{"sf1_id":1804936,"sf2_id":"rnaY99nb","title":"The Red Room","author":"ABadChoiceofWords","words":2163,"posted_at":"2022-01-06T11:31:00.000Z","tags":["Canine","Condom","Cum","Ejaculation","Female","Incest","Knot","Knotting","Male","Male/Female","Mating","Mother","Prostitution","Protected","Sex","Son","Straight","Vaginal","spade"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1804936-the-red-room","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/rnaY99nb","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/4b/0a/4b0a3f27-44f6-433b-b725-43c4a27ad091","description":"This one's liable to receive a rework at some point. I was originally going to write a second chapter, and maybe a third, but I'm thinking now it might flow better as a single body. So if this poofs, check for the replacement. ...though I might just leave this up for the sake of a process example or something.","content":"So, me.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI didn't have family, just a basket at the ER door.\u0026nbsp; Who goes out and gets a basket for that, anyways?\u0026nbsp; Well, whoever dropped me off, they wrapped me in red.\u0026nbsp; Deep, like blood.\u0026nbsp; Not really silk, just something sorta like.\u0026nbsp; And not a blanket either, just a big piece cut off something bigger.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nThey let me keep it - the not-blanket, not the basket.\u0026nbsp; At least for a while.\u0026nbsp; I still remember it.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nSo my first fosters called me Red.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nBounced around the system, city to city, home to home.\u0026nbsp; I was a problem pup: never where I was supposed to be, always where I wasn't.\u0026nbsp; Too loud, too quick.\u0026nbsp; Too sharp in the tooth.\u0026nbsp; When they hit me, I bit.\u0026nbsp; And bit.\u0026nbsp; And bit.\u0026nbsp; Until they bit back.\u0026nbsp; Then I bled, and got sent somehwere else.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut that didn't matter so much.\u0026nbsp; I went to schools.\u0026nbsp; Lots of them.\u0026nbsp; One gave me a test, not like the rest.\u0026nbsp; They asked me to just do what I could.\u0026nbsp; No failing.\u0026nbsp; Not pressure.\u0026nbsp; So I did.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nThings were different after that.\u0026nbsp; Different classes.\u0026nbsp; Different teachers.\u0026nbsp; Different rooms.\u0026nbsp; I was a kid, I didn't know how it mattered.\u0026nbsp; But it was nice.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHome wasn't.\u0026nbsp; Got bit, got moved again.\u0026nbsp; But what I'd done at that school, it followed me.\u0026nbsp; At the new one, my classmates were older.\u0026nbsp; I did better.\u0026nbsp; Good with numbers.\u0026nbsp; Good with words.\u0026nbsp; Didn't make friends, though.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nMoved again, finished high.\u0026nbsp; The one thing going for a foster pup, free college.\u0026nbsp; Went with a two year.\u0026nbsp; Got hired.\u0026nbsp; Got the promotion.\u0026nbsp; Got better offers.\u0026nbsp; First in my life, I'd a choice where to go.\u0026nbsp; And I chose home.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nWell, \"home\".\u0026nbsp; Born in that city, shipped off days after.\u0026nbsp; But I felt I'd find a piece of me still there, something I'd lost even before anything got bitten off.\u0026nbsp; So I went back.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI'd no friends there.\u0026nbsp; Kept in touch with my dorm mates, but they'd stayed where they were or gone off to other places.\u0026nbsp; So no real pack scene.\u0026nbsp; Which was fine.\u0026nbsp; Couldn't be comfortable in crowds, too much like foster.\u0026nbsp; I liked quiet.\u0026nbsp; I liked moody.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nBy day, everyone's going.\u0026nbsp; By night, what's still there is just happening.\u0026nbsp; That howled to me.\u0026nbsp; One day I'd happened.\u0026nbsp; Hadn't stopped since.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI wandered from set of sun into the dim, and then the dark.\u0026nbsp; Not the smartest thing, or safest.\u0026nbsp; But I guess I looked tough.\u0026nbsp; Been bit so much, so early, those marks came out rough by the time I'd stopped growing.