FSE

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It was getting harder and harder for Mint to say that she wasn't interested in the host of the party. Of course, she had been into him right from the start, and her body language and little smiles made it explicit, but she was playfully rebuffing him at every turn. When he would close in, wrapping an arm around her, she ducked away and slipped into the arms of another fellow, always with a coquettish glance back at the handsome, tall host. She enjoyed being a tease, and she had cookies to give out, too.

Halloween parties were almost always a cliche for Mint, but nobody minded her custom-made Sexy Girl Scout costume or the fact that she kept a fanny pack full of Thin Mints on her hip. Lechs hoping for sloppy kisses got mint cookies stuffed in their mouths instead, and surprisingly, most of them seemed okay with that.

She supposed maybe it was rude to evade the owner of the mansion when he was so obviously hungry for her. There were beautiful girls all over, and she held no doubts that he could have had any one of them. Presumably, they would have slept with him for the same reasons she wanted to - he was handsome and built, and undoubtedly had a galling amount of money. Mint was not a gold digger, but the idea that she could be one if she wanted was a fun ego boost.

Mint passed through the foyer, which was thick with bodies. The platform upstairs wasn't as crowded, so she strutted up the steps, her slim body slipping easily through the mingling crowd, all costumed, some more original than others. One heavy, clawed paw fell on her hip. She smiled and turned to see a tiger with smudged blue paint on his nose and an ascot around his neck.

"You smell nice," the tiger said, not quite purring. He was holding her up at the landing of the stairs. "Can I have one of those?"

The German Shepherd obliged, delicately offering a Thin Mint from her pinching fingers. "What's the matter?" she coyly asked. "Not enough Frosted Flakes?"

"Not all of us can pull off the Girl Scout costume," he said a moment before biting into his cookie. He left her then, going down while she went up.

She was looking half-heartedly for her friend, a vixen who claimed in just a coy enough way to know the famous singer hosting the party that Mint wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or not. The fact seemed unlikely, and as far as she was concerned, her and her friend probably only got in because they were beautiful women on the doorstep of somebody who had an unsubtle craving for lovely ladies.

The entire reason she wanted to find her friend was to tell her how much she had been teasing the guy. From what she knew, you didn't tease "Kocaine" Kahnso - not without getting some possibly unwanted dick, at least, so the fact that she was getting away with it was a cause for gossip and giggling. And knowing her friend, she was probably bubbly on punch and would be exceptionally receptive to a round of playful chatter.

Mint didn't find her black vixen friend, but she did eventually come across a hyena standing by the wayside. He had the young-but-aged face of a perpetual worrier, but he was grinning a nervous hyena rictus. It widened when he made eye contact with Mint.

"Um-! Um, hello, hi," stammered the hyena. "Hi."

"Hi." The German Shepherd smiled charmingly. Regarding the hyena like a potentially vicious dog, she offered him one of her cookies and said sweetly, "You don't look like you're in costume. Unless a t-shirt is what passes for a costume nowadays."

The hyena blinked. He started to blush. "I'm, you know, I work here. I live here. I live for Kahnso."

She popped up an eyebrow, with a lopsided smirk to match. "You live for him?"

"Work! I work for him," said the small, brown hyena with a groan. "God, I'm stupid." He took a look at the cookie, and then started to eat it.

"We-e-ell, if you're here working, maybe you can help me find somebody." She put her paws on her hips, tilting her head a few degrees. Her chocolate-colored ponytail swayed easily with her head. "If you don't mind, that is, mister...?"

He blushed again. "Y-you can call me Anthony."

"Anthony! That's cute!" Watching his blush grow redder and redder, Mint leaned down and the hyena looked into the depths of her cleavage. She knew he was looking. That was the entire point of a low-cut shirt. "Can I call you Tony?"

