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Warning: Porn and violence ahead!

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Chapter XIII - Wild Cards, Calms and Storms

Sao Paolo is amazing!

The teenage girl sat in her father's limousine as it rolled through the heart of the city, her face pressed up against the window and brown eyes darting about taking in the rolling landscape that seemed like a quilt laid over hills as far as the eye could see.

On the streets, she could see thousands of furs going about their day to day lives, selling things, shouting, laughing, playing, working. It was so much more lively than her Midwest hometown, so much more vibrant.

She could hear wisps of music lilting in the humid air, carried by the wind, heard in bits and snatches as the limo crawled through city traffic.

Across from the girl, her father lay in a specially-rigged bed, a pair of paramedics calmly monitoring him. She lost her smile looking at him, seeing how pale and thin the middle-aged ferret had gotten. With a graceful slide, she got off the wall seat and walked over to take his paw, feeling how skeletal it had become.

He smiled up at her, his eyes lighting up as they always did seeing her.

"Raven."

The sick fur's voice was a whisper, issuing from pallid lips, and she had to restrain a wince for his sake.

Fucking cancer...

Raven leaned down and kissed his forehead, as gentle as a spring breeze, and gave his paw the lightest squeeze.

"We'll be there soon, daddy." She looked over at the paramedic, one of them their own specially hired assistant on this trip, the other a local representative from the hospital.

"Do you think your hospital can help him?"

The well-groomed rat gave her a smile that brought up one edge of his lips, and then did something she always respected and rarely received from anyone but her father. He told her the truth.

"The doctors think there is a fifteen percent chance. We will make him as comfortable as possible."

She nodded and sniffed back a tear, rubbing a soft paw across her snout.

Tasha was fighting hard not to shiver like a leaf when the cab pulled up in front of Gecko's hotel. The building rose many stories into the sky, a towering edifice of glass, steel, and brightly-painted panels of stucco. Gaudy, yet functional, she thought, as she debarked the cab and handed the driver an amount of money she'd barely bothered to glance at in her haze of dread at what was likely coming.

As she walked into the building, folding the nurse's overcoat over her arm, she again considered the merits of just running and hiding. Then remembered Gecko knew where her father and brother were, and just what sort of wolf he was.

Just as she was about to enter the elevator, she felt the buzz of her cell ringing in her rear pocket, and stepped into a privacy booth used for payphones to answer it.

"Tzarov." Her voice was tight, nearly choked with trepidation.

"T-tasha, its me, Tristan."

She sighed and relaxed a moment, putting a paw to her forehead. Seeing the number came from Gecko's room, she'd assumed something unpleasant was about to happen.

"Go ahead, Stan."

He was quiet a second, probably trying to gather his thoughts.

"My uncle is...He...Don't go to his room, okay? Across the hall is where I'm staying."

Tasha frowned lightly, and furrowed her brows trying to figure out how to respond. If she didn't report in, Gecko would doubtless punish her. If she went to Tristan's room, he'd probably punish them both just to be an asshole.

"Tristan, thank you for...For trying to help me, but I can't do that."

There was another silence, and she heard the muffled sound of a sigh of resignation.

"Just...Be prepared, okay? They're...Watching that video from the other night."

Her stomach clenched and felt curdled. Tasha bit her lip, then shook her head in disgust, before straightening her back and speaking again.

"Thank you, Tristan. You're a good guy."

With that, she hung up the phone and headed for the elevator.

The lion had held out, at least for a while. Buck's training in torture and interrogation had been decades ago, and cursory at best. Arlen had remained in the room, even though most of the favela-dwelling gang members had left, unwilling or unable to watch as Buck removed finger and toe-claws with pliers, savagely beat the skinny great cat, then finally cut the clothes off of him and locked him in a windowless room.

Arlen had helped, as Buck had figured out a way to ground the charge for his next technique. The stag looked tired, which was no surprise given it'd been about twenty hours since they'd last slept.

