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“I’m telling you, it’ll be fuuuuun.”

“It’ll also almost certainly end with us getting caught, kicked out of the venue and arrested.”

“Who would hear or see us? Who would even know? It’s a wedding: everyone’s been drinking like a fish. They’re either out there on the dance floor or heading back to hotel rooms already...”

Gemma was standing in front of the maintenance closet with only the slightest hitch in her party dress, but it was enough to show Hark the curve of her backside and the delicate scoop of her rump, just shy of flashing her panties to him in what would have been a high traffic area, if Gemma wasn’t right about her statements.

Everyone was distracted in one way or another. They were just faces in a crowd- only the bride and groom would be so clearly remembered- and though Gemma was starting to make her point, she didn’t realize how much she was getting under Hark’s skin in doing so.

That would have been worth the risk either way, but minutes later...

**

“Hey...h-hey! Careful with the dress!”

Hark would have ripped the clothing right from her flesh, if not for that last bit of his better judgment, knowing that Gemma would have to walk back to their hotel room in just her skivvies.

“You’re getting bent over a shelf in a janitor’s closet, and you’re worried about me tearing your dress?”

It was hard for Gemma to tell if Hark was teasing her by then, or if he was making a genuine callout.

She loved that change in his demeanor, knowing that she’d be kept guessing about his next move until they were a crumpled mess of sweat and disheveled clothes.

“Either that, or you dipping[TH1] the hem in that bucket because you were too eager to get started,” Gemma countered. “I know how you can get when you’re all in a tizzy...”

Naturally, Gemma was the one to work him into such an amorous mood in the first place, and she’d keep twisting that little thorn in Hark’s side as long as she could, but she knew her words were numbered.

Once the ram got his paws on her proper: be it a hold of the hips or a lift of the thighs, she wouldn’t be able to string together those teasing phrases any longer.

“You can pretend that this isn’t what you wanted until they turn the lights off on us,” Hark replied, keeping a tight grip on her dress. He tugged just one of the shoulder straps down, revealing the first strap of a black brassier, matching the dress and the pair of sheer panties that clung to her womanhood below. “But you and I both know that you’d have been begging for me to stop somewhere on the way back to the room...to throw you over whatever piece of furniture I could find...”

The other strap came down a moment later, urged on by a tight grip and a firm tug from Hark. “No, n-no way...that’s not like me at all ,[TH2] ” Gemma argued, but that sing-song tone still carried her voice like a sarcastic melody.

“You’re right. We wouldn’t have made it past the elevator before you would have bargained with me to push you over and pin your face to the carpet... admit it.”

Rich, dark chocolate eyes sparkled at the first order of the evening; Gemma was glad that Hark couldn’t see her reaction right then, even if he could have guessed how delighted she was by the shudder of her flesh in his overwhelming grasp.

“...I...I mean... of course I would have,” she confessed, her voice weakened by his domineering authority, but there was no less sincerity to her reply. “Do you know how hard it is to keep from dropping down in front of you at every turn and just begging you to have your way with me?”

She never had to drop far: the miniature, lop-eared bun was naturally dwarfed by Hark, who stood almost a foot and a half taller than she did. “Thank goodness I’ve trained you to have a little more tact than that. Would have made a real mess of things on the dance floor...”

Moisture crept around the crotch of her panties well before the pair had any sort of privacy, thanks to Gemma taking up as much of the dance floor as she could with a spirited routine.

What worked through that sheer, mesh fabric anymore was unbridled arousal, leaking in such quantity that, even through the crotch, a small strand of natural desire dripped to the floor; the first of a host of juices that would stain the closet before they were done.

“But you...you would have loved that, wouldn’t you?”

Gemma gulped, but she knew better than to lie to the ram, right then. “Yes,” she whispered, the softer tone of her voice speaking volumes about how desperately she’d wanted exactly that scenario to unfold. “I can’t think of anything better than my ram taking me and bending me over in front of...of everyone , so they can all see that I’m his little fuck toy...”

She was still egging him on, in her own way, but she knew that she didn’t have to push anymore of the ram’s buttons.

That being the case, more and more of her soft, cream overcoat was being revealed as her dress was shuffled off of her body, forced into a puddle of fabric on the floor.

That same arousal that had spilled from her already would cling to her dress by the time she could reach it again, and as she tried, she knew it would be in vain...but she had no idea Hark would be so forceful as to grab that wrist and pin it to the utility shelf in front of her.

“Hopefully these cleaning supplies will suffice for your audience,” Hark said. “It’s the best that you’re going to get.”

Standing so tall behind her that Gemma wondered if his head might bang against the overhead lighting, Hark wasn’t just a force to be reckoned with for his height, but for the beast he became when someone pushed him a little too far- a trick that Gemma infamously played on him- no matter the consequences it would ultimately have for her.

“Awfully nice lingerie you picked out for the evening, Gemma...”