"No. No, I don't like Tony, b-but, you know-, but I like Anthony. Sorry." Fidgeting, wiping absently at crumbs on his shirt, he looked away from the girl's breasts. "Suh-, so, let's find your friend, I guess."

Mint told her who she was looking for - what she was, what her costume looked like. Anthony nodded and said, walking off, "This way. I-, your friend, I think she's in here... I saw her, I mean, I think she-."

"It's okay, Anthony," Mint said patiently, smiling. "Show me." Even though you being all tongue-tied is damn cute, she thought, believing the stammer was all for her.

Just from the look of the oak double doors, Mint understood that she was going somewhere off-limits to the rest of the party. Indeed, when the hyena opened them, making them glide in smoothly, she saw something she wasn't exactly ready for, but which didn't surprise her all that much.

"You dig a good knot, don't you, baby? You got that look." Kahnso's back heaved over the desk, black legs with white feet and blissfully splayed toes parted around his hips. He was grinding, bucking, rattling the heavy desk with every gesture.

Beneath, familiar to Mint's ears, came a lady's voice: "God, yeah... ooh my gawd, you're better than they all said, I'm getting there..."

Anthony, for all his fluster, seemed unfazed by the live sex show. He looked at Mint, touching her elbow tentatively to earn her gaze. "Is that your friend?" he whispered. She nodded.

"I heard that shit," Kahnso sharply said, and Mint's blood ran cold - but not as cold as Anthony's. The giant fox slowed to a stop, but the black and white vixen's paws pulled him down. Soft noises of kisses and licks cut through the air of the study.

"Don't stop, honey, please," she puffed. "You have me so damn close."

Kahnso grumbled. He nipped her bare and open neck, making her squeak. "I won't," he murmured. "I'm definitely wondering what the fuck my assistant wants, though."

"I-, uh, somebody is here-, that girl's friend was looking-, you see-..."

Mint watched Anthony wring his paws and listened to his stammering. She patted his head and gave him another cookie. "Milky, babe, it's me. Uh-, I'll just be waiting downstairs. Sorry."

"Hold up!" the rock singer snapped, looking suddenly over his shoulder. His red eyes appeared fractured by angry capillaries. They were severely drunk, tweaking eyes. "I know that fucking voice." He eased back from Milky, leaving her on the precipice of an orgasm. She whined and pawed at him, begging for him to finish up, but he swatted her away and grunted, "You're friends with this cocktease?"

Milky sat up, breasts heaving into place. She looked shamefully from her friend to the hyena, who was staring off at the wall and ready to die of embarrassment. "Oh-! Jeez, Mint... Jesus, you're the girl he was talking about?" she murmured, smiling contritely.

The German Shepherd blinked. She backpedaled and asked, smiling warily, "I-, I guess?" Eyes on Kahnso, she asked with a tone she hoped might take some of the frustration out of his red eyes, "What, um, whatcha been sayin' about me, handsome?"

Kahnso skulked closer to her, evading a final grab by Milky who huffed at the denial and reluctantly pulled her panties up to her soaked muff. Before Mint could back out through the door, Kahnso thrust Anthony through it then shoved it shut, slamming it hard enough to make the walls shake. Mint flinched. She smelled danger and tried to circle around to Milky, but Kahnso took her by the bicep. She screamed.

"I don't like being teased," snapped Kahnso, his clear enunciation adding unspeakable menace to his words. He loomed over Mint like a beast. His erection, wet with the vixen's juices, rubbed her olive skirt and left a smear on it. "Not by some strange bitch, and definitely not in my own house."

"Hey-! Hey, you take your mitts off her!" Milky warned, coming across the room still half-undressed. She had her bra and her shorts on, but the rest of her outfit - a soccer jersey from her university - was still on the floor. "Let her go, motherfucker!"

The dog knew the vapid, angry look in Kahnso's eyes, and she knew that it growing a little more glazed as Milky stood her ground was a very bad thing. She had seen the guards around the house and outside the front door. They were all in his pocket, and they wouldn't stop their boss from enjoying himself. "Milky-, Milky, listen," she pleaded, trying very hard not to cry. "You ought to go... just go and enjoy the party, all right?"

