FSE

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Well hello again my fellow connoisseurs of the furry arts, I come once again to present to you another fine example of my trade. What inspired this story? Well I am reading a book at the moment on how to write romantic stories for profit. Weird reading material for me I know, but as a writer, it is imperative that one always continues to adapt and change their skills, particularly when it is one's trade. This particular section was discussing the idea of creating conflict or something, instilling emotion and such into a character. I honestly cannot remember off the top of my head. One of the examples they gave was 'woman has dog she loves dearly who is killed by a larger dog, suffers wounds in the process of trying to save it, loses love of dogs out of fear of injury, is forced to confront fear when friend ends up in hospital and is unable to get someone else to take care of the dog.'

I trust you can already see where this is going. You aren't on a furry smut site for the scenery. Anyways, enough chit-chat, on to my email address, which as always is: [email protected] and do remember that just because it is taboo, it doesn't mean it has to suck!

By my tail! Internet, you may be a reflection of the human species but for the sake of us all learn what makes a good story! On a side note, in addition to my book on 'writing smut for profit', very much a exaggeration, I know, I would also like to thank Jeeves the Roo for his very well written piece 'Feral Loyalty' (link: http://www.sofurry.com/page/60714/user ) as another inspiration for this piece. In addition, he is also an inspiration for myself as he shows that speed and skill with the English language aren't contradictory talents.

PS: I would also like to thank a friend for assisting me with the edit of this piece of work. As I am unsure if he wants to be named, I shall simply call him "Fox".

"An emotion, such as love, be it platonic, romantic or sexual, is a very strong force and the shock of loss can scar someone psychologically. However, the relief one feels when they realise this emotion anew is comparable to euphoria." -Avanti Halfhorse

Her relationship with dogs hadn't always been one of fear and distrust. At one stage in her life she happily enjoyed the companionship of a small Jack Russell terrier, but this was many years ago when she was but a young mouseling.

She had received him as a puppy and named him Jack, not a very original name, but at the age of five she was quite proud of it. She and Jack had much fun as she grew up, always taking him for walks in the park and playing catch.

He was there for all those important moments a young mouseling had and he was always supportive of her. He would sit in her lap and listen to her as she read to him. Whenever she felt scared he would be there to hug and cuddle. He was always aware of his owner's fears. He would always sleep in her bed, starting off at her feet, but would always end up cuddling with her by morning. She would always talk to him about her day and he would always listen. He was the mouseling girl's best friend, however this friendship wasn't to last.

One day when she was out in the park, with her canine friend playing a game of catch, a strange pit-bull came wandering by. Her parents had told her many times that strange dogs weren't always friendly but her relationship with Jack had certainly tainted her view of dogs. Jack didn't like the look of this strange dog and growled, his hair bristling.

"Stop being silly Jack," she had said in her innocent way. "He's just another doggy."

It seemed unfortunate for her that this 'doggy' happened to be a rather nasty example of cruelty, bred for the purposes of dog fighting, and when she had approached to give it a pet, the pit-bull latched onto her arm with rage and fury. She let out a loud scream which spurred her loyal Jack to strike like lightning in order to save his owner.

Jack bit the pit-bull on the leg and this new attack caused the pit-bull to shift his attention away from her and onto him. He fought loyally to try and save his owner from the pit-bull's attention, but he didn't realise the risks he was taking. The pit-bull managed to wrap its large jaw around the small Jack-Russell's body and began to shake the poor dog like a toy.

She screamed in horror as she watched her beloved Jack savaged by the brute, but she couldn't do anything to save him as he lay bloodied and dying upon the ground. The pit-bull was unwilling to surrender its new play thing.

Eventually someone came along and managed to beat the pit-bull away from the severely mutilated dog, but by now poor Jack had well and truly passed off his mortal coil. She cried for hours over her lost friend and the space in her heart that he once filled remained empty.

In addition to her loss of poor Jack, the injuries she sustained now made her fearful of dogs. When her parents took her shopping for a new puppy to try and alleviate her pain, she resolutely declared not to go near any pet shop.

