# Dare: Let Him Cum Inside You

Author: Cinos
Tags: Alcohol, Breeding, Dalmatian, Dubcon, Impregnation, Lesbian to Bisexual, M/F, Party, Riding, Straight, Vixen, Wolf, orientation play, stripping, truth or dare

Alyssa and Catherine are an odd "lesbian" couple, though only one of them, Alyssa - who is also the dominant one out of the two - firmly identifies as such. Their dynamic always changes when alcohol is involved, though, and this time, at a younger friend's party, Catherine gets a devious idea as she notices a rather handsome male wolf...  
  
Commissioned by

[@rockywulf](/u/rockywulf)
  
  
Join my Discord at [https://discord.com/invite/x55typCFuz](https://discord.com/invite/x55typCFuz) and follow me on Bluesky at [https://bsky.app/profile/ruddertail.bsky.social](https://bsky.app/profile/ruddertail.bsky.social) for updates!

They were an odd couple, Alyssa and Catherine. Well, odd to those who weren’t used to, or at least familiar with, the dynamics of lesbian relationships.

Alyssa was a tomboy, or as she preferred putting it, _butch._ A dalmatian who preferred dressing in leather and metal, ideally lots of both at the same time. Rarely if ever did she show any skin. Her attitude was brash, outspoken, perhaps a little grating, and she was built rather wide and strong for someone who nonetheless was both born as and identified as a woman. She also didn’t like men. Not for any particular reason or trauma. There was no phobia about it. She just _didn’t_ and never had. Her partner called her _Grump_y on occasion, owing to her mostly jaded, cynical personality.

Then there was Catherine. She was the polar opposite. A bouncy, very feminine and curvy vixen, the kind of woman who openly _giggled_ while talking to people. Not a bimbo; she was, as Alyssa put it, sharp as a tack. She was just a very happy, very feminine person, _never_ seen outside without a carefully curated look mostly consisting of frilly or very suggestive and revealing dresses, her finest heels, and a full set of jewelry, all matched by both color and material. And she liked pop music, which made Alyssa retch. She also wasn’t really a lesbian, but a bisexual woman who had been so charmed with Alyssa’s crude demeanor that she had ended up in a relationship together regardless. And then married, which had mostly been Catherine’s idea.

So yes, most people they met thought them quite the odd couple. The differences didn’t stop there, either. Alyssa didn’t want kids, and she especially didn’t want to ever get pregnant. Catherine absolutely wanted both, and also wanted _Alyssa_ to be pregnant, which was, of course, rather hard to do without involving a man to some capacity. A transgender woman might be able to make it work, if early in transition, but they hadn’t been lucky enough to find one, and even if they did, Alyssa _still_ had little interest in actually being a mother.

They had almost nothing in common except some _spark_ that made them greatly enjoy each other’s personalities, a deep attraction, and a somewhat similar sense of humor. That was that. What they said, almost in unison, if asked – Alyssa in an irritated growl and Catherine in a happy, giggly chirp – was that they _completed_ each other in a way that two similar partners would probably struggle to ever do. And they liked teasing each other about those differences, certainly. Alyssa never dressed appropriately for the occasion, so Catherine referred to that as her _combat attire._

“It’s so she can protect me if we get attacked by rabid badgers,” she had explained at the last party they’d gone, much to the dalmatian’s frustration. “She’s _very_ concerned about rabid badger attacks.”

She had giggled while she said it. That melodic, charming giggle that made Alyssa always tolerate even her silliest moments, like the time she had tried to paint the dog’s nails _pink_ rather than the typical black, or the most common “not painted at all”, even if she kept them sharp. Just in case of badgers. Or wolves.

Parties were one thing that they both liked, though, so there was _some_ common ground. They both also liked alcohol, and sometimes they perhaps used it as an excuse to disrupt their usual dynamic. Alyssa tended to both soften and open up when sufficiently buzzed, whereas Catherine developed a playful mean streak. Given both of those facts, they ended up reversing their usual relationship of dominance and submission, where Alyssa was – when sober – very much both dominant and on top, and Catherine was happy to simply please her.

But when drunk, things changed. Sometimes unpredictably so. And right now, both lovers were at a party. One of those things their last-to-graduate friend in college had thrown together to celebrate her graduation.

“Can’t really say I’ve missed any of this,” Alyssa grumbled to herself while sipping on a big glass of decent stout. “Like, sure, youthful energy. But the… everything else.”

“Whatever do you mean, dear?” Catherine giggled, sipping on her own drink, which Alyssa didn’t recognize and that had entirely too many colors for her. And strawberries. She was lucky her friend had hired a real bartender for the evening.

“The music,” Alyssa grunted. She gestured roughly towards the speakers. “Like, what even is this? Is it music?”

“It’s what they play on the radio, hun,” the vixen smiled. “You know, what like ninety-nine percent of everyone on the planet listens to?”

“Vapid pop-slop about your fifth ex betraying you?” the dalmatian grumbled. “I can’t deal with it.”

