# How Ferals Are Made

Author: ABadChoiceofWords
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

There's no substitute for firsthand experience.

"You like my scent, don't you?"

He reeked!&nbsp; I'd caught my first whiff from way across the room.&nbsp; Everyone else had too, but they were all being polite.&nbsp; Still, there were glances, and too many steps back.&nbsp; And the whole party practically parted when he'd made his way over to me.

Ferals like him always smelled strong.&nbsp; Most tried to hide it, so—fair's fair—the rest of us tried to hide our reactions.&nbsp; This one, he didn't hide a damn thing, smell or sight.&nbsp; Back and forth, side to side, all of it swung free between his legs where every soul couldn't help but see.&nbsp; They still did their damnedest not to stare.

But me?&nbsp; I stared.&nbsp; I'd been staring.&nbsp; I couldn't stop staring.

He'd seen it, seen me, all the way from the door.&nbsp; Now his snout poked where my neck met jaw.&nbsp; His nostrils, his fangs.&nbsp; His tongue!&nbsp; He was huge everywhere, just as tall on all fours as I was on my two.&nbsp;&nbsp;

"You want more?"

I think I did.&nbsp; A lot of me did.&nbsp; Other, more sensible bits didn't; not here, not in front of so many eyes.&nbsp; But those bits were so, so small and his were so fuckin' big!

He pushed me, backed me to the hall.&nbsp; Then down it, step by stumbling step.&nbsp; Through an unlatched door.&nbsp; Had he known it'd be open?&nbsp; Would he've rutted me up it, if it'd been locked?&nbsp;&nbsp;

His tail slapped it shut.&nbsp; His tip flicked the latch.&nbsp; And then we were alone, more or less.&nbsp; The party kept on partying.&nbsp; They'd hear us.&nbsp; They'd have to.&nbsp; Not that there was anything I could do about it.&nbsp; Or wanted to.

He was long, down there.&nbsp; I mean, most ferals have a bit of reach, for mounting and such, y'know?&nbsp; But this thing pushed out past his belly, and more kept coming.&nbsp; Also, girth—dear gods, he was thick!&nbsp; Almost too much to fit both hands around, let alone anything else.

Almost.

His was tapered at the tip.&nbsp; Big ol' bulbous spearhead that ended in a fat, jutting spout.&nbsp; And from the sag of those even-more-bulbous balls beneath, he'd pump mammoth loads from it.

"You want it all."

He came on again, nudging and nuzzling and backing me across the room.&nbsp; My rump hit the arm of a couch.&nbsp; He took another step, put me up over it.&nbsp;&nbsp;

I'd been horny before.&nbsp; Who hasn't?&nbsp; But this-!&nbsp; This was seeing him, smelling him, feeling him.&nbsp; He had my insides hot and tight and trembling.&nbsp; I was panting.&nbsp; I was gasping!&nbsp; It wasn't fear.&nbsp; …most of it wasn't.&nbsp; My knees shook, my thighs too—parting farther, farther, inch by wavering inch until I was spread for him.&nbsp; 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.

Breeding hole.&nbsp; Not ass, not rump; it wasn't just the back way to my prostate, to be pounded for pleasure.&nbsp; No, this was where a cock like his—hell, his alone!—was meant to go.&nbsp; My hole'd been made for him.&nbsp; I'd been made for him.&nbsp;&nbsp;

My hands went to my belt.&nbsp; Then my button.&nbsp; Then my zipper.&nbsp;&nbsp;

His foreclaw hooked the half-open front and tore my jeans wide.&nbsp; He tugged those tatters down my knees, then ripped my underwear away.&nbsp; I couldn't even care about them.&nbsp; His big breeder flopped hide-to-skin across my cock and balls, and the belly of it beat, beat, beat against my hole.&nbsp;&nbsp;

He reeked!&nbsp; That sour, salty stench of his sweaty male musk flooded over me.&nbsp; My eyes met his tip, his spout.&nbsp; It winked at me and sputtered something cloudy-clear.

