Preamble

Disclaimers... ugh... everything. It's all bad. Check tags, save yourself, run for the hills.

Chapter 4: A Cat in a Box

I remember waking up the next day. It started the very same as every other day started. I got up, and my loving boyfriend kissed me while I made him breakfast. We exchanged pleasantries even though I'd turned him down for sex the night before. Fortunately, he didn't bring it up at all. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had. The main reason for that was that I frankly had a higher sex drive than the dog.

Well, that's not to say his wasn't rather impressive as well. The dog wanted to fuck at least once a day, and I was just more likely to be interested in a second or third go-around myself. So for me to be turning down sex was pretty strange, and usually, it only ever happened if I was upset about something.

I went to The Clinic that day. It was the card the bear had given me, the times listed on it. The whole thing was hazy. I kind of just mumbled through every question they asked me. I couldn't handle them, really; I had to be somewhere else in my mind. I didn't pretend they weren't judging me for my risky behavior, which I had to divulge in a lifeless near-monotone. Before I knew it, I had an appointment for six days later and a handful of free condoms that wouldn't fit any man currently in my life-- especially since I liked to think there were only two.

I remember staring at my phone repeatedly throughout the rest of the day as if my eyes could evoke a message. But what was I waiting for? "Just kidding!"? I sipped tea slowly, trying to relax. I wasn't as mortified as I probably should have been. I guess I was, but it was a lot like staring up at a skyscraper. It's kind of impossible to fathom just how tall it really is, so it sort of just becomes... "tall." It just falls beyond your senses and almost becomes mundane.

And that's how I felt. I felt like it just "sucked." I mean, it sucked on a few pretty extreme levels. I felt somewhere like my trust was broken, but what trust? The trust I had for a stranger who had fucked me on a level bordering an attack? A stranger who was blackmailing me? So what right did I have to trust or to call foul?

Still, it was a nightmare: A slow, silent nightmare. I spent the whole first day simply questioning whether I was awake, whether anything had really happened, existentially questioning reality on a mere conceptual level as I became desperate. But still, despite whatever Schrödinger had planned for me, I was brave in front of my dog when he came home. We hung out, chit-chatted. We ate and cuddled.

Once again, he pressed up behind me at night, nudging me, poking me. I mumbled and whined, apologizing. He pushed his nose to the crook where my neck and shoulder met and let out a frustrated little huff. The one thing I could at least count on was that he was the last guy ever to bring something up, and he always seemed to wait for me. So he just took my silence in stride and cuddled me to bed.

The following morning was a mirror of the last, my 50's housewife routine for today's one-man audience. Once he was gone, I became Doctor Web MD, himself. If my life weren't on the line, I'd say it was funny how easy it was for me to think "hmmm I KIND of have that symptom". It was a sort of pessimistic optimism for various hints of what I might have.

The phone was just as quiet as the first day, for the most part. When it did buzz, later in the evening, dangerously close to my man's arrival, I stupidly picked it up in a hurry. Bringing it to my face I coldly spat "What do you want?!" with a built up anger of two days.

"Whoa there Darwin, excu-uuse me for interrupting your work haha.."

My boyfriend's voice startled the fuck out of me and I swear I could have just died right there. I put a hand on my forehead, rubbing it slowly as my shoulders drooped. For that brief moment, the nightmare was fake and I was back in the real world, saying "of course, who else would it be?"

"Anyway, hey kitty, do you mind if I pull an all-nighter tonight? I've just still got a lot of crap to catch up to at work a-and I felt like this would be my one chance. I'm getting pretty sick and tired of my days being so crazy since I got back."

I blinked, looking around a little bit for a reason I couldn't explain. I even nodded, stupidly, before speaking. "Ah uh.. well yeah, sure babe that's fine. I'll see you tomorrow?"

We were fine with the arrangement. It wasn't the first time the dog had stayed over at work, not by a long shot. The place he worked at was practically a man-child's dream house. It was a very Web 2.0 sorta setup, trying their damnedest to mimic companies like Google and such who spoiled their kids in exchange for an addiction to the workplace. Frankly, it was convenient because I still didn't want to fool around with the dog.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I did-- or did I? I thought about it a bit. By now, I should have been scratching the walls and yowling at the door. However, it seemed the stress of worrying for my life killed my impressive libido. But that's not why, anyway. Hell, I could still fuck. No matter what. The problem was that I didn't want to give a potential disease to my beloved hubby. That would be like dying a -second time- for me.

So I stayed at home. I gave myself a long hot bath, trying to whittle away at the stress. But still, I eventually found myself in a lonely bed, curled up.

God, I really hate sleeping alone.