“Well, I happen to know the person who made this playlist. The next song’s about getting drunk and having sex on a yacht,” Catherine beamed, and with how broad her smile was, it could only mean one thing.

Alyssa looked into her eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t,” she emphasized with a genuine dreadful distaste.

“I did. My playlist. Deal with it, girlfriend,” the vixen giggled, before breaking into outright laughter as the song about drinks on a yacht came on. And she kept laughing for almost a good minute while Alyssa’s frown only deepened until the corners of her mouth looked like a stockbroker’s nightmare.

“Yeah. Okay. I think you’ve earned a free flogging next time you want your cunt eaten,” Alyssa growled.

They weren’t exactly strangers to a little bit of bondage and an even smaller bit of sadism and masochism, so Catherine winked at her, before getting distracted listening to the song. “Ooh, check this out, the lyrics are basically about getting a lesbian so drunk that she agrees to fuck a dude.”

“That’s _rape,_” Alyssa snarled.

“Nah, the guy’s also drunk. So, it’s more like mutual stupidity. And then they fall in love,” Catherine narrated. “And no more drinks.”

She added that last bit with a feigned sad frown. Maybe it wasn’t exactly legal advice, but it felt in line with her personal morals.

Alyssa then launched into the kind of righteous, but perhaps a little tedious, tirade that she often did when drunk, venting all her frustrations about society. “Yeah, as if that’d ever happen in real life. See, that’s why I hate this goddamn music. It’s unrealistic. It makes kids think you can get a lesbian drunk enough to fuck them. And that’s not even the worst part of it! It makes them think all lesbians are secretly into dick and just need to find the right man to provide it!”

Catherine found it charming. The dalmatian was right, there was no doubt about that. On the other hand, the vixen did have to admit that she thought Alyssa could loosen up a little and have a lot more fun if she wasn’t so concerned with necessarily being _right._ That was the moment when, in her somewhat alcoholic haze, a wonderful idea dawned on her.

She leaned back in her seat, thinking and watching the rest of the partygoers do what they did. Dance, talk, drink. The air smelled of beer, sugar, and sweat. She and Alyssa were a little older than the rest of the crowd – and the crowd was a little too _college_ even for the vixen –but these days, people made friends at whatever age all the time thanks to the Internet.

But that wasn’t the point. She just enjoyed the ambience. The constant noise around her left her able to think in a way that she couldn’t in a quiet space, which, again, made her completely different to Alyssa. Extroverts and introverts and all that. But her eyes scanned the crowd for someone suitable. She knew their mutual friend had some other “older” friends. Not ancient, but around the same age as the couple. While younger people were _fun_ and all – and sometimes, she and Alyssa had playdates in the most sexual sense with such friends – they weren’t quite right for what she was planning. No, she needed someone _experienced_ who was fine with a _very_ slow burn kind of encounter. Who wouldn’t just blow his load at the idea of playing with a lesbian couple. And yes, it’d have to be a man. It was to prove a point, and perhaps to satisfy some of the vixen’s most personal kinks.

There; a wolf. A big, grey, handsome wolf, his tail wagging to the beat of the music while he also looked over the other partygoers. While Alyssa got increasingly deep into her next pint of beer, Catherine stood up, her bushy tail wagging slowly as she excused herself for a moment and approached the handsome lupine.

“Well hello,” she opened. “You look a little older than the rest of the crowd.”

It wasn’t a smooth pickup line, but that was _deliberate._ It was to weed out the people who had no chill whatsoever, no ability to make jokes about themselves.

“I prefer ‘well-preserved’,” the wolf replied with a smirk. “I saw you and your girlfriend earlier.”

“Oh? She’s a bit of a grump, but I do love her,” Catherine replied. “Every leathery, studded inch, really.”

“I’m sure, she looks charming. In her own way,” the wolf replied. “I’m Rocky. And you?”

“Catherine. And the big spotty grump there is Alyssa,” she smiled. They didn’t shake hands. Who did that at a party, anyway? “What are you looking for? Because I totally see you looking.”

“Do you want an honest answer or a diplomatic one?” Rocky asked. He certainly had a fair bit of natural charisma. Catherine liked him already.

“Let’s go with something in between,” Catherine suggested, and took another long sip of her drink before setting the glass aside to pick up a plain can of cider. She was starting to feel buzzed in the best way, which – as always – made her both even more talkative than usual, more confident, and naturally, more _lust-driven._ She looked the wolf over; he was dressed casually, in a t-shirt with some graphic that she didn’t quite recognize, and a pair of shorts. It was always hard to find long pants if you were a digitigrade type, which both Catherine and Alyssa were all too familiar with. At least the shorts were stylish enough.

He was also rather toned, with the kind of arms the vixen loved to squeeze or be pinned down by, so that was a plus. Not that she planned on getting fucked; that would, if everything worked out as she planned, be better saved for some else. She would be happy with just her fingers.

“Well, really, why does anyone go to a party? It’s for fun, isn’t it? And if I happen to catch some cute lady’s attention, all the better,” Rocky smiled, _diplomatically._ It was hard to say what exactly made a smile diplomatic, but this was absolutely one of those smiles.