Where once was a bubbly and outgoing mouseling, starting on her journey into her teenage years with enthusiasm for the challenges ahead, there was now an introverted, nervous and sexually suppressed mouseling, afraid of any dog she came across. She passed through her teenage years and became a scared little mouse woman, who preferred to live a quiet, safe and structured life.

Once a fortnight, she would see a psychiatrist to help deal with her anxiety, but by her 24th birthday she had made no headway into her problems. It would be dedication to a friend that would force her to face these problems.

Despite her quiet nature she had a good friend, a friend who didn't let danger get in the way of fun. They had gone to school together and some had difficulty believing they were friends based on their vastly different personalities.

Her friend had gone sky-diving and had broken her leg when the landing went foul and here she was, having been given the keys to her friend's house with the instructions to feed her friend's dog, Beaver.

She had seen Beaver once or twice before, he was an Irish Wolfhound who could bump his nose against the base of her ribcage without looking up and would have no troubles toppling her over if he jumped up and put his paws on her shoulders. She had no idea why her friend had such a large dog or why she had asked her to feed him as her friend knew of her phobia, but after trying to find someone else to feed Beaver, she could see why her friend had asked her. No one else was around to feed the dog.

The first night she panicked. She wasn't able to bring herself to go feed Beaver, but after a quick, emergency session with her psychiatrist the next day, she realised that she had to feed the dog or else he risked starving; there was no telling how long it would be before her friend would be out of the hospital.

Her psychiatrist told her that one day or another, she would have to face her fear of dogs and that a dog that at least knew she was a friend to his mistress would not react negatively, particularly as she would be feeding him. So bolstering up as much courage as she could muster, having drunk a glass or two of wine before hopping on the train to give her some more confidence, she was now standing at the front door of her friend's place with the key in her paw.

She knew the dog wasn't allowed inside, as he chewed up the woodwork. His name was Beaver after all, but she still felt rather nervous as she opened the front door to the house. It was dark inside and she could hear deep whines coming from somewhere within.

She could feel her heart-rate rising as she flicked on the light in the front entry. The lights in the hall were obviously on the same circuit and illuminated the strong steel screen door, giving her relief. Even if he had been loose in the house, he'd never have made it to the front door. Since he wasn't there waiting, he had to have been locked out the back. She felt secure knowing that he was still separated from her.

She banged on the screen door a few times to double check that he wasn't roaming the house but these bangs only incited Beaver to bark and from the front entry, she could also tell that he was barking from the other side of a door. She felt safe in entering the house. She locked the front door before opening the security door and walking into the house.

The kitchen and the back door where Beaver would sit when there was activity in the kitchen were at the back of the house, but she also had other jobs to do. The fish also needed feeding and the mail needed to be collected, but after these two simple tasks were done, the job of feeding Beaver was still looming.

She chopped up the wet dog food for Beaver before pouring some dry food into Beaver's bowl, mixing them together. The smell of the dog food brought back the bitter memories of Jack for her and she could feel her heart swelling with sadness at his memory. She fought back her tears as she picked up Beaver's bowl and slowly walked towards the door. As she opened the heavy wooden door, she saw Beaver sitting on the opposite side of the screen door, wagging his tail happily at the smell of food. Cautiously she opened the door and slipped the dish through the gap between the door and the door frame before closing the door so that the dish was trapped on the outside and lowered the dish to the ground.

The moment it was even close to the floor Beaver lunged for the dish and began to eat, startling her and forcing her to drop the dish and pull her paw back inside She closed the screen door once she was safe. She sat there, watching the large wolf hound eating his meal with great vigour, shifting the dish with his great nose as he took mouthfuls of food and chewed. Watching the powerful jaw crushing the dry dog food made her extremely nervous, the scars from the bite all those years ago stung. She rubbed her arm nervously, rolling up her sleeve to give the scar tissue a gentle scratch. However Beaver's appetite soon made sure that she wouldn't have to watch the disturbing site, leaving behind an empty bowl, which he licked to make sure every crumb was consumed.

