when it wasn't being plundered by Arabella's prodding fingers or curious tongue.

A moment to recover himself. A moment to gather up the pieces of a shattered mind. A moment-

“Eyes up, kid."

Jack felt her looming shadow long before he heard her voice and it made him choke on nothing as his throat clenched in fear. More? She wasn't done with him yet? He should be used to this by now, her rough treatment and endless hunger. He should have expected it.

“Eyes. Up."

Thick ribbons of her own feminine cum clung to her large thighs in long viscous strands like cobwebs of her own design. Each one of those prized strings, glittering like precious gems on sapphire scales, drew his eyes farther up until at last the source of her nectar was put on display.

Jack recalled the first time she finally let him taste her cunt. He thought by then that he'd grown used to the scent of her sweat, imposing and overwhelming as it always was. But there, between her thighs? It pooled thick and heavy and settled like stones in his lungs. Jack choked on it, could barely even hold his breath as he swam in her addictive musk. Not like that had been an issue for Arabella, who'd held his face against her cunt and forced him to breathe it in till the scent was forever burned to memory.

Now, all these months later, Jack could still feel the room turn on itself as he was assaulted by that first whiff of steaming, hot, sweaty cunt. The fat lips of her smooth labia practically held a weight of their own, their presence demanding the attention of any and all who saw them. His attention, for they were all his to savour and worship and praise.

Obediently, like clockwork, Jack allowed his tongue to droop from mouth agape as he got on his knees to settle his head directly between her thighs. One long strand of her cum drooled directly into the back of his tongue and the taste of it… Jack savoured that thick honey for a long minute before finally swallowing.

“Now that's a good boy," Arabella whispered through short breaths as her fingers curled along his thick black hair. Jack's hands wrapped around her legs as he pressed his lips to one of her thighs. A kiss, a small lick, then another kiss… “That's it, kid. Clean me up."

She didn't need to tell him, for hers was a divine taste he'd never get tired of. From one cobweb to the next Jack licked along the inside of her thighs, marvelling at the unique feeling of those soft scales against the flat of his tongue, all the while staying vigilant for any more of her ambrosia she offered straight from the source.

A source he now parted slowly, carefully, with the full length of his tongue which seemed to all but disappear between her fat lips. Beneath his hands Arabella's legs trembled, and high over his head he could feel raspy and desperate breaths of air barely containing her wild lust. Jack dragged out a good mouthful of her femcum, allowed it to sit heavy on his tongue, and once again swallowed it whole.

“My sweet boy," Arabella moaned as Jack planted a kiss, then a second, then a third against the scales and flesh of her sensitive pussy. Her fingers clenched around clumps of his hair as every fibre of her soul begged for her to ram him right against her crotch, like she'd done so many times before. “You treat your momma so well. Don't… fuck, don't stop."

That's what Jack loved to hear: breathless moaning and humbling requests for more of what he had to offer. She bucked her hips against his own lips in needy arousal and sighed out with shaky relief at the feeling of his warm tongue sinking deeper between her labia to finally flick at her swollen clit.

Her cunt was the entirety of his world now, her pleasure his one and only focus. The pillowy softness of her nethers became a warm, wet, welcoming embrace which for every lick, kiss, and nibble rewarded him with something rich, sweet, creamy, and mind-meltingly delicious.

Arabella's knees bent as he teased her clitoral hood by drawing careful little circles around it with the tip of his tongue. He breathed deep from her core and revelled in the feeling of her cun dragging up and down against the whole of his face with every deep stroke of her hips.

Jack dragged his tongue downward to catch another small mouthful of her cum and found a clenching hole begging for attention. Teasing her would've been easy, little licks and bites that would drive her insane, but she was already melting against his tongue and beneath his fingertips.

So he gave her what she wanted and sank the length of his tongue into the scalding embrace of her cunt just as his nose brushed up against that ball of nerves, piercing her with a pleasure so concentrated and intense it was akin more to a stab in the gut.

She dragged her pussy across his face, one hand holding his head steady so he'd have no escape as the other reached below her shirt to tug and pinch at her neglected nipples. Jack had sucked on them so often, and for so long, that even after days without his touch they still felt swollen and stiff — she knew exactly where that tongue of his would be going next. But for now…

“Y-You're getting really good at this, kid." He responded in kind by stretching out her clenching walls with a quick roll of his tongue. That feeling of his tongue plunging in and out her quim fueled the fire in her womb, one which had already risen and fallen a dozen times over in that hour spent teasing and fingering his ass. Close, so close… without ever reaching that point of bliss. Her zenith.