Catherine opened her mouth, but then another man walked past.

“Hey Rocky, gonna be breeding her later?” he called out, and Rocky blushed, but also rolled his eyes.

“Mind your own business or I’m breeding your wife,” he shot back, and the two males both laughed at that very masculine humor that didn’t work at all for Catherine. _Boys,_ she thought. But that didn’t really detract from his sexiness, and well, if this Rocky had a reputation for _breeding…_ the idea in Catherine’s mind quickly grew, almost like a flower in bloom. Maybe the wolf was exactly who she needed tonight, but perhaps not _just_ for tonight, either.

“So, you said fun. How about a game of truth or dare? Just us three. Me, you, and grumpy,” Catherine beamed, putting on her widest and most effusive smile and demeanor.

“Truth or dare? Isn’t that pretty damn _college_? Like, maybe even _high school_?” Rocky laughed. He took another sip of his drink, too. It looked like beer, but Catherine knew absolutely nothing about beer types, except that the really dark stuff that tasted like burnt toast was ‘stout’.  “But sure, I’m game. Once you convince your beauty there to join, anyway. I think she’ll be a little harder than me. But I’m not going anywhere yet.”

One down, one to go. If it wasn’t for Alyssa being here, Catherine was pretty sure she’d be upstairs with Rocky already. He seemed like just her type with the confidence and, well, barely concealed horniness. It wasn’t as if the vixen hadn’t noticed the bulge in his shorts. He was _hung,_ too, and that was exactly what the vixen needed, or rather, what Alyssa would soon realize she needed, too.

“Hey, grumpy,” she greeted her partner as she returned to her side. “How would you like to play some drunk or dr- err, truth or dare? Wow, that cider was pretty strong.”

She broke down into a fit of giggles, first at herself misspeaking, and then at the face Alyssa made at her, like a mother judging her child. By the time she had recovered, that frown had deepened, and Catherine was drunkenly howling with laughter for at least a full minute.

With tears streaming from her eyes. “So, yeah, truth… or dare. With that wolf over there,” she laughed, nodding towards Rocky. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“You don’t think I had enough of truth or dare when I was in college?” Alyssa grumbled. But she didn’t want to be a _total_ spoilsport regardless of how little she wanted to do it, especially involving a man. And she was starting to feel a bit looser, too, thanks to the beer. It was probably her third or fourth, but who was really keeping track? “I’m not _eighteen._”

“Well, are you game? We can always pretend we’re eighteen. And have sex as if we were, when we get back home,” Catherine smiled sweetly, or at least as sweetly as she could, given the devious plans forming in her head.

“_Fine._ But you’re going eat my cunt until your tongue is sore,” Alyssa growled. She took a long swig of her beer and then went to get another while Catherine prepared the game and motioned Rocky to come over. Specifically, they were going to play Truth or Dare with Spin the Bottle rules. That meaning, one person spun the bottle, and got to “truth or dare” the person it pointed at.

They had an empty plastic bottle of some off-brand soda to do the spinning with, just like old times, and Catherine felt weirdly nostalgic about it. One last little glimpse back to college life, before she had either a girlfriend or any money to speak of. She was almost tempted to order some ramen.

But instead, when Alyssa came back, woozy enough that she almost tripped over the table, all three of them sat down around the table.

“Hey, I’m Rocky,” the wolf greeted the dalmatian.

“Great. Alyssa. I’m only doing this because my airheaded girlfriend wanted me to,” Alyssa replied, though she wasn’t actually in as bad as a mood as her flat, frowning affect would’ve implied. Alcohol did wonders in making her more cheerful. It just wasn’t perfectly reflected in her demeanor. The wolf actually did seem a little charming; there just wasn’t much in the way of attraction.

Catherine spun the bottle first. It ended up pointing at herself, so she shrugged.

“I guess I get to truth or dare myself? Um, let’s go with… truth… no, this is silly. Rocky, you pick something!” she exclaimed. “Truth!”

“Okay. Truth: Have you ever had a sex with a man?” Rocky asked with a disarming wolfy grin.

“Wow, going right for the big questions? Yes, I have,” Catherine chirped, swaying back and forth slowly. “It was great, too!”

Alyssa didn’t say anything, but she imagined her partner with a man. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but the alcohol had her buzzy enough that it didn’t bother her, at least.

Rocky spun the bottle next. It pointed at Alyssa. “Truth,” the punky dalmatian grunted.

“…I mean, sorry for being predictable, but your girlfriend started it. Have you ever had sex with a man?” he asked.

“No, I’ve not,” Alyssa replied tersely, refusing to elaborate any further on that.

“I think she would, though, with some convincing,” Catherine piped up.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “And you’re going to be face-deep in pussy tonight,” she noted, but didn’t deny what her partner had said. She wasn’t actually sure. Rocky seemed nice _enough._

She spun the bottle, next. It pointed at Alyssa. “Dare,” the vixen said confidently.

“I dare you to take your top off and play the rest of the game topless,” Alyssa replied. Now, she was getting into it, and if Catherine wanted to be rowdy, she _absolutely_ did rowdy.

