In the Lap of Luxury
So here's a little in-between story I actually started a while ago but finally got around to finishing. It's a slightly different style for me, but that's why I kept it short. So, I hope you enjoy!
To live in the lap of luxury. Many would consider it a privilege to be born with so many conveniences. To have your every whim catered to. To have your own personal assistant, trimming your claws, bathing you every other morning, always attending to your fur to ensure it stay trimmed and neat. To be perhaps the most well-groomed hell-hound alive, to have everything one could ever want. It certainly sounds enticing.
And to him, it was. It was his life, and he took none of it for granted. There was just one... rather obnoxious caveat. Always strutting about the place, mewling with content and well... in his eyes it was practically arrogance. Not only was she spoiled as well as he, but she legitimately thought she could do everything she wanted. And only because she was the prettier one. Of this there was no question, not even to him. And for this she was Master's favorite. The Delcatty always at her side. Occasionally rubbing up against her ankles. Every moment she wasn't at Master's heels nor in her lap, she was parading about the manor, taunting everyone. With her perfectly trimmed coat, the bells on her collar ringing about, signifying her presence everywhere she went, her poised and prim posture, her voluptuous curves, her...
See, it was none of this that truly drove him mad. That truly frustrated him to the point of wanting to do something about this stuck-up little princess. It was the way she teased. The way she toyed with him. Every single day, it was as if she had made a bet. As if she wanted him to lash out. And it took every fiber of his being not to.
There he was, minding his own business, whether it be waiting for a meal, a bath or a command, and there she would be. Always catching him alone. That low and unmistakable purr would precede her entrance, usually to his flank or from the rear, she would slip by, pressing her figure against his own, rubbing up against his side. Without so much as a warning she was nuzzling him fiercely, purring as her fur pricked his, and doing a fine job of mucking up the thorough grooming he had usually received not long before.
But that wasn't even the worst of it. He couldn't stop it, after all. Master would never let him hear the end of it if he upset the precious Delcatty.
No, he had to endure it. He had to let her slip by, the top of her head gently bumping against his jaw, her curvaceous hips nudging at his side as she purred into his neck. A rumbling in his throat not even of his own volition. This would last what was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like minutes. Several, long and agonizing minutes, before she slipped away, her tail catching the end of his muzzle with a bump.
And then came the real killer. The most excruciating part of it all. This was why he had to take action. This was why he couldn't put up with her charade any longer. This was why she had to be taught a lesson.
She would just... leave! Slowly. Deliberately. That... impossibly round behind of hers flowing from side-to-side as her tail hung in the air, flaunting those tightly pursed - those wonderfully plump feminine lips that lay snug beneath her. And every time they caught his eyes. Every time he stared. And there was nothing he could do about it.
Well no more. This time, he would be ready.
This time, he avoided the routine. This time, he waited around in the garden, to see if she would seek him out this time. After all, it had become such a habit of hers. He was banking on it at this point. She always found him. Perhaps she had simply memorized his scent. They had been living together for years, after all.
Or, perhaps she was merely patient.
The minutes wore on, but it was only a matter of time.
Bingo.
Like clockwork, his ears pricked up, catching wind of the feline long before he'd caught her sight. He stood still, not wanting to blow his cover. He had planned this for far too long to screw it up now. The purring neared, as she couldn't be but a few feet behind him.
And then he felt her, doing the same as she always had, wordless in her technique, but saying everything as a result. She pushed her way past him, his fur standing up on end as it came into contact with hers. She was like a snake, slithering up beside him, but he felt anything but the creeps. They were certainly jitters, but the kind that made him anticipate more. If only she was quicker. If only she would move on to the next part already. But still she lingered, affectionate nudges finding their way to his shoulder. He could feel his muscles tense up as he fought the urge to move. Just a minute more, and his patience would be rewarded. He would finally have his revenge.
To his surprise, however, she had backed away. She had never done this before. Surely she couldn't have left it at that! Not this time! He had to check just to be sure. He turned his head toward her, and in that moment he caught her. She slipped beneath him, hushed mewling complimented by further prods just below his muzzle.
Why was she such a tease? Did she find some sort of sick and twisted enjoyment in doing this to him? It wasn't fair. But he just about had her. Just one more step.
It began slowly, her finally peeling away from him, her meows relegating to purrs, and that hip-led turn she always did.
Her tail, he had to watch her tail. His eyes were focused on that neatly frayed purple end, just as it was about to come into contact with his snout... he caught it.
She turned, obviously stunned he had done such a thing. He had thrown off her typical way of doing things. Her calculated procedure. It was ruined. But to him, this was only the beginning.
He tugged. Not too hard, but just enough to elicit a response.
She let out a rather subdued mew, one of surprise more than pain. One that nobody could hear but him. Not yet, of course.
But still he held her, not moving as his eyes pierced her own. He wanted her to see, and so he waited, her tail still caught in his teeth. He wanted her to see what she had done to him. What pain she had caused him. The sheer agony she had wrought with her countless temptations.
Not until her gaze broke his own, not until she peered down, and her eyes widened just enough to let him know that she had seen the result of her actions; then he made his move.