"Boss, you sure he knows something? Wouldn't he have told us by now?"

This as Arlen was helping lift a table so the buck could run ropes under it for strapping the lion's arms down.

"If he didn't know anything, he would have started spouting whatever he wanted us to hear by this point. Torture's not exactly a science though. Wouldn't be bothering with it if we had any other lead."

Zebra snorted, while slipping under the table to tie knots in the ropes.

"Choo jus like to hurt heem. I don' blame you mang. Hees boys shot at me too, choo know?"

Arlen nodded and let the table rest again after the burro had finished his work and wriggled back out from under the heavy metal thing.

Buck just grunted, and scowled darkly as he tested the electrical leads with a pair of crackles and a few sparks...Then linked them up to a thin metal rod that looked to Arlen like an Asp.

The big tiger grimaced, finding his imagination couldn't come up with anything he wanted to see that could be done with that.

"Should I even ask?"

Buck smirked, and it wasn't a friendly smile. More the kind that gave Arlen a shiver. Then again, it made the burro bray out another of his laughs.

"No. But you should watch. Valuable technique. Okay, Zebra, go get him?"

"Choo got it." The burro walked over to the metal door, straightened himself to his full five foot five height, then booted it open with a 'WHONG!'

The lion, fur matted with sweat and speckles of blood, was cowering in the corner, shoulders heaving in terror sobs. Buck knew the lion was close to breaking, and likely knew nothing of use to them, but the bastard deserved what he got in the stag's mind. Petty slum warlord, vicious murderer, drug runner...The world would be safer without him.

Zebra grabbed the lion with deceptive strength from his small slender frame, and dragged the cat over to them. Arlen scrunched his snout at the smell of urine and fear, but moved to help the burro tie the lion face-down on the table with his legs hanging off the edge.

The stag walked up behind the lion as they were binding him down, and signaled Zebra, who yelled at the lion in a voice Arlen could only characterize as loud and enraged. He raised both brows, at the realization the burro was putting up all sorts of acts.

Who is this guy anyway, and why has he helped us so much? I mean yeah the money's good but...

The lion shouted something Arlen couldn't really understand, and the stag shrugged, then dug into his belt with a rubber-gloved paw. The tiger's eyes widened with surprise as he came out with a bottle of lubricant. So far as he knew, the stag had never taken time off during a job to get laid.

Buck spread the stuff over the asp after making sure it wasn't charged, then started running it over the lion's ass, achieving a high-pitched shout of outrage.

Arlen crossed his arms over his chest, curious now what was going to happen.

After a few moments of taunting the lion in rough Portuguese, Buck smacked the lion across his hanging testicles, causing them to pull up harshly and the lion to squeal in pain, trying to curl to protect himself but too bound to do so effectively.

"Arlen, you gloved up?"

"Uh...Yeah?"

"Trust me on this. Grab his dick."

The tiger tilted his head at the stag, then shrugged and walked over, leaning down and gripping the lion's flaccid sheath with his right paw, aiming it away from him to avoid any unfortunate expulsions of urine.

Buck delayed just a little longer, tapping the lion's balls with the tip of the asp just barely lightly enough not to make him squeal again...Then he slid the oiled tip of the asp upwards until it rested against the lion's puckered tail hole.

His other gloved paw grabbed the mangy lion's tail and yanked it to the side roughly, as the poor creature wriggled on the table and called Arlen something he was pretty sure translated to "faggot."

Arlen laughed and looked at Zebra.

"Tell him he's the one bent over the table like a bitch."

Zebra said it and the lion growled reedily, right up until Arlen leaned over him and did the most insulting thing he could think that wouldn't risk him getting HIV or something to a clearly homophobic fur. He kissed the back of the lion's neck. Just as Buck slid the asp right into the lion's ass, using the lube and the slender tip to bypass all chance the clenching sphincter had to stop him.