“Wow, right in front of our new friend?” Catherine asked, frankly surprised, but not minding the suggestion in the slightest. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, I want to look at your tits if you’re going to force me to play this stupid game,” Alyssa laughed, and then whistled – dog-whistled, so to speak – as Catherine pulled her tight top over her modest breasts. Rocky thought she was probably a B-cup or so. He’d played with a lot of breasts, but he wasn’t sure how they calculated the sizes. Either way, it was a beautiful sight when she unhooked her lacey bra, and they bounced free with the slightest after-jiggle. Rocky resisted the urge to whistle himself. He was a horndog, sure, but he was a _classy_ horndog. Sometimes.

It was Catherine’s turn again, and the bottle landed on Rocky. “Truth,” Rocky said. He wanted the two women to have some time to warm up to him before he went all out.

“Hmm. Have you ever had sex with another man?” Catherine asked, smiling that saccharine smile. This time, the question even made Alyssa’s ears perk up.

“No, I’ve not, but I wouldn’t be opposed- wait, hold on, _yes I have,_” he exclaimed, surprising even himself with the sudden memory.

“What, you just suddenly remembered you’ve been balls deep in another dude’s ass?” Alyssa asked, incredulously.

“In his pussy, actually, but yeah,” Rocky replied. “I don’t remember everything all the time!”

“Ooh. That must’ve been nice,” Catherine giggled.

Rocky shrugged, casually. “It was. He’s always pretty eager for it. But like, otherwise I’ve not done it. Wouldn’t rule it out, though, if it was the right man…”

He spun the bottle, and this time it pointed at Alyssa. By now, she was surprisingly drunk. Not enough so to slur her words, but close. And so, she chose a dare.

“A dare, hm? I dare you to take your top off too,” Rocky grinned. “It’s only fair after you forced your vixen to do it!”

“Ugh, but I’ve…” the dalmatian groaned, gesturing at her buckled corset. “Come on.”

“Nope! Don’t be a spoilsport. Off it goes!” Catherine giggled. “Besides, your poor little titties need to breathe, too. They must be flat as pancakes by now!”

Flat, perhaps no. She was quite a bit bigger than her partner. Slowly, groaning and complaining every step of the way, Alyssa unbuckled her corset, then undid a few buttons, all of which took several minutes, before the heavy leather attire came off. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath, as the inside was already padded enough to be comfortable. And that left her heavy breasts on full display. Rocky didn’t quite dare say so yet, but the dalmatian was beautiful in an androgynous way. She was muscular, but her breasts were quite large when not compressed by the corset, which lent her that undeniably feminine touch at the same time.

_Very punk,_ in other words. Her nipples were pierced, too, but that was so expected that Rocky almost didn’t register at all. Little titanium bars stuck through both proud teats. It was a good look, Rocky thought, and went quite well with her tattooed arm. Only one of them was tattooed, with a spiderweb pattern weaving itself between her black spots.

But he didn’t want to stare for too long, even if Alyssa was drunkenly smiling towards nobody in particular. Maybe she enjoyed showing off, but if she did, she’d never admit it. Rocky was feeling a little buzzed, too. It seemed his drink was also very strong. But that only made the game more enjoyable, with fewer inhibitions getting in the way.

“So, what do you think, wolf-man?” Alyssa asked, sounding almost derisive, but it lacked the edge that could’ve made it really hurt. “Are you enjoying the sight?”

“Of course I am,” Rocky admitted.

“Bet he’s hard too,” Catherine piped up.

Alyssa narrowed her eyes but said nothing.  It was her turn to spin the bottle, and this time it pointed at Catherine. “T-truth?” she stuttered, as if not having expected it for whatever reason.

“Truth at _this_ point? Fine. Are you currently fantasizing about this wolf’s cock?” Alyssa asked, and the result was one of the few times when Catherine actually blushed, her orange fur turning a rusty red around her muzzle. “Knew it. You slut. You bisexual slut.”

“I mean, I bet you are too!” Catherine protested.

“Me, fantasizing about a man’s cock? Yeah, no, that’s not happening,” Alyssa scoffed. “I just don’t bend that way.”

“How would you know?” Catherine countered. “You’ve never even played with a man in real life. Probably not even in fantasy.”

“I don’t need to try something to know I’m not into it,” the dalmatian snarled. But, at the same time, Catherine had a point. A lot of lesbians had _tried._ That applied to men, too. People experimented with their sexualities. Alyssa never had, she had simply _known._ Or had she? The alcoholic haze made it a little hard to be sure, and Catherine seemed to instantly latch onto that moment of weakness, grinning as she was. She couldn’t possibly be planning what Alyssa suddenly thought she was, could she?

The vixen spun the bottle and Rocky, selected by random chance, chose to take a dare.

“Okay. I’d say take your top off but that wouldn’t be fair to us, so I dare you to take your _pants_ off. Underwear too! Let’s see how much our tits excite you!” Catherine commanded, barely fighting back a gigglefit. She always got a little more giggly when aroused, and the whole scenario here, along with her plans for what would be unfolding soon enough had her pretty wet already. She just had to hope nobody told _her_ to take off her pants or she’d ruin her friend’s couch.

