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Oh holy shit ow, this guy is strong! I mean, he's a full grown Arcanine, so that's kind-of saying water is wet, but what would go through your head with nearly 250 pounds of giant firedog pinning you to a brick wall by the throat?

"I think maybe you owe me an apology," oh mother, he's growling and it's like gravel and silk in my-ngh! Please don't feel the erection, please don't feel the erection, please don't feel the - "and it looks like maybe you don't hate that idea, little Vulp." - crap. He gives me this malicious fucking grin as he slides his thigh up between my kicking feet and pins my traitorous dick to my leg and oh lord Arceus he's so warm.

... I should probably back up. Give you a little context here. I'm a bit of an... oddity, I guess is the word. We'll get back to that, but my mom and dad? Perfectly mundane - if you like the word - fire types. My older brother? Perfectly mundane fire type. Ninetales all, at this point at least. Me? I'm a damn ice type and it confused every single doctor in the ward.

Course it's not as 'rare' as it would seem, it's a little peculiar for the region. Sure, mom and dad tried to treat me the same as they treated my brother, but the differences kept getting brought front-and-centre as I grew up. First it was special climate controls for the house, so they didn't give me heat-stroke and also so they didn't get pneumonia. Then it was at school; we lived in the 'fire quarter', the borough known officially as Burnside. It's where the more aggressive types trended, and I wasn't exactly the most aggressive. While I was buried in a book or swimming or some other relatively soothing activity, my older brother was doing martial arts or track or - hilariously enough - hockey. He'd get in fights at school, and I'd get beat up. Course, mostly he was getting in fights to keep me from being beat up, siblings gotta stick together right? Well, when he went off to university the next town over - hockey scholarship, if you can believe it. Think 'Ninetales on Ice' but with more cross-checking - I still had three years of high-school to get through, and eventually my folks were just fed up with me not conforming to their idea of what a 'dutiful son' should be.

It started simple with not coming home on time - which I guess dick move on my part. They probably thought I was out doing the hard drugs that even they didn't do. Eventually it ended up with more elaborate things like late-night 'studying' at friends' houses - think beer and skinny-dipping. One time I actually came home in just my underwear - it was a warm day, mom! It's not like when I was six and ran through the school naked. Also because it was hot out, don't judge me.

Of course it helped that I'd never had any 'girlfriends', and that I hadn't 'earned the right' to evolve according to my dad - part of that comes down to my not having a job. I was a black Mareep, figuratively speaking of course, so when I got caught making out with the school's senior rugby captain - that Pyroar's hair was fucking amazing, by the way - let's just say that I found myself on the wrong end of an expulsion. My parents couldn't understand, of course. My grades were always above board, and even if I got in a lot of fights it always came out that I was the victim. Of course, then they found out that Pyroar's name was Alex ander. Suddenly my 'being a victim' clicked for them, like they couldn't believe their kid wasn't 'breeding stock' so to speak. After that I was on the street, and for the first time in two-ish decades-ish I didn't know where my next meal was going to come from. What I did know is that I was small, and scrappy. Two weeks, and several hungry nights and fistfights later, and I was a pretty good pickpocket.

To be honest, I kinda hoped I'd get caught and thrown in lockup. At the very least I'd be out of the street and away from all of the violent murder-rapists that my mother always warned me were lurking in every dark alley. I'm surprised I got by as long as I did, but tonight? Tonight went bad fast.

I had my hood pulled up tight. My brother got me this Growlithe printed hoodie when I was sixteen, said it would help 'break the ice' and I'll be honest that's probably the most adorable he's ever been with a pun. It also was one of the only things I owned anymore, and was probably a contributing factor in my not getting catcalled or mistaken for a girl in the middle of the night. It also served as a pretty effective camouflage, if you looked at me from behind. In the dark.

Anyway, the night was pretty cold, for November. So, you know, almost zero degrees-ish? Didn't really bother me any, but in this part of town that's the sort of thing that empties the streets. Was hoping it'd slow my mark down a little, so when I bumped him - and got a nose full of sweaty Arcanine; guy must have just been working out or getting out of the factory for the night - I didn't expect him to realize immediately that his wallet was missing. I heard a "Hey!" and then footsteps so I took off as fast as I could, turned down an alley, and found myself cornered by this 250 pound firedog. So I did the first thing I thought of, and acted indignant.

