A Rutting In Russet [Commission]

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An anonymous commission.


A dull-clawed paw descends, without a sound reaching the perked ears of the huntress listening for any noise that might betray her. Another step closer to her prey, foraging busily along the forest floor, unaware that death was now just a little closer. Laia always took hunting seriously. Back when she was little more than a pup she would sometimes approach impatiently, because a chase through the woods was still a new and exhilarating thing. But with age comes patience and now hunt was a meticulous endeavor meant to end swiftly and bring the reward of warm, nourishing meat.

Not that she was starving. Anyone keen-eyed enough to notice the prowling wolfess would have seen the vitality of the undeniably sleek form. No bone showed in neither chest nor hip, her back was straight and muscular, the powerful predator's body covered in a lustrous fur that spoke of a creature unaccustomed to missing meals, but one that _always_ran its prey down, feeding on fresh meat rather than scavenging the leavings of others.

Her chosen quarry wasn't all that impressive - a hare grown soft and fat this late in the summer. When hunting with her pack, Laia had helped run down boars and stags, and had once even closed her maw on the throat of an old bear who'd claimed the lives of two less successful hunters. The ball of fluff gorging itself on clover flowers was no challenge, but the sight of it was enough to make the cunning bitch salivate. She raised her other paw, determined to get a few more steps closer before she pounced. She wanted a meal, not a chase, so there was no need to give the rabbit a chance to bolt.

The plump lapine would satisfy one hunger, and once it was done Laia knew she'd need to ponder what to do about a different craving. Even though she was focused on her task, she could feel the heat emanating from her loins, instinct making its demands on her mind. But unlike the base animals such as the prey she hunted, the wolfess was no common beast. Every pup learned about his or her lineage from their mothers, a pedigree that reached back into the dawn times when gods wishing to protect the wilderness had seeded the forests with wolves like her.

Possessed of the same speed and strength of feral lupines, Laia boasted a keen intellect that made sure she could never be easily trapped and that man or hound could never track her down. It also meant instinct was an urge, rather than a command. Females of her pack were the guardians of a noble lineage, and didn't lift her tails just to sate a need. Prospective sires were carefully considered, and it wasn't uncommon for a wolfess to let an estrus go by if she didn't find a worthy mate. The muzzle of a pack-sister could always provide release if her own failed to do so.

But she felt like this was a good year to mate. The spring had been quick to arrive, prey have bred the way they always did, ensuring plenty of food for nursing lupine mothers. And the males had, as always, been quite attentive even a few days before she'd entered her heat. A few of those she'd mated with before, but also some hoping for the honor. A scrap of her attention drifted towards a particularly handsome young male. Inexperienced, but a superb specimen just come into his strength. Certainly better off with an experienced and patient bitch like herself for his first time...

A rustle reached her ears, making them swivel as a paw remained hanging in the air, her whole body tense. Something behind her, small and furtive. Not one of her kind, of course. No pack-mate would be so uncouth as to interrupt her hunt. And just as she was downwind of her prey, the intruder was downwind of her. They should have been able to smell her even without the breeze carrying the musk of her heat.

The lapine ears had also perked, the plump furry body tensing. Frustration and anger welled up in Laia's mind at the audacity of the intruder, but she dared not let out a growl when it was sure to launch the hare into panicked flight. If the interloper had remained still and silent, the wolfess would have stood a chance, but who and whatever it was made its way through the bushes, finally making enough noise to make the hare disregard the appetizing vegetation and bolt.

Laia didn't bother pursuing it. This was supposed to be a quick and easy kill, and she wasn't about to demean herself by chasing something as small as a hare through the forest. The intruder, on the other hand, was another matter. Her heckles rose and her tail bristled as she turned to face the presumptuous creature. Her eyes fixed on a fox, or rather a tod judging by the smell of him. A dumb feral animal sniffing curiously, unaware of the inconvenience he'd caused her.