Those 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.&nbsp;&nbsp;

"You want it raw."&nbsp;&nbsp;

I didn't, did I?&nbsp; That was risky, dangerous.&nbsp; I'd heard all the stories, everyone had.&nbsp; Don't take a feral bare—no matter the hole, no matter your sex.&nbsp; Wasn't sure I believed any of that.&nbsp; I mean, I was definitely male.&nbsp; How would that even…?&nbsp;&nbsp;

But part of me did believe.&nbsp; Fuckin' hell, it wanted that.&nbsp;&nbsp;

Worse, the rest of me—the sane bits?—also didn't want to see him wrapping that thing up.&nbsp; Hiding all that dribbling, throbbing glory in some ugly rubber?&nbsp; No.&nbsp; Fuck no!&nbsp; Plus, finding one, getting it on—that'd take time, and not just a short bit for how much of him there was.&nbsp; This couldn't wait.&nbsp; I couldn't wait.&nbsp;&nbsp;

He couldn't, either.&nbsp; And he didn't.&nbsp;&nbsp;

His hips rocked back and up, and his breeder slid down my front.&nbsp; Gods, that cock!&nbsp; His flare, his spout dragged back over mine—so small by compare.&nbsp; Then across my sack; then his tip slipped beneath, between my legs.&nbsp; He'd left a trail, musky-sweet, on me.&nbsp; I drank it up.&nbsp; My shaft danced.&nbsp; He pushed his into me, filled my thigh-gap, kissed my pucker.&nbsp; My pucker kissed him back.

His head came down on mine; his breath, hot on my face.&nbsp; Spicy, meaty.&nbsp; He swallowed, he rumbled.&nbsp; Was he nervous, too?&nbsp; No, couldn't be, not a beast like him, not with his spearhead already spreading the crack of my rump.

So I put my hands to his muzzle, his snout, his lips.&nbsp; Thick fur—not quite shaggy, but more than enough to sink my fingers into.&nbsp; He was so warm underneath, almost as much as the stuff his spout spread all over my sinkhole.&nbsp; That drained down my crack, down my dangling tail.&nbsp; Another gob lurched from his tip.&nbsp; Then another.&nbsp; Drip, drip, drip on the wood of the floor.&nbsp;&nbsp;

"You'll be mine after this."&nbsp;&nbsp;

He grinned.&nbsp; Big.&nbsp; Broad.&nbsp; Full of fangs.&nbsp;

I didn't answer, just stared back into those yellow, slitted eyes.&nbsp; So bright, so narrow, so sharp.&nbsp; I couldn't hold back my shiver.&nbsp; I couldn't hold back my moan.

"All.&nbsp; Mine."

He pushed it in.&nbsp;&nbsp;

It 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.&nbsp; My legs bent, my arms.&nbsp; I dug claws into the sofa, toes into their shoes.&nbsp; He kept going, kept putting in more.&nbsp; Fuck.&nbsp; Fuck!&nbsp; Might've been screaming, but my muzzle was buried in his chest.&nbsp; He had all his weight on me, on my face, on everything of mine.&nbsp; I could barely breathe through all that fur.

It wasn't really because of the fur.&nbsp;&nbsp;

His musk!&nbsp; Every inch of him stank of sex.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;&nbsp;

Was I beast, same as him?&nbsp; Felt true.&nbsp; Felt right.&nbsp;&nbsp;

And he knew.&nbsp; Couldn't not.&nbsp;&nbsp;

"I'm going to make you a mother."

The first hump came slow, soft.&nbsp; Then he pulled back, almost off of me.&nbsp; The next came firmer, deeper.&nbsp; He rocked away again, but his balls lingered on my tail.&nbsp; The next, faster.&nbsp; I still shook inside after he pulled back.&nbsp; Next, harder.&nbsp; His sack slapped the armrest, and those tremors went up my spine.&nbsp; Deeper!

"You want that?&nbsp; My seed?&nbsp; My spawn?

His tongue dragged up my muzzle, all the way to the top of my head.&nbsp;&nbsp;

"Hrrf—won't have to wait much longer."&nbsp;&nbsp;

He didn't say more.&nbsp; He didn't have to.&nbsp; His tip flared tight in my bowels; his base drummed on my prostate.&nbsp; He pumped in, out, in, out.&nbsp; Couldn't not know what was coming.

This is how ferals are made.&nbsp;&nbsp;

He shoved it in, stuffed it, held it longer.&nbsp; It trembled.&nbsp; He hissed, he snarled, he dragged it half out and shoved it back in.&nbsp; His breeder's belly beat fast inside me, much faster than his blood.&nbsp; Something splashed inside me, hot, wet.&nbsp; He slammed it in, drove his fat flare far as he'd fit.&nbsp; Then his whole length pumped, pumped, pumped!&nbsp; It wasn't even wet—just a swelling, hot mass inside me growing from his spout, spreading out.