"Yeah. You should go, babe," Kahnso said, his voice but not countenance gaining some unnerving civility. He pushed the German Shepherd against the wall, rattling a framed platinum album over her head. "Me and your friend, we're gonna get acquainted. Put your tits away and fuck off outta my study."

Milky was glaring, looking like she might cry. She whined and picked up her jersey. "Don't you hurt her," she hissed impotently. Her fingers quivered on one of the doorknobs.

Calm but plain evil flashed in Kahnso's eyes. He pushed himself on Mint, his cock grinding on her midriff, but his head was turned and his eyes were on Milky. "Don't make threats you can't back up, bitch. You be good, run the fuck along, and I won't hurt your little girlfriend." He started groping Mint, squeezing her breasts hard enough that she gasped. Tears sprouted at the corners of her eyes. Pushing harder into her, Kahnso made the contents of the fanny pack crunch. "You still in here? Get the fuck out! You're not gonna be some empowered bitch hero - get out before I put your stupid ass in the hospital right next to your friend here."

The vixen left with tears streaking down her cheeks. She slammed the door at her back, brushing past Anthony who didn't dare try to calm her down and ran and hid in the hall bathroom, locking the door behind her. Looking at her phone, she wondered if the police would do anything to somebody like Kahnso.

Kahnso squeezed Mint's ass through the olive skirt. His fingers were giant, clumsy things driven by hateful lust and a drunken personality. His head dipped low and he put his muzzle against hers, a gesture which seemed almost affectionate, but he used the closeness to glare into her eyes. "Your friend stupid enough to try and call 911 on me?"

"She wouldn't. She won't," Mint said urgently, grabbing his biceps with intent to throw his arms off, but then she felt as well as she saw how horrendously dense and muscular he was. Trying to move Kahnso was like trying to push a truck with four flat tires. It defied all logic to her that something so big could exist without collapsing on itself, and she found herself thinking that his savage red eyes and beastly fangs and wild, long black hair made him look not like a popular singer, but a barbarian ten seconds away from clubbing dinner.

The fox, with just the lack of smoothness Mint would have expected, pulled up the skirt. It was like he wanted to pull it off of her but wasn't willing to trifle with the shirt first. She felt a rip in the fabric and grabbed his wrists on reflex, not thinking of how monstrous he was until she failed to move him. "No, quit, you're gonna rip it," she said feebly, her voice breaking. "I sewed this myself, please let me take it off first."

"It looks like shit anyway," Kahnso said indifferently. "What kind of kiddy-fucker wants to bone a Girl Scout, anyway?" He pulled apart on the skirt, wrenching the fabric taut until the seam inside ripped free and it came loose like a hand towel in his grip, pleating notwithstanding. He threw it to the side where it draped tiredly over the arm of his chair. "And what's this fucking thing? This where you keep those gross-ass cookies?"

"You liked them earlier," Mint plaintively said, reaching for the buckle on the fanny pack. She managed to undo it before the singer could rip that off of her too. Shattered cookies rattled inside of it like pieces of cereal. Mint dropped it on the floor and tried to pull to the side, to squirm away from the wall Kahnso had her pinned against. "For god's sake, don't rape me, please..."

Kahnso gyrated held Mint fast and gyrated into her, his wet cock smearing across her emerald-green panties obscenely. Even under such dire circumstances, the pressure on her swollen canine muff made the German Shepherd quiver, but it was mild and short-lived pleasure, hardly more than a twinge. She tried to push on his chest, but found she was only pushing herself back. "Do you get get a kick out of doing this?" she asked shakily. She managed a hint more defiance when she asked him, "Does it make you extra hard or something?"