Close — she was getting close. Her cum ran a little clearer, flowing more easily between swollen lips. He struggled to swallow it all, to not waste a drop, as he worked his tongue all the harder to bring his boss to the climax she deserved. He wanted this for her. He needed her to feel good.

“Little more," Arabella hissed, and Jack redoubled his efforts. The whole of his mouth worked her cunt, massaging the lips while devouring her from the inside out. Ravenous — a starved and abandoned animal finally fed his few scraps of meat. “Yes, fuck yes! Don't… fucking…"

Her own climax struck quickly — she needed it worse than either of them thought. Barely had enough time to hold back that telling moan, even if the rest of her body betrayed just how good it felt. It was the shaking legs and the thrashing of her tail and the way she clawed at the back of his head over and over again. Her hips refused to stop grinding against his lips and the gap between her thighs that Jack had so diligently licked and cleaned was once again sodden in her own arousal.

Perfect. So absolutely, stunningly perfect.

“So god damned perfect," Arabella muttered between hard breaths as she glanced down at his glassy eyes and shimmering skin. Jack wasn't quite all there yet, still lost in her taste and scent. Which meant… “Eyes up, kid. You're not done yet."

Obedient boy. Sweet boy. His heart hammered hard against his chest as he was once more smothered against her swollen lips.

***

“Hey, boss. Don't forget that tomorrow's first round of shipments still needs to go through approval."

“Work, kid? Seriously?"

“It's important," Jack continued after a moment's pause. His tongue lingered on the roof of his mouth where he could still taste her. “And you asked me to remind you."

“Remind me later, for fuck's sake. Not… now." Arabella huffed and struggled to buckle her pants back in place. Fuck, her pussy still ached after his worship. She added in a whisper: “Barely even got my thoughts together yet."

“That's why I'm here." Jack flashed her a brief smile. He loved watching her dress herself. Something about the sluggishness of her movements made him feel proud. “Anyway, if I'd reminded you later you would've just told me to remind you in the morning, and by that point it'll be too late."

“I know! I know. Just give me a minute."

“Sorry, boss." Jack sat up on a crate and had a look around himself. Those towering structures of metal and wood felt all the more constraining after the fact, once the two of them had spent their long hours together. It occurred to him that they hadn't done any of this anywhere else but inside Arabella's warehouse.

Her safe space, he presumed.

“Hah… can't wait to hit the bed. Come on kid, let's close up."

Jack didn't move. “Actually…"

“Again?"

“Just need to finish a few more things," Jack argued as he hopped off the crate. More work. A good distraction. “Trust me boss, I'm not gonna sleep well unless I know that's all finished."

“Yeah but… again?" Arabella glanced at the clock. “Sun's gonna be up in a few hours."

“Well it's not like I work the day shift." He paused for a moment. “I'll be fine, I promise. You go back and get some rest. Let me finish up here."

“Fine, just be quick. I want you out of here and in bed before the morning crew arrives."

“Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am."

“Yeah, yeah…" Arabella turned to leave, stopping herself short of disappearing around a corner to glance back at him and ask, “What's wrong, kid?"

“Boss?"

“What's bothering you?"

“Nothing, I promise." He flashed her another smile and somehow managed to keep his voice steady. “I really just want to make sure we're all caught up."

“Jack…"

“I promise."

Her heavy sigh was that of defeat. Pressing the issue before hadn't helped and it certainly wasn't going to get her anywhere now.

“Fine. G'night kid."

“Goodnight boss. Rest easy."

It's the seventh time he'd done this to her in the last couple of months, ever since… Arabella shook the thought away. No, not that. She's getting way into her head.

Minutes later, Jack was alone. He breathed deep from her lingering scent, quickly found a quiet spot where he could review his inventory lists, and diligently began to work the next few hours away.

Dawn broke through the clouds by the time he'd called it a day. Utterly exhausted, his mind numb. He fucking needed this. A distraction; some semblance of peace. A moment in his life where he wasn't thinking of Arabella – of feelings not shared.

***

One year later.

He thought he'd learned all her tricks, memorised her subtle cues, and tuned in to all of her desires and needs. He thought he'd finally gotten to know her for about as much as she allowed him to know. He thought that he'd cracked the code of this relationship.