“Well, sure. But we’re moving somewhere with a little more privacy for this,” Rocky grinned. With some little hesitation and doubt, the two women stood and followed him upstairs and somewhere a little more private; the upstairs living room, currently unoccupied. There was a table that they quickly placed the bottle on to continue their game. But first, Rocky had to complete his dare.

Rocky posed dramatically and playfully. He had never been one to be ashamed of his body. Without a word, he unbuckled his shorts – he liked wearing them with a belt for the look – and then pulled them down. Catherine was staring shamelessly at his boxers where his half-erect cock tented the fabric, and with equal shamelessness, Rocky hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled them off too. His cock sprang out, quickly swelling to full hardness from how excited being watched by the two women got him.

Alyssa felt something strange stir inside her as she watched. Yes, his cock was ugly, all cocks were, but… there was something about it that really made her drunken mind tingle and her body feel a little warm as she watched the way it bounced. Almost like _desire._ No, that was silly. She wasn’t into men. But maybe her body just liked cocks. Girls could have them too, she told herself. It wasn’t exclusive to men if you followed any kind of modern sociological definitions. In other words: there was no identity crisis to be had from just watching and feeling her pussy grow a little warm and tingly from the sight, right?

Rocky sat down again and then took his turn to spin the bottle. Catherine chose _truth_, not because she didn’t want to do a dare, but because she wanted Alyssa to take the dares.

“Alright, are you wet right now?” Rocky smirked.

“…yes,” Catherine admitted. “I mean, I’m right between a handsome wolf with a big fucking cock and my amazing girlfriend with her tits out, don’t judge me!”

“I’m not judging,” Rocky replied.

Alyssa spun. The bottle landed on Rocky, and he chose a dare again.

“I dare you to take your shirt off, too,” Alyssa commanded. “Might as well have you be all naked.”

The wolf wasn’t sure if her tone implied enthusiasm or mockery, but he didn’t mind. He kept himself in pretty decent shape for occasions just like this one. Well, not _just_ like this one, but nobody was counting. He pulled off his shirt, and again, Alyssa felt that odd desire upon seeing his firm muscles bared, from pecs to six-pack stomach. She took another swig of stout to quiet the feeling and tried to focus on Catherine’s tits. But then, the vixen spun again, and distractedly, Alyssa chose a dare when the bottle landed on her, and that was when the vixen’s plan really began to take shape.

“Okay. I dare you to touch Rocky’s cock, ‘cause I see you staring at it,” the vixen commanded.

“W-what? No, I’m a _lesbian,_ you dumbass,” Alyssa growled. “I’m not into dick.”

“How do you even _know_ you’re not into if you haven’t even touched one? Don’t be so grumpy, nobody’s going to think less of you for touching a cock once!” Catherine goaded her, while Rocky sat there in perfect silence, letting the girls work it out. _He_ certainly wasn’t going to force anyone to do anything!

Secretly, or perhaps not so secretly, she _did_ want to do it. And so, with only a little more hesitation, she stood up and approached Rocky – who, helpfully, remained completely still – and wrapped her fingers around his stiff length.

She actually _gasped_ at the feeling. it was so hard in her hand, and yet, _soft_ too, in a weird juxtaposition of sensations. It was also incredibly warm. Hot, even, she just didn’t want to use that word and admit to herself that it turned her on. But she kept her hand there, feeling the wolf throb against her palm. It felt nice. She wondered how it’d feel inside her, with the alcohol having almost completely numbed her distaste of men.

And it was okay, anyway. Girls could have cocks too. The fact that this one was attached to a man didn’t matter.

“You can stop now, if you’d like,” Catherine said, tone as sweet as sugar. “But you don’t _have_ to.”

Alyssa snapped out of her sluggish trance and quickly stumbled over to her side of the table again, cheeks burning with uncharacteristic embarrassment. _Oh, get over yourself,_ she thought. _You’re not some shy awkward girl anymore, if the dick feels good it feels good._

Thinking was one thing, though, and _doing_ was another one entirely.

But from that point on, she only took dares. The next one was to _kiss_ Rocky, also ordered by her partner. Alyssa obeyed, and soon her lips were pressed against Rocky’s. He felt so _rough_ compared to women, hard, and yet… she _liked_ it, even if she couldn’t possibly be liking it. The way their tongues tangled, the feel of his possessive, strong hands roaming across her body. Catherine told him to touch her breasts, too, and since Alyssa didn’t protest – she was too absorbed in that paradigm-shattering kiss – she suddenly felt Rocky’s hands on her bare chest, too.

She _should’ve_ been angry. She didn’t like men. She never had. And she hated being touched by them. Except this one. Was it the alcohol that did it, or had she actually been wrong? She _moaned_ as the wolf’s fingers rubbed little circles around her bumpy areolae. They played with the piercings, and a surge of pleasure shot down her spine and down to her increasingly wet pussy. And he _kept doing it,_ aggressively, like so few women ever did, staking his claim in the most masculine way.