He lunged. In the short span of a shocked yowl he had relinquished his hold on her tail, and instead had his paw to her back, pressing down firmly as he pulled himself closer to her. For a moment she struggled, a look of genuine worry - fear, perhaps in her glistening eyes. Never before had the Houndoom been so quick. So aggressive. But he was hungry for revenge. Thirsty for satisfaction. So much so, that he licked his own chops as he pulled her back, his powerful front paws moving down her flanks, and pinning her shapely behind to his underside. It may have been an uncomfortable position for the moment, but this is what she deserved. He pushed his hips forward, the length of his cock gliding across that soft and puffy entrance he had longed for, barely parting her lips just enough to feel her warmth kiss his tool.
She didn't struggle any longer, she didn't protest, she didn't cry out. Was it to his dismay or his pleasure? He didn't actually know anymore. But again she was purring. That same, consistently low feline murmur of hers tickling his ears as he rubbed against her.
He couldn't tease her back. He knew he couldn't. He had to simply take her. To show her up for the first time. To let her know why he was the top dog around here, while she remained nothing more than Master's pet. His dick throbbed and twitched against her, anxious for its long-awaited reward. But he had to adjust. He couldn't take her like this.
His hold on her relaxed, and she eased forward. Only a touch. Her fores stretched out as her back arched downward, mewling once again as slid into position, her cheek to the grass, her claws gripping the dirt, and her ample rear filling the crooks beneath him. As if moulding into his shape.
A perfect fit.
All that remained was one final connection.
With his fangs bared it was he who finally spoke. A husky growl filled his maw, escaping him in unison with his very first thrust. The feeling of sliding into her was nothing short of bliss. The slickness of her feline pussy was unlike anything he could hope to expect, accepting him with a sense of eagerness. She was such a tight fit too, the way she squeezed his member sent shivers in places he didn't know could quiver. Snug as she was, he slipped inside without a second thought. Without issue nor quarrel.
And still she maintained her composure. Still she yowled. Still she teased him. Even with the entirety of his cock buried in her quivering vagina she managed to spite him. There was only one thing left that could be done to end this once and for all.
He drew back, a hushed snarl drawn across his muzzle in all but sound, his thick canine penis soon bereft of her intoxicating warmth. Only for a moment, but it felt like an eternity.
He did not simply thrust. He drove himself into her. He spread her in such an instant, he surprised even himself. And she howled. Crying throughout the garden with such intense lust for the sensation alone, it was music to his ears.
No, for once it didn't annoy him. It pleased him. It spurred him on. He wished to hear it again. And again.
His fores pressed upon the grass, unfortunately trimmed claws unable to keep him steady, he simply flattened his stance over her. He dipped down, gently taking hold of her with his maw, sure not to sink his teeth into her by accident. Now he stood, hunched over her, steady as he could manage, his throbbing inches buried deep into her wet and eager cunny. Further action was required.
He began to thrust, feeling his cock through her tunnel as it slid back and forth, his hips meeting hers every time he pushed, and his ears were rewarded with a little slap, his powerful thighs ever so slightly rebounding off the cushion that was her positively full feline butt. The way her body reacted to every detail of his movement only made his objective easier. What had once felt like a lesson he had to teach now felt like a reward. The spite had drained from him so quickly, he didn't even mind that she too was enjoying it just as well, if not moreso.
Her outstretched paws kneaded the earth as she called for more. As she moaned with ecstasy. His size alone drove the pretty cat mad, and likely would have been a rather daunting prospect for her, were he already not inside of her.
And with each motion he could only vaguely feel his knot begin to swell, perhaps less so than she did, its girth pressing against her lips with a sense of urgency and a threat to enter. But it was nothing more than that for now.
This felt wonderful and all, but she had stopped her screams. She wasn't being put to shame much like she had done to him so many times before. That was when it clicked, and he was reminded there was more to this than pleasure.
The beast was loose, and reared backed yet again, his thrusts far more potent and full, much like the second time he had driven into her, now simply on repeat. Without even a moment's pause he fucked this cat in earnest, his balls swinging beneath, his knot kissing her her opening with very small pops that only his sensitive ears could barely pick up on.
She was too busy begging for more to notice, too busy announcing her satisfaction to the rest of the world. Too busy clawing the soil beneath the blades at her paws. Too busy finally getting exactly what she had been asking for since the first time she flashed her goods to the big dog.
His thrusts were mindless, almost an afterthought at this point. It felt so natural, what part of him was conscious had come to that very realization. This dastardly cat had been vying for him all this time. He had played right into her paw, even now as he humped her senseless; rutted her like the animals they both knew they were.
But she hadn't won. Not yet.
He still had the upper hand. All he had to do was refrain from plugging her tightness with his swollen knot. Refrain from filling her with his seed. Refrain from gifting her the kittens she so desired. It was a simple task.
And yet, such a victory would be so hollow.
With a howl and rough shove he locked himself into place, the instinctive withdrawal he attempted immediately after was nullified, and his hind legs just about buckled. The rush of his cum overwhelmed the pair, and their collective outcries filled the garden. The orgasm was intense, and the both of them shook for what felt like an age. The moment was even sweeter than he could have hoped; never did he think defeat would feel so good. And she, she had finally gotten everything she wished for.
Finally he could reflect, even as he swung his leg over her in a turn, completing the tie, his seed continuing to slowly deposit into his newfound mate. Even as he his ears pricked upward to the tune of multiple incoming footsteps. Even as the sound of Master's shriek jolted them both back to reality, he came to the conclusion.
To live in the lap of luxury. Perhaps it was a bit overrated.