For this was more than just a game, a realisation which finally provided some small peace of mind. A game would have ended long ago when the victor tired of her spoils. A game would have been discarded and forgotten in the blink of an eye. A game would have ended as soon as they hit their first slump. But they got through it all, even if at times it felt like Arabella just needed some time away from him. She kept coming back much the same way as he did.

Their working relationship had never been stronger as they settled into a rhythm of trust and mutual understanding while their physical relationship, turbulent as it was, never failed to make Jack feel wanted and desired.

Jack could not imagine his life without her. For all the joy; for all the pain; for all the heartbreak he endured.

She never stopped caring. She didn't need to love him back.

One year later.

And still, despite Jack believing that they'd reached the crest of what could be considered their personal relationship, Arabella found one last way of surprising him.

Up on the roof, where their life together had so suddenly and unexpectedly begun, the two quietly celebrated his birthday.

Beer and cupcakes – Arabella was already reaching for her fourth as Jack still munched down on the one she'd handed him. They sat together with their backs pressed to one another's as the clouds finally parted so they could bask beneath a warm Autumn sun.

“Oh that feels great," Arabella commented as she craned her neck up to the sky. “Beautiful day, huh?"

“Can't complain," Jack replied between bites. He eased back against her, his body almost perfectly cradled atop the curling slope of her wide tail. The ridges of her scales bumped against his back but they weren't entirely uncomfortable now that her body radiated warmth. A quick nap here, her body as his bed, would've done him a world of wonders. “Feels pretty good."

“Sure does… twenty-seven, huh?"

“Getting old, huh?"

“No, you're still just a kid." Her body twisted up a little, just enough that she could look back at him with the side of her eye and see just how comfortably he'd settled against her back. It didn't hurt her in the least to have him lay on her tail like that. It honestly felt pretty good. “It's a wonder that you get away with the things you do, with that baby face."

“Hey!" Jack elbowed her – it hurt him more than it did her. “I think I'm pretty dashing."

“Pff! Dashing?" They both felt her throaty chuckle deep in their chests. “Sure."

“How about… handsome?"

“Getting warmer; not quite the word I'd use to describe you."

“And what would that be?"

“Cute."

Jack huffed, his cheeks burning. He had to get used to her calling him that some day, right? “That's an overused expression now."

“I'll be tired of it the day you stop fidgeting so much anytime I say it. I can almost feel you getting hotter over there."

“Boss…"

“Whoa there! Are we in a sauna? You're burning up!"

He elbowed her again as Arabella burst into a fit of laughter. “You're fucking impossible."

“I'm right." She reached for another cupcake; this one she handed back to Jack, who wordlessly accepted it. “Hey, you're sure this is fine?"

“More than fine."

“We could still go out, you know…" He couldn't see it, but she looked over to the city. “Hit the bars, or whatever the hell you want to do."

“Boss."

“Just a suggestion. I just… – it's only a suggestion."

“I'm fine like this. Bombastic celebrations aren't really my thing. This works just fine."

“Yeah, right. Which is weird, now that I think about it."

“Yeah?"

“Yeah." She slacked some of her weight onto him, enough to stretch her shoulders and cross her legs. “I always took you as the party type of guy."

“Fucking… really?"

“No. I'm just talking out of my ass."

“Oh."

“You're probably the most reserved person I know. Can you imagine if I didn't know that about you. I mean, it's basic."

“I could see it." Jack felt her body shift. He quickly corrected with a curt, “Not from you, I mean. I could see someone else not paying enough attention. You? I mean, you know me pretty well, boss."

“Do I?"

“Sure you do – I think."

“Maybe. Fuck if I know, honestly. It's mostly just vibes. Well, no, maybe it is more than that. I do know you a little."

An uncomfortable silence settled their little spot on the roof. Jack ran his fingers across her tail's spine, pushing in slightly with her thumbs between the ridges just the way he knew she liked it. Some small attempt to comfort her. “Boss, what's bothering you?"

“A lot," Arabella replied with surprising honesty. “What's your favourite colour? I don't know. What kind of movie genre do you usually watch? Fuck if I know. What's your favourite type of restaurant? Do you like to cook or are you a takeout type of person? Shit, guess what, I also don't know that. I mean, god, do you even like cupcakes? Well?"

“Uh… yeah, I do."

