{"sf1_id":2124587,"sf2_id":"zeR3DYm7","title":"How Ferals Are Made","author":"ABadChoiceofWords","words":2023,"posted_at":"2024-04-12T11:16:50.000Z","tags":["Aftercare","Anal","Ass","Balls","Bareback","Breeding","Creampie","Cum","Domination/Submission","Ejaculation","Feral","Flare","Gay","Impregnation","Infatuation","M/M","Male","Male Pregnancy","Male/Male","Mating","Messy","Orgasm","Scent","Size Difference","large insertion","mpreg","sniffing"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2124587-how-ferals-are-made","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/zeR3DYm7","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/fe/dc/fedc1e92-c156-490b-843c-d3d8f3d08658","description":"There's no substitute for firsthand experience.","content":"\"You like my scent, don't you?\"\n\nHe reeked!\u0026nbsp; I'd caught my first whiff from way across the room.\u0026nbsp; Everyone else had too, but they were all being polite.\u0026nbsp; Still, there were glances, and too many steps back.\u0026nbsp; And the whole party practically parted when he'd made his way over to me.\n\nFerals like him always smelled strong.\u0026nbsp; Most tried to hide it, so—fair's fair—the rest of us tried to hide our reactions.\u0026nbsp; This one, he didn't hide a damn thing, smell or sight.\u0026nbsp; Back and forth, side to side, all of it swung free between his legs where every soul couldn't help but see.\u0026nbsp; They still did their damnedest not to stare.\n\nBut me?\u0026nbsp; I stared.\u0026nbsp; I'd been staring.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't stop staring.\n\nHe'd seen it, seen me, all the way from the door.\u0026nbsp; Now his snout poked where my neck met jaw.\u0026nbsp; His nostrils, his fangs.\u0026nbsp; His tongue!\u0026nbsp; He was huge everywhere, just as tall on all fours as I was on my two.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"You want more?\"\n\nI think I did.\u0026nbsp; A lot of me did.\u0026nbsp; Other, more sensible bits didn't; not here, not in front of so many eyes.\u0026nbsp; But those bits were so, so small and his were so fuckin' big!\n\nHe pushed me, backed me to the hall.\u0026nbsp; Then down it, step by stumbling step.\u0026nbsp; Through an unlatched door.\u0026nbsp; Had he known it'd be open?\u0026nbsp; Would he've rutted me up it, if it'd been locked?\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis tail slapped it shut.\u0026nbsp; His tip flicked the latch.\u0026nbsp; And then we were alone, more or less.\u0026nbsp; The party kept on partying.\u0026nbsp; They'd hear us.\u0026nbsp; They'd have to.\u0026nbsp; Not that there was anything I could do about it.\u0026nbsp; Or wanted to.\n\nHe was long, down there.\u0026nbsp; I mean, most ferals have a bit of reach, for mounting and such, y'know?\u0026nbsp; But this thing pushed out past his belly, and more kept coming.\u0026nbsp; Also, girth—dear gods, he was thick!\u0026nbsp; Almost too much to fit both hands around, let alone anything else.\n\nAlmost.\n\nHis was tapered at the tip.\u0026nbsp; Big ol' bulbous spearhead that ended in a fat, jutting spout.\u0026nbsp; And from the sag of those even-more-bulbous balls beneath, he'd pump mammoth loads from it.\n\n\"You want it all.\"\n\nHe came on again, nudging and nuzzling and backing me across the room.\u0026nbsp; My rump hit the arm of a couch.\u0026nbsp; He took another step, put me up over it.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI'd been horny before.\u0026nbsp; Who hasn't?\u0026nbsp; But this-!\u0026nbsp; This was seeing him, smelling him, feeling him.\u0026nbsp; He had my insides hot and tight and trembling.\u0026nbsp; I was panting.\u0026nbsp; I was gasping!\u0026nbsp; It wasn't fear.\u0026nbsp; …most of it wasn't.\u0026nbsp; My knees shook, my thighs too—parting farther, farther, inch by wavering inch until I was spread for him.\u0026nbsp; His meat beat down between, and in that huffing breath I wanted my pants gone so it'd rest raw on my bare breeding hole.