The lion squirmed and shouted again, trying to kick out at the stag violating him, but unable to thanks to the ropes they'd looped around its ankles.

Buck looked over at Arlen, and in a conversational tone, spoke.

"Watch this."

With a flick of his thick wrist, he turned on the current, and the lion started thrashing, shouting out in a high-pitched ululating whimper as the current flew up that asp and straight into his colon, the current making most of his long ropy muscles stand out in stark relief against his skin.

Arlen felt the shaft in his paw shaking with muscle spasms, glad his glove and boots were rubber that prevented him becoming a ground. Then blinked as the shaft in his paw started to twitch in a far more familiar way.

Buck maneuvered the probe, shifting it around a bit and watching the lion carefully as it yelled out incoherently, pink pucker clenching in what had to be a horribly painful cramp, and then paused with its head thrown back and a shocked look written on its muzzle.

With a crackle, he tazed their prisoner's prostate, a full jolt.

Arlen felt the sheathe swell, and suddenly blast out a truly startling amount of pearly lion-cum, the semen blowing all over the floor in long messy lines as its balls pulled up nearly to the point of vanishing.

The lion was panting, squawking wordlessly, wriggling at the hips, its cock growing rapidly even as it was ejaculating again, Buck having shocked him a second time. This load was slightly less unbelievable, only twice the volume Arlen was used to seeing from Sato or himself, where the first had been maybe triple.

Arlen couldn't decide whether to laugh at the bizarre response, or to feel like an awful creature for thinking of it. The lion was clearly in terrible pain, having driven yellowed fangs straight through its lower lip, its body clenched up in a way he'd only seen once before, when another Army recruit had fallen off a running log on the obstacle course and compound fractured his knee to the point bones were sticking out of the skin.

When Buck tased him a third time, the shaft in Arlen's paw pulsed and jumped, twitching, trying to expel semen that just wasn't left to shoot. The lion was shaking like he was having a seizure, and trying to shout something that just wouldn't come out.

Zebra waved a paw at Buck, who abruptly turned off the current, and the burro leaned down to listen as the lion whispered.

"Some of heez boys followed the negotiator back to a hotel. Hotel Gran Sao Paolo. Tall black furred perro. Er...Dog?"

Buck's scowl turned even darker, remembering a few things. First, Rene had killed two black canines at the helicopter. Second, that Tamra had, at roughly the same time, been following other black hounds into the favela.

Arlen gave the lion's dick a quick pump, milking a few drops out of it as the lion squirmed weakly again, then patted him on the head.

"Good boy. So what now, boss?"

"We get some sack time, then we go back to the hospital, pick up Tamra so she can I.D. the target, and then we pick up the next link at the Gran Sao Paolo."

Arlen nodded and wiped his cum-coated rubber glove on the lion's mane before pointing a thumb at the half-conscious creature.

"What about him?"

"That's up to Zebra's friends. Fuck him, we have what we want and he can't identify us anyway.'

"Good point."

The burro's grin was unsettling. Somehow, Arlen found himself actually liking the self-caricaturing Mexican for it. If he'd seemed normal after all this, Arlen would have started to question his own sanity.

Fuck.

Tasha was on the love seat again, that same one she'd been raped on not more than a week ago. Gecko had his arm around her shoulders, had her pressed to his side, and was sniffing her hair as they watched another video.

This time, it was a video of her. Naked, wearing just scraps of a dress, her face covered in Gecko's thick white spunk. The black dog had knotted her ass, and was holding her hips while whispering into her ear. Tasha couldn't remember what he'd said, but it gave her chills thinking about it, as she watched the hound tug at her abused ring and close its eyes while giving another little jet of cum to her burning insides.

She'd walked in just as it was reaching the part where Gecko had blown his load on her face, and could see, to her trepidation, that he was quite aroused by the video.

He whispered with his lips against her temple, giving her ear a little lick that made the red-furred thing twitch and ran a shiver down her spine to her groin. She couldn't believe this was arousing her, and had to fight not to hate herself for it.