\u0026nbsp; I wasn't that big for my breed, but I guess big's relative.\u0026nbsp; And I didn't so much mind bleeding.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nTried some brothels, the better kind.\u0026nbsp; Paid to pretend, but that they were honest about.\u0026nbsp; And their spades didn't lie.\u0026nbsp; I liked their taste.\u0026nbsp; I liked their feel.\u0026nbsp; I liked the ones who knew how to get knotted.\u0026nbsp; I don't think I was bad at it.\u0026nbsp; They'd ask me back, at least.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd I would, sometimes.\u0026nbsp; But not much.\u0026nbsp; 'Round and 'round, chasing the same tails - no.\u0026nbsp; Not quite.\u0026nbsp; I was chasing something else.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nWhen I'd been dumped, it wasn't your box-and-newspaper deal.\u0026nbsp; Red, remember?\u0026nbsp; Me.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nMine was fancy.\u0026nbsp; Kinda.\u0026nbsp; Where do you go to find kinda-fancy, and maybe make an unwanted pup?\n\nStupid odds, I knew.\u0026nbsp; But it was something to do with my nights, more than just keeping my knot wet.\u0026nbsp; A dozen places, then a dozen more.\u0026nbsp; Spade on spade.\u0026nbsp; Fucked my way half across the city.\u0026nbsp; The best ones were older - not old old, just those with a few years more experience.\u0026nbsp; More of them would take the knot.\u0026nbsp; And they took it better.\u0026nbsp; And that was good.\u0026nbsp; Damn good.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd then, one day, her.\u0026nbsp; Same breed, same fur.\u0026nbsp; She looked like me.\u0026nbsp; Not exactly like me, but damn like me.\u0026nbsp; Not quite as big, but still big.\u0026nbsp; Not so much bitten-up, but still bitten.\u0026nbsp; I knew her face, I'd seen enough of it in the mirror every morning, every night.\u0026nbsp; Two decades later, she was still at it.\u0026nbsp; And she wasn't the slightest bit shy about her scars.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nOf course I booked her.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"I work the Red Room, though we have others if that's not to your taste.\"\n\nShe didn't know my name.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't say no.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Come in, big boy.\"\u0026nbsp; She led, I followed.\n\nIt was red, of course.\u0026nbsp; Hardly a rare color, in those places.\u0026nbsp; But this was all red.\u0026nbsp; Red carpet, red wallpaper, red drapes.\u0026nbsp; Doors, lights, veils, bed.\u0026nbsp; Bright reds.\u0026nbsp; Dark reds.\u0026nbsp; Redwood.\u0026nbsp; Not a single inch of the place was anything but a shade of red.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe pointed me to the shower.\u0026nbsp; I stripped and put the water on full.\u0026nbsp; It stung, hot, but I was already melted inside.\u0026nbsp; My head, my heart, my belly.\u0026nbsp; Paws buzzed, legs too.\u0026nbsp; I didn't know what to say, how to start.\u0026nbsp; I'm Red.\u0026nbsp; Your son.\u0026nbsp; Too much, too fast, hadn't even been ten minutes.\u0026nbsp; Her voice was strange to hear.\u0026nbsp; Never even thought about what she'd sound like.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd maybe I was wrong.\u0026nbsp; What were the odds of that?\u0026nbsp; I'd have to ask her around it, find out first.\u0026nbsp; But how do you even ask that, especially in a brothel?\u0026nbsp; She'd catch on, or think I was a nut, a stalker, something.\u0026nbsp; Either way, I'd be out on my ass before I got a good answer.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nWorse, my cock wanted in.\u0026nbsp; Rest of me, too.\u0026nbsp; I'd done this too many times.\u0026nbsp; My body knew the routine and what came next, and I couldn't tell it the difference.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI was taking too long.\u0026nbsp; She'd notice, know something was up.\u0026nbsp; I cranked the water off, ran myself through the towels, and struck back out into the red.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nA long, red shawl hung from her shoulders down to her belly, to that darker tuft just below.\u0026nbsp; Her spade peeked out, enough that it couldn't be ignored.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd then the shawl was on the floor, and she was wholly naked.