Though she could guess at some of his antics before they unfolded, there was always an element of unpredictability to Hark, and that evening, the caramel-coated ram was in rare form, grabbing the waistband of Gemma’s soaked panties before she could protest.

“T...t-thank you,” she was meek in her reply, even as her body leaned forward in a natural, submissive posture.

“Do you agree with what they say about lingerie like this? That it’s basically just gift wrapping, waiting for the right person to open their present?”

The fabric was already failing, but when Hark curled his grip into it and tugged, adding that little bit of extra pressure, Gemma’s ears twitched to the telltale riiiiiip of fabric being torn asunder.

She was of two minds about the pair of ruined panties, as they fell atop the slump of her dress: disappointed at first- she did love that pair- but immediately after, arousal surged through her body.

To think that Hark would literally rip the clothes from her flesh, just to prove a point or teach her a lesson...her body was already sensitive at the concept, and knowing that reality, her nerve endings went ablaze.

“You didn’t tell me you’d actually...a-actually tear them off like that.”

“You’re the one who tells me that I’m full of surprises,” Hark reminded her. “And I’m the one who’s going to stuff those panties into your mouth if you make too much noise.”

It was more of a dare than a proper warning, but it gave Hark a chance to consider his next move, and Gemma something more to think about, as another sound tickled the length of her lapine [TH3] ears.

That was of a zipper finally coming undone- a subtle noise where dress slacks were concerned- but Hark was one step closer to showing off that impressive cock, and in such close quarters, Gemma had already brushed against it once or twice, before it came to a full erection.

I swear, he’s even bigger than usual, she thought. He must be really into this, after all...

She hadn’t doubted it for a moment, but in that same moment, she had long enough to think over what she’d been warned about.

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t speak up?”

Her volume doubled, and as Hark looked to the door, he was glad that he’d never dropped Gemma’s panties, as if he knew that she’d try to push his final button, whatever that was.

Feeling the moisture of her own arousal against her chin, Gemma didn’t try to fight it proper when Hark reached around and pressed that soaking crotch to her lips...but she did give the slightest bit of a squirm and a struggle, if only to play into their natural dynamic.

Hark knew better than to egg her on, but he couldn’t help himself. “You were warned,” he told her, even as she whimpered against the warmth of his palm. “Open up, or I’m shredding your bra next.”

Turning back, Gemma’s eyes met with the curled horns that framed eyes of slate[TH4] , and even through his glasses, she could see that wicked intensity.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever pushed him quite so far before, but when she knew she’d gotten to him, her jaw gaped just enough to let those panties in, tasting her own arousal every time she inhaled.

“So you can listen,” his voice took on a proper, impressed tone, but it only lasted as long as those words...and once they left his maw, that stern edge took the ram again, as he took Gemma by the hips. “Since I know you have your attention now...you’d do well to keep those panties in your mouth, Gemma.”

She would have asked why that was, if she was still trying to poke the bear.

“Trust me,” Hark added on, as if he could read her thoughts.

Equal parts unquestioned dominance and lustful desperation, Hark lifted the submissive bun from the floor, hoisting her upright such that he could he fucked her from behind and below, but his arm was wrapped around her tummy to start with: it wasn’t the angle he preferred.

“Kick your legs up onto those shelves,” he demanded, his voice stronger than it was loud; he didn’t have to scream to get his point across. “Hoist them up for me, now.”

They’d settled back into their proper roles by then: Gemma wouldn’t be trying to do anything more to stoke the fires of passion within Hark.

He was already a towering blaze by then, standing behind her only in the most literal sense...but in every other, he overshadowed her entirely, much to her continued delight.

“Did I stutter, Gemma?”

She hesitated only for a moment, and even then, it was only to let Hark feel the tremble of excitement running through her thighs before they parted and lifted toward the shelf in front of them.

Hark knew that she was into their play, but he didn’t expect to be able to hear that subtle noise of petals easing open, complete with the soaking overture to tell of the bun’s arousal.

Clumsily enough from her hanging posture, she kicked her toes up the shelves, hiking herself into the air until Hark could slide his palms up and under her rump. He cupped that flesh with renewed intensity, and with a firm push from below, he forced a bounce through her legs and a lift through her body, just enough that his rising cock would press against petals as their bodies settled again.

“Pushing you down to the floor might have been a bit more fun, but goodness only knows what kind of chemicals have been down there,” Hark noted. “Having you up here, bouncing on my cock like the desperate little thing you are...that’s a much better way to punish you for being such a little cocktease.”

Having her voice denied was as great a punishment as any other, and all the while, Gemma had perfect little quips for Hark...and at every turn, she had to swallow them back down, gagged by the very streams of arousal that Hark forced her to produce.

In that way, it was all the more exciting to taste her own juices, but she didn’t have a chance to get wrapped up in those smaller details when the rounded tip of a much larger detail was gliding against her soaking folds, moving up and between their welcoming embrace, teasing Gemma with the possibility of penetration.