With his meal finished, Beaver walked over to where his water bowl sat and gave it a sniff before licking the dry bottom. She then realised that he also needed water. She looked around the kitchen for something she could use as a water bowl for the large dog, finding an empty ice cream container which would suit as a makeshift bowl, unwilling to fill up his proper one. She filled it and holding it carefully, walked over to the screen door. Beaver could tell the container held water and once again sat obediently by the door. Following what she had done before, she opened the door just far enough to push the ice cream container through before pulling it back so just her paw could slip through.

Beaver was very thirsty though and he jumped for the container, knocking it from her grip and onto the deck, spilling its contents everywhere. She hastily pulled her paw back in with a startled squeak as she watched the water drain through the gaps in the deck.

She panted as the shock ran through her system and watched as Beaver whined, licking at the damp deck planks to try and get some water. The ice cream container was now broken and as Beaver had forced the dish across the deck in his hunger, she would have to go outside and fill up his water bowl from the tap that sat above it. She wasn't going to risk it until Beaver had gone to lay down.

He terrified her. It made the bite scars on her arm sting. Beaver simply sat there and waited to see if this friend of his mistress would come out and play, however his boredom soon took control and he wandered off to lay down in bed. She waited for a minute or two after he had gone to make sure Beaver had gone elsewhere before quietly opening the back door.

When the sound of the door didn't call Beaver back, she hesitantly walked out onto the deck and tried to reach for the tap, not letting go of her grip on the screen door, lest the self-closer pull it back and hamper her retreat. She tried everything, even trying to turn the tap with her foot, but to no avail. She would have to let go of the screen door to get to the tap.

She let go of the door and quickly moved towards the tap. She turned it on, but as she went to dash back to the kitchen she froze. Beaver had somehow quietly snuck up on her.

He stood there, a curious look upon his face as she stood frozen to the spot. Her panic was returning; she was drawing shallow and panic-filled gasps of air.

The screen door slammed shut. Beaver's attention was drawn away for just an instant. Her instincts used this instant to bolt in the other direction, hoping that she could find somewhere to hide.

Beaver thought this was a game and took off after her. She only got a few paces before she came up against the railing of the deck. She had run the wrong way.

Beaver was a few paces behind her and barked at her with joy. She didn't see it that way. She backed into a corner and curled up into a ball, starting to cry in fear as Beaver slowly approached. Her bladder failed her. She could feel her warm urine start to seep through her knickers and jeans.

She held up her arms to protect herself and waited. The bites she feared never came. A large tongue started to lick the scars on her arm from where the pit-bull had bitten her.

At first she feared he was merely tasting her, testing her flavour. Twenty or thirty seconds had passed and he didn't make any other moves. She peaked out from behind her arms. Beaver decided that her tear-soaked cheeks needed a lick as well.

She was startled by the tongue going for her muzzle and let out a squeak, but Beaver was now relentless in his goal of getting her tears. He nuzzled his way past her arms and began to lick the fur on her cheeks and neck. She soon started to warm up to this playful game she was playing with the dog, giving mock whimpers as Beaver found a gap and gave a lick before she could shift her arms to protect herself again.

Beaver quite liked this game and soon was nosing the mouse to try and find some more tears. She was so lost in the game that she didn't realise she was losing her balance until she fell over with a squeak. Beaver now licked her face with great big licks as she laughed. She removed her arms and gave the wolf hound a big lick in return.

She stopped herself from laughing for a moment and realised that she hadn't licked a dog since.....

...

Her eyes began to swell with new tears and her arm began to sting. Beaver, sensing his new friend's sorrow, nuzzled himself under her good arm and licked at the scars on the other. Behind the well of fresh tears, she watched the dog's tongue work some strange magic, the wounds ceased their phantom pains. Her crying slowly abated.

"They've stopped hurting," she said to Beaver, "how'd you do that?"

The dog said nothing as if he were unwilling to reveal his secrets. As she was engrossed in the amazing healing effects of his slobber, he decided to investigate the scent of this friend of his mistress.

