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The sky was dark, that morning. I remember walking through my room above the book bindery, carefully locking my windows for the coming storm. There wasn't much to protect from the rain, just a few small tomes that I had collected. The useless thoughts of nobles, discarded due to some imperfection or another in the binding process. I never read them, but I hated to throw them away. Someone, someday, might have wanted them.

I strapped on my black tunic, grabbed a small piece of bread off my desk and trudged down the creaky stairs. "Morning, Master." I mumbled to the old myopic dog eyeing me from behind his workbench.

"Good morning, young Terranus." he responded cooly, his fingers weaving thread through delicate pages with the skill I could only dream of achieving one day. "Late to wake up as usual, I see?"

"It is Saturday, Master. Nobody comes to have books bound on Saturday."

"And yet, there they are!" he pointed at a stack of pages, tied together with twine, sitting on a stool by the shop entrance. "Nobleman Corbal wishes his daughter's first collection of poetry to be bound by Tuesday. I thought you would be a perfect match for the job."

I grumbled, hooking a finger into the twine and tearing another bit of bread off in my muzzle. "You promised I could take the afternoon off today, Master." I reminded as I sat across from him at the workbench, taking my time to undo the knotted twine keeping the pages together.

"If you intend to become a journeyman before your 18th year, you have to work harder than you do, young pup." The dog growled. "I don't want you here your entire life, you know!"

I had no intention of being there my entire life. I had, however, planned to be there another few months before moving on to make my living. Or, at least to be there until that afternoon when the town Faire began.

It was the week after Harvest Moon and the farms were barren in preparation for the coming winter. The moon had granted us plentiful crops and the Faire would have celebrated its generosity. The canine races were a superstitious people. I was taught from birth that the moon grants our wishes and punishes our wicked. It was by its blessing that we would have survived the winter. To be more accurate, it was by its wrath that we didn't.

I was sitting across from my Master, carefully stacking the brittle pages of poetry and cutting them to size when my black ears pricked up to the distant sound of ringing bells. Pausing to look up, I saw the old dog's friendly muzzle turn stern. "What is it? What are those bells?"

"They shouldn't be ringing." He answered, dropping his tools on the table and rising to his feet. "They come from the watchtowers and they haven't rang for decades."

I rose to follow my Master as he hobbled out of the shop with alarming speed. Never in my eight years as his apprentice had I seen him move so quickly. "What does it mean, Master?" I called after him, catching him as he tripped over a stray stone outside.

I found out soon enough. By noon, the ringing of the watchtower bells had been quelled. Within the hour, the sounds of swords and shields clashing were loud and clear beyond the town gates. Black smoke joined the dark clouds above our small town as the elders worried and the youths panicked. I had never known of war, though I had seen a knight before. We barricaded the town walls as best we could, the old gates creaking shut and huge wooden planks layered behind them to stave off the attack.

I knelt in the town square with a few other frightened canines, the rain beating down on my muzzle and ears. The Faire never had a chance to start. The walls didn't hold long. The battle was over and we had lost...it only took an hour for the invading forces to bring down what meager defenses the peasants could erect.

The invading force advanced upon us, large and frightful creatures that I had only heard of in cautionary tales. "Behave, or it's to the barbarians with you!" I shivered in remembrance, just as one of the large felines stepped in front of me. Looking up at the creature, easily twice my size, I prayed I wasn't one of the wicked that brought this misfortune upon us. The creature's white fur was marred only by streaks of black stripes and blood from the recent battle. Its cool blue eyes regarded me carefully, though I couldn't meet its gaze. I only stared at the huge paws digging into the mud.

The barbarians were always a threat to the farmers of the hinterlands, but I had never seen one. I was a book binder, after all, and had no reason to ever leave the town. Looking at this one reminded me of why I never did. His massive, muscular frame was clothed only in a worn leather loincloth hanging loosely from his hips. Slung over his shoulder was an equally massive axe, still dripping with gore from the soldiers he had slaughtered. He could have crushed my head under those feet.

Glancing around to the others being gathered into the square, I wondered who had survived. Rooftops were ablaze and stifled screams could still be heard. We huddled together for warmth now as the rain soaked our clothing. I counted almost twenty of us now, with only five felines to guard us. Perhaps, if I were brave, I would have led a charge to overwhelm them. But the brave were already dead. It was only the meek who were gathered with me.