She knew it was coming, but the bun would never know when: Hark wouldn’t offer her the kindness of telling her to brace herself, or even warning her that he was getting ready.

She could only guess- and hers was spot on- as she started to feel a fresh, enticing buzz at the peak of her womanhood, that Hark was getting close to changing his angle, and after plenty of teasing bucks, rubbing the tip of his cock against the hood of her clit, he slipped his grasp from her rump to the underside of her thighs, forcing her hips to arch back and her petals to shift just right, dropping her body onto the head of his member.

Dripping wet and pouted, her petals eased around that tip...and against the gag of her panties, the bun cried aloud, knowing that no one would be able to hear her, knowing that she’d earned this punishment and every hammering thrust that came thereafter.

She was almost proud of herself for being able to push Hark’s buttons for such a long time; she’d been past her breaking point well before then.

“Slipped in so easily...you weren’t preparing for this in the bathroom, were you?”

Tempting a thought as it would have been, Gemma hadn’t gone to quite such lengths. Everything was happening in just the right order, the evening unfolding with just the right pace that anymore teasing would have driven her up the wall, and any less would have taken away from the impact of that first penetration.

Quivering thighs shook in Hark’s controlling grip, and against the underside of her rump, his hips bucked up and full, heavy orbs swung, papping against her softer flesh and telling her the force she should expect from her dominant partner, just as she felt her insides being forced to stretch.

It was the most wonderful combination of subtle discomfort and overwhelming pleasure- like an itch scratched just one too many times- and she lived for it.

“Such a t-tight fucking pussy...and you just keep giving it up to me like this, whenever I demand it,” he teased, knowing how much easier the bun would melt if he kept pouring on those sensual words. “Almost like you already belong to me...almost like you’re my mate.”

The term carried a great enough connotation that Hark knew what he was getting into by throwing it around, but when they were in their classic arrangement, with the stout ram pounding her from behind and the submissive bun begging for whatever punishment she could get, he wasn’t afraid to pepper up his taunts with it.

There was one layer beyond that, however, that would force her already quivering womanhood to clamp and milk on his cock like nothing else.

“But if you were my mate, I’d be breeding you right now,” he theorized. “To hell with this wedding, this occasion...nothing could be more important than pounding you until I flood that little pussy...until your insides are fucking soaked.”

It was less a punishment than an offer, but it was the sort that Gemma wouldn’t be able to resist.

Whether the reality, or the playful tease that came along with their roles, if Hark said that he wanted to breed her, Gemma was a gleefully willing participant, and just as expected, her inner walls shuddered with the onset of her first orgasm- the first of many more to come before the night was over- but for all of her efforts, Hark was able to resist that delicious, uneven pressure.

Controlling the pace, he held still inside of her and rode out the wave, wincing behind his capture and saving his breath for the final stretch.

“Nmn...mnnnf... no, no no no! Pleeeeease don’t stop now!” Gemma knew she’d be punished that much worse for spitting out the gag, but in the middle of her release, she needed that extra movement from Hark, and simply asking him would never bend him to her whims. “I’ll do anything, Hark...a-anything...just keep going!”

She knew better than to demand anything of him, either, but in the throes of passion, she lost herself.

A moment later, feeling a new snap , she lost her brassier- Hark was a man of his word- but as her breasts fell free of their cups, he caught one with a paw, and hugged his other arm under both of her legs, bringing them together tighter.

Forcing her inner walls to clench on his shaft anew, he picked right back up where he left off and poured it on, thrusting deeper and faster on each thrust to follow.

“Anything?” he asked, but new desperation found his voice as he worked himself into a frenzy, pounding the bun with such force that her flesh rippled at the meeting with his hips. “Dangerous words, little one...”

“I...s-said... anything!”

Seed was already coursing up through Hark’s shaft as he pounded his way through layer after layer of bliss, feeling Gemma work herself into a second, stronger orgasm as he approached his first.

“I always knew you’d end up being a breeding bun for me,” he claimed, his teeth coming together in a furious grit as the first, warm gush of cum erupted from the tip of his cock, flooding all the way up the soaking treasure of her depths in an instant. “You said anything...n-now you’re gonna take this whole...f-fucking...load... rnnnf!”

His arm created bondage around the backsides of her legs, his palm squeezed tight at her breasts as he worked out as much of his lustful energy as he could, and all the while, Gemma was helpless to do anything but take pump after pump of thick, virile seed, flooding her insides until her womb was satisfied...and rapid, uneven thrusts allowed streaks of that same mess to spill right back down, dripping into a puddle on the concrete floor.

“And if this first load doesn’t take...j-just you wait,” Hark warned her. “Wait and see how I decide to punish you next...”

That threat was more fluff- a bit of their post-coital bliss- than anything else...but with time to think it over, Gemma knew that Hark would come up with a way to make her beg for mercy again.

She was looking forward to the long, leaking walk back to their hotel room, and seeing just how much the ram really had left to give.