"You tell me, sugartits," Kahnso said, and laughed at his own incredible sense of wit and timing. He reached down to Mint's ass again and squeezed the fine round cheeks through her panties. His claws were short, but his grip persistent, and she felt the hard nubs of his claws pushing into her skin like acorns on a picnic table seat. "Your friend Creamy or whatever, she your girlfriend? You two fuck?"

"We don't, no," Mint answered, lying and feeling pretty good about it. She knew admitting it to Kahnso would just rile him up. She thought that he wouldn't be so much turned on by the thought of lesbian antics between them as delighted by the opportunity to call her a whore for it.

The singer stroked up her back, his fingers feeling along her spine with such horrid creepiness that she found it easy to imagine tarantulas in their place. She whined, pushing herself into the wall to try and mash his fingers against it but he was just as strong and implacable as ever. He gripped the back of her uniform, the shirt sewed just as lovingly by hand as the trashed skirt, and he tried to gain purchase with his claws.

Feeling his digits scraping her back and thinking he must be trying to tear the shirt off, Mint bleated, "It pulls off, you asshole! You don't have to rip my clothes off of me!"

Kahnso stopped sharply, going so still that Mint flinched in fear, actually pressing against his chest for a moment. A horrible rictus fixed Kahnso's face and he grabbed her shoulders, jerking her to the side and spurring a scream from her lips. Her fanny pack crunched under her foot in the pointless scramble for balance and she tumbled to the hardwood floor, missing the Persian rug by a foot.

A bruise yowled on the dog's hip. She got up to shaking legs with tears in her eyes. Down but not out, she thought, the phrase distinct amid a sea of warnings that she must escape from this monster, that to let him get close again would certainly be the end of poor Mint the Sexy Girl Scout.

Mint lunged for the oak doors but stumbled like a newborn gazelle. She was awed by the amount of terror she felt: she had been in tight spots, her and Milky both, but this was real in a way no other situation had ever been. The police were not a phone call away here and there were no strong, handsome men she could run to for help if that go-getter bitch moxie of Milky's really didn't do anything for them. Kahnso was the strong, handsome man on premises, and he looked more like he was about to eat her than fuck her.

The German Shepherd barked her knee on the floor, cried out, lunged to her feet again. She ran to the doors and heard Kahnso stomping after her now, his pace glacial. That's right, stomp this way, I bet you're so goddamn drunk you can't even run, you son of a bitch, thought Mint. She braked herself and smashed into the door anyway, making it rattle solemnly on its hinges. She grabbed one of the brass handles and pulled hard.

In went the door, Mint with it, and she saw a fleeting glimpse of freedom. There were no goons, no guests, no Anthony, and she slipped through the gap, not caring that her skirt was gone and her uniform all rumpled.

Mint suddenly felt a powerful shove from behind which wasn't exactly Kahnso, but caused by him. The oak door smashed her, hundreds of pounds of solid wood crushing her against its twin, and she tried to cry out. What she made instead was a strangled, wet noise. Foamy drool caked at the corners of her mouth as though she had gone rabid. She thought for sure that she was dying, and in her mind there was no question about it. Kahnso was going to murder her for trying to get away.

He yanked back the door and dragged her in by the arm. She staggered on legs which hardly worked and fell on her ass with a bump so sharp her teeth gnashed. A second later, two of the singer's well-dressed goons appeared in the hall. Kahnso told them to guard the door.

"He's gonna kill me," Mint wanted to scream at them, but the words came out hoarse and lame. She leaned forward until she fell over, landing on her elbows, intending to crawl out of the room. A blossom of pain spread through her belly and around her flank and she clutched at herself, braying a deeply wounded sound.

With the door shut at his back, Kahnso sauntered back to Mint, grinning as wide as he possibly could without splitting his face in half. A lust for power and pussy alike cut through the glaze of inebriation and made his gaze acute. He squatted down, his fat balls hanging like the perfect target for an uppercut, but Mint was out of defiance.