\n\nBreeding hole.\u0026nbsp; Not ass, not rump; it wasn't just the back way to my prostate, to be pounded for pleasure.\u0026nbsp; No, this was where a cock like his—hell, his alone!—was meant to go.\u0026nbsp; My hole'd been made for him.\u0026nbsp; I'd been made for him.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nMy hands went to my belt.\u0026nbsp; Then my button.\u0026nbsp; Then my zipper.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis foreclaw hooked the half-open front and tore my jeans wide.\u0026nbsp; He tugged those tatters down my knees, then ripped my underwear away.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't even care about them.\u0026nbsp; His big breeder flopped hide-to-skin across my cock and balls, and the belly of it beat, beat, beat against my hole.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe reeked!\u0026nbsp; That sour, salty stench of his sweaty male musk flooded over me.\u0026nbsp; My eyes met his tip, his spout.\u0026nbsp; It winked at me and sputtered something cloudy-clear.\n\nThose broad fores pressed to my shoulders and pushed me back along the couch until my tailbone perched atop its arm and his hips braced on mine.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"You want it raw.\"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI didn't, did I?\u0026nbsp; That was risky, dangerous.\u0026nbsp; I'd heard all the stories, everyone had.\u0026nbsp; Don't take a feral bare—no matter the hole, no matter your sex.\u0026nbsp; Wasn't sure I believed any of that.\u0026nbsp; I mean, I was definitely male.\u0026nbsp; How would that even…?\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut part of me did believe.\u0026nbsp; Fuckin' hell, it wanted that.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nWorse, the rest of me—the sane bits?—also didn't want to see him wrapping that thing up.\u0026nbsp; Hiding all that dribbling, throbbing glory in some ugly rubber?\u0026nbsp; No.\u0026nbsp; Fuck no!\u0026nbsp; Plus, finding one, getting it on—that'd take time, and not just a short bit for how much of him there was.\u0026nbsp; This couldn't wait.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't wait.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe couldn't, either.\u0026nbsp; And he didn't.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis hips rocked back and up, and his breeder slid down my front.\u0026nbsp; Gods, that cock!\u0026nbsp; His flare, his spout dragged back over mine—so small by compare.\u0026nbsp; Then across my sack; then his tip slipped beneath, between my legs.\u0026nbsp; He'd left a trail, musky-sweet, on me.\u0026nbsp; I drank it up.\u0026nbsp; My shaft danced.\u0026nbsp; He pushed his into me, filled my thigh-gap, kissed my pucker.\u0026nbsp; My pucker kissed him back.\n\nHis head came down on mine; his breath, hot on my face.\u0026nbsp; Spicy, meaty.\u0026nbsp; He swallowed, he rumbled.\u0026nbsp; Was he nervous, too?\u0026nbsp; No, couldn't be, not a beast like him, not with his spearhead already spreading the crack of my rump.\n\nSo I put my hands to his muzzle, his snout, his lips.\u0026nbsp; Thick fur—not quite shaggy, but more than enough to sink my fingers into.\u0026nbsp; He was so warm underneath, almost as much as the stuff his spout spread all over my sinkhole.\u0026nbsp; That drained down my crack, down my dangling tail.\u0026nbsp; Another gob lurched from his tip.\u0026nbsp; Then another.\u0026nbsp; Drip, drip, drip on the wood of the floor.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"You'll be mine after this.\"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe grinned.\u0026nbsp; Big.\u0026nbsp; Broad.\u0026nbsp; Full of fangs.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI didn't answer, just stared back into those yellow, slitted eyes.\u0026nbsp; So bright, so narrow, so sharp.