Claws dug into the scruff of my neck and lifted me off of my feet. I watched as the feline raised me to eye level. It seemed effortless, to him, as I dangled helplessly above the ground. "Please..." I managed to speak, "...don't hurt us..."

The feline let out a dark, guttural sound. I supposed it was a laugh, as the others around him responded in a similar fashion. He spat some words at his comrades. The language was vulgar and unstructured. Of course it was, I mused. Structure only becomes important when you take the time to write things down.

I was tossed over his shoulder like a rag doll. I landed on my belly and yelped as the cat grabbed my tail to keep me balanced on his shoulder. I grabbed onto a tuft of white fur on his back as he trudged off with me, holding on for dear life as each step ground his shoulder blade into my belly.

"I don't...unf....suppose you under...oof...stand a word I'm saying." I growled back at him, watching the town square disappear behind me. It looked as though each of the cats were choosing their victims out of the group and carrying them away just as I was being carried. For what purpose, I didn't care to guess.

I yelped again as the back of my head smacked against a door frame and the cat ducked into the general store. The friendly old dog that ran the place was nowhere to be found. His wife, who I remember from my childhood as having baked the most wonderful apple pie, was also missing. As the cat kicked the door shut behind him, the only sounds inside the store was the gentle creaking of an open shutter and the many trinkets on the shelves settling back into place.

He discarded me onto the floor and I landed on my shoulder with a loud grunt. Timidly, I crawled onto my knees and began to massage the bruised flesh under my dark fur. "I don't know what you want with me," I stammered up at the cat, who seemed more interested in some of the items on the shelves than with me, "but you don't have to hurt me. I'm not a fighter."

The cat's ears swiveled towards me as I spoke. He growled, baring a few teeth from his blocky muzzle and pointed to the ground where I knelt. "Kshah." I didn't have to understand his language to know his intention.

"Stay?" I pointed at the ground as well. "Stay. I'll stay here, yes." I placed both paws on the ground between my knees to try and indicate my compliance.

He seemed pleased at the result, twisting his lips and forming the word "stay" as he pointed again before turning back to the shelves. I sat down and watched him pick his way through the items, poking through sacks of polished stones, cooking utensils, even some miniature wooden figurines before disappearing down another aisle of shelves.

Though I could still hear the massive creature and feel the thuds of its bare paws as it stepped over the wooden floorboards, I couldn't help but glance at the door. I knew better, but it was difficult not to imagine a daring escape. I could flee to the forest outside the town and make my way to a neighboring village. I could warn them of the invaders.

But I sat, wringing my paws over the edge of my soaked tunic until the feline returned. In one paw he carried a large burlap sack that was bulging with the loot he had just collected. There was nothing of any real value here, but a barbarian must have unusual needs. In his other paw was a long length of coiled rope.

He stood in front of me, dropping the bag onto the floor and reaching the freed paw down towards me. Fingers outstretched, he demanded "Gret um ool n'kist." Or some such unintelligible nonsense. As I stared dumbly back up at him, he snarled and snatched at one of my wrists, wrapping his fingers easily around it. "Kist!" He repeated, shaking my arm.

"Wrist?" I asked after a moment, looking between the rope and my other paw. "You want my wrists," I sighed, "of course, you want to tie my wrists together." I quickly offered my other wrist next to the first, holding them together. The cat grinned down at me, crouching and wasting no time wrapping the rope about each of my wrists in turn. Even crouching, he was massive. Now my muzzle was within inches of his own, reminding me only of how easily he could remove my limbs, if that were his desire.

My wrists bound, the cat shoved me onto my back. Sprawling onto the floor with my paws tied above me, I watched as he threaded the rope between my legs and began to tie it around one ankle, and then the other, leaving less than a meter of rope between them.

Placing his paw back onto my chest, the large feline leaned some of his weight onto me, forcing the air from my lungs. "Nu." He pointed at me. "Sa um." He pointed back at himself and gave the rope a tug. "Kshah."