"C'mon, bitch, did you really think I'd let you get out like that? Gotta admit, though, you playin' doorstopper was pretty funny... break any ribs?"

"I can't tell," Mint whimpered.

"Probably not. You're a pretty tough-looking girl. Bet you're just all bruised up." He rubbed a tit through her shirt and found her to be so defeated that she didn't resist the touch. "Ever fall off a stage? I broke my collar bone and cracked two vertebrae. You'll live, cunt."

Kahnso descended on her, dropping to one knee, then the other. He rolled her onto her back and grabbed at the shirt, looking like he might tear it clean off, but he thoughtfully popped the buttons.

Mint, who felt like a sledgehammer had been taken to her, could still spot the change in his demeanor. Kahnso had every ounce of power he could wring from the situation, and now he was being gentle.

He opened her shirt, baring full breasts in a matching emerald bra. He clicked his tongue. "Nice jugs, bitch... bigger than your girlfriend's." He paused, then started to snicker. "Got milk for those cookies?"

Mint didn't answer him. She had milk when she was pregnant, but she didn't think the singer would care much to hear that. "Please don't kill me. I'm sorry I tried to run away."

As if it assuaged all her worries, Kahnso smiled and said, "I'm not gonna kill you. Christ." He reached under her and popped off her bra with an adept tweak. He threw that aside, letting it land where it may, and then leaned low enough that he could, and did, drag his tongue across a breast. Her nipples were pierced with green barbells and taut with excitement, baleful though it was. The girl's lack of a reaction was little deterrent to the rapist. "Your friend's kind of a bitch, you know that? She wouldn't even go down on me. At least she didn't tease me, like you."

"I'm sorry," Mint said in her tiny, frightened voice. The awful reality of her situation was that, with as much pain as she was in and as large as the fear of further pain loomed, Mint was genuinely remorseful for defying the singer.

Instead of a snide, easy confirmation that Mint was indeed sorry, Kahnso silently worked his way down her body. He hooked his fingers into her panties and tugged them down, and his immediate reaction was an amused snort. "What's this thing? Is this pussy?"

Mint had heard such remarks before. Looking at the vaulted ceiling of Kahnso's study, she answered blandly, "Yeah. It's just a... thing in my family, I guess. I'm more canine than most girls."

"I've heard about these before," Kahnso said as if speaking about a dangerous trap. "I'm gonna fuck it anyway."

He tugged her panties the rest of the way down as casually as an afterthought and straddled her legs which were pursed in reaction to the dulling throb in her belly and not defiance of Kahnso. He said regardless, but gently, "Nuh-uh. Show me that weird pussy."

Mint did as she was told, finding the mere gesture of spreading her legs to be incredibly painful. It was like everything was connected in her belly, and the slightest motion could trigger a new rush of pain in her black-and-blue abdomen. She found herself grimacing to hold back tears.

"That's good, just like that," Kahnso purred. "Looks like I'm not gonna have to, y'know, door you again." He laughed and gave her cheek a smooch. She thought about how hard she could have bitten him. "Nah, but really... hold on a second."

The fox stood up and Mint closed her thighs again. She rolled lamely onto her side, finding the least objection there. "You don't have to do this to me. If-, if you waited until I felt better, we could start over, and I wouldn't tease you. I swear I wouldn't."

Kahnso rummaged in his desk. Mint heard pill bottles rattling, heavy objects sliding in the drawers, sheaves of paper rustling. Mint didn't know Kahnso kept a loaded gun in the desk, but it wouldn't have surprised her in the least.

He came back with an orange, plastic bottle in his fingers. White oval tablets clattered inside. There was no label on the bottle, but sticky residue where there had once been one. As if he hadn't heard her plea, he helped her to her feet, and even walked her to the sofa, patiently guiding her on her shaky way. "Here," he said, pushing the bottle in her palm. "Get a couple of those out. Lemme see if I got something to drink around here."