“I wanted to buy you a gift. Is he into technology? What type of music does he listen to? Which stores does he like to shop at? Jack, how long have we been at this for?"

There wasn't a strain in her voice; no tell-tale cracks of something deeper than the superficial. But he felt her swallow down something hard and painful. Jack continued to massage the base of her tail as he replied:

“A little over a year now, boss."

“I know how to make you beg. I know how to make you moan. I know how to make you scream. I've memorised where every sensitive spot in your body is. I could close my eyes and point out every blemish on your soft skin; I could even tell if you had that before or after you met me.

“You've got a chip on your top-left incisor, but I wouldn't be able to tell you how you got it because I sure as hell didn't cause it and I've never actually… bothered to ask, have I? You sometimes limp late into our shifts. It's subtle; you're so used to it that you probably don't even notice it anymore, right? But something happened. Don't know if it was an accident. Don't know if you were just born that way. I just don't know."

She curled her tail inward, a silent request for him to massage a little higher up. And so he did, dutiful and diligent. The very tip of it quivered almost like a cobra's. Like the rest of her body – Resplendent.

“This… never really bothered you before," Jack stated, a fact he'd come to accept a long time ago.

“It hadn't," was her honest reply.

“And it's only bothering you now because you wanted to buy me a birthday present?"

“Yes – fuck, I don't actually know." She took a deep breath. “It's been bothering me for a while."

“Yeah. I figured. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, don't let it bother you?"

“No?"

“Nah. I… Well, I've tried not to let it bother me in the past. There's a lot I don't know about you either. I mean, beside the physical aspect of our relationship, we're really just strangers to one another, huh?"

“Fuck that doesn't make me feel any better."

“Yeaahh… sorry, boss. Hey, you know what helps me out whenever I'm feeling bummed?"

Jack used her tail as a pillar to lift himself back on his feet. Already he missed the warmth of her sun-basked body, the touch of her scales, the feel of her steady and deep breathing. But he could have all that later. Another day. For now?

For now he just came up to her front, leaned down a little, and pressed a small kiss to the top of her snout, right between her nostrils. Nothing serious, nothing deep. A quick peck meant to lift her spirits as well as his.

“It's work. Come on, it'll keep you busy. We can… well, we can come around to this later, if you want. When you're ready to talk about it some more. And maybe when it's not my birthday, hm? So you're not feeling so guilty."

She wanted more than just that kiss. Arabella had half a mind to drag him onto her lap but… but that was part of the problem, wasn't it?

“I've got a better idea. How about tonight, after work, you and I head back to your place?" She couldn't hide her uncertainty. “We, uhm… we can get some pizza. Watch a movie. Maybe? Or do something else. Whatever you want. If you want to, that is."

“Yeah, you know what? That sounds like a great idea."

***

Jack stuffed his old flip phone into the back pocket of his jeans, double-checked his wallet to make sure everything was in its place, and eyed a note he'd pasted on the inside wall of his locker — reminders for the next few days of work, most of which he'd already gotten through.

All good on his end. A quick glance at his watch nearly shocked him. Still a couple of hours left till midnight. When's the last time he'd finished this early? Now if only Arabella would…

She appeared without warning, her hand slinking around the rusty door of his locker to drag it back just enough that he could see her face. She was all teeth, a pleasant little smile parting her snout as she breathed deep and asked: “Ready to head out?"

“Ready. I guess you can follow me in your car?"

“Actually," Arabella stepped back. Man, she really did look good. She leaned her weight on one leg and gestured out to the warehouse doors; “I was thinking that I'd drive us to your place. In my truck. That one — over there. You've seen it."

“Uhuh…"

“Listen, I know it's weird. I just really want to drive you around in my truck. Okay?"

“That sounds good to me, boss."

“That's good. That's — good boy."

And there it was. Jack salivated at the words, their sudden sultry tone causing his heart to skip a beat. He would never get tired of it. Never.

First she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragged him along for a couple of steps, but then paused and quickly readjusted to hold his hand instead. Warm, smooth, soft… She rubbed the side of her tail against his leg and led him out of the warehouse.

Hers was an old and beat up junker of a pickup truck painted a cool light blue of a similar colour to her scales. The engine took a few seconds too long to grumble back to life and the gears churned loudly as she shifted into reverse, but the interior was kept clean and the ride was surprisingly smooth after that initial bump.