He was roaring; felt it though his chest, his breeder.&nbsp; I roared right back and spat ropes into his bellyfur.&nbsp;&nbsp;

He didn't stop.&nbsp; He didn't!&nbsp; It just kept coming and coming, stuffing every inch of me and more.&nbsp; How'd he have so much?&nbsp; My belly ached, my hole, my legs.&nbsp; And still more pumps, more heat, more him, more, more.&nbsp; It gushed out of me, spattered on the floor, made a fuckin' mess.&nbsp;&nbsp;

I don't remember his last shot.&nbsp; I don't remember when his roaring stopped.&nbsp; I do remember that big beating rod resting inside me, all warm and thick and seeping.&nbsp;&nbsp;

He'd done it.&nbsp; Couldn't pretend he hadn't.&nbsp; With that much?&nbsp; Only question was how many of his whelps I'd be carrying.&nbsp; Still didn't know how, but I could feel it taking.

His breathing came softer now, but that was all I could hear.&nbsp; Nothing—not a single sound—seeped in through the door.&nbsp; There'd been a party.&nbsp; Was it over?&nbsp; No.&nbsp; Things'd just been starting, and what we'd done hadn't gone that long.&nbsp; Had it?&nbsp; No, no.

Everyone out there was listening.

But it was fuzzy, trying to think about that, trying to be worried or scared or ashamed.&nbsp; He purred, low.&nbsp; It rumbled so soft all around me, and so firm inside.&nbsp; This was good.&nbsp; This was safe.&nbsp; He was good and safe.&nbsp; I could hide under his fur forever.

That wasn't true.&nbsp; Not quite.&nbsp; Not yet.&nbsp;&nbsp;

He gave a grunt, pushed up, pulled back.&nbsp; My hole hung on, but bit by bit by little bit he dragged his breeder out.&nbsp; It popped free, and a whole lot more something hit the floor.&nbsp; I think my pants were down there.&nbsp; Sure weren't hanging from my ankles anymore.

He sniffed at it, at me, my hole; huffed, trilled, snorted.&nbsp; Then:

"I'll take you home."

I think I nodded, tried to mumble 'yeah'.

That big, fuzzy body came around to my side, dipped down, and I rolled off the couch onto his shoulders and hips.&nbsp; It wasn't so warm, not until I'd settled on and wriggled in.&nbsp; Then, all that heat held under his fluff-!&nbsp; I purred, a cub again—even more than I'd ever been.

He rose, turned about, took steps.&nbsp; Stopped.&nbsp; The latch clicked, just in front of us.&nbsp; Its door moaned open.&nbsp; He padded through to the hall, and kept on down to its end.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

They had to be watching.&nbsp; They had to be whispering.&nbsp; I couldn't hear them.&nbsp; I couldn't care.&nbsp; His heart thumped loud, proud in my ear.&nbsp; I pressed myself deeper until we were outside.&nbsp;&nbsp;

It was still chilly.&nbsp; I think.&nbsp; Hard to be sure, with how warm he was.&nbsp; Made everything else feel like winter.&nbsp; I didn't hate that, though.&nbsp;&nbsp;

He hit the street and turned left.&nbsp; My place was somewhere right.&nbsp; I hadn't told him where.&nbsp; I hadn't told him my name.&nbsp; "We going to yours?"&nbsp;&nbsp;

"We are."

I wanted to see where he lived.&nbsp; I wanted to ask him his name.&nbsp; "I think I need new pants."

"You do."

He sauntered along beneath me, father of my kids, and I didn't even know what to call him.&nbsp; But it didn't feel the right time to ask.&nbsp; Not yet.&nbsp; What time was it?&nbsp; Sun seemed dim, but his fur was too lovely to lift my head and check.&nbsp; "Gonna get hungry.&nbsp; Didn't eat much before you… yeah."

"I cook."

"Oh?"&nbsp; That made a silly picture in my head: him, reared up over a stove, toiling with his fores.&nbsp; Guess his kind didn't all just order out, or hunt, or whatever.&nbsp; Well, if he was gonna make me dinner, I couldn't complain.&nbsp; "Got some good family recipes?"

He nodded.&nbsp; He purred.

"Can't wait to try 'em all."&nbsp; I'd be eating for two.&nbsp; Three?&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

He purred louder.&nbsp;&nbsp;

Made me want to drift off in his fluff.&nbsp; "Y'know what we should do after?"

His shoulders shifted, his head tilted.

I wiggled up him, stroked his neck, put lips to his ear.&nbsp; "You get back in me, and we make sure."

&nbsp;

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/zeR3DYm7