So much for the supposed cleverness of foxes... she thought as she growled, low and menacing. The vulpine ears perked and a shiver ran down its spine, the russet male folding his ears and lowering its tail. A submissive gesture, an acknowledgement of her superior strength, but not the reaction she was expecting. Foxes generally gave her kind a wide berth, and seeing her irate should have sent the rusty-furred male bolting as quickly as that hare. But despite his submissive posture, he was actually trying to approach, his nostrils flaring and his muzzle lifting to sniff the air.

It didn't take Laia long to realize just what the fox was sniffing at. It wasn't the same plump lapine that she'd been stalking, but rather the scent of her own heat, as evidenced by the flash of glistening red against the creamy fur of the tod's underside. The display might have been comical if Laia had been in a better mood, but now it merely pushed her from irritated into full outrage. How dare this little male? She wouldn't have considered the advances of a feral wolf, and this was not only a dumb beast but a measly fox!

It was a mistake to anger a hungry wolf, and Laia intended to make the little orange rat realize just how big a mistake he'd made. But the tod had read her body language, and the fact that she was in heat wasn't enough for him to ignore the tensing of the lupine limbs that meant she was ready to pounce. Foxes, while carnivorous were hardly a predator in the wolfess' opinion, as evidenced by the fact that the smaller male immediately bolted, never even considering a fight. And while it was beneath her to chase something so small, she felt like the male her offended her personally and wanted satisfaction.

The difference in size and the length she could cover in a single bound should have spelled the end for the amorous fox, but size had disadvantages too. The rusty-colored male knew the little trails and passages he could slip through but that Laia either had to leap over, crash through or go around. Birdsong faded around them, an eerie silence gripping the forest marred only by the sound of lungs working hard and old dead leaves being torn up and scattered by scrambling claws.

The longer the chase lasted, the hungrier and by extension angrier Laia got. She might have been satisfied with merely mauling the tod if shed caught him sooner, but now she wanted his blood for putting her through this after scaring away her meal. Foxes weren't appetizing, certainly not enough to be worth the trouble of hunting them, but just remembering the way the little cur had dared sniff the air around her and refused to run away the moment she growled was enough to make the lupine bitch bare her teeth.

Her ears folded back against her head and her lungs working like a bellows, she managed to keep up with the wily tod until one obstacle forced her to slow. A large, half-rotten tree limb, arched just enough to let the small male slip under it but a tight fit for her. Laia considered leaping over it but recognized the thick mass of vines that had overgrown the fallen branch. It was covered in thorns, tiny ones but enough to make the mess tangle in her fur, and the berries it bore would leave red stains on her fur that no amount of grooming could clean up.

She couldn't jump over it and if she tried growing around the fox would be long gone. Had she been chasing the hare from earlier she'd have called off pursuit, but anger and injured pride drove her onward, into a desperate slide under the arched tree limb. Her head went through easily, as did her forepaws, but Laia had to struggle to get the rest through. As she wriggled she could feel the rough old bark against her shoulder blades, and considered pulling back and calling it off when a crack sounded and the weight of the wolf rested on her back.

A branch, or a piece of one must have been keeping the heavy limb off the ground, but her attempts to wriggle under it had moved the thing around enough that rotten wood gave out. The weight resting just below the base of her neck kept her forepaws and her head pinned to the forest floor, and to make matters worse the clingy, thorny vines had been shaken loose and were now draped around her neck and back, making it harder for her to get out.

Laia growled in frustration at what her day had turned into. First she missed out on a meal, then she failed to get even with the rust colored wretch who was responsible, and now by the time she got free her back would be aching, prickly fines would be tangled in her fur and her creamy, fluffy front would be a mess once she was done wriggling against rotten leaves and dirt. And the offending fox would be long gone...