"You did good tonight. Sato's almost in our grasp, and your contract will be done. Of course assuming I decide to let you go."

She grimaced inwardly, knowing his leverage on her wouldn't end when the job was done. Tasha felt trapped, and fought down a surge of hopelessness.

"As a reward tonight, you get to pick one of us to fuck."

The vulpine turned her head toward him, nearly nose to nose, eyes wet with unshed tears.

"Why would you keep me after? You already have seen me fail once. Fifty percent is a poor success rate."

Gecko laughed in a way she could only characterize as villainous, tossing his head back as he did. She saw it, exposed there, and knew she could bury her fangs into the cream fur there, hold on until he was dead, and damn the consequences. It would be so easy to end him right then.

She knew she couldn't, though. She would never escape alive, what with the two dog bodyguards here and watching with hungry eyes. She'd probably be beaten, raped, and tortured for destroying their meal ticket. And then whoever managed Gecko's operations would probably have her family killed just out of spite, like Gecko had promised.

As he finished laughing, he finally responded.

"Because I LIKE you, silly vixen! You're interesting, skilled...Resourceful. And you know how to use your tongue."

He smirked and grabbed her chin with gentle but firm fingers, leaning in to kiss at her. She didn't respond to it, though it made her shake with barely-contained fear, knowing the dangerous sociopath could react badly.

The wolf merely smiled though, and shrugged, as he drew back licking his lips for more of the taste of her.

She shuddered and looked away from him, scanning over the available choices, knowing she had no option but to play his sick little games. The two black dogs were leering at her, giving those grim vicious little smiles they had. Gecko himself was handsome, capable of gentleness, but might very well decide that cutting her face open with a pocket knife would be good foreplay.

As she scanned, her eyes alighted on the nerdy nephew, Tristan, who had been trying his best. He'd kept the wolf from going after her in the shower earlier, and tried to warn her off of this little meeting. The young wolf wasn't even paying attention, probably trying to immerse himself in whatever work he was doing on that laptop to avoid being part of this.

She wasn't attracted to him, really. Her types were either much more slender and athletic men, or larger, burlier types like the big black dogs. Tasha hoped she wouldn't end up revolted by the kid, her only friendly face here, but it was a risk she felt the need to take, if for nothing else to stick it to Gecko.

"Stan."

Gecko blinked...Then laughed at her, his arm around her shoulders tightening again as the wolf gave them a confused look at having heard his name but not the context it was used in.

"My nephew? I doubt he can get it up for you anyway. The kid's never even touched a real woman before!"

The two dogs joined in the merriment, and Tristan blushed bright red to the tips of his ears, paws clenching into fists as he gave Simon the darkest glare she'd seen in a long time. A glare she would keep in mind for later, when it was time to turn on Gecko. The thought gave her hope, something she hadn't felt much of in the last few traumatic days.

"He doesn't treat me like a happy sock."

Now that really got Gecko laughing, his chest shaking with mirth, as the arm around her shoulders shifted, then planted its paw in the middle of her back and shoved her hard enough off the couch that she ended up on the floor having banged her shoulder off the ottoman.

Tristan got up from the computer, brushing a few crumbs off his shirt, walked over to her, and slipped his arm around her back to help her up.

"Simon, you're a fucking asshole."

It just got more laughter that seemed to embarrass the young wolf more. Simon did stop laughing long enough to make one more statement though, as he was waving them out of the room with a dismissive paw.

"I want video. If I don't see you cum on or in her at least once, I'll be using her pelt for a coat, and my boys will make a man of you, got it?"

Tristan glared, a stare so hot she couldn't reconcile it with his soft, gentle face. Tasha smirked inwardly as she imagined his eyes lighting up and firing lasers through the cackling psycho.

Instead of showing her amusement though, she laid her head against Stan's side, turning her face in towards him, and spoke in a soft tone.