The next day came rather late. I had something along the lines of a panic attack in the middle of the night as I'd woken up alone and slowly came back to the reality of what I'd done. I didn't recall when or how I'd fallen back to sleep through my crying fit but when I awoke it was nearly noon. I was alone, so it didn't matter much. Actually it felt kind of nice to sleep in.

I went to my phone right away, reading it from bed. When I saw a message, I almost jumped. Once again, it was from my boyfriend. Perhaps I'd dreamt the bear up all along. The message read, "I really powered through work last night! I'm gonna be home kinda late tonight, and maybe for the rest of the week, but things are great!"

I stared at the phone. Again, the dog was often getting lost in his work projects. Actually, this would probably help me evade the dog's sex drive. All I really wanted was for time to pass, skip forward.

It sort of did. That night, the dog scarfed down dinner after coming home at nearly 9PM. He kissed me fiercely and hugged me, rubbing my back. I asked, numbly, how work was going and he wagged his tail as he told me it was great. I smiled a bit.

Come bedtime, the dog professed to being rather pooped, not having slept much the night before. He held me. I let myself drift. He smelled shockingly clean for a dog who'd spent the night at work so they probably had showers there. Of course, they did. They had everything. I really loved the way he smelled no matter what, and when he was clean it was subtle hints of dog. My dog. I held those strong arms; he squeezed me as I fell asleep.

The rest of the week just sort of passed. He kept coming home late from work, tired as all hell, and spent another all-nighter one more time. I was just happy to have my dog to hold me the nights he was there. It felt safe to know I had my man--the one man who was all mine. Maybe I betrayed his trust, but at least he trusted me. And I would never betray his trust again.

The bear was gone. Even on the morning of my appointment, my phone was silent. So the nightmare was over. It was a weekend, so I told my dog I had an errand to run and would probably be gone till 6 PM. He told me he was going to go out with some work buddies for most of the day anyway.

I didn't ask questions because I didn't want questions asked of me. It wasn't at all rare for us to split up on weekends since we had our separate social circles.

I grossly overestimated the trip, however. I was only waiting till about 11:30 AM before I got my results. They clarified that the day you get the bloodwork done was the day you can get stuck there till 6PM. But I didn't mind, in fact, I was ecstatic. It wasn't for saving time in my day, but because all tests came back negative! Even if the bear had messaged me again, I wouldn't respond. I was never going to put my man in danger again.

I was pretty fucking peppy on the way back. I opened the door, hearing some rather loud music playing upstairs. I smiled wide, realizing the mutt hadn't gotten to his friends yet and that I might be able to go to wherever they were going. His friends were very friendly with me, and while I couldn't talk about "work stuff," I still did pretty well at conversation.

I had quite a bit of bounce in my step as I stepped toward our bedroom door, where the loud music was coming from. It was his music, The Black Keys. I preferred something a little more morose, really, but they were okay. I giggled to myself at this thought as I came to step into the doorway.

It's funny how my smile lasted a minute. My face was just as frozen as the rest of my body as I stepped into that nightmare. In the room was not only the deafeningly loud music and my dog. In the room was a monster, brown-furred, with hefty muscles covered in a layer of fat. In the room was grunting, slapping, gasping, panting.

I dropped my purse, my smile finally shifting into a dumbly slack-jawed, emotionless stare. I'm pretty sure I wasn't alive at that point; I was a ghost. Or maybe I wanted to be. The bear turned his head to me, without missing a beat, and raised a hand to put a thick finger to his own lips, which pursed into a silent "shh."

Of course, he was shushing me from announcing myself to the dog, who, despite being only across the room from me, was blindfolded. He was wearing a collar and a pair of panties, tail pulled through one of the leg-holes so that it did not get in the way of the bear's massive prick currently ramming into him. The panties were only a little frilly and had little dog-bones, or dog treats, whatever, printed all over them.

Now I don't know to what degree my dog has bottomed. He mentioned to me once that it wasn't really his thing, but I never pried. I knew he'd done it before, but he said he was perfectly happy with the fact that I was a complete bottom. Hell, he'd never brought up bottoming for me.

"Who's yer fuckin' daddy, puppy?" the strong, deep voice growled out, eyes actually on me.

The panting mutt bouncing back and forth from the bear's hard thrusts barked back. "Y-you, sir! Woof!"

"Who's the one you love, puppy?" That big bear grumbled, eyes still on the cat with a big smile that screamed, 'check out my neat trick!'.

"RRUFF you-- sir! I love you and only-- you... daddy bear.." The dog tried to speak through the yelps and whines. The bear didn't seem to be fucking him with the entirety of his dick, but even still, the dog was a mess, drool literally hanging from his chin, splattering here and there. The bedsheets- my bedsheets, were wet in several places. And before long, I realized that I could smell the bear's pee. Some whiter parts of my dog were a bit yellow.