\u0026nbsp; In front of me.\u0026nbsp; Grinning, sly.\u0026nbsp; Inviting.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Like what you see?\"\u0026nbsp; And I did.\u0026nbsp; \"Want this?\"\u0026nbsp; And I did.\u0026nbsp; \"Then come on, big boy.\"\u0026nbsp; And I did.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nShoulda told her who I was.\u0026nbsp; Woulda been the right thing to do, the sane thing to do.\u0026nbsp; And I did want to ask her, to tell her, to hear her say what I knew.\u0026nbsp; That she'd gotten knocked up, that it'd been me or the work.\u0026nbsp; That she'd chosen the work.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut there wasn't any of that I could say that wouldn't end in distater.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd I was naked, same as her; ready to fuck, same as her.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't stop staring at her spade.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe laid back to the bed, held up the condom.\u0026nbsp; I knelt on the edge, took it from her, slid it up.\u0026nbsp; And once I had, she spread her legs for to me.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI put my paws to her chest, ran them down, felt each pair of nubs along the way.\u0026nbsp; She looked rough at her edges, but her fur was so soft.\u0026nbsp; Her tail spun between my legs, thick and fluffy, tickling my thighs, my rump, my balls.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe didn't know.\u0026nbsp; Did I want her to know?\u0026nbsp; I didn't know.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHer hand followed mine down her middle, slow, all the way to her spade.\u0026nbsp; I held her at the hips and watched her work.\u0026nbsp; Her claws were long and curved, and moved with deliberate grace.\u0026nbsp; She fingered her sex open and held it for me.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nMy shaft was ready.\u0026nbsp; I wasn't.\u0026nbsp; But the tip fit so well.\u0026nbsp; She made a noise, like purring, like cooing.\u0026nbsp; Her other hand put to my chest, gripped my fur, pulled me down.\u0026nbsp; It slid right in.\u0026nbsp; She was warmer, wetter than any bitch before.\u0026nbsp; Maybe I was just paying more attention.\u0026nbsp; Her insides weren't tight, they didn't fight me inch by inch.\u0026nbsp; But once it was in, well and truly in, she squeezed all around me; first a gentle caress, then a blanketing wrap, then a lustful grip.\u0026nbsp; Her hips worked up and down, her spade stroked the whole of my length.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Big boy indeed.\"\u0026nbsp; She grinned wide, showed me some fang.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI gave it right back.\u0026nbsp; The thurst, the fang.\u0026nbsp; Even a snarl.\u0026nbsp; Must've looked more hungry than anything else.\u0026nbsp; Can't say I wasn't.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd all the while, her hand kept on the last little bit that hadn't yet gone in, what was gonna be my knot.\u0026nbsp; Telling me it was okay.\u0026nbsp; Telling me it was good.\u0026nbsp; Telling me to keep it in.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut she was my mom.\u0026nbsp; I was in her.\u0026nbsp; Fucking her.\u0026nbsp; Or, she was fucking me.\u0026nbsp; And if she didn't stop, she was gonna get that knot.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd she wasn't going to stop.\u0026nbsp; That's what I'd come for, why I'd come - she took knots.\u0026nbsp; And I was all wrapped up and ready.\u0026nbsp; She was gonna fuck 'til we tied, and then 'til I came.\u0026nbsp; Just like every other john getting their rocks off on the age gap.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe was good.\u0026nbsp; I was getting my rocks off, and fast.\u0026nbsp; Why was she so fucking good?\u0026nbsp; I mean, I knew.\u0026nbsp; She wouldn't still be doing it that long, in a room like that, if she wasn't god-fucking good.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt was there at the base of my cock, and almost as much at the tip.\u0026nbsp; The pressing.\u0026nbsp; The beating.\u0026nbsp; That itch at the back that needed her to scratch.\u0026nbsp; My knot wanted in.\u0026nbsp; She already had me close.\u0026nbsp; It hissed right out, \"Oh fuck, Mom!