"The fuck, man? What'd I do to you?" I yelled, hoping he'd back down at least a little, or second-guess whether I really stole his wallet. Smug bastard just smirked and held his hands at his sides, toward me in a sort of 'calm the fuck down' gesture.

"Listen, kid. I just want my wallet back. I know you've got it-" he started, but testosterone and adrenaline were never really on my side and in a fit of panic I spit a plume of frost at his chest and his smile faded a little.

The terrifying part was, he just looked down at his frosted up chestfur and - holy shit that's when I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. Not exactly unusual but at this time of year? Anyway, he just looked at it, sighed, and I saw the frost just kinda fade away a few seconds before a wave of heat blew off him and drifted gently through the alleyway.

He just continued walking forward, this time with his fists at his sides and a measure more anger in his tone. "How about you don't do that again, hm? Now I'm perfectly fine being reasonable here but-" this time I threw it at the ground in front of him. I guess I was hoping he'd trip, but there's a reason I got beat up a lot in school and most of it is that I swam instead of doing Jiu-maga or whatever my lovable idiot brother was doing.

He didn't even stop this time just melting the ice as he walked through it, his shoes rippling the puddle at his feet as he shook his head. "Or maybe you'd like it if I got Jenny involved?" he spat, and even from a few feet away I could feel his hot breath on my face. Goddamn fire types, cause now I was sweating from more than just being cornered.

I knew I was caught, of course. In my head I'm thinking maybe he'll just get me thrown in the local station for the night and that'd be that, but with the way he was glaring I was pretty sure he was thinking in a more beat me up kind of way. So I relax my shoulders, and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as I reach back and tug his wallet out of the back pocket of my ratty old jeans. I just pitch it across at his feet - into the puddle because obviously I don't know what's good for me, but he just scoops it up like it's nothing.

Fishing through it to make sure everything's there, he eyeballs me again and shakes his head. "I mean, if you're just hungry you could have tried asking, man. Fifty bucks, I could have lived without, but my Franks card? Dinner on me?" he looked almost betrayed, and I started to get that run-away feeling again.

Sidling along the wall, I kept him in my sights as I tried to angle myself out of the alleyway. "Listen, dude. I gave you back your wallet. You losing some money or a - I'm guessing sandwich card? Not my problem. Pretty sure we're square so why don't you just step aside and-" he had me by the wrist before I even got halfway past him, and in moments had me pinned to the wall by my neck with that burning hot hand and those massive fingers. Tugging against his grip, I kick and struggle to get huffs of air. This close, that sweaty stink basically permeates the air as he leans in close and almost growls in my face.

"We are so far from done, boy. Look at you, little ice type. Either I get my money back, or we're gonna have problems." the menace in his voice has me melting a little. Or maybe that was the heat surrounding him. Either way, one of my hands shoots to my hoodie's pocket and I toss a ten and a pair of twenties, and his almost full Frank's card to the wet concrete.

Sighing, and shaking his head, he leans down while I'm still stuck to the wall by my neck. He picks up the bills, gives them a bit of a wipe on his pant leg and stuffs them in a pocket - thank you polymer bank notes - but as he fishes the paper club card out of the puddle it basically falls apart in his hand. He grumbles some and gets back up to his full height, meets my eyes with a disapproving glare, and leans back in.

"Now, I think maybe you owe me an apology," and oh fuck me we're back at the top now. My jeans are so damn tight right now as this hulking adonis basically dry-humps me against his leg, and I whimper some as he relaxes his grip around my throat. "and it looks like maybe you don't hate that idea, little Vulp." he grins as his other hand comes up and brushes my hood down off my head.

I fucking hate my hair, by the way. No matter how many times I try to brush it out or flatten it, the curly little poof of white hair is more resilient than a steel type. So when he takes down the hood and my hair poofs up on top, he snickers a little and my cheeks are redder than he is. He's got me balanced on my balls, with a meaty hand around my throat and I'm embarrassed about my hair, so you know, as first dates go this is a three, maybe four out of ten.

I writhe in his hands as he strokes down my chest, undoing my hoodie so he can touch my chilly fur and he's basically purring - impressive for a dog, I guess? - before his fingers grip my fly and tug. My jeans peel away and slide off my legs as he lets me dangle freely for a moment, before pinning me back up with my arms against my chest. His jeans slide down off his ass, but he keeps them over his knees as he prods my balls with a thick slab of meat, and oh my lord he's huge. I'm dripping like a leaky faucet at how hot - literally and figuratively - this is, whimpering a little as his free fingers wrap around me.