The wolfess became less certain about the last part when her ears caught the unmistakable sounds of sniffing from behind her. Her ears swiveled in the direction, even though she couldn't hear if it was the tod behind her. But chasing after him she'd caught his scent in case she had to resort to tracking the runt and a few sniffs of her own keen nose told her it was him. The audacity! The fox was only alive due to freak chance and instead of putting as much distance between himself and the ferocious predator, he was now behind her, once again sniffing...

It was only when she _felt_the huffs and puffs rather than merely hearing them that Laia realized what had won over both common sense and the survival instinct. She was in heat, with her rear in the air and her head down, the sort of submissive posture she hadn't adopted since her first mating. And that had been for a magnificent male of her own pack, a proud and confident sire who could inspire such behavior in an eager and impressionable young bitch. He wasn't some rust-tailed runt with ideas above his station!

Folding her eras against her head the wolfess flagged her tail down and growled, a sound that would have terrified a boar or a proud old stag, let alone a measly fox. But the tod wasn't stupid, despite being a common beast. He would still be winded from the chase, and would know that if Laia could have attacked him she would have done so without a growl of warning. The sinister rumble ended in a sharp, high bark when the trapped wolfess felt a slender muzzle slip under and then behind her tail, the huffs of the fox feeling cool at first until his nose was close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath against her swollen sex.

_Not even a runt!_she thought in disgust. At this moment she would have gladly lifted her tail for the scrawniest, dimmest male in her pack if it meant not having to endure having a common animal examining her like this. And despite her not being a vixen, her smell must have been close enough to make the tod curious about her taste. The tongue flicked out and the wolfess' whole body tensed, her heckles bristling against the rough bark of the branch keeping her a prisoner. She renewed her efforts, thrashing around as best as she could even though she knew it wasn't the smart thing to do. She should have been saving her strength and suing her wits to get out, but she was now in a panic.

Even though the fox was no more than a meager meal for her, with the tree limb pining her she was helpless, and the size of her sleek lupine body or the strength of her jaws was meaningless. For all she knew the fox might think she wanted to mate but was merely reluctant. Not that it would matter to him. No male of her own kind would dream of taking a botch against her will, because even if he managed to overpower her and perform the deed, he'd not survive the wrath of the pack turned against him. Thus no female she knew of had ever worried about being taken by force.

Which was not to say it didn't happen. She's seen it often enough - the does, the sows, and even the vixens, driven to seek a male by the fire burning in their loins and powerless to do anything once the male in question mounted them and took what he wanted, any way he wanted it, no matter the struggles of his partner or the pained bleats, barks and yelps. And any hope she had that the male would somehow decide she didn't smell right were gone when she felt the lupine tongue push against her sex.

A whine was forced from her throat, such a pitiful noise that Laia couldn't believe she'd made it. She clamped her tail down harder after the first lick, but the tod's head was under it now and if anything she was keeping him pressed against her femininity. The dark spade would be slightly swollen from her heat, and twice as sensitive as it normally was. Even though she couldn't see it she could feel the soft, velvety flesh smooshed every time the tongue pressed against it, sliding along the lupine sex as the male behind her got his first taste of a wolfess.

Laia was hardly unaccustomed to feeling a tongue against her sex. She licked her own as part of grooming and sometimes just relief, and there were a few pack-sisters she could turn to during those heats she failed to find a worthy mate, the same wolfesses who could expect the same favor from her. But she could tell by the motion of the tongue that it was not only a male back there, but a feral one. There was no technique, no attempt to read her body and bring her to blissful release. The fox was just lapping away at the spade, as if he was starving for the now steady trickle of lupine nectar leaking from it.

And when she was clean he started pushing his tongue in, desperate for more. His smaller size was working in his favor, since the narrow vulpine muzzle seemed better suited to press against the wolfess' Y-shaped folds, and the narrower tongue was easily dipping into her sweltering sex, over and over as if he was lapping water from a stream.