\"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI bit my tongue trying to take it back.\u0026nbsp; But she'd heard.\u0026nbsp; Her hips stopped.\u0026nbsp; My face burned beneath my fur, my heart banged so damn loud.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd then she said, a little softer, \"Aren't you a bad boy?\"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHer hips came up, she took me to the hilt, gave my itch her scratch.\u0026nbsp; Then her rhythm was back.\u0026nbsp; I looked down, and she wore this odd little grin.\u0026nbsp; It dawned on me - this wasn't the first time someone'd said something like that.\u0026nbsp; I was still just another john.\u0026nbsp; If also a perv.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Come on, baby, I know you've been wanting this.\"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHer words bit just right.\u0026nbsp; They made my shaft beat.\u0026nbsp; They made my heart race.\u0026nbsp; I smelled her on me, and I did want it.\u0026nbsp; My shame broke, instinct spilled through.\u0026nbsp; I grabbed her shoulders, thrust back in, sudden, hard.\u0026nbsp; It rippled through her, thighs to belly to chest; it rose through her throat and came out as a gasp.\u0026nbsp; Her paws went from me to the sheets, she dug her claws in.\u0026nbsp; I hilted again, rocked the whole bed, made her snarl with pleasure.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Bad... boy,\" she gasped out.\u0026nbsp; \"You're gonna-!\"\n\nMy tail curled between my legs, my hips shook with each good rut.\u0026nbsp; It itched so bad, that ring at my base, the start of my knot.\u0026nbsp; Popped it in, then out, then in again.\u0026nbsp; She gripped it at each pass.\u0026nbsp; Each time a little tighter, a litte harder, a little closer.\u0026nbsp; Almost, almost...\n\n\"Of fuckin' course,\" I snarled back, slammed in one more time, hilted and held.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI felt it swell.\u0026nbsp; I felt her clamp.\u0026nbsp; I felt it catch.\u0026nbsp; She clutched me, stroked me like she wanted my pups.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't not give them to her.\u0026nbsp; She was gonna make me cum.\u0026nbsp; I was gonna cum in her.\u0026nbsp; It was coming.\u0026nbsp; It was coming, it was, it...\u0026nbsp; \"Fuck, fuck-!\"\u0026nbsp; It bloomed in me, in her, all the way down.\u0026nbsp; A seed of heat at my tip, so ready to shoot.\u0026nbsp; Her pucker kissed me back.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Take it, Mom!\"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI shot and shot and shot.\u0026nbsp; The condom caught it, every drop.\u0026nbsp; I filled it inside her, right at her bottom.\u0026nbsp; And when I was done breeding, or something sorta-like, her hands uncurled from my waistfur.\u0026nbsp; I hadn't even felt her holding me in.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe was panting.\u0026nbsp; I was, too.\u0026nbsp; She rolled me onto bed along her side.\u0026nbsp; We lay, tied.\u0026nbsp; I put my arm over her.\u0026nbsp; She put hers to my belly.\u0026nbsp; There wasn't a thought in my head, but for that sharp little grin at the corner of her muzzle.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt was nice.\u0026nbsp; Until time came, and I had to untie.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI went back to the shower, stood under the water.\u0026nbsp; It was still hot.\u0026nbsp; Every bit of me was trying to shake.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe was my mom.\u0026nbsp; I was sure.\u0026nbsp; Dunno why, but fucking her'd convinced me.\u0026nbsp; And she was good.\u0026nbsp; Goddamn good.\u0026nbsp; Best I'd ever had.\u0026nbsp; Couldn't wait to do it again.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFreak.\u0026nbsp; Motherfucking freak.\u0026nbsp; That's what I was.\u0026nbsp; No, something even worse.\u0026nbsp; The longer I turned it over in my head, the harder it came to not think of doing more.\u0026nbsp; Taking it all the way.\u0026nbsp; Her cunt on my cock, nothing in between.\u0026nbsp; I wanted to fuck her raw.\u0026nbsp; I wanted to knot her bare.\u0026nbsp; I wanted to shoot it all inside and leave that wad in her.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI think I wanted to knock her up.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n  \n\n"}