“A hand-me-down," Arabella exclaimed once they were well on their way. Small talk. Something to fill the void of silence as the two drove down a long, empty, winding road. “My dad bought it for me god knows how many years ago. I was still just a kid – about your age."

“Boss, you really consider twenty-seven to be that young?"

“When you're as old as me?" She laughed. Jack raised his head a bit, expecting… but she didn't go further in. “Anyway, it's always just worked for me so I haven't found a reason to sell the old pile of scrap yet."

“It's never broken down?"

“Oh, constantly. Nothing a small peek under the hood won't fix."

Some image of Arabella in a tight, oil-stained shirt and ill-fitting denim shorts came to Jack in a rush. Bent over the truck's engine, ass swaying left and right. The view of a lifetime.

She shifted the truck one gear higher then moved her hand over to his knee, giving it a tight squeeze before rubbing up along his thigh. “Comfortable?"

“Yeah," He placed her hand atop of hers, that simple touch warming her scales. “You know which way to go?"

“Kind of. Be a dear and make sure we don't get lost, alright?"

***

For all the time they'd spent together, so much of it was at the warehouse and so little could be attributed to anywhere else in the world.

Of course, she hadn't minded that fact for a long enough time. At the warehouse she was in control – her word was the unquestionable law and the power it gave her was intoxicating by its own right. And she was fine with allowing Jack to live his own life because, at the end of the day, he'd always come back to her and she'd always have a hand over his life. To guide him, control him, and console him.

But then the cracks started to form, and the feelings beyond what she was comfortable with began to develop, and soon enough she began to wonder what his life beyond the walls of that warehouse was like. Where did he live? How did he live? It bothered her – it pained her.

Why not act on impulse sooner? Why not take the step she'd taken tonight months ago? Why wait until his birthday?

Because he'd be more malleable today. Because it was easier to disguise her need for something more than control and submission behind a mask of superficial desires to please him. Because what if he had said, 'No'? Good god, she didn't even want to consider that possibility.

Jack's apartment was comfortably small, a little bare but still with a touch of his own personality that she immediately zeroed in on as he apologised over a non-existent mess and fussed about behind a refrigerator door so he could fetch her something to drink.

The walls were decorated with laminated movie posters from the bygone era of the horror genre. She pointed at one and commented, “They don't make them like they used to, huh?" before running her finger across the surface of a coffee table; not a speck of dust in sight. Potted plants decorated some of the corners to his apartment, little things which livened up the otherwise drab colours of his walls. They were real as well, not the plastic crap she kept back at her own place. She noted as well that one end of a couch fit perfectly for two had more noticeable wear and tear than the other – this she left for him as she settled down for the evening.

These were the little things she'd wanted to know and revelled in discovering for the first in her life. In a sense, it was like rediscovering who he was as well, beyond the obedient kid who often enough found himself calling her, 'Mom'. His humble voice piped up from the kitchen behind her, as the clattering of glass and pop of a bottle rang loud to her ears. Arabella reminded herself to inspect that place later; more for her to learn.

“Make yourself at home, boss. Take your jacket off; kick your feet up. My place-"

“Hey, kid." She turned her head a little and flashed him a toothy grin, “you don't have to call me that here."

“I…" She could see the neurons firing off in his head as he processed, rethought, and processed some more. Cute. “... boss?"

“That word," she continued a moment after. He was a smart kid, until he wasn't. Part of his innocent charm, she supposed. “Not out here, okay? You hardly ever call me by my name anyway."

“Well…" He slipped up by her side and handed her a glass of… she sniffed the contents of it. White wine? “It's a bit of a mouthful."

With a scoff and a laugh she raised her legs and promptly threw them across his lap after he'd taken a seat. “You bring a woman to your house then tell her that her name's a mouthful? Real fucking smooth there, kid." His cheeks flushed a warm red. She raised her leg a little and brought her knee up to his lips. Jack kissed it without hesitation. “As much as my ego loves it, quit with the formalities. At least while we're here, yeah?"

“Sure thing," he kissed her on the knee again. The pants would have to go soon – she needed to feel his touch against her bare scales; “Arabella."

She consciously purred and threw back the whole glass of wine. It went down easy and smooth but left her wanting for more as a sweet aftertaste lingered on the back of her tongue. “There you go, kid. Doesn't that just roll off the tongue."

