Life's a Beach
As well as the thumping of her heart and the faint sound of her lungs gasping for breath, she could hear the sound of her feet on the dusty, dry ground, _thud thud thud thud thud thud thud_. She had run, and walked, on two feet all her life, but somehow the noise of two feet pounding still seemed a little alien to her, as though the _lollapa-lollapa-lollapa_ of four was the rhythm to which her mind and body were naturally attuned. _Leopards weren't meant to run on two feet_, she thought, and risked a quick twist of her body to look behind her.
He was still there, also running on two feet, but it seemed entirely natural to him -- that or he was just more in practice. Either way, he was still gaining on her, still seeming unaffected by the pace of the pursuit and the heat of the sun overhead. His tongue lolled pinkly from his grinning wolf jaws.
Her heart lurched within her and she tried to quicken her pace, but there was nothing left but aching and tired leg muscles. She was as good as caught and she knew it. The glance behind had lost her seconds which she could ill afford. She stared forward, scanning the horizon, and saw the cliff ahead. It seemed to rush up towards her, even though she well knew in reality that it was she who was running and the cliff-edge stationary.
For a brief moment she envisaged herself flinging her body over the edge like a furry arrow, hurtling into mid-air with the momentum of her run. _I'd like to see him follow that_, she thought, but the idea died as she imagined the fall to the sea below or worse, rocks, her beautiful lithe body mangled and battered. She was not yet faced with so desperate a resource.
Turning to her left, the leopard raced parallel to the cliff-top, a few feet away from it to minimise the risk of a slip or a loose rock twisting her over it. Her pursuer had seen the cliff coming before she had, and was angling his strides to cut closer still to her with clinical hunter's efficiency. She could see his eyes now, and what she saw in them summoned up fresh reserves of energy from some depth she had not known she possessed.
Ahead the cliff-edge curved inward, and in the notch among the rocks she spotted a wooden structure, the top of a flight of stairs. Instinct turned her feet in its direction. She dived onto the platform, executed a sharp right-angled turn towards the downward steps, and descended at the greatest speed she could muster. She was only two dozen steps down at the most when he arrived at the top. Incredibly he took the time to stop, look down and smile broadly, the great white teeth showing clearly and terrifyingly, before plunging down in renewed pursuit. The staircase was firmly built, but vibrated slightly under the pounding feet of the leopard and the wolf. The steps were just set at the wrong enough distance apart that she had to check her instinctive length of stride to prevent tumbling down to the bottom, and at every landing where the stairs turned back on themselves in their descent to the beach she lost a few feet to her inexorable pursuer.
She was still ahead, though, when she got to the bottom. She did not hesitate for long enough to decide which way to run, but came off the last flight of steps like a spotted cannonball, tucking her head down and trying to pick up her speed again. She knew as she had known all along that she was only delaying the inevitable; he was in better shape than her, stronger and faster, and now that she was on the beach there was no other resource open to her than running until she was overtaken and brought down. She wondered what difference it would have made if she had been fitter, less sleek and more lean. Possibly none. The wolf behind her seemed to possess supernatural endurance.
The artificial sprint down the stairs had broken her stride, and the dryness of the sand at the highest point of the beach where they had decanted her dragged at her paws, slowing her further. She veered towards the sea, eyes fixed on the water-mark of seaweed that showed where high water reached, and the damper sand beyond which would not impede her flight so much. Against all rational counsel she twisted again to look behind. He was mere yards away now, still seeming to revel in the pursuit, dark fur parted slightly as the wind along the beach caught his burly form. As he saw her glance back he opened his jaws, tongue pink against the dark fur, and roared wordlessly at her. The sound seemed to go through her like a javelin. She could last little longer, but still she ran, onto the wet sand now, kicking it up behind her in little damp clots, leaving a weaving line of paw prints behind as she headed for the sea and the green-daubed rocks at the water's edge.
She was almost at the water before she turned to the side once more and continued her flight along the edge, through seaweed and shells and driftwood, paws splashing in the shallows and the occasional dying wave that lapped over her. She could scent the wolf behind her now, the smell of animal excitement wafted to her on the cold sea wind, and her legs could carry her no more. She stumbled, and he was upon her, launching himself in a pounce with arms outstretched. She felt him lock round her legs and she was over in the surf, his body on top of hers. Her muzzle ground into wet sand for a moment and she choked, unable to breathe, then forced her face above water and gasped for air. She kicked feebly but her strength was insufficient to combat his. Keeping her legs pinioned, he lurched further forward and lay across her body in the water, pinning her down.
She growled with as much courage as she could muster and tried to snap at him. He simply laughed and with contemptuous ease held one paw at her throat, clamping her jaws shut, whilst with the other he took her by the scruff of the neck and flipped her over in the water so that she was struggling on her back underneath him. A wave broke over her head and thundered in her ears.