When the kiss broke, Alyssa was left panting, her thoughts a swirling mess of emotions that she didn’t know how to deal with, and the alcohol only made the confusion worse. But she was _wet._

And of course, the next dare was to show Rocky just how wet she was. It was all getting too intimate, too _real,_ outright _dangerous._ But it was an exhilarating kind of danger that made everything and everyone else seem completely unimportant, including the party downstairs. There were only herself, Rocky, and her bastard of a vixen-wife who kept goading and teasing her.

But she did as she was told. That was the game, after all. Alyssa stood up and undid her belt, slowly pulling off her leather pants. Beneath them, her panties were _soaked._

“Take those off too,” Catherine commanded. “Hard to tell just how badly you want it otherwise.”

The dalmatian peeled her panties off. It was almost a relief to get the wet fabric off her pussy before she developed a rash or something, but the cool air made her _very_ self-conscious about the fact that she was completely soaked. Catherine, of course, couldn’t help but rub it in.

“_That_ bad, huh? Maybe you’re not as much of a gold star lesbian as you thought you were,” the vixen grinned. “I mean, wow, I don’t think your cunt has been that drenched since our first time back in high school…”

Alyssa knew that. Her legs trembled as she sat back down. She passed her next turn spinning the bottle, because she really _did_ feel like an insecure teenager again. Like some part of her was wound up so tight that any moment now it would _burst_, and maybe she’d just _explode_ into trembling little fragments.

“F-fuck you,” she managed to squeeze out. “You’re both j-just as horny.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re the one denying that he’s turning you on,” Catherine interjected. And Alyssa couldn’t really deny it.

Catherine chose _truth_ again, and Rocky had a perfect question for her. “Are you hoping to see me fuck someone at this party?”

“Yes,” the vixen answered confidently. “And I have someone in mind.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Alyssa growled, but she knew that her resistance was faltering. She couldn’t explain why, and she was never going to admit it, not _ever,_ but she _was_ attracted to the wolf. Or at least, her traitorous pussy was.

They were skipping turns, now. It was hard to keep track of whose turn it even was, with how tangible the tension between all three of them was getting. The chemistry that was developing was almost drug-like, and when Alyssa chose her next dare, Catherine told her to sit in Rocky’s lap for the rest of the game.

She was naked. He was hard as steel. His cock would rub against her slippery entrance if she did that. But she did it anyway.

“Fine. Just don’t expect me to like it,” the dalmatian snarled, almost stumbling over her own legs as she walked over to Rocky and promptly sat in his lap. She had sat in laps before, but never that of someone with a cock. Especially not a cock that was hard just for her and naturally prodded at her bare entrance in its excitement. It was a sensation almost completely alien to her. But strangely, it wasn’t unwelcome. Rather than revulsion, it filled her with _desire._ Like her body was urging her to go further. At first, she faced away from Rocky – so as to avoid having to look at him – but the wolf turned her around for that exact reason.

“Fuck, this is so stupid,” she growled. But then, she took another dare anyway, letting Catherine decide everything that happened. The game had all but been forgotten, bar for the vixen telling her what to do in that drunkenly dominant manner, and Rocky asking her questions in turn.

“You can just pass,” Catherine reminded her.

Rocky nodded. Though his body rather demanded it, he was still a gentleman at heart. At least until it was too late. “She’s right, you know.”

“I don’t… fucking… quit!” Alyssa growled, fighting the urge to grind instead. If she gave up now instead of finishing the game, it’d be showing herself weaker than this random mutt!

Catherine chose a truth. “Do you want to watch me fuck your girlfriend?” Rocky asked with a smirk, a little twitch of his hips grinding his cock against the dalmatian’s entrance.

“Yes,” the vixen hissed. “I want to see you fuck her. Sit down, Alyssa. Let that beautiful cock claim your poor lesbian pussy, give it what it _really_ needs.”

“I- I don’t want to- no protection-” Alyssa barked, gritting her teeth. And yet she didn’t actually make the slightest effort to move, as if wanting to be convinced to do it.

“We don’t need protection, silly, I want you to feel his cum pumping into you without anything between you,” the vixen replied. By now, she was at her most dominant, and Alyssa in turn at her most submissive. It was their usual drunken dynamic, but this time, there were real consequences, and that left them both feeling _electrified_ with risky desires. “Now, sit down. That’s your dare. Show us that you’re _not_ into it, if you can.”

Well, it was part of the game, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to ruin it. “You just… j-just…” she groaned, forgetting what she was talking about as she slowly lowered herself, gasping as the pressure at her virgin-to-real-cock pussy’s lips grew and grew, until, suddenly, _pop._ She felt so full, and unlike a dildo, Rocky’s cock felt incredibly _alive._ It was _hot,_ throbbing inside her eagerly, possessively, dominantly. She had a _man’s cock inside her._ Her mind reeled at the realization that she was in a situation that she had always thought she’d hate, that she’d promised herself never to be in, and that she _liked it._

Rocky began to slowly roll his hips, sliding deeper into the dalmatian’s wet, warm comforts. There was no point pretending otherwise, anymore. They all knew what both the rules and consequences were, and so Rocky thrust into her, in and out, savoring how tight she was, and taking more than a little pride knowing he was the first _real_ cock plundering those wonderful depths. Lesbian or not, he really didn’t know, but her body greeted him the way it was designed to – with shivering little clenches as she engulfed him, her inner muscles tugging him deeper and massaging his whole length – the way it would any male, regardless of what her mind really wanted.