She was surprised by the sudden feeling of the dog's nose pressing to the wet patch on her jeans from where she had wet herself.

"N-no," she whimpered as she tried to push the dog's muzzle away from her embarrassment.

The dog was adamant at investigating this smell.

He kept sniffing, pushing his nose closer to her crotch, an area she had neglected for many years, stimulating feelings deep within her body. She could feel a warm tingle move through her body. It wasn't just the wet feeling of her jeans. Soon, she started to resist less to the dog's advances. She enjoyed the feeling of his nose pushing against the front of her jeans.

She had never done anything like this before, her sexuality suppressed after Jack had passed, afraid without her closest companion. The large wolf-hound was now causing her body to release the pent up tensions within. The strong smell of male dog filling her nose as she rubbed her face into his coat.

She was caught unaware when Beaver pressed his paw to her crotch. He scratched at her jeans. Parts of her tried to resist the dog's advances, tried to resist the tingling that was growing from within, tried to resist her paw as it reached down and undid the button that held the top of her jeans together. Her body now started to drift away from the screaming of her scared mind and towards its more basal nature.

She slipped her paw past the wet elastic of her knickers. Her fingers touched the wet, neglected flesh of her pussy. It ached desperately and her body convulsed involuntarily to this new and desperately needed touch.

Beaver began to shove his nose into this opening in her jeans, also wanting to get in on this new and interesting smelling excitement. She felt her palm being pressed against her crotch by Beaver's nose and his snuffling moved her paw up and down.

The stimulation was amazing, making her mind reach heights it had never though possible, or neglected out of fear. In between her desperate gasps for air, she looked down and saw Beaver licking at the front of her knickers. She didn't think about what she was doing when she shuffled her jeans down, nor was she thinking when she kicked her jeans over her shoes and she certainly wasn't thinking when she cast her panties onto the same pile. She held her legs open and allowed the large wolf-hound's tongue access to her delicate and sensitive lips. When his wet tongue and hot breath first passed over her quivering flesh she let out a loud gasp. Her entire body was wracked in shivers that sought out every part of her being, even her ears twitched and shivered.

Going from being unloved to being touched by the hot breath and tongue of a lover forced her entire body quake in its first orgasm. She grabbed desperately at Beaver's head and the balcony rail behind her as she cried out. She wanted desperately for her orgasm to stay and it obliged her for several minutes.

Beaver's tongue held her on the wave of her climax, each hungry lick and exhalation of warm doggy breath drove her deeper and deeper into her desperate and unsatisfied needs.

She leaked her nectar, which Beaver happily and hornily licked up, the tastes of a pleasured female danced delight upon his taste buds.

As much as she longed for this pleasure to continue, her exhaustion slowly subsided her to a plateau of warmth that seeped through her entire being.

She laid back against the balcony rail as she panted, her muscles sapped of their strength and her mind awash with the dull afterglow of ecstasy. Beaver wasn't too fussed about how she felt, still ravishing her for the nectar that seeped forth from her body.

"Thank you," she said as she rubbed the dog's neck, still panting from the work out she had just received.

She wanted to repay him for all the pleasures he had been kind enough to give her, but she wasn't sure just how she could repay him until she saw the long red length of his member. Her smell and taste must have excited him and now his cock was dangling from his sheath in anticipation of coupling with the bitch who was the owner of these tasty fluids.

She wasn't sure if she could go so far as to let him mount her. She was more than willing at his point to offer some pleasures in return.

With what energy she could muster, she leaned forward and grabbed Beaver by the collar. Carefully, she pulled his head further and further down until he had no choice except to lay down on his side, showing it off; his red vein filled member. She lay down beside him with her head by his belly, letting him get his nose between her legs again. He seemed to enjoy licking her. She came face to face with the dog's monster of a cock.

She could swear it was almost 30cm long from the tip to the throbbing knot of flesh near the sheath, which looked as if it were the size of a softball. The niggling doubts came wandering forth from the back of her mind. These were unable to overcome the musk emanating from the dog cock before her and the moment the salty taste of canine precum touched her tongue, they were silenced again.