I lied very still as he let go of the rope and reached to his side, producing a cruel looking dagger from the leather strap about his waist. Its edge was curved and the blade jagged. It appeared to be made of onyx, but the material didn't frighten me so much as the way the cat wielded it towards me. I whimpered and shuffled backwards on the floor. This time no rational thought could quell the instinct to run.

But that chance had long passed: a simple step on my tether brought me crashing back to the floor. "Kshah!" He roared again as I lifted myself back onto my paws and knees to crawl away. I crumpled into a ball, rolling onto my back again and putting my paws into the air.

"Don't! I've been good, don't hurt me..."

The feline snarled and leapt forward, his weight falling on top of me like a boulder of flesh and fur. His paws slammed my shoulders back against the floorboards and his knees pinned my legs beneath them. The pain of his weight alone forced a strained howl from my muzzle. His teeth fully bared, he growled savagely and repeated himself, "Kshah. Stay."

He reared up, and in the dim light of the store's lanterns I could see his tendons sliding beneath his rough coat, ready to react to any movement of my own. He grabbed the leather belt that held my tunic to my waist and pulled it up, inserting the dagger between it and my belly. I squeaked with fear as the blade snapped through the leather in one swift motion.

The belt removed, the feline discarded the dagger and applied both of his paws to the tunic. The soft fabric was no match for those claws as they dug in, scraping against my chest and tearing. Strip by strip, it was torn from my skin, revealing the soft tan fur of my chest and belly. Unlike the feline, there were no scars of battle or bloodstains on my fur. All we shared in common was the dampness of the rain on our pelts.

It appeared he was satisfied now, inspecting me again from his vantage. It was only then that I noticed the scent. There was more in the air than the damp fur and sweat from the savage on top of me. There was something almost salty to it. I didn't have to guess where it came from, for if there's one thing a savage doesn't have, its modesty.

Lifting his loincloth to the side, the cat revealed what little there was left to reveal. I shouldn't say little, because that word doesn't belong in the same sentence as this creature. Suffice to say that this part of him lived up to the rest and was standing proudly now across my chest. The flesh was as solid black as his dagger and hovered in the air, twitching with his heartbeat as it swelled.

One of his meaty paws reached down to grab it, teasing the flesh back and pulling it taut so that I could see a large bead of clear fluid forming at the tip. He knelt there for minutes, simply kneading his cock and teasing it with his paw, enjoying himself while all I could do was watch him. I could have been disgusted, or afraid, but after everything else I had seen today, this didn't seem nearly as upsetting. If anything, having him please himself over top of me made him seem less threatening.

It probed forward now, the thick black head pressing up against my nose even as I wriggled my muzzle away from it. The sticky fluid smeared over the front of my muzzle and formed a small bridge to the tip of his shaft. With another shove of his hips, the cock head was now pressed firmly against my closed lips. There were no words exchanged as I stared up into his commanding eyes. There wasn't much to question. I would either open my muzzle for him, or he would open it for me.

My tongue extended from my lips and brushed over the dry underside of his cock. The taste was salty, as my nose had predicted, but not as revolting as I had thought. Far from enjoyable, but tolerable. I convinced myself of this as the wide member was inserted deeper into my maw, filling it in a way I had never imagined as my tongue was pressed to the bottom and the head slid past the ridges along the roof of my muzzle.

A deep rumble passed over the feline, vibrating through his shaft and into my throat as he pressed his hips further against my face. The flesh was hot as it spread my lips wide around it and I could feel the tip tickling against the entrance to my throat. I tried not to cough it back, but failed. Gagging didn't help, as he had already pinned my head back against the floor. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the spasming for the few seconds it lasted until my nerves calmed.

Thankfully, he didn't press farther. He began to pull back and pump his hips against my muzzle. I could see the ripples along his belly as he thrusted, squeezing himself into the warmth I provided. I could smell everything as the huge body moved above me, but the musk of his arousal is what stuck in my mind.

The slick member glistened with my spit as it slid back and forth past my lips. My jaw had begun to ache by now, but I tried to keep my teeth from grazing along the flesh. Whenever I failed, and I failed often, I was reminded of my duties by a squeeze of my throat. My tongue worked out what space it could, pressing the hard flesh as it slid by with increasing pace. There was a guttural grunting from above my ears as one of the large white paws grabbed the back of my head, pulling it up from the ground to meet his thrusts. My chin could feel the gentle rubbing of his balls as they swung forward and back.