His legs pushed between hers and forced them apart, exposing her. She tried to claw at him with her hind paws but could get no purchase, flailing at the spray-filled air as she felt his hardness against her belly, the pink wolfcock stretching out of the dark sheath with arousal. She was completely powerless to stop him forcing himself inside her, powerless even to howl or roar with protest as his massive paw clamped her muzzle tightly. Her eyes flashed fire at him in vain as he filled her and started to thrust, a glint of red in his own eyes as he revelled in his control of the situation.
At last he released her jaw and began to use his front paws to balance himself as he fucked her. With a wordless noise she seized her opportunity and jerked forward underneath him, reaching for his throat with her teeth. He saw it coming and moved to one side just in time, her fangs sinking instead into the side of his neck where it joined the shoulder. She bit down hard into the fur and flesh, hard enough to draw blood from him. It ran into her mouth. On another occasion she might have savoured the taste.
The wolf snarled and jerked himself free of her teeth, looking down at her with fire in his eyes. For a moment she thought he was going to rip her own throat out then and there. Then a wave broke over them both, and she closed her eyes instinctively. When she opened them again, he seized her by the top of her head with one paw and forced her head back and into the shallow surf, under the water, as he pounded deeper into her cunt with his wolfcock.
She had not expected this and scarcely had time for a sudden gasped intake of air before the salt water ran up her nose and down her throat, almost choking her. For a few seconds the only sound she could hear was the roaring of sea in her ears, the only shape the dark blur of the wolf fucking her in the shallows. Then he jerked her head above the surface again and backhanded her across the muzzle, left, right, drawing blood from the corner of her mouth. Dazed, she put up no resistance as he plunged her head back below the surface.
He kept her there longer this time, the salt water stinging the fresh abrasions on her lips, until her vision blurred from lack of oxygen. She struggled for her very life underneath him as he kept pumping inside her roughly, the pain from her full cunt blending with the pain in her mouth and the roaring agony from her lungs demanding oxygen of which they had already been starved during the chase. The struggle seemed to excite him further. He pulled her dripping head from below the surface a second time and once more the back of his grey-furred paw smashed across her nose and muzzle, stars exploding at the back of her eyes once, twice and again. Growling louder he grasped the top of her head and she took a long, shuddering intake of breath as she realised she was about to be plunged back under again.
The water stung her cuts again as the back of her head was ground into the sandy bottom. There was no conscious fight left in her, but somewhere very deep reflex action was still operating and she fought for the surface with every atom of strength remaining, pushing upwards and into his body. Again the struggle seemed to excite the wolf, and he thrust harder, spreading her wider, and keeping her head in an iron grip under the surface. The roaring noise in her ears grew in volume and her lungs threatened to implode with airlessness, and still he kept her under, blackness grabbing at her with eager fingers and erasing her consciousness speck by speck.
She had just enough awareness left to feel him come inside her and wonder whether the roaring was a sign of his orgasm or her mind about to pass out from suffocation.
She felt her head jerked out of the water like a puppet on a string and from some reservoir of strength managed to draw enough energy to open one eye. The wolf looked at her keenly and steadily, and spoke. "You still there?"
She drew a deep, shuddering breath, salt still stinging the exposed cuts on her muzzle and the soreness of her cunt where his wolfhood had rubbed her painfully. "Yes, just."
He moved his paw from the top of her head to the back, cradling her upright and moving gently backwards to withdraw his cock from her. "I'm glad." Leaning forward, he licked at the largest cut on her muzzle gently. In turn she sat upright in the foamy mix of brine, blood, wolfcum and sweat, and nuzzled the side of his neck where she had sunk her teeth in. The tang of his blood overcame the bitterness of brine in her mouth.
"You are _such_ a complete bastard, you know?" she purred as she licked.
"You bring it out in me, my dear. Shall we get out of the water?" He helped her to stand, trembling slightly, and they limped to the beach where they sprawled in the wet sand shaking themselves dry.
"I hurt absolutely everywhere," stated the leopardess, not as a complaint but as a matter-of-fact statement. "And my legs are tired."
The wolf waved a paw as though to dissociate himself from blame. "Who was it who thought she was getting a little too sleek and out of condition? Who was it asked me if I had any ideas for getting back in shape? Who went overboard on the notion of a training run and started embellishing it with incentives to make herself work harder?"
"Oh, all right. Me."
"Well," mused the wolf, "if I run you this hard three or four times a week I think you'll be toned up in no time. Next run, you get five yards less start, and if I catch you before the beach I'll eat you where you fall."
"Promises, promises." The leopard stretched to her feet, followed shortly by the wolf, and each with a paw round the other's waist they trudged up the beach towards the cliffs.