All she could think about was wrapping her hungry wet lips around Beaver's thick cock as she let her tongue explore the dog cock. Her tongue ran along the length of the canine member, enjoying the many new tastes and feelings that filled her mind. She slowly wrapped a paw around the member, just above the knot as the attention of her tongue focused upon the precum that readily dribbled from the tip.

Her nose was soon overwhelmed by the strong scent of Beaver's musk, his natural odour wafting up from his sheath and balls. Each time she inhaled, it would fill her lungs with this horny scent, which then drifted through her body and began to affect her own mind. It filled with thoughts that made her nipples and clitoris sting with arousal, driven to almost intolerable levels by the years of neglect and the intensity of this release.

She placed her lips upon the tip of the hot member and began to kiss it, letting her tongue slide and explore what flesh she slipped into her mouth, acting in desperation for the succulent tastes it offered, making sure to pay close attention to the source.

Beaver happily whined at the sensations he was feeling as she became more ambitious and began to take more of his length into her mouth.

She began to suck and lick more of Beaver's length as she took it into her mouth, until her lips just kissed the massive fleshy knot. She moaned hungrily as her paws grasped the knot and began to massage the bulb of flesh.

Beaver gave a happy whimper as he felt his knot get massaged by a dexterous set of paws, giving him sensations that reminded him of the pleasures a bitch's sex offered.

She could feel his hips bucking in response to her massage, frantically driven by his animalistic desire to breed. She could feel his member sliding over her tongue as she pressed his length against the roof of her mouth.

She wanted desperately to feel Beaver's warm seed in her mouth, sliding down her throat and filling her stomach. She craved the taste, it was a taste that was appealing to something deep within her, she couldn't explain what it was, but it certainly was begging for more.

Beaver hurriedly thrust against her paws and mouth, his cock throbbed with animal needs, so close to his climax. She sucked on the member within her mouth, savouring the precum as it flowed forth into her mouth. It wasn't long after that before Beaver's hot, dog cum spilled into her mouth and onto her tongue.

The taste, strong and enticing, drove her mind wild. The salty cum flowed over her tongue and down her throat, they contracted and flexed as if they were having an orgasm. Nothing else filled her mind, not how taboo it was, how far she had gone or even the sorrows she still held for Jack. Nothing could push from her mind the sheer pleasure that she was feeling.

She pulled back from Beaver's cock to pant for breath before he had finished filling her mouth with his seed and some spurt forth onto her face. She held her mouth open in case some hit her tongue, but her cheeks and chin were covered in the hot seed of a canine.

Beaver's cock twitched its last for the time being, the last of his semen merely a dribble upon the tip of his cock. She fell backwards and lay upon her back, panting with sheer exhaustion. Her mind free of the anxieties she had felt for so long, free from the horrors and nightmares she had suffered after Jack's death. Several years of pent up libido had exploded in that moment and now, her mind and body were burnt out.

Beaver spent his time in his post orgasm daze licking his cock, ensuring his member was clean before it slipped back into his sheath. Once he was sure he was clean, he turned his attention towards his rodent companion, first licking her face to clean up the cum that she hadn't swallowed and now matted her fur. She giggled as he did this, but didn't resist his caring gesture.

Once he had cleaned her face, his attention moved back towards her crotch, exposed to the cool night air and dribbling her nectar still. As Beaver licked at her snatch, she gazed up at the ceiling of the deck and smiled for the first time in so many years. Not a false smile that she put on to fool the others, but a real smile, a smile of contentment. For the first time since Jack died, she felt content.

She lay there for a while, not budging when Beaver became bored at the lack of any more tasty nectar and lay down beside her. She lay there for a while, simply panting and cuddling up to Beaver, who didn't mind the sensation of someone snuggling up to him.

After a while, she realised that she couldn't simply lay there all night, as much as she wanted to. She got up and picked up her underpants and jeans and it occurred to her that she couldn't wear her urine soaked clothing on the train ride home, she would have have to see if there was something amongst her friend's clothes that she could wear. As she walked back towards the kitchen door Beaver got up and walked after her, curious as to why his new friend was leaving him.