Her panicked thrashing had accomplished nothing but to exhaust her, which only added to her feeling of unease. Laia had never truly been afraid, even when she leaped for the throat of the enraged old bruin who'd just killed a pair of her pack-mates. She'd leaped at death, but at the time she was death, a snarling predator homing in for the kill. In the moment her teeth had found its throat, the beast many tomes bigger and stronger than herself had feared her.

And now the feeling of unease grew into dread at the thought of what she might suffer at the hands of this fox! If he could think further than pushing his head under her tail, the tod could have killed her. Her throat might be pressed against the ground but it was merely the most convenient weak point, after all. But she was safe from that, at least. He wouldn't seriously harm a fertile female. He wouldn't kill his...

Mate!

The thought stole the breath from Laia's lungs as the relief of having the muzzle removed from her sex was replaced by the same muzzle resting on her haunches. A second later the tod launched himself, scrabbling along the powerful lupine body in a disgusting parody of a true wolf mounting his bitch. The first thing to hit Laia was almost nonsensical, but it was the notion of how wrong this felt. The head had stopped too soon and couldn't have reached her scruff even if there wasn't a cumbersome branch resting on it. The paws grasping her waist didn't reach far enough down, and the wolfess wound herself wincing as the tod's dull claws scratched against the teats hidden in the soft, creamy fur.

It was so wrong that for a moment she allowed herself to hope he was too small for her to do what he was obviously trying to do. But her hope only lived until the tod managed to poke the hard, spurting tip of his vulpine cock against a spot just below her spade. Whimpering pitifully, Laia tried to lift her haunches higher but with head and chest held against the ground it was too painful and she was forced to go back to keeping her legs slightly splayed and her rear end low enough to put her at risk of being penetrated by the randy fox.

His motion was bestial, a constant and unwelcome reminder that a creature as noble as herself was about to be taken by a common animal. A male of her pack would have needed only a few cautious pokes to find the center of her spade, even the young one she'd had her eye on. But there was no patience in the humping tod, no concern for her comfort as he jabbed his boned cock against her rear, making her wince and whimper on those occasions when he struck her sex but failed to sheathe himself. It took almost a minute of wild stabs until he shifted a little climbing higher on Laia's back before giving it another try. His next thrust had poked her swollen sex dead center, and the one after that pushed several inches of hard, smooth fox-meat into her.

As pitiful as Laia's whine was it failed to convey the disgust and anguish she felt as the vulpine member spread her open, the tod on her back making happy noises now that he had her where he wanted her. She almost prayed to the gods who'd set her kind to guarding these woods for one of her pack-mates to show up and tear the russet rapist off her, but the idea of one of her kind seeing her like this, with a wild animal breeding her like it had every right to sickened her.

It was unreasonable, she knew since she would more than likely wind up with a littler of small, orange-furred pups and everyone would be able to guess who or what had sired them. She was in the full of her heat, and no mating at such a time had ever failed to result in her belly swelling with the unmistakable sign of motherhood. It wasn't a wolf mounting her, but foxes and dogs were near enough. Even her body seemed to be fooled. The weight resting on her was all wrong, the smells, and the sounds of her mate, but the shaft stabbing away at her was smooth and glistening, the steady leak of it a familiar thing, one that eased the roughness of a good mating. And as the vulpine length fully unsheathed, she even felt a knot, a small wretched little lump that would probably still grow big enough to seal her sex and seal her fate.

There was a female response to the male's actions that she couldn't suppress, and her own traitorous body disgusted her as much as the tod murring and yipping on her back. He was gripping her as hard as he could, dull claws poking into the soft flesh of her belly hidden by the creamy fluff of her fur. Not that she could get away, but the wretched male seed determined to get as close to her as he could.

His efforts proved successful and soon Laia was feeling his knot slip in and out of her spade with every wild, bestial thrust. Even that felt wrong - a hard, lumpy mass that went in and out of her too easily. Even so, a male of her kind wouldn't have slid it in at this point, trying instead to push in and out for as long as he could to ensure they were both at their limits by the time the gland was ready to tie them together.