I can't explain how sick I felt. I shook, holding my side, and leaned on the doorframe, sliding down to my knees. I was shaking, my head was spinning, and forehead felt warm, my skin felt cold, my fur was bristling strangely.

The big bear tilted his head at me and almost looked sympathetic before he started to fuck the dog harder and faster. Canine yelps and whimpers filled the room as the bear pumped and pumped before stopping. The flexing of that massive body told me the bear was pumping one of his heavy loads into the already distended belly of what was once MY man.

The bear sighed before finally opening his eyes again, looking over at me with a big friendly smile.

He reached to me and curled his finger. "Now, puppy, remember why you're wearing the blindfold. I know you love your new master and papa bear, and I've loved playing with my puppy all week. But if you're gonna be my puppy, that means you have to take any load I want you to.

I was somehow already walking toward the bear. I don't know why. I swallowed hard. He pulled me closer, actually pinning me to his side as he pulled out and stepped off the bed. He brought me into a complete hug, not caring that he was smearing his cum-covered cock, fresh out of my boyfriend's ass, all over my clothes. I was numb. I felt like a marionette, tugged by the bear's strings. Somehow I just hugged back for some reason.

The bear grabbed the dog's hips, yanking him roughly, making him yelp. He repositioned him so that the dog's legs hung from the bed, ass at the edge, tail up and wagging, cum oozing. It was probably already the third or fourth load.

"So, will you be a good boy for my guest?"

My heart raced. He didn't intend to... introduce me, did he?

"Yes sir, daddy! Anything, rruff!"

I wanted to die.

A strong hand pushed me down onto my knees in front of the hanging ass of my life partner. And before long, that hand was pushing my head toward him. I struggled, but oddly not to get away from the bear's cum but from my traitorous boyfriend. It's then that it was finally hitting me. Night at work here, those late evenings and early mornings. I felt sick. I felt even more sick as my muzzle was pressed against a copious amount of bear cum.

It was a lewd "shlorp" sorta sound as my muzzle was pinned between the dog's cheeks, right into that copious flood of cum. I shuddered. It didn't even smell like ass, it just smelled like bear cum. It smelled so strongly of it. Reluctantly, I started licking. I closed my eyes, focusing on the taste and not who it was.

Of course, that's when the dog started whining, ears splayed, tail wagging. "Wruff! Oh daddy bear! You're the best master ever! Woof!"

Dear fucking god that dog shit was stupid.

I just licked and licked. There was some trickling on my face, and I then realized it was the bear's precum, the sound of him pumping his member right over me was filling my ears. Before long, however, hands wrapped around my sides, under my arms, and I was lifted to my feet. The paws quickly began to undo my pants. Did the bear intend to fuck me right now?

I squirmed a bit, but it was no use. Soon my pants were pooled at my ankles. The bear's fat member, wet and sloppy, pinned and pried my cheeks apart. I could feel the throbbing, excited dick on that panting bear as he pumped precum directly into me, pushing his head hard against my hole, loosening it bit by bit.

It was almost procedure now and before long he was hilted inside me, my body squirming and twitching. A heavy paw was clamped around my muzzle, trying to keep me from making sounds.

Now, this was the part I was clueless about. The bear suddenly growled, "Y'ready to let master's friend fuck you, puppy? Gonna take that load right? You'd take anybody's load if I wanted you to, huh pup? You're my little slut puppy, huh?"

My eyes widened as he pushed me forward with his hips, a wide paw wrapping around my shaft, guiding it to the dog's wet, used hole. He shuffled me forward, hilted the whole time, and soon my member was sliding in far-too-easily in that wet hole. Jesus Christ, he felt like he'd been fisted. Is that how I felt after being fucked by the bear? No, not nearly this loose.

"Arooo! Yes sir, master! I'll take the whole town's loads if you wanna master WOOF!"

I was sick to my stomach again, my hips pressed against the muscular ass of my big, strong man-- now reduced to a whimpering puppy.

He took his hand from my dick to my hip, pulling me back with him and then thrusting forward again. He fucked the dog using my dick but never pulled out of me any. Soon, he had built a rhythm.

Yeah, I came eventually. The dog said something stupid, but I don't know what. I remember falling to my knees afterward and then the floor. The wood felt cool on my face as everything turned black.

When I woke up, I was being fucked. It was a startling way to wake. The bear atop me smirked, licking his lips. "Mmm.. welcome back, kitty.. don't worry, I'm almost done." He just kept thrusting, and I passed out again.

I woke up once more. This time I was in bed, peaceful. I stretched. The nightmare was over. I looked around.

This is not my house.