She chose a truth, next. “Are you on the pill?” Rocky asked.

_Fuck._ If she didn’t call it now, that was exactly what it was going to end in. Her pussy receiving a warm load of life-giving seed, and then she’d be pregnant, and then she’d have kids! She couldn’t allow that to happen; she didn’t want to get knocked up like some _straight_ girl! “No,” she replied, grimly.

“You know, you would look really cute all barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen for once,” the vixen huffed. “Maybe in a cute sundress. Or lingerie…” she mused, even as her hand slipped between her legs to knead away at her lust-engorged pussy in her excitement.

“You j-just say that because you h-hate the Doc Martens,” Alyssa grunted and growled, though by now, her hips were moving almost on their own while Rocky thrust into her. Closer and closer, with each motion. The thing she had never wanted to happen. It _would_ happen.

“Well, good girls don’t wear those in the kitchen,” Catherine moaned. “Just let him dominate you, boys are so good at that.”

That was another dare. Rocky’s fingers hooked into the front of her studded collar.

“You heard your girlfriend,” he rumbled, thrusting sharply into the dalmatian, in a way that immediately made her moan out. “Open your mouth.”

She did, and Rocky poured the rest of her beer into her open mouth. Even that act felt so deeply submissive that she had no idea what was going on anymore. It was almost _worse_ than sucking his _disgusting_ cock, or letting it go inside her like- _just like she was doing._ He wasn’t going to stop on his own, and Catherine wasn’t going to stop him before he did the thing all men ultimately wanted to do and filled her with that sticky, dangerous, _gross_ cum.

And yet she obeyed him like a lost little puppy, unsure what else she even could do.

“Do you think she’s fertile?” was the next truth for Rocky. He nodded.

“She smells like it. Pretty good chance that you both become mothers if I finish inside her,” Rocky growled. He was thrusting faster, now, bouncing the dalmatian in his lap. It didn’t matter who saw the so-called lesbian moan while impaled on his cock, it was worth it. She kept milking him, too, with that typical physical eagerness of a fertile bitch.

“Ooh,” Catherine moaned. “You should do it.”

“D-don’t you dare,” Alyssa moaned – in that way that Catherine recognized as meaning _no but yes –_ and Rocky clamped her mouth shut.

“Shh, good pups only speak when it’s their turn,” he grinned, his other hand supporting the butch dalmatian as he kept working towards the inevitable end of breeding her.

“But I want to see you all pregnant and cute, grumpy,” Catherine goaded, her own fingers slipping into her wet pussy again and again. “Be all girly for me for once.”

Alyssa gave a muffled protest to that. But she knew that was where it was heading. She’d be all but _forced_ to embrace her femininity and motherhood, and the thought made her clench _so damn hard_ that it made Rocky moan, too.

One final time, Catherine spun the bottle. It pointed at the seat that Alyssa had occupied before she had climbed into Rocky’s lap and impaled herself on that damned cock. She choked on her words as she tried to reply. She meant to either pass, or say _truth_, or maybe just _quit_ before this went somewhere that she could never come back from.

“I think you should take a dare. One last challenge to end the night on,” Rocky grunted when she hesitated, though his hips didn’t stop moving, having no intention of stopping and letting the dalmatian snap out of her pleasure-trance.

“Yeah!” Catherine agreed, masturbating rather feverishly as she watched Rocky’s balls tighten underneath her girlfriend, pressing against her soaked slit again and again, with his cock flexing inside her. The base of it throbbed visibly, and the vixen was _beyond_ excited about her partner being so close to finally getting to experience the feeling of being _filled_. The fact that she was such a _devout lesbian_ made it all the more delicious to her in that dominant haze of lust and desire. “One more dare!”

“F-fine. Dare,” the dalmatian stuttered. _Fuck._ It felt like she was a split second away from cumming her brains out on a _man’s cock._

“Let Rocky knock you up like a _straight girl,_” Catherine ordered, mocking her. Sure, in reality, this only meant she was bisexual. But the degrading teasing always got her off. “I dare you to let him cum inside you.”

“W-what, no, I don’t- don’t-” Alyssa stuttered, her dominance completely lost to pleasure, alcohol, and the oh-so-virile male pounding into her. She was going to obey, because she couldn’t do anything to stop what was happening.

“You’re gonna look _sooo_ adorable,” Catherine squealed as she rapidly approached her own orgasm, just like the two mismatched lovers were. She was _utterly_ fixated on their mating, in the slick thrusts of the wolf’s cock into Alyssa’s spotty punk-cunt. It felt like a deliciously taboo _violation_ to get her pregnant, but that only made it _hotter,_ and Catherine could only hope Alyssa would forgive her eventually.