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't hold back my shiver.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't hold back my moan.\n\n\"All.\u0026nbsp; Mine.\"\n\nHe pushed it in.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt wasn't a jerk or hump or thrust; it was one long, slow, steady press of his spear that pried my ass wider than I'd ever been and packed every inch full of him.\u0026nbsp; My legs bent, my arms.\u0026nbsp; I dug claws into the sofa, toes into their shoes.\u0026nbsp; He kept going, kept putting in more.\u0026nbsp; Fuck.\u0026nbsp; Fuck!\u0026nbsp; Might've been screaming, but my muzzle was buried in his chest.\u0026nbsp; He had all his weight on me, on my face, on everything of mine.\u0026nbsp; I could barely breathe through all that fur.\n\nIt wasn't really because of the fur.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis musk!\u0026nbsp; Every inch of him stank of sex.\u0026nbsp; And not just normal sex, on a bed or any other sofa—this was sweaty snarling sex, two beasts mad with rut, one about to fuck the other's brains out and a litter in.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nWas I beast, same as him?\u0026nbsp; Felt true.\u0026nbsp; Felt right.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd he knew.\u0026nbsp; Couldn't not.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"I'm going to make you a mother.\"\n\nThe first hump came slow, soft.\u0026nbsp; Then he pulled back, almost off of me.\u0026nbsp; The next came firmer, deeper.\u0026nbsp; He rocked away again, but his balls lingered on my tail.\u0026nbsp; The next, faster.\u0026nbsp; I still shook inside after he pulled back.\u0026nbsp; Next, harder.\u0026nbsp; His sack slapped the armrest, and those tremors went up my spine.\u0026nbsp; Deeper!\n\n\"You want that?\u0026nbsp; My seed?\u0026nbsp; My spawn?\n\nHis tongue dragged up my muzzle, all the way to the top of my head.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Hrrf—won't have to wait much longer.\"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe didn't say more.\u0026nbsp; He didn't have to.\u0026nbsp; His tip flared tight in my bowels; his base drummed on my prostate.\u0026nbsp; He pumped in, out, in, out.\u0026nbsp; Couldn't not know what was coming.\n\nThis is how ferals are made.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe shoved it in, stuffed it, held it longer.\u0026nbsp; It trembled.\u0026nbsp; He hissed, he snarled, he dragged it half out and shoved it back in.\u0026nbsp; His breeder's belly beat fast inside me, much faster than his blood.\u0026nbsp; Something splashed inside me, hot, wet.\u0026nbsp; He slammed it in, drove his fat flare far as he'd fit.\u0026nbsp; Then his whole length pumped, pumped, pumped!\u0026nbsp; It wasn't even wet—just a swelling, hot mass inside me growing from his spout, spreading out.\n\nHe was roaring; felt it though his chest, his breeder.\u0026nbsp; I roared right back and spat ropes into his bellyfur.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe didn't stop.\u0026nbsp; He didn't!\u0026nbsp; It just kept coming and coming, stuffing every inch of me and more.\u0026nbsp; How'd he have so much?\u0026nbsp; My belly ached, my hole, my legs.\u0026nbsp; And still more pumps, more heat, more him, more, more.\u0026nbsp; It gushed out of me, spattered on the floor, made a fuckin' mess.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nI don't remember his last shot.\u0026nbsp; I don't remember when his roaring stopped.\u0026nbsp; I do remember that big beating rod resting inside me, all warm and thick and seeping.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe'd done it.\u0026nbsp; Couldn't pretend he hadn't.\u0026nbsp; With that much?\u0026nbsp; Only question was how many of his whelps I'd be carrying.\u0026nbsp; Still didn't know how, but I could feel it taking.\n\nHis breathing came softer now, but that was all I could hear.