"I'm sorry Beaver," she said with a smile, "you and I certainly had fun, but I have to go home now, okay?"

Beaver gave an unhappy whine as he realised his new playmate was leaving him.

She knelt down and gave Beaver's cheek a lick, just as Beaver would.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she said with a smile.

And she would, not just because she would have to feed him.

Beaver reached up and put a paw on her shoulder to which she returned with a smile. She hadn't felt this way for anyone, ever. Jack had been someone special to her, but even he did not touch deep within her body, that place that Beaver now seemed to hold within her now.

"I should get home," she said to Beaver as if he could understand what she was saying to him, "I still have work tomorrow."

Beaver seemed to understand this though, an idea his mistress had spoken about before. He gave her a sad look, but one that said he understood why she was now leaving him.

She turned off the tap on the way past, now that Beaver's bowl was overflowing with water.

She walked inside and put her soiled clothes into a plastic bag before going to her friend's room to try and find some clean clothes. Whilst her friend was a border collie, they seemed to be similar in size. She could find something that should fit well enough. She easily found a pair of panties, but rather than going for the traditional cotton briefs, she decided to be a bit naughty and borrowed a lacy pink pair that made her feel like a real tease once she had put them on and posed in front of the mirror.

A pair of jeans to wear was another story. The chest of drawers didn't have any pants or skirts, so she walked over to the wardrobe and opened the door. There were a couple of pairs of jeans in here that looked as if they would fit, but she noticed something else.

Hidden in the back corner of the wardrobe was a shoe box. Her curiosity got the better of her morals and she reached in and opened the lid. Inside the shoebox was a dog collar with a tag.

She knew it couldn't be Beaver's as he was wearing his collar. She looked at the metallic gold tag in the shape of a bone and all it said was 'BITCH' in large, capital letters.

It didn't look like any old dog collar either; it was made of a high quality black leather with stainless steel studs in it. Under the collar was an envelope that looked as if it was filled with photos. She picked it up and took the photos out.

She recognised the occupants of the photos.

One of them was Beaver and the other was her border collie friend and she was wearing a black leather collar with a metallic gold bone name tag hanging from it.

She didn't need to guess the name on her friend's collar, nor what it implied as the first photo of the pile was her friend sitting next to Beaver in her bare fur. Beaver appeared very aware of what was going to happen as his cock was hanging erect from his sheath as he sat next to her.

She looked at the next photo and her friend was now on all fours, posing as if she were a bitch propositioning Beaver and he was certainly quite happy to oblige her role-playing. His nose was under her raised tail, sniffing at her pussy and his large cock pointing rigidly forward, drunk on the smell of arousing pheromones.

She looked at the next picture and Beaver was now atop her friend's back, getting ready to slide his cock into her, the photo taken at mid thrust and his member appeared to have slipped below the mark.

Her body twinged a bit at the content of the photos, not out of disgust, but out of longing. As she looked, she felt a need growing through her abdomen, a need to feel a thick cock within it and each new photo she looked at only brought to the front of her mind how bad that need was.

She lay down on her friend's bed as she looked at the photos, her own pussy lips becoming a deep pink colour as blood flowed back to them in anticipation of stimulation.

The pink panties she was wearing didn't do much in containing the nectar that dribbled from her body, becoming damp rather quickly and letting the excess run down onto the bedspread. As she flicked through the photos, she began to stop seeing her friend in the pictures under Beaver, but she started to see herself.

She imagined herself in the pictures, losing her inhibitions to the thick dog cock as it fucked her to screaming orgasms. It was her in those images at the mercy of Beaver and his pure animal instincts, uninhibited and strong. His needs were unadulterated and he had no qualms about taking what he needed.

She wanted to feel that now. She wanted to feel his cock within her taking from her what he so desired. She seemed to forget what she had come into her friend's room for, forgetting that she had to go home, forgetting why she was wearing the pink panties, why she had looked in the wardrobe in the first place. Now her primary thought was the collar and the symbolism it now held.