But the vixen had always wanted a kit or two, and she still did.

“Last chance to say no and _mean it_,” Rocky growled, his fingers digging into the dalmatian’s hips as he fucked her faster and faster, careening towards the point of no return. “I won’t hold you down if you just climb off my lap. But I don’t think you want to.”

She didn’t, and she barely heard him. Alyssa was soaring high on the tides of pleasure, the knowledge of what was about to happen sharpening that sexual high to something impossibly breathtaking. She felt him throb again. Was this when it happened? When her formerly “gold star” lesbian pussy first got tainted with cum? The moment when she was _bred?_

Alyssa could barely breathe at all, try as she might. Time seemed to slow down as she approached her orgasm and felt Rocky do the same.

“I dare you tie with her,” she heard Catherine moan, and just then, she felt the immense pressure of Rocky’s knot slamming hard against her poor folds.

“Alright- nngh, f-fuck,” Rocky growled. Alyssa _usually_ didn’t get penetrated even by toys – she was on top for most of it – and that had left the dalmatian _very_ tight, almost too tight to stuff his knot into, but driven by that masculine breeding urge, Rocky pushed harder and harder until Alyssa whimpered, squirming at the discomfort.

But then he popped inside her. Alyssa whimpered again. Now it really was too late. It had been too late ever since she first willingly mounted the wolf’s cock, but now the reality of it was _tangible,_ it was _undeniable._

“B-be a good little straight girl and… t-take every drop,” Catherine moaned, and then she came, falling onto her side on the sofa as she brought herself to orgasm watching her girlfriend’s predicament, moaning helplessly and entirely unaware of anything else happening. The part, downstairs, had faded entirely from her periphery.

Alyssa felt Rocky’s cock flex again, tense up, and throb against her inner walls. The wolf grunted, and then she felt a muted, warm tickle against her cervix. And then another. Physically, it was almost nothing. But her eyes went wide at the sensation and what it meant, because it meant that Rocky was seeding her. Cumming inside her. Breeding her like a common bitch. _He was inseminating and almost certainly fertilizing her._ It was too much, far too much. Alyssa exploded like a firecracker, thrashing and squirming as her treacherous cunt clamped down hard around Rocky’s length and _milked_ him, eagerly drawing all that cum as deep into her as possible, each orgasmic contraction teasing another powerful rope of cum out of his balls, spent exactly where nature wanted it to be. Exactly where she, a lesbian, shouldn’t want it.

But she did. She wanted it so badly. Her entire body trembled and quivered in the throes of orgasm, each little twitch designed to milk more cum out of the male breeding her. Being filled like this was so _deeply_ satisfying in a way that she’d never felt before, shattering her entire concept of herself. She was bisexual. She had to be. Otherwise, nothing made any sense. And soon she’d be pregnant, too. Her orgasm went on for what felt like _forever,_ focused entirely on that throbbing cock and wet heat inside her growing more and more intense, pleasure surging through what felt like every single atom of her being. Again and again, the cock inside her jerked and throbbed, filling her utterly, and she knew, as her orgasm ebbed, that her body was eagerly receiving that gift of maternity.

Then she slumped down, back into Rocky’s lap from the high heavens. Well, mostly. Alyssa was so deep in that post-breeding haze that she was still stuck half in the clouds, the euphoria leaving her as limp as opium. She couldn’t remember ever cumming so hard, and right then, she was, at least, mentally free of the consequences, too. She’d get pregnant, yes, but right now she didn’t have anywhere near the mental capacity to worry about either that or her newly realized sexuality. Maybe another time. Maybe when her belly started to swell – the thought made her clench again, in a pleasurable aftershock, around Rocky’s cum-covered cock – or maybe never. Maybe she’d never worry about it and just take a page from her bastard vixen-wife’s book, just letting things happen, and just let Rocky fuck her senseless without protection as often as he wanted, guaranteeing her pregnant fate.

But regardless of any of that, regardless of how much of a violation it was, and regardless of how much she didn’t want children – or _hadn’t_ wanted them – it felt so very, very good to just rest in the wolf’s lap with that soothing, sexy, and ever so masculine heat plugged up inside her. She wiggled her hips, half-consciously but still, savoring the feeling. Maybe it was all meant to be, and maybe her punk lesbian days were over. She’d figure it all out later.

Rocky himself was panting, having given the insensate dalmatian what felt like his absolute _all,_ but he was quite satisfied either way. How could he not be, having gotten to hopefully impregnate an absolutely stunning dog? He’d just need a little moment to rest.

Just then, Catherine wobbled up to them, still completely naked, and with that insatiable look of feminine lust in her eyes. “Think you’ve got another round in you? I mean, we might as well make sure the baby has a sibling to play with,” the vixen crooned, leaning in to kiss the man who had just fucked her girlfriend. “Because I do believe it’s your turn, and I dare you to breed me too.”

Rocky quickly reconsidered things. He’d take the moment to rest a little later. He wasn’t a spoilsport, after all!

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/keN3DVOm