"We'll...Figure something out, Stan. Let's just go."

He nodded, hot embarrassment still blazing through him warm enough for her to feel through his fur, as he pushed the door to the hall open, shot one more glare of hatred over his shoulder, and then ushered her into his own room.

He looks nervous or furious, not sure which. Maybe both...

Tasha couldn't help but watch him with a sympathetic eye, as the unathletic wolf puttered around his messy, electroncs-cluttered hotel room, flipping listlessly through his things in a clear excuse for not looking her in the eye or getting on with this.

The vixen sat on his couch, an exact mirror to the one in Simon's room, eyes tracking the nervous wolf. It was kind of sweet, really, how bashful he was.

Stop it, Tasha. Don't get to like him.

With a sigh, she brought a paw up to her face and rubbed at the headache there.

Tristan saw, and stopped whatever he was doing.

"Gods, I'm...I'm sorry, Tasha. I don't want to..."

She wasn't stung by the idea of him not wanting to have sex with her. She refused to be that silly. The sex wasn't either of their choice.

"Its okay, Tris, we have all night...Just relax, okay? Come here."

He hesitated, paws holding what she thought might be a motherboard, chewing his lip, before setting it back down and padding over to her. She pointed to the camera sitting on the desk.

"Turn that on. We can edit it later, right?"

"Oh...Yeah sure."

He paused on the way over to flick the thing on, then slowly paced over to her, shifting the couch cushions as he settled onto them, paws in his lap, as far from her perch on it as he could be. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, he picked up the television remote and flicked it on, starting to surf through the channels for something, anything entertaining.

Tasha was watching him with amusement now, despite it all. He was sweet, he didn't want to do this, he hated his uncle...It was something she could work with.

With a sigh, he offered her the remote, seeing she was looking at him. He'd stopped on an old episode of some sci-fi show she didn't recognize.

"I um. I'm a big nerd, and you're...Well, you're a beautiful deadly woman. I bet what I find fun to w-watch isn't very interesting to you."

Tasha quirked an eyebrow, and leaned forward to take the remote, then set it down on the table. As she did, the lithe vixen slid on the couch until she was against Tristan's side, feeling him stiffen up nervously as she did. A few silent, tense seconds passed.

"Stan?"

"Um...Yeah?"

"You slept with your hand on my crotch all last night. I don't mind if you put an arm around me."

She looked up at him, half-laid against his side, and gave him an amused half-smile.

Tristan did as she asked, his soft fleshy arm going around her shoulders, as he licked his lips with a pink tongue and swallowed.

"Um...You don't have a problem with uh..."

She laughed softly and shook her head, then stuck her tongue out at him.

"Tristan, I think its cute you like this stuff."

"Oh."

She laid her cheek against his chest then, and watched the show, wondering what the odd feeling in her chest was. A lowering of tension, a feeling of empowerment over her fate, she thought. It wasn't until some time later she realized it was a feeling of safety.

Hours passed and the wolf had, at her prompting and questions, talked about the shows they were watching, filling in enormous plot blanks that had been explained in previous episodes or other seasons. He compared and contrasted shows with her by their varying merits, talking about character themes, plots, motifs...He was educated, and she was enjoying having a smart conversation that wasn't about sex, killing, or the military, though he did occasionally ask her questions about how a real soldier would act in the situations they saw on the tv.

"The captain of a ship isn't actually allowed, in most navies, to be part of a shore team or boarding action. He has too much information, they can't risk his capture."

"Huh. I guess its just the show's way of maintaining character continuity and interest...Because having all the fighting be done by marines wouldn't be terribly good for character development of the main officers?"

"Hm. Seems reasonable enough. Still, very unrealistic."

Tasha had relaxed entirely, and so had he, after quite a bit of time and talking. Her head was in his lap, and his big gentle paw was stroking the soft fur of her shoulder and side. The vixen closed her eyes and sighed out softly with a smile on her muzzle, nuzzling into his leg.