Beaver lay on the back deck, now resting and feeling rather content, having just received a rather satisfying blow job from his mistress' friend. He didn't expect to be interrupted from his dozing as his mistress wasn't around and his mistress' friend had 'gone home,' whatever that meant, he just knew she wouldn't be around until after the sun and risen and fallen again to feed him and then maybe, he would be lucky enough to get his cock sucked again.

He was startled when he heard the back door open and saw his mistress' friend leaning around the screen door with a nervous smile upon her face.

"Beaver," she called to him, her voice tinged with nerves, almost as if she was unsure of what she was doing, "come here boy."

He certainly wasn't going to question why she was calling him, perhaps she was willing to have some more fun. She looked pleased as he got up and walked over to her, wagging his tail to show how happy he was she decided not to go straight home. He did notice though that she had discarded the rest of her clothes, which he found rather appealing. He didn't quite understand why people wore clothes.

She lead him into her friend's bedroom and she guessed Beaver had an idea of what when on here as the pictures had been taken in this room. Beaver seemed rather happy to be in this room and as she closed the door, he hopped up onto the bed. He sniffed the bed spread where she had been sitting earlier, the patch of her arousal attracting his attention. She watched him sniffing the wet patch with enthusiasm as she walked over to the wardrobe and took the shoe box out from its hiding place.

The jingling of the collar in the box caught Beaver's attention and he looked up from the tantalising smell, recognising the noise. He hopped down from the bed and stood before her, staring up at the box with anticipation as he knew what was within it. She walked over to the chest of drawers, put the box on top and lift the lid. The collar sat there waiting to be put on, waiting for her to put it on and give herself to Beaver.

Beaver stood next to her and she looked down at him one more time, no longer seeing him as her friend's scary dog, but the one who would make her a bitch. There was no need to wait any more, she knew she couldn't let herself back away now and go back to what she was like before, a nervous, scared creature who seemed to fear her own shadow. She took the collar out of the box and fastened it around her neck.

She looked down at Beaver as he gave a happy little growl and began to push his nose towards her. The force of his happy pushes forced her to fall back onto the bed with a surprised squeak. He began to lick the hot wet flesh between her legs with great gusto. His licks were forceful, strong with desire and his need to push deeper in her made her body writhe and wriggle, causing the tag to jingle. This motivated him lick harder. In desperation as her nerves were overwhelmed by the strong sensation, she grabbed her chest with both paws and rubbed her breasts. Her stiff nipples pushed into the palms of her paws and stung with sensation. Oblivious to her body, she was caught unaware by an orgasm that ripped through her crotch and made her body contort and twist in inexplicable pleasures.

She screamed and her thighs squeezed Beaver's head, who was unperturbed by this sudden expression of delight. Whilst her orgasm was intense, it wasn't long and she was soon laying spent upon the bed, trying to regain her breath as her head swum in a sea of serotonin. As she stared up at the ceiling, she felt the bed shift and Beaver was soon atop her, licking her face with breath that reeked with the scent of her sexual lubricants.

She smiled as she wrapped her arms around Beaver's body. her paws grasped at his shoulders. She had let the thoughts of what was going to happen slip her mind. Beaver was kind enough to remind her that he too had needs.

The tip of his member brought her back to reality It touched the hot lips of her body, his precum mixing with the copious amounts of sexual nectar that coated the outside of her lips. She wondered if it was going to hurt, that first moment, her first penetration. She didn't wait long to find out.

Beaver felt the stimulating response of her walls and gave a thrust, slipping through her lips and passing into her. The pain should have been excruciating, it should have made her cry out for Beaver to stop. She did not find herself screaming in pain, but crying in ecstasy. There was no doubt in her mind that the pain was intense, but the pleasures were mind shattering.

She cried out as her body was wracked by an orgasm extreme. Her legs wrapped around Beaver's hips and she pulled him closer, His member slid deeper, forcing her passage open for the first time in her life. Each thrust went as deep as it could. She didn't know much about her body but she could almost swear the very end of each of Beaver's thrusts were touching her cervix.