If a wolf had been doing this to her she'd be in agony by now, but even if she were in a mood to try she couldn't feel grateful for her rapist's relatively humble endowments. The size of her mate and the awkward angle made her hopeful that the tod might yet slip out and fail to successfully mount again. Maybe he would grow hungry or tired and finally leave her without pumping his vile seed into her fertile womb.

But she could tell that while she was undoubtedly his first wolf, she wasn't the tod's first mate. As instinctively savage as his tempo was he was careful to stick as close to her as possible, and to pull out only far enough to provide him with the sensations driving him to keep rutting her. The shaft had swollen fully, meager compared to a wolf but the vigor of the mating was providing Laia's body with stimulation that her mind detested but her body welcomed.

The knot was still growing, sinking in with more difficulty on every thrust and starting to tug painfully every time it was yanked out without regard for her. And apart from feeling the pain of having it slip in and out she couldn't block out the lewd noises the thing made. There was a mess inside her already -partly hers and partly the tod's- and every time the bulge slipped in it pushed some of the mess out. After a minute of such rutting all she could smell was her own heat and the sharp musk of a feral male breeding her.

She knew she could at least spare herself the pain of having the vulpine gland batter and tug away at her pussy sex. If she clenched up back there next time he buried himself, she was certain she could keep him in. But just the idea of doing something like that raised a fresh wave of disgust, even though she'd done it before. When she had a fine, virile wolf on top of her, she'd clamp down on him once he was in, taking a certain pride at the lusty growl this would always coax from her stud. It was a sign, very unsubtle, that she wanted him in every way, that she wanted everything he could give her. But she didn't want this fox and she most certainly didn't want a load of vulpine seed and a litter of half-breed pups it was sure to give her!

She still hoped that he might fail to tie... maybe he'd wait too long and the knot would swell outside of her messy spade. A wolf who waited too long to tie ran that risk, but the fox wasn't as well endowed. Even now it wasn't sinking in on every thrust, nor getting yanked out every time the male tried to withdraw from her. The next time he managed the wolfess couldn't stop from whimpering, feeling her puffy spade cling to the hard masculine mass before it was ripped from her. The next thrust failed to drive it in, and the next, causing her pain but allowing her to hope. He would still finish inside her, but without a tie she had a chance of avoiding...

A loud yelp was torn from her throat, stars dancing in the corners of her vision as pain stabbed between her legs, with dread following soon after. For a moment everything faded from Laia's mind - the ache in her neck, the weight of the branch laying across her shoulders, the stab of the tod's claws against her belly and even the ache of a fully formed knot forcing its way past her already battered spade.

Heat spread through her, a different kind than the one she'd been experiencing the past few days. The familiar rhythm within her body - the throb of the knot, the twitch of the shaft and finally the spray of warm seed into her depths. Even now there was no mistaking it for a wolf. A lupine male's tip would be nested against the barrier to her womb, poking into that spot so deep inside her she only ever felt it when a smooth, lupine length was pressed against it.

She could feel her traitorous body respond, even if disgust and anguish kept her from achieving release. With every flex of the tod the silken walls of her sex would contract, squeezing his knot and caressing his shaft, an instinctive effort to draw as much of the male's seed as deep as she could. The male on her back was still trying to hump against her, a crazed instinctive motion that made no sense. He wasn't going anywhere, not for a while, not even if he'd wanted to. The knot was much smaller than a wolf, something she could clearly feel now that it was staying relatively still inside her. A worthy sire would have been gentler and the pleasant soreness that would linger would not be from the force of his mating but from the sheer size of his member swelling within her, a virile male pushing her body to its limits as he seeded her.