“A-ra-bell-a." Jack sipped on his glass of wine; his hands reluctantly let go of her leg when she moved to get back on her feet. “Hey, I can get you some-"

“You stay right there," she sternly ordered, then ran a claw beneath his chin to watch him squirm. “Hey, mommy works too, you know?"

“Yeah?" He leaned into her touch for a moment and drank, then handed her his own glass for it to be topped off. “Good luck with that."

“Spoilsport."

The kitchen was small, but like the rest of his apartment Jack kept it meticulously clean. A slight scent of oil and spices lingered in the air but it was nothing offensive to her senses. Navigating the cabinets and drawers quickly became second-nature to her once she'd found some reason to how he organised himself. Knives with knives, forks with forks. He would absolutely hate her apartment.

“You cook?" She asked after a peek into his fridge. Leftovers from a few days past. It all looked delicious.

“When I get a chance, yeah."

“And I've never tasted any of it?"

“Well…" Yeah, she knew why. She never asked, and Jack had never found a reason to bring it up. Maybe he'd wanted to; maybe he'd tried only to be blown off. Why would he ever try again after that? “The next time you're here I'll be sure to fix you up something good."

“The next time?" She walked back to him with the bottle of wine in hand, at first considering taking up her perch beside him before… His face lit up when she awkwardly straddled his lap, both knees planted firmly on the couch to either side of him. She towered over him, her body casting a long shadow across his twinkling eyes. “Kid, I've barely been here a few minutes and you're already thinking about next time?"

His hands slipped beneath her shirt without prior prompt. That's good — her tail knocked into the coffee table as he pressed his fingers into the sensitive scales of her stomach. “There will be a next time, right?"

Arabella kept most of her weight on her knees instead of him, but regardless the boy squirmed beneath her. His eyes devoured her body as greedily as his hands touched it. She took a swig of wine straight from the bottle and stated, “Maybe this will be my only time," before pressing the bottle to his lips.

Jack drank deeply while further teasing her stomach scales with his gentle, caressing massage, stopping at her own mercy to catch his breath and ask, “Will it?"

He had to crane his neck up just to look her in the eyes. Arabella loved that — she felt like his temple. Setting the bottle aside for the moment, she lowered her head a little and flicked her tongue across those soft, wine-tinted lips and savoured the taste. He was breathless, and that look in his eyes was pure worship.

Mine. How she'd chanted that word on one of their first times. How it resonated so deeply in her core any time she held him close. How fucking stupid of her to not just take the deep dive so long ago. All mine.

“Learn to live in the moment, kid. But if it helps you sleep at night," she flicked her tongue again but this time allowed it to linger just a little more across his lips. Jack met it with his own and the two shared a quick and sloppy kiss; “I know for a fact that I'll keep finding reasons to come back here. So get used to the idea of seeing momma more often."

He was almost speechless. The only word from his mouth was, “Heavy," as she grabbed a hand of his and put it up against her tit so he could heave it, grope it, fondle it to his heart's content. Her nipples already threatened to punch through the fabric of her shirt and she loved that he wasn't shy about playing with them at all.

Arabella pulled back from Jack's face before she outright salivated on him and asked, “Is this what you wanted?" before drowning out his answer with another mouthful of wine. She waited until he'd swallowed, till that look in his eyes drifted and parted to unseen shores, and then quickly followed suit with by finishing off the bottle herself. It clattered uselessly on the floor – she was going to find them another, soon. Her tongue found his left ear as teeth announced their presence against the side of his neck. Oh how his breath cut itself short every time.

“Arabella," Jack gasped. It sounded good – it sounded right. Her name on the tip of his tongue, spoken with a sort of deference that made her feel like a queen, loved and worshipped and cared for.

“Well now… we've got the whole night ahead of us." She shifted her weight so he could feel the brunt of it as his hands roamed and explored freely beneath her shirt. “What do you want to do first?"

***

His bedroom was hot, humid, musky, sweaty.

Ravaged.

Broken.

Defiled.

Jack's heavy panting was broken by whispered praise and breathless desire as Arabella urged him on with a slight swish of her tail and a look of pure, uncontrolled joy. Those wide yellow eyes were hypnotic in their focused and unblinking stare, making him feel as if he were her whole world, now and forever.

Both arms wrapped tight around the base of her thick tail as he rutted her ass like a beast untamed. His teeth harmlessly sank into whatever tough scales he could reach, the thought and action behind it enough to drive Arabella mad with desire all the while some voice in the back of her head asked, 'Why haven't you done this sooner?'