And remember, Mint, never take candy from strangers, the dog thought as she fumbled with the child-safety lid. She got it open and shook two odorless tablets into her palm. "What are these things?" she asked, looking over the bottle which offered no clues.

The fox came back to her again with a bottle of water, room-temperature but unopened. He watched as Mint tellingly gulped the pills without waiting for her answer. He sneered. "They coulda been rat poison for all you know," he said in an appallingly blithe tone. "Or maybe they're just Tic-Tacs."

"Look, quit fucking with me, okay?" Mint snapped, hugging her gut. She dropped the bottle in his naked lap.

"Fine." He put it on the end table and muttered, "Angsty bitch."

Kahnso let the girl stew a few moments, then he said, "Painkillers, prescription stuff. You'll feel all right in a little while." His arm snaked around her back, fingers clutching her hip. "You'll be lucky if you don't pass out, honestly."

"Thank you, I guess," the German Shepherd uttered, leaning forward. "I-I guess let's get this over with."

"You don't wanna wait until it kicks in? Who am I kidding, you just want to get this over with, right?"

"Basically." She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. "I always knew some guys were just-, just evil, I guess. But..."

The singer smiled. He wiggled his fingers between her thighs and curiously knuckled the lips of her fat, dark vulva. "Never thought you'd end up alone with someone like me? Life's a bitch, honey. I could've had you in six or seven different trash bags by now. Be grateful for that."

Mint muttered some small acknowledgment, not sounding nor feeling very grateful or angry. She had no frame of reference for the high, but the opiates had already begun to numb her. The pain was slow to fade, but her mental state was growing very dull. "Can we just do this already? Please?"

Kahnso was quick to oblige, to his credit. He shoved Mint over with none of his short-lived thoughtfulness, and then he forced her onto her stomach with sharp pulls on her arms as though she were a piece of stubborn machinery. What followed was devoid of grace and performed with no warning: Kahnso notched his terrible, red cock into the lips of her spade and parted her with a brutal forward shove. Mint felt a harsh twinge of pain in her box and then her belly, the Vicodin dulling but not eliminating this pain. She whimpered, but the sound had more to do with the situation than the discomfort.

"Oh, gawd, that dog-box feels pretty fuckin' good," said Kahnso, his grin toothy. He shoved his saber fangs into the back of her neck and exhaled, hitting Mint with the brunt of his possessiveness. "You live around here, bitch? You live near here?" As he pushed her for an answer, he bucked. He was not bottoming out in her, not yet, but reaming her steadily open. His cock's pointed head had not yet begun to nudge her cervix but she felt it inching unmistakably closer.

"Nuh-, no," Mint said, weeping. "I'm on a-, it's a vacation, it's-, it's something Milky took me on, to see Hollywood... I don't live near here..."

The muscular singer nosed against Mint's long, dark hair and kissed the nape of her neck. She expected a bite, bracing for one, but he was gentle. The bulk of his knot kissed up against her vulva and caused the spongy flesh to compress. That was not painful, but Kahnso's cock tickled her cervix and made her yelp in shock and agony.

"Christ. You can get an apartment out here. I'll pay for it." He slopped his tongue around her neck, demonstrating it to be so long as to wrap more than halfway around before he drew it back. It reminded Mint of docile, domesticated snakes she had held; a creepy, horrible feeling she never wished to experience again. "Even your dumbass friend if she wants to stick around out here... yeah, wouldn't you dig on that, baby? Live around here by me? Feels like your muff's just about made for me, babe."

Mint supposed the idiot had a point there, but only in the most basic sense; of course his knotted cock was perfect for her plump spade, the agonizing disparity in sizes notwithstanding. She voiced this concern shakily when she said, "You're too big, it's hurting me... please, Kahnso, please. It's gonna kill me."

"Not a peep about my generosity, huh?" Kahnso nosed along her crown and nipped the very edge of an ear, making it flick. "Shoulda known you were just after my painkillers."