"A-are you tired? He probably won't check on us till morning. Busy with his men. He's um...Mostly gay, actually."

She looked up at him, noting his expression of concern, and gave a soft snicker.

"You're not getting out of this that easy, Tris."

He blinked in surprise as she rolled over, and slipped a dextrous paw into his lap, wrapping around the cloth-covered erection he'd been trying to hide for some time now.

"S-sorry! Um...I j-just...Not used to being near pretty women!"

Tasha was laughing under her breath as she looked up at him, slithering forward on the couch until her arms were rested on his leg, one paw giving his boner a squeeze through the cargo shorts.

"Yeah, its supposed to work that way, silly." The vixen stuck her tongue out at him, a playful grin trailing across her muzzle, as she tipped her head down and made a wet spot on his pants by engulfing the clothed bulge's tip with her lips.

Tristan gave a little hiss, sensitive, embarrassed, and feeling a shock of pleasure from the playful touch, his paw finding its way into her hair, exerting no force when it got there however.

Tasha looked up at him, and paused in her play when she saw the look there. He was scared, reluctant...Not so unlike herself earlier, though there was definitely desire there too. She had a thought then, and nodded once, to herself, before giving him another lick and pulling off a bit to speak.

"Its okay to enjoy it. I want this. You've helped me and I want to thank you. Also, you have a nice dick."

She gave it a squeeze with a giggle that surprised her.

A giggle? What am I, twelve? Get it together, girl.

He shifted around when squeezed, and sucked in a breath, nodding, his eyes trailing over her body for what felt like the first time. She realized he hadn't actually spent much time ogling her. Just furtive, occasional glances like she'd gotten from shy boys back in high school.

Tasha shifted, rolled sideways, and landed on her knees on the floor, paws already going to her top and pulling it off in a smooth rolling motion. It got tossed aside, landing at random on the floor as she looked up at him with a smoldering, heated expression in her eyes. In order to fit in with the locals, she hadn't worn a bra that day, and her nipples were already stiffened and showering over her downy scarlet fur.

She waved a paw, and pointed at his groin.

"Earth to Stan. Lose the pants. Unless you want to clean white stains out of them, that is."

If he blushes any redder, she thought,he's going to have an aneurism.

The wolf scrambled, unbuttoning the cargo pants and stripping them off so fat he nearly lost the snap, dropping them to the side and standing there in red boxers and his t-shirt, fumbling with his fingers at the waistband of the underpants.

"First time?" She smiled knowingly, and brought her paws up to fondle her pert little breasts, pushing them together, then gently teasing the nipples. He was licking his lips, reluctance being rapidly replaced with lust, as he stripped them down to his knees, then flopped back on the couch to kick them off.

Tasha's eyes widened as his bouncing red staff came into view. Sure, he had a bit of a gut and wasn't really muscular at all, but holy crap. It had to be over nine inches long, and thicker than she was sure she could handle.

Haha, he's bigger than his uncle AND that stupid black mutt.

Seeing the widening of her eyes, he looked down at himself and blushed brightly, his ears pinking up as his paw went down to futilely attempt to cover himself.

"I uh. If its too big, I'll understand."

Tasha answered by swatting his paw away, wrapping hers around the base of his shaft, where the slight bulge indicated he'd have an impressive knot later, and slavering over the reddened tip with her tongue while meeting his eyes and grinning.

"No apologies. You have a cock like a porn star, you realize?"

He just kind of stared at her, mouth hanging open a bit, and dug his clawtips into the couch as she licked him again, tasting the salty pre he'd been leaking while they'd been lying there close together all that time.

"Mm...fff..."

She murred her way up his shaft, rubbing at it with the side of her muzzle, and then opened her mouth as wide as it could go, trying to fit around his tip. It was tight, and keeping sharp teeth from scraping him in the heat of the moment would be a challenge, but she let newly regained confidence guide her. Both paws went to his shaft, starting to stroke while re-positioning him to be pointed at her, rather than up towards the ceiling.