Laia whimpered in utter desperation and defeat, her fat sealed as surely as her sex was. For all his small size the male was virile, the flow of lupine seed sickeningly steady as he filled her with everything he had. He'd stopped his futile humping and a moment later Laia felt the hard, swollen mass inside her shift and twist as the tod dismounted. Stupid, wretched, dumb beast! she growled impotently, knowing that this was the way feral canids. Not for them the joy of the afterglow, no nuzzling their mate's neck, no tender nips of the ears or hot huffs against the female's scruff. He got what he wanted from her. As far as he was concerned the mating was over, even though Laia could now not only feel the surge of his cum into her but the twitch of his sack against her tail-hole.

The small size of his shaft meant the tie didn't last long. The moment the loathsome male felt the mess he'd made gush out from the lupine sex he scrabbled forward and yanked his knot out, the rest of his cum-slicked length following until there was nothing but feral vulpine seed left in the wolfess. Thoroughly defeated, Laia let her haunches fall to the ground, sickened by the trickle of the tod's seed from her sore spade. She used what little strength she had to tense up, to try and expel as much of the vile slime from her body, but even though she managed to make a mess of her fur she knew there was no hope. It had gone deep, pushed by sheer pressure someplace it couldn't leak from and where a cleansing tongue couldn't reach.

She knew what would happen now, but for the first time in her life Laia was dreading motherhood. Every time mating had left her with a profound sense of fulfillment, as well as a more carnal satisfaction, but in spite of its betrayal her body was left unsatisfied by her feral mate and herm mind left with nothing but dread. She was tired, sore, used thoroughly by a male barely worth of being her meal, let alone a sire to her pups!

The wolfess laid slumped down, trying to gather up the will to get back on her paws and try to wriggle free of the trap that had sealed her fate. She could hear little from the beat of her own heart in her ears, and smell nothing but the reek of heat and seed, usually a pleasant mixture that now very nearly turned her stomach. She'd been sure she had time now, time to herself to wallow in pity until she grew tired of it, but a nose poking under her tail made her rethink that. The damned fox hadn't left and after all he'd put her through was still putting his muzzle where it didn't belong.

Laia thought that maybe the male was admiring his handiwork, but when he slipped his tongue out to brush against her sore spade, she realized it wasn't the case. Her efforts to expel his seed had made a mess back there, enough to convince the feral vulpine that there wasn't enough left inside. A second lick followed the first, and then a third. By the time the tod was licking steadily Laia was whimpering in despair, suspecting that the rust-furred wretch wasn't interested in making her clean.

When he mounted up her suspicions were confirmed, but Laia had had enough. She left her rear on the ground and her tail flagged, hoping the tod would take the hint and leave. But the fox was chuffing and huffing on top of her, griping her waist and trying to once again stab his cock into that soft, warm spade. The wolfess was determined to make it difficult for him but when the hard, jabbing tip struck just under her tail a few times she realized there might be a high price to pay for her passive resistance.

The next jab hit dead center and managed to sink an inch or so into the pink pucker that had never taken a male before. Even the tiny tip of the fox's member hurt, and the wolfess didn't want to imagine what it would feel like to have her tail rutted and knotted. She might have considered it before, accepting searing pain if it meant keeping her womb free of a feral's seed, but with the damage already done all she'd accomplish by remaining on the ground would be to experience a brand new kind of agony and humiliation.

The tod was an experienced stud and she remembered how it had taken one lucky poke against the middle of her spade for him to sheathe his cock firmly inside. Desperate not to have the same repeat the wolfess swiftly lifted her rear as high as she could without arching her back to the point of pain. The tod gave a surprised yip, but his hold on her remained firm, his jabbing still frantic as if he hadn't just emptied himself within her. He stabbed again and Laia was almost relieved when the tip struck her spade just left of the Y-shaped center.

The tod had licked her clean but she was still leaking steadily, and when he felt the wetness of his slimy seed he knew he'd found his mark. The sound it made as it sunk in was obscene, a lurid wet noise of vulpine cum being forced out by the reentry of the smooth red shaft. No wolf would mount a bitch so soon, even if he did have the desire and stamina to do so. The bitch chose when mating would happen, and even though Laia herself had went back to her chosen sire the next day if she wanted to make sure, it took a day for her body to recover.