Kahnso was slow and brutish, fucking Mint not with gyrations but clumsy bucks of his hips. The point of his cock stabbed at her cervix now, her vulva deforming further still beneath the bulk of the knot, soon to gulp around it for the tie Mint was dreading. She pawed the armrest of the sofa, feeling along the seam of the upholstery lamely, looking for any distraction she could possibly find. "Oh, god," she bleated, feeling very, very tired from the Vicodin but acutely aware of how fucked she was. "Oh, god... you have to pull out, Kahnso, please."

The singer snickered against her head, causing the sound to reverberate in her skull like a rumble of thunder. "Oh, shit," he said, pausing to huff for breath. "We got us a slut here. You gonna get knocked-up?"

A long, nearly feral whine whistled out of Mint's throat. She wiped haphazardly at the tears in her eyes. "I don't take birth control, it makes me kinda-, I get chubby when I'm on it so I don't take it. Please, for god's sake!"

Kahnso's body was shuddering the way a muscle does when overtaxed, but his breathing was loping and healthy. He laughed with sadistic glee, the sound not as much of an evil laugh as Mint imagined from movies, but sinister all the same. "You're gonna get really chubby now, you vain bitch. Fu-u-uck, you're the gift that keeps on giving, honey... first you show up with this weird-looking cunt, you get yourself stuck in a fucking door," he breathlessly cackled, "and now you tell me you're gonna get pregnant? This is the most fun I've had in years, sweetheart."

Mint squirmed, beginning to pull away, but Kahnso grabbed her bicep and squeezed down. A bruise started to form but she was so far-gone in the fog of the Vicodin that she didn't notice. What she was very much aware of was the fact that she was about to be an unwilling sperm recipient, and that Kahnso's cock was going to utterly gouge her once it was buried.

The rockstar panted, blowing into Mint's scalp and ears bestially, his nostrils flaring, his tongue hanging slack and oozing drool in her hair. He mashed the knot against her, pounding it like driving a stake into the earth. Her cunt throbbed with sex and pain, bruised but built for exactly this kind of punishment, yet when the knot socked home and her spade swallowed it, she squealed in mind-bending pain. Kahnso's cock had not pierced her cervix, but it had been sharply jabbed.

Kahnso was good at ignoring the painful cries of his partners, though the abject noises Mint made titillated him more than a lover's earnest moans ever could. He muttered to her how she was his, that her body was perfect and tight and how it belonged to him, every inch of it.

His climax was a foregone conclusion yet still an unwanted shock to Mint whom yelped when his murderously oversized cock jetted into her, pumping her full of virile coke-fueled demon seed. A fox was not far removed from a dog, especially not a dog whom had had more than a few pregnancies over the years, and she pressed her muzzle shamefully into the couch with the knowledge that she was going to bear this singer's child whether she liked it or not.

"Good god. God damn. That was a good nut." Kahnso licked her head through her hair, not minding the loose strands his tongue collected. He kissed down her neck and nibbled on her shoulder, then paused to pluck a few hairs off his tongue. "Here, c'mon. Sit up with me."

Mint didn't like being manhandled then anymore than before, but she was stoned against her will and tied with Kahnso. She let him embrace her and moved with him, settling into his lap. She cried harder, still only weeping, as her own weight pushed his cock further into her cervix. "I want to leave. Please."

"Sure. Let things run their course here, baby." He petted her belly, cupped a breast. His other paw grabbed for the pill bottle. "Here. Take a couple more. You'll be flying so high, nothing's gonna matter."

Under different circumstances, Mint would have done no such thing. But under those circumstances, she wouldn't have taken the first two, and she wouldn't have been inseminated by a rapist, either. She took the offered pills, swallowing two more dry, and rested against Kahnso as if for comfort. More galling than the rape was the genuine care and warmth he showed her then.