My teeth grazed along the flesh consistently now as my jaw screamed at my nerves for mercy, but the cat didn't notice. His powerful thrusts shoved the meat deep into my muzzle, slamming against the entrance of my throat as his grip tightened and his grunting grew louder. The thrusts became ragged as I felt the shaft swell once again, but this time was different.

The feline's body was tensed like a rock above me, his paw holding my head up against his shaft as it twitched. It twitched again, and once more before finally shooting the first coat of his seed into the depths of my maw. The taste was unbearable and it quickly filled my muzzle! Bitter and salty, it washed over every inch of my tongue. The viscous fluid stuck to my throat, even as I tried to swallow it down to keep from choking, but it flowed forth more quickly than I was willing to drink it.

With a cough, I spat some of it back out around the spasming cock that was feeding it to me. My body shivered beneath the knees still pinning me to the floor. My head yanked back at the vice-like paw, but it didn't give an inch. Again a spray of the fluid flowed into me, oozing out the side of my lips now as tears welled up from the fear of suffocation. When I breathed, the sticky fluid would seep its way into my lungs and make me cough again.

I didn't suffocate, of course. Eventually the cat withdrew and allowed me the freedom to cough the rest of the stuff out. His still hard cock quivered and dribbled the white ooze in a slow stream onto the fur of my neck. I didn't care. I twisted my muzzle to the side and spat, adding to the puddle that was collecting on the floor. Nothing I did would remove the taste and the smell was overwhelming my senses. Still, it was over, so I had one thing to be thankful for.

Actually, as it turns out, I didn't have one thing to be thankful for. I had finished hacking on the floor and was lying there, panting and praying for the moon to show me mercy. I mumbled the prayer through cum-stained lips. The cat was saying something to me, but I couldn't understand a word of it. I didn't have to, as he rose to his feet and yanked me up with him by my wrists.

I stumbled to my knees, hanging limp by my arms and staring at my captor pathetically. I could feel the now-cold fluid trickling down my chest, at least the part of it that had not yet dried into my matted fur. My knees dragged along the floor as he pulled me up to the store counter and tossed me onto it. With a quiet grunt, my chest landed on the cool wooden countertop and I pulled my paws up out from under me. The rope was chafing at my wrists by now, making them feel as raw as my jaw, which I was convinced would never forgive me.

"Nu sa um." The cat spoke behind me, though I couldn't see him now. I stared into the space behind the counter and tried to decipher what he meant. But there were no clues other than the gestures he had made when he first said it. I felt him run a claw down my bare spine. It crossed over the band holding my leggings to my waist and traveled to where my tail hung out of the small hole in the fabric. With a firm grip, he pulled the base of my tail up over my back and said "Kshah" again.

I held my tail in place, screwing my eyes shut as I felt a cool claw dig into the fabric and tear. The cloth resisted and pulled at my hips, but I could feel it give way to the savage's strength. The cool air greeted my exposed rear as the tattered cloth hung down the inside of my thighs. A greedy paw reached under me and grabbed at my sheath and balls, squeezing a yelp from my lips.

The cat laughed the same way he had when he first saw me in the town square. His paw kneaded at my balls with its sharp claws outstretched. The small pricks as they scraped against my sensitive flesh made me grip the edge of the counter in fear. I didn't enjoy it, but he knew as well as I did that the body has a mind of its own. My cock carefully extended from its home, a deep red and pointed member. He peeled my sheath back as it hardened, revealing my wet flesh to the air and stroking it between his paw pads.

Maybe, for a moment, I let myself enjoy the sensation. He wasn't out to hurt me now. My breath came out in small pants as I rocked my hips into his paw. I heard something thump onto the counter next to me, but I didn't care to look. I imagined myself somewhere else, with a beautiful bitch beneath me, as I pressed my hardened member into the tightly wrapped finger pads.

I was brought back to reality by the sharp feeling of something probing under my tail. Before I could react, something pressed hard against my tailhole. Whatever it was, it was slick, and it pried open the tensed ring of flesh and forced its way inside of me. I grit my teeth from the burning sensation and snapped my head back to look at the feline. It was only then that I noticed a small, innocuous jar sitting opened on the countertop. Cooking Oil.