Honestly? That Pyroar I mentioned before was my first even vaguely sexual experience, so you can imagine my reaction when his fingers find my knot and squeeze. I'm cumming before I realize I should be embarrassed, and he just chuckles and paints his dick in it. I whimper and squirm, trying to get out of that crushing, fiery grip, but he just jerks until I feel like I've got nothing to give. He almost cackles, that's how evil the laugh sounds. "That'll work, cutie." he growls in my ear, and I relax in his arms again as his musk overshadows my own again. He's got me stomach-on to the wall now, and with my dick dangling down between my legs - pried open with his knees - he settles his meatus into the crook of my tail. Until he starts thrusting, I'm barely cogent enough to think, but as that tapered head splits my cheeks apart I instinctively clamp down around him and my claws gouge holes into the wall. He's about to stuff me with what feels like a baseball bat, and the fact he's got himself lubed up with my own milked out seed is basically a recurring wet dream that has me hardening against the wall already.

The head is easily as thick as my wrist, and he's just steadily spearing into me inch by blazing hot inch, licking the back of my head as my tails twitch from the violation. The pain is intense, and already I feel like I'm on the verge of passing out from his heat, when my whole world is turned on it's head. With his head pressed against my prostate, jumping with his heartbeat to hammer on that little button in some perverted Morse code, I spasm around him and shiver in a ghost of the pleasure I can feel building behind my balls.

With a cruel steadiness, he saws that monster back and forth, grinding that head against me again and again. Slowly he feeds more of that fat pole into me, and before I realize I have no idea how long I've been in this alley, he's already got more than half of that too-large member buried under my surely crushingly tight tail. The receding pain makes me very aware of the fact that I'm going to end my night knotted on this stranger's cock, and I must be really fucked up because that thought sends a twinge of pleasure through my dick, spattering down the wall as a trail of sticky, traitorous precum.

Somewhere in all of this my feet have found his knees - bare knees I might add, his pants must have fallen down - and I'm basically supporting myself as his thick thumbs rub just below my tail and just below my adams apple, feeling out every spasm as he stretches out my rear and acutely aware of every pleasured groan that passes through my throat. Suddenly that log jams in a lot deeper, and I can feel his knot knocking on my backdoor as I feel his chest rumbling against my back. I don't hear his moaning though, over the sound of my second screaming climax ripping a loud, effeminate roar out of me. He just rolls his hips through my wringing muscles as his nose dips into my right ear, the sound of him chuckling has me squirming even more as the root of his tree-trunk of a dick starts to pry me open.

"Ah! P-please!" I pant, absolutely intending to beg for mercy at this point. He has me wrapped around nearly two feet of pulsing, drooling Arcanine and I'm spent and sore and exhausted. At this point I just want to crawl back to my proverbial cardboard box. He steadies his thrusting though, hammering against my prostate as he fills my head with another dark chuckle.

"Don't worry, pup. I'll get it in there soon..." he teases, his paw on my chest sliding down to rub my belly and-oh Canada I can feel his hand squeeze around the head of his dick through my tummy. My eyes jerk open and, besides the line of frost on the wall beside my head - I told you, screaming orgasm - I can see that it's started to snow. But that's not what I want to see, and I try to push myself off of the wall so I can look down at my belly.

Of course, that has me pushing back against his pole, and he grips around my tails and throat to hold me still again. "I know you're eager, pup, that little dick of yours is harder than this Onix I know, but if you don't stop struggling this will just keep dragging on." he whispers in my ear, just before he tugs me upward and rolls me onto my shoulders on the cold, wet concrete.

Staring up at him now, I can see the bulge of my tummy disappear under my ribs and wonder incredulously how that could possibly even fit inside me as he starts to grunt and grind deeper. With my knees folded to the sides, I'm more exposed than ever, and every deep thrust has me panting like a needy bitch now. However he's done it, I suddenly have a burning need for that thick knot and I can't take waiting anymore. So again I beg, "Please! T-tie me! Fucking fill me!" I'm basically sobbing at this point, feeling dirty inside and out, my own self-image shattered into the sight of me servicing this one wonderful member with everything I have. My legs are around his waist now, pulling as I push up into each thrust and he scowls down at me and growls, my disobedience becoming his frustration, and that frustration leading to a few well-timed and particularly hard thrusts.