Everything back there was too slippery and too lose, the slim knot already dipping in and out of her and only serving to make the mess worse. Her mind exhausted, the once proud wolfess was finding it hard to ignore her body's reactions. The male had failed to satisfy her the first time round, mostly because she'd fought the idea of climaxing from such a humiliating act. Her disgust was dwindling along with her strength, and even if she could resist release once again, she didn't see the point in trying. The damage was done, after all.

It's not him on my back. It's that young one, inexperienced and thrusting wildly...

It was a farcical fantasy, given the weight of her violator and the modest vulpine endowments, but it made this easier for Laia. To forget for a moment what was being done to her, and what she had to look forward to when the time came for her to whelp. She'd just let her body react the way it needed to, the way it always responded to a male.

Folding her ears against her head, the wolfess tried to relax, to focus on the act rather than her mate. There were familiar things - the sensation of the tip grazing her velvety walls, the heat of both friction and another living body invading her own. The throb of the length, reminding her it was a living thing made of flesh in spite of being as hard as bone or tusk. Some muscles in her body relaxed, while others took on a life of their own, flexing and loosening without a mind guiding the actions.

She could feel the way her spade was winking around the invader, the puffy and sore lupine sex relishing a male in spite of the discomfort of another savage rutting so soon after her first one. Things were welling up within her, her powerful chest swelling with each deep, desperate breath. She did her best to replace the wrong details with her flimsy fantasy - imagining a heavier body on top of her own, stronger paws gripping her haunches in a firm mating hold.

The knot began to swell, still sliding freely in and out of her sloppy sex. It would be a while but with her spade this slick she knew it wouldn't fail to sink in no matter how big it got. No reason to fear it anymore - she was already carrying enough to seal her fate. She would just give her body what it needed now, what her heat demanded. The sounds leaving her muzzle were different now, plaintive and lacking in pain and alarm. It made no difference to the animal mounting her. He didn't care if he was hurting her - he was doing what instinct demanded, breeding a female his nose told him was fertile and who was letting him do it.

Her whines rose in pitch, her breathing and pulse quickening as pleasure mounted enough to overshadow humiliation and shame. The knot was big now, and once again painful, but now it was a welcome hurt. Now she wasn't dreading the tie, she was anticipating it. Eager for it! Old habits had surfaced and she was holding herself back, waiting for the moment her mate's shaft was firmly stuck in her body to allow herself the blissful rapture of release.

Her hindlegs trembled from every thrust, her dark spade dimpling under the force until the knot pushed in and the lupine sex closed around it. On and on, jab after tug it went until one of the tod's pulls splayed her sex but failed to yank the knot out.

The engorged mass throbbed against the most sensitive parts of her sex and the wolfess' cunny clamped down on it, the walls of her sex molding themselves around the vulpine member tight enough to make it feel like something more substantial. Another tug, another little jolt of pain that was no longer distinct from pleasure in Laia's mind. It was the wrong kind of male but it was a male inside her, locked firmly and securely by the lupine spade now clenching frantically around the slim base, her entire sex quivering and pulsing as she finally surrendered to instinct. Laia thankfully stopped herself from howling out her climax, unwilling to let anyone witness something this debased. She was cumming as fiercely as ever, her walls milking the shaft until it coaxed out another torrent of detestable but still welcome vulpine spunk.

She rode her climax, her heartbeat slowing to match the rhythm of her spade's pulsing and the throbs of the vulpine cock once again seeding her. She could hear the tod panting on top of her and doubted he'd have a third go in him. If he was smart he'd get as far as he could before Laia collected herself and free herself from her trap. After that she would clean, and rest and...

That as far as she was willing to think. For now she'd savor the soreness, the fullness, and the moment she couldn't help but feel was perfect in spite of the male resting on her back...