It withdrew. I watched the cat as he moved a glistening finger back to the jar of cooking oil and dipped two fingers in. Two of those huge fingers...did he really think he could...

The dull throbbing pain in my rear fired up again as I felt the digit return. It squeezed itself in and I cried out as the second one wriggled in next to it, stretching my tailhole even further as he buried them both inside of me. I bit down on the rope between my wrists and breathed as he used my cock as leverage to pull me back onto his fingers. The bulge of their knuckles seared past my entrance repeatedly as he withdrew them and forced them in again.

I sobbed into the rope as the fingers withdrew. It didn't take any imagination to know what would be next. The paw around my cock withdrew as well as I felt the savage's thick, half-hard member come to rest under my tail. "Please, please don't..." I whimpered, "I did what you wanted, but please don't do this to me...anything but this..." My tail tugged down instinctively to protect myself, but it was yanked up again without effort.

I could only watch from the corner of my eye as the feline picked up the jar and began to spread the oil over his shaft. I could feel his paws massaging himself. The warm oil stuck to the fur of my rump as his knuckles passed back and forth over it. Finally, I heard the thud of the jar on the counter again and he began to wipe his paws off on the fabric of my torn leggings.

I squeezed shut as he hunched over me. Everything about me was closed. My teeth ground against the rope, my eyelids screwed tightly against one another, and my tailhole was a wall against his intrusion. The rigid head of his shaft probed at my closed entrance. The large, blocky muzzle came down next to my head and I felt his sharp teeth sink into my left ear.

"Loshki." He whispered to me as I sobbed again, the stinging pain amplified by a quick lick to the wound. The point was made. There were more painful things he could do to me if he didn't have his way.

My ear throbbing, I struggled to find whatever will was left inside me. My body refused to loosen. I told myself to let go, to breathe, to give in. As the cock probed harder against my entrance, I tried to force my body to submit. If I couldn't control my entrance, I could at least control my legs. With a quivering breath, I thrust myself back against him.

The fingers hadn't prepared me for the flaring pain of his penetration. The oil mitigated it, but I could feel every inch of hot flesh as he shoved it deeper. I screamed into the rope bit I had fashioned for myself, slamming my knees against the counter as I tried to squeeze the length back out again. My struggles brought a purr of pleasure from the savage. He squeezed the cheeks of my rump together and slammed himself forward until I could feel his balls slap against my own.

That was it...that was as far as it could go. I swallowed and panted, feeling my heart beating through the ring of abused flesh under my tail. He started to pull out, but I knew there was no hope for release. He began to thrust at a hard, but controlled pace. The oil soaked into my flesh, soothing the pain of his entry, but each thrust was a reminder of the girth of his shaft.

It felt like days were passing as he used me. I stared ahead, squeezing onto the cat's cock as he purred with each thrust. It never quickened or showed any indication of finishing. He was punishing me! This could have been nothing else. I was pushed into the countertop by his weight, trapped as the wet fur of the savage's belly matted against my back. The rough rope ground painfully along my chest and the side of my cock. Still, I rocked back against him, trying to please him, anything to make him finish with me.

He hunched forward and I could feel his hot breath over my torn ear. He growled something in his own language and grabbed onto both of my shoulders, slamming me down again. His hips began to thrust with vigor now, re-igniting the dull pain inside me. Each thrust caused the trinkets balanced on the store shelves to clack as he pounded me against the counter with renewed force.

I could feel it twitching inside of me now, as it had before in my muzzle. The sharp claws dug into my shoulders as he raggedly thrust into me again. With a roar, he slammed one final time and buried his length completely into my abused passage. I could barely feel the cock anymore, but the hotness of his seed was unmistakable as he emptied it inside of me. The massive weight of the feline's body slumped over me as he released himself with a satisfied groan.

I was crying again, shuddering under his weight and kneading the rope between my teeth. It was soggy with spit and leftover cum, but somehow it gave me comfort. I don't think I had ever felt as grateful as I did at that moment, to have his seed inside me. I was happy, because I knew it had to be over now. The pain could stop and I could rest.

But things are never quite that easy, are they?