I panicked for a moment, sitting up with a bolt. Sweat was on my forehead, and I looked around quickly. The furnishings were nice.

Soon there was a bear in the doorway. My ears pinned back. The bear tilted his head curiously at me. There was a plate of food in his hand and something tucked under his other arm. "Heh, you feelin' okay, cutie? I was scared I broke ya. Are you good to eat.?"

Fuck you, fucker. Asshole. Monster. "I'm fine.."

The bear shook his head, stepping to me. He sat down on the bed next to me and put a sort of in-bed-tv-tray over my lap and then the plate of food over it. "Here, just eat what you can. I know it's been more than eight hours since you last ate something.."

Eight hours? How long had I been out? And why does he know that? And more importantly, why the fuck was this sociopath, psychopath, rapist fucker treating me like this??

I started eating, though. I was hungry.

It was quiet for a while, and the bear brought a massive hand over my head, rubbing the broad paw into my hair as if we were childhood chums. I glared at him, and he smiled a warm, slightly toothy grin that screamed nothing but friendliness.

"You used me to get to him," I mumbled softly. I felt numb as I chewed the food. I couldn't taste it. I mean, I'm sure I could, but it wasn't where my mind was.

The bear frowned. "Kitty... I just needed to fuck something while you were waiting for your tests, and I figured if I can't fuck my kitty, at least he's the closest thing. But I'm done with him, I promise. I don't need him now. All that puppy stuff was a complete turnoff, anyway."

I felt my heart fill a bit. Was this really me? Was I really such a piece of shit? Did this statement MAKE ME HAPPY? Why was I relieved that I was the object of his affection, and why did I even believe him? My ears pinned back, and I whimpered softly, regretting the sound once it left me. My voice was scratchy as I held back the torrent "Y-you.. why did..."

He reached over and rubbed the back of my head, leaning in to kiss my forehead softly with those big, soft, black lips. When he pulled back, my large green eyes were staring at him, watery with tears. I was shaking. His other hand dragged over to rub my chest before sliding up, fingers trailing my throat and then one lifting my chin before simply wrapping around. But the grip lacked any force, and it felt strangely like a warm hug on my neck.

He stared at my face, a serious look on his, as if measuring something very precisely.

"You're so beautiful," he said.

I could feel my heart sink. I felt so weak. He leaned in and tilted his head, kissing my lips firmly. A tongue slid into my mouth, but it wasn't that forceful, just forceful enough. This time the bear simply tasted my tongue, trailed along with my teeth. He let me feel the heft of that muscle in my maw before pulling it back. The bite on my lower lip was harder than I expected, causing a little squeak to leave me. As he pulled away, he licked at it a bit, dragging the tiny drop of blood off of it.

His look was stern, eyebrows lowering. He grabbed the tray and put it on the nightstand and then began to climb in bed. He was wearing nothing at all. I trembled, knowing the big bear was going to fuck me again. I didn't want it. No more.

The biggest shock came when he had me on my side and pinned my face to his chest. His other arm pressed that slender body of mine to his completely opposite hefty, bellied beef. A cold nose and warm muzzle teased through my hair, planting kisses to the top of my head, hot breath slowly rolling through the strands.

And I just fucking started bawling. I shook in those strong arms, crying into the bear's chest. What was I even crying about, specifically? Couldn't tell you. Really I just felt like a baby. I was exhausted and I didn't know what to be upset about. I just felt weak and needed to cry. Eventually, I was even more tired from all the sobbing and bawling. I grew sluggish. The bear turned me around and tugged the sheets over us.

I felt the heat of his member, drooling wet, pressing to my backside. But this time I felt a big muzzle pressing softly to my ear, kissing it, giving it a nibble before whispering "can I?". I don't know why I nodded, but I did. The bear started to slowly press into me. How many loads had he put into me while I was knocked out? Either way, it wasn't so hard. But then this time, the bear fucked me so slowly, tenderly.

Really, it wasn't fucking at all. He just slowly slid himself in and out, like he was making love to me. He would place kisses about my head, nibbling my ears, pinning his muzzle to my neck, and breathing in deeply. I moaned at the feeling of that monster cock just dragging back and forth while the big bear did this. Eventually he did begin to pump more heavily and finally came inside me, causing my already heavy belly to grow a bit more. I tensed, cumming myself. Quite a bit, actually.

I shook there, held in those tight arms. After a moment, the bear started dragging his big cock back and then forth again, this time even slower than before. He quietly went "shhh" in my ear. It must have worked because I managed to fall asleep with 10 lbs of dick fucking me.

Everything was so fucked. So why did this feel so good?

Epilogue

You know, he did know that boar guy. Saw him at the bar one night. He thought it was some kind of role-play thing.