With a wet slurp and a dull ache, his knot is lodged behind my spasming tailstar as I shoot one last, pitiful rope over my own face. The rest of my orgasm is dry, but I wring around him as his own howl fills the air and has me suddenly worried about being caught. He's lost in pleasure though, as his dick twitches inside me, whipping me into a frenzy as scalding ropes of Arcanine jizz start filling my - admittedly very hungry - belly. I can feel myself swelling as each pulse is locked behind that knot, and my hands find my tummy as each pulse of rich seed bloats me out just a little more. I can feel every twitch under my fingers, and I groan every now and then at how full he's making me feel. Then, he meets my eyes again and has this look of absolute satisfaction on his face. I blush brightly and try to look away, but there's a hot, meaty tongue in my maw before I can react and I melt against the ground beneath him as he basically face-rapes me with his tongue.

Panting as he pulls away, he's got that same easy grin, and I'm suddenly worried again as he pulls me upright in his arms. With my legs around his back and his dick still twitching under my tail, I curl my own hands around his heavily muscled arms, letting out a startled squeak as he squeezes my bulging tummy against him. Once again I'm pinned to the wall, but this time it's so he can slobber all over my neck and face, and I shudder and hug his head tightly to make sure he doesn't pull away until I want him to - obviously I haven't got any control over that, but it's fun to dream. Between bouts of him sucking on my throat, he whispers into my ears.

"So... here's the deal." he pants softly, his knot tugging at my hole but gaining no ground as he tugs away a bit to look me in the eyes. "Pretty sure you loved that, and that was the best lay I've had in years. Seriously difficult to find a boy as stretchy as you are, and I really don't wanna give that up. So..." I meet his eyes expectantly, worst case scenario he wants me to whore myself out. If it's going to be like that every time he pays me for sex, I win twice every single time. In fact I'm already planning to agree when he kicks my metaphorical feet out from under me.

"How's about I give you a roof over your head." I just stare at him, dumbfounded as he - almost nervously I might add - sweetens the deal. "No rent, I wouldn't even make you buy food. All I want is a clean house and something to fuck when the need strikes." and that's me almost pissing myself with how much I like this idea already. I can't hold back an almost childish laugh at his offer, and immediately he's backpedalling.

"Or you can take that fifty, hell I've got seventy-five I can spare if you just want to pretend tonight never happened." he looks worried, like he's afraid I'll go to the cops and bust him for rape. Which, okay, if you told me this happened at the beginning of the night I might have - very realistically - believed you. Instead my legs wrap a little tighter around him and I whine a little into his chest as though I were weighing the options.

But come on. Free meals, no rent. Guy's probably got internet so it's not like I'd get bored when he's at work. All I have to do is ride his dick when he's horny... and clean the house I guess. But I mean, worst case for that is jizz-stained underwear and sweaty clothes and this guy smells like heaven right now. Lord knows I don't make much mess - oh mother that is a huge mess! A loud moan escapes before I can stifle it as his knot slips free and I can hear the spattering as his seed just drains out of me and over his balls, landing with some wet splats between his legs and thankfully clear of his expensive looking jeans. I clutch him tightly as I clench up, trying to contain the ridiculous amount of semen he's got pumped up inside me. Eventually my stomach stops shrinking, and I look merely chubby instead of in my third trimester as he keeps me held to his chest.

"I um..." I stammer, blushing hotly at how embarrassing that feeling was. My tails are sticky with his spunk, but I'm more worried about his thighs. I look down and blush. "No rent...?" I ask, and he snickers and licks my ear gently.

"No, pet. But you've gotta clean up after us." he chides. I sink down on my knees on the cold concrete, getting a close-up of spoogey Arcanine dick. Don't judge me, a home's a home, and having not eaten for a couple days it really was just spoogey Arcanine dick. Besides, and I know I already used this joke but, he's fucking hot! Literally and Figuratively.

---

So if you're reading this, you made it through and are curious. If you've been waiting for Sirius to update, I don't anticipate it updating soon. Work, and life, and a decided lack of desire have put it on the back burner while I figure out how to progress. I don't like the way the chapter I'm working on is going, but it's almost constantly in my mind so it might maybe update at some point. What we have here is a quick, raunchy story to satisfy some of my creative needs, and give you guys something to touch yourselves to. Congratulations!

I might write more for this. Don't hold your breath because I don't have a great track record, but this is definitely going to be much more of a filthy, trashy smut series than the more (attempted) cerebral stuff Sirius is supposed to deal with.

Leave a comment if you liked it, or a rating.