She cried out in pleasure and ecstasy, completely lost in the hot sensations that were filling her abdomen, each thrust causing the feeling to grow and move.

Beaver's size was certainly his advantage and she felt as if she were getting stuffed, thrust after thrust feeling as if it were pushing her nectar into her womb.

"More," she moaned, barely able to form the words in her mouth. "Beaver MORE!"

Beaver didn't care for her commands. His own interest fixed him on filling his new bitch with his seed, making sure that her hot body would accept all of his seed and give him a healthy set of puppies. She could feel his desperation in breeding her, wanting make sure his tie was secure, ensuring none of his seed spilled out. She could feel the growing knot starting to press against her with each forward motion. She wanted to take it, knowing that it could be far too much for her body to handle, even now the tapered tip of his member was tickling her cervix. She craved it now, she had come so far that it would seem a waste not to let her master tie with his new bitch.

She pulled him closer with her own legs, Beaver's knot pushing deeper and deeper with each hurried and desperate canine thrust, the softball sized knot rubbed against her clitoris and lips with each new thrust. She wanted more.

She could guess how much she took with each new thrust and her body was willingly accepting the massive size of the knot. She passed the thickest part of his knot and her body engulfed and clamped tightly around it, like a bitch would.

Beaver was now thrusting with what few centimetres he could muster now that his bitch was clamped tightly around his knot. She suddenly felt something new rush through her body with a slight sting.

Beaver's rigid cock pushed right past her cervix opening and her senses were heightened to a new level, feeling her canine lover's cock thrusting through that tight ring of muscle. Involuntarily her body clamped down on the intruding member, holding onto it tightly as she waited. She cried out for Beaver to fill her body with the gift of his seed, making her his bitch.

She didn't have to wait long, the sensation of a desperate bitch around his cock enough to finish him. His entire cock throbbed as he began to pump her womb full of his hot seed. The feeling of that hot cum jetting into her caused her body to reach its climax, a sensation unlike anything she had felt that evening, or in her entire life.

She cried out, moaned, panted and yelled for Beaver, calling him master. She wanted his sperm to swim deep, fertilising whatever eggs they came across and leaving her pregnant with her master's puppies. The thought of being heavy with Beaver's puppies seemed to draw out her climax, her body still trying to milk Beaver's cock, even after the last of his seed and dribbled forth into her.

Several minutes passed and her climax seemed to subside, but not leave. Every twitch and move either she or Beaver made seemed to remind her that the essence of it was still there and should she move too much, it would come back and send her body into another spasm of pleasure.

She held her canine lover close in a desperate hug, unwilling to let him move whilst his knot was still within her, as she knew he would simply drag her light body around behind him, writhing in pleasure as he tried to remove his knot from her.

She knew that it would have to shrink of its accord eventually, a male dog certainly didn't remain tied to a bitch permanently. How long that could take she didn't know, but she didn't care too much at the moment, savouring the warmth that her body had been filled with. It certainly gave her time to think about things as she lay there underneath her canine lover. She would have to tell her friend what had happened, but for the moment, she would keep it between Beaver and herself.

It had been a hard week for her in hospital, mainly because she was stuck with her leg in a cast and sling whilst the pin set and the inactivity was driving her mad. She decided to see how her mouse friend had gone. The collie picked up her mobile phone from her bedside table and sent off a quick SMS, asking how Beaver was going. She had barely put it down when she received a picture message reply. Hoping that she hadn't sent a picture of Beaver's latest piece of devoured furniture, she opened the message with a bit of caution, only to find a picture of Beaver and her mousey friend.

Her mouse friend was crouched on the floor, doggy style (a position she had to admit was her favourite), with Beaver atop her, a look on his face of pure pleasure as he fucked her with gusto. Somehow she had managed to add a quick caption to the image before she sent it and it read; 'Getting on fine'. She decided to send back a message.

'That's good, but don't forget to feed him as well.'