For his part, Tristan shifted about trying to find a good position to sit in, and ended up falling backwards to lounge on the couch, watching her with a fascinated, hot expression that seemed almost disbelieving to the vixen slowly bobbing on his tip. The hot, wet sensation was wonderful, toe-curlingly sweet, but also felt somehow naughty, like he'd done something bad.

Somehow, that thought felt good. A sense of freedom from rules. He was getting his first blowjob, he realized, and it felt damn good.

Tasha shifted her position, laying more forward to give herself a better angle and pushing his legs further apart so she could get more access to his body. After a few seconds of jockeying, licking, her b-cups were pressed against his groin, his dick pointed at her thanks to her paws, and she was forcing herself forward, challenging herself to see how much of him she could get.

Tristan's clawtips punched a little into the couch leather, as he watched the vixen trying to swallow him down and starting to struggle at only about halfway, her paws making twisting motions up and down his shaft in opposite directions.

Fuck, glad I decided to blow him. I don't think my ass could handle this, and I don't have any condoms that would fit him...

The normally quiet wolf let out a low groan as she forced herself forward again, choking slightly as his hips twitched towards her. When he heard that, he tried to pull back, a look of apology written across his wide eyes, but she stopped him by grabbing his balls, tugging them towards her to indicate what she wanted. With a surprised look, he curled his fingers in her headfur and shifted forward, helping her get deeper as he panted in growing excitement.

Tasha squeezed and fondled his heavy testicles, rolling them one-pawed as her other paw kept his shaft in place. Swallowing convulsively, she pushed against, twisting her head back and forth as she did so to stimulate all those sweet nerves with her tender flesh. The prickling running down her throat told her he was leaking powerfully already, and he tasted fresh, manly, clean...

Her paw steadying his shaft felt the knot as it grew, and slid down to wrap around it, squeezing rhythmically as her left paw released his balls and moved up to stroke between her lips and other paw. Tasha kept swallowing, slurping her tongue at whatever her packed-full muzzle could open enough for her to reach, tracing veins and jangling nerves as the keyed-up wolf started sucking in breaths.

"T-ta...tasha...Y-you should...I...Ngh!"

She looked up at him, seeing his eyes squeeze shut, face flushed and damp with sweat, and realized he was trying to warn her but too embarrassed to say it aloud when her muzzle suddenly filled with a forceful first blast of his thick, powerful cum.

Tasha swallowed reflexively, choking on the sheer volume as it forced its way up her nose with the second surge, and had to pull off, coughing up semen as a third shot took her across the bridge of her snout.

The vixen's paw kept stroking as she squeezed down on his knot, and the wolf let out a howl, throwing his head back as his cock surged again, blinding her as stinging white covered her face in three more gushes, before his spurts began to taper down, dripping and making a mess of her paws.

Wiping at her face with the back of her left arm, Tasha managed to clear one eye enough to look up at the spent, panting wolf, and gave him a cum-glazed smirk she felt from her very core. This she had power over, in this she'd had a choice, and she was pleased to have made him feel so good by her actions and will. Also, she added to herself as a reminder, it gave her more influence over someone Gecko might actually have some tiny vestige of care for.

Tristan opened his eyes to look down at the smiling, cum-splattered vixen, and blew out a long breath that left him sagging on the couch, spent cock twitching sensitively between her paws. He reached out to gently trace his fingers over her still-covered eye, helping her clear it as he started snickering.

"You l-look like someone hit you in the face with a bucket of white donut frosting."

Tasha snorted, which made the cum drip off her chin, strings of jizm splatting softly to the carpet, before she started using her cummy paws to wipe at her face.

"You made a mess, mister. Help me get to the shower? I can't see, you got sperm in my eyes and it stings!"