\u0026nbsp; Nothing—not a single sound—seeped in through the door.\u0026nbsp; There'd been a party.\u0026nbsp; Was it over?\u0026nbsp; No.\u0026nbsp; Things'd just been starting, and what we'd done hadn't gone that long.\u0026nbsp; Had it?\u0026nbsp; No, no.\n\nEveryone out there was listening.\n\nBut it was fuzzy, trying to think about that, trying to be worried or scared or ashamed.\u0026nbsp; He purred, low.\u0026nbsp; It rumbled so soft all around me, and so firm inside.\u0026nbsp; This was good.\u0026nbsp; This was safe.\u0026nbsp; He was good and safe.\u0026nbsp; I could hide under his fur forever.\n\nThat wasn't true.\u0026nbsp; Not quite.\u0026nbsp; Not yet.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe gave a grunt, pushed up, pulled back.\u0026nbsp; My hole hung on, but bit by bit by little bit he dragged his breeder out.\u0026nbsp; It popped free, and a whole lot more something hit the floor.\u0026nbsp; I think my pants were down there.\u0026nbsp; Sure weren't hanging from my ankles anymore.\n\nHe sniffed at it, at me, my hole; huffed, trilled, snorted.\u0026nbsp; Then:\n\n\"I'll take you home.\"\n\nI think I nodded, tried to mumble 'yeah'.\n\nThat big, fuzzy body came around to my side, dipped down, and I rolled off the couch onto his shoulders and hips.\u0026nbsp; It wasn't so warm, not until I'd settled on and wriggled in.\u0026nbsp; Then, all that heat held under his fluff-!\u0026nbsp; I purred, a cub again—even more than I'd ever been.\n\nHe rose, turned about, took steps.\u0026nbsp; Stopped.\u0026nbsp; The latch clicked, just in front of us.\u0026nbsp; Its door moaned open.\u0026nbsp; He padded through to the hall, and kept on down to its end.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nThey had to be watching.\u0026nbsp; They had to be whispering.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't hear them.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't care.\u0026nbsp; His heart thumped loud, proud in my ear.\u0026nbsp; I pressed myself deeper until we were outside.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt was still chilly.\u0026nbsp; I think.\u0026nbsp; Hard to be sure, with how warm he was.\u0026nbsp; Made everything else feel like winter.\u0026nbsp; I didn't hate that, though.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe hit the street and turned left.\u0026nbsp; My place was somewhere right.\u0026nbsp; I hadn't told him where.\u0026nbsp; I hadn't told him my name.\u0026nbsp; \"We going to yours?\"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"We are.\"\n\nI wanted to see where he lived.\u0026nbsp; I wanted to ask him his name.\u0026nbsp; \"I think I need new pants.\"\n\n\"You do.\"\n\nHe sauntered along beneath me, father of my kids, and I didn't even know what to call him.\u0026nbsp; But it didn't feel the right time to ask.\u0026nbsp; Not yet.\u0026nbsp; What time was it?\u0026nbsp; Sun seemed dim, but his fur was too lovely to lift my head and check.\u0026nbsp; \"Gonna get hungry.\u0026nbsp; Didn't eat much before you… yeah.\"\n\n\"I cook.\"\n\n\"Oh?\"\u0026nbsp; That made a silly picture in my head: him, reared up over a stove, toiling with his fores.\u0026nbsp; Guess his kind didn't all just order out, or hunt, or whatever.\u0026nbsp; Well, if he was gonna make me dinner, I couldn't complain.\u0026nbsp; \"Got some good family recipes?\"\n\nHe nodded.\u0026nbsp; He purred.\n\n\"Can't wait to try 'em all.\"\u0026nbsp; I'd be eating for two.\u0026nbsp; Three?\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe purred louder.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nMade me want to drift off in his fluff.\u0026nbsp; \"Y'know what we should do after?\"\n\nHis shoulders shifted, his head tilted.\n\nI wiggled up him, stroked his neck, put lips to his ear.\u0026nbsp; \"You get back in me, and we make sure.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;"}