She swore she could feel him right up against her womb, despite their difference in size. He felt like the perfect fit for her. The mere presence of his cock burned her insides with every ragged and exhausted thrust, almost moulding her to be his perfect sleeve. Wet, willing, and oh-so hungry for more.

“Don't you fucking dare stop," Arabella warned when she felt him start to slow down. There was a delirious drunken look to his eyes but he did not stop, did not relent in his focused determination to fuck her into his bed. His tongue ran circles around the underside of her tail, fingernails itched and scratched, and all the while continued to pump in and out of her cunt with a grunting, burning, throbbing passion. “Don't you ever s-stop."

“Never," Jack growled as he hilted into the sopping mess of her snatch, taking just a moment to truly marvel her warm and tight embrace as her walls suckled on every inch of his length with wanton need. If he'd just stayed like this, paralysed from the waist down in overwhelmed pleasure, then it would have been enough to drive him over the edge.

She held him down by the shoulders. Had it been minutes? Hours? God knew, she didn't care anymore. He squirmed beneath her hold and struggled to fight back in some mock display of valour. It was cute; it triggered some deep-set instinct in her soul that made her want to eat him alive.

Rend him into a broken man, frothing and salivating and begging and screaming her name in pain and hunger and fear and lust. The thought made her grin, then burst into a cackling fit of laughter as she lifted him by the shoulders and once more slammed his body down against his bed, forcing the last of his air from his lungs while breaking any semblance of a fight left in him.

“There's my good boy," Arabella cooed as she felt something burning hot slip from between her thighs. The creampie he'd given her had been strong, virile, and deep, but despite her best efforts she couldn't keep every drop inside. “Now be a sweet boy and lay still – just like that. I want you to get a good look at the mess you made."

She was true to her word. His bed groaned in awkward complaint as Arabella shifted, turned, and threw both legs to either side of Jack's head. Already she could feel his hot breaths panting against her thighs as that burning look of curiosity and pride prodded farther up her legs. She forcefully locked his head between her knees, reached down past her stomach, and with two fingers parted her sodden and swollen lips in time for a glob of his cum to drip from her winking, battered entrance.

“It aches," Arabella whined with unusual desperation. “You know what to do, right? Yeah, you always know what to do."

The night wore on, at times at a steady pace and at others slow and easy. His scent and sweat latched on to her scalding scales and she found herself wishing that it could be like that forever – that this night would go on for the rest of their lives. No concerns or worries to distract them from each other. Nothing that would ever take him away from her arms;.

His bed was too small for the two of them, or maybe she was just too big in general, but that didn't stop them from finding some space to lay with one another. She practically became his bed in that aspect, which was all but fine with her. Arabella matched his gentle breathing while listening for the pitter-patter of his heart.

Just a few hours left till dawn now – he was tapped out. Embarrassingly enough, so was she. An experience she hadn't felt in… well, Arabella couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so thoroughly satisfied. Nothing they'd done together at the warehouse really lived up to this moment in time.

“You, uh… you awake?"

He stirred a little, his head cradled between her breasts. A comfortable position for him, even trapped in her arms as he was. Jack didn't voice a single complaint.

“Shit, did I wake you?"

“No, no." He breathed deep and cuddled closer against her soft body. “I'm still up. Having a hard time falling asleep." He laughed and added, “Everything kind of aches."

“Hah! Tell me about it. But it feels good too, doesn't it?"

“Sure does. Well, it isn't like this is new or anything, to us I mean. But this feels different. Right?" He took that tone of voice – he wanted to be right.

“Oh, you're right," she replied to ease his nerves. “I'm going to ask you a question now, okay?"

“Shoot."

Arabella smiled. Felt like a really long time since they've done this.

“Any regrets, Jack? About us, I mean."

“No, none." She wondered, was this the truth? Arabella studied him for a moment but couldn't spot a lie. “What about you?"

“Just the one." Arabella admitted. Waiting so long to do this, to finally accept her own feelings. Control was good – it was great! He made her feel strong and desired, and for a really long time that's all she really needed. But for over a year she'd neglected a greater part of herself. Afraid? Maybe a little bit. “But momma's keeping that one to herself."

“Hmph," he kissed her scales. She caressed his cheek.

“Just an old bitch's thoughts. Nothing to worry about."

Over a year of hurting her own heart. Over a year of hurting him.

No – never again.