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Book One: Asuragiari

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

For too long had the mountains and valleys surrounding Sodom been a wasteland, an acrid wilderness posing great danger to even the most seasoned of travellers. Bandits and thieves lay oft concealed in shadowed nooks, sharpening weapons with the rough edge of a stone, ever watching and ever waiting with growling bellies. A family of two-legged canines trekked through the unforgiving terrain, their orange-beige fur and dignified muzzles dressing them as pure bred Canaan dogs. The dog at the head of the group raised his muzzle, which was graced with threads of grey, towards the breeze and sighed as if the weight of the world rested firmly upon his shoulders. Demurely, his wife pressed the heel of her sandal into the dirt, deigning to pay heed to his world weary sigh: she had heard too many of them in her time. She was shorter than he, roundly cheerful in natural nature, and her iris blue eyes shone with intelligence, a sharp cunning traced down her bloodline. Their two daughters, carrying bulky travelling sacks, waited silently for their father to survey the land. The taller sister stood with her eyes downcast, the corners of her lips turned down, while the second, elder sister stared out at the land with ears pricked and a challenge in her stance.

"It appears that we have arrived," the lead canine, Lot, said with an air of great deliberateness, painfully slow. "This, my family, is Sodom." He sounded the word as if it came forth with difficulty. "We shall stay here with my dear friend, Raguel. I do trust that he shall be a most gracious host and you shall be his most just and honest guests."

Edith, his wife, knew all of this, yet nodded politely, saying nothing. Lot had always been a canine of formalities and tradition at the head of their family, though she could not deny that she had lost faith in his leading paw. As if to colour her wayward thoughts, unbecoming of a wife, Lot scratched behind his ear, ruffling through his thinning hairline: age told no tales. Despite boasting a scant few years of youth over her husband, Edith wondered when it would be her time to 'welcome' the consequences of age.

The elder daughter, Pheine, looked over the sand-coloured city, lip curled with distaste. It may as well have risen from the sand beneath their hind paws for all the variation it offered. She rubbed her one sandal against her opposing leg, sniffing quietly enough so that she would not draw attention to her unspoken opinion. Glancing slyly at her sister, younger but taller with the slimmest figure of the family, Pheine coughed into her paw. Turning her nose up from the dust, Thamma frowned, shaking her head from left to right so slowly that it was barely discernible as a head shake at all.

"Are we to descend to the city or stand here upon ceremony?" Pheine muttered, softly enough that only Thamma's sensitive ears caught the words. Her sister's frown deepened and she said bit the inside of her cheek, distrusting her tongue with her father within earshot.

Lot would undertake everything in his own time and it was with a heavy exhalation that he finally roused, scratching his rotund belly as his shorter, typically fluffy tail swayed uncertainly from side to side. He gestured to his wife and adjusted his modest, brown skirt, the white stripes across his upper back striking when his torso remained bare of clothing. He longed for the comfortable, embroidered cloth, something only wealth could acquire; his coarse attire itched at best, more so when the heat of the day brought beads of sweat to dampen his fur. If he and his family had travelled in their best garments, dyed to make a rainbow fade with envy, they would have been a glaring target for outlandish rogues. Sacrifices had to be made.

Lot started down the rough slope without warning, leaving the female furs to scramble in his wake. Loose stone caused them to slip and slide, Thamma clinging on to Pheine's arm with a vice-like grip, fearing for her footing. Pheine huffed, rattling off a steady stream of complaints in her head - she would not have dared to voice them aloud - and hiked up her unwieldy robe to avoid the sharp rocks. Despite her best efforts, a fine layer of dust clung to the fibres, painting her as a canine of the lower classes, even more so with the shawl cast over her shoulder like a mutt's daughter. She wrinkled her nose, pawing at the soft, fabric felt cinching the material too tightly around her waist, retaining her modesty. What was modesty? Uncomfortable, it seemed.

Thamma's eyes felt as if they were about to leap out of her skull to explore of their own accord once surrounded by the city walls. There had been no singular, main entrance to the city and she was surprised to discover their chosen route unguarded, even if the citizens appeared at first glance to be normal and unobtrusive to the environment. There was the same easy distinction between the classes that could be seen in any other city, such as the clothing worn and tasks undertaken, some furs carrying pots down to the well while those in power strode unburdened. She wished that she had the courage to ask questions of a group of nearby female furs, who were intent upon their task of drawing water from the small well set in the middle of a carts and merchants, a hub of activity. Her father had never had much good to say about Sodom, however, so she remained cautious yet wide-eyed.

"Where does Raguel live?" Edith asked by way of making conversation. The long, rather quiet journey had taken a toll on her and she longed for conversation that flowed like a fine wine, cursing her husband's silence. Lot glanced at her from the corner of his eye and shuffled forward with greater haste, ears slanting back.

"Not far, Edith," he assured her mildly. "Do not concern yourself. We shall be indoors in due course."

She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and said nothing, duly nudged back into her place. How she yearned to question... Keeping a close eye on her daughters, so innocent and beautiful in her mind, she ensured that they followed, though not as near to her heels as she would have preferred. Pheine had a faraway gleam in her eyes, only directed after her parents by Thamma's guiding paw, and the younger daughter's open wonder made a faint smile tug at Edith's lips. The older Canaan's tail wagged, fluffy white fur fluttering in the breeze: so innocent.

The group paused in front a wooden door with a small carving of a rabbit set at chest level. The home was potentially modest with few exterior extravagances, but their host for the coming days was said to be a humble fur, though he did not want for coin or knowledge. Raising a paw, Lot knocked heavily and wheezed a cough; the dust of the day had affected his tired lungs. Someone moved within the dwelling and the door opened noiselessly to reveal a Californian rabbit on about eye level with Edith, white with black ears and a dark, twitching muzzle. His grey eyes roamed from one family member to the next, taking every single one of them in without revealing a trace of emotion.

"Raguel," Lot said calmly. "What a pleasure it is to see you."

"As it is a pleasure to see you, old friend," Raguel replied quickly, too quickly. He stepped back and held one arm out to the side. "Please, enter."

Bowing, Lot entered first, wife and daughters a pace behind. Pheine's eyes narrowed critically as she observed Raguel's humble abode; her subsequent sniff was barely polite. Thamma, on the other paw, was fuelled by curiosity, awed by fresh surroundings, and smiled kindly at their host, who slid his gaze away blankly.

"It is a lovely home you have here, Raguel," Edith spoke up, voice strong and confident. The rabbit wrinkled his nose and smoothed his ears back with one paw, muzzle tilting skyward.

"It is not my home," he replied, presenting a shoulder to Edith, body rigid. "The innkeeper is away on business so the task falls to me to man the door if expecting guests. He does not have many rooms here - it is a compliant building to manage." He paused, whiskers twitching. "Please, follow me to a more comfortable arrangement. I would not have you standing as we talk."

Rattled by his wife's forwardness, Lot shook his head, eyes intense as he stared the plump canine down, his body square to hers. Edith bit down a growl, a spark of defiance flaring deep within her gut. She had not meant to infuriate Raguel, how could Lot not see that, let alone misunderstand? Was it so unfeminine for her to show her appreciation of Raguel's generosity in hosting them? Her tail curled down against her rump. No: no, it was not wrong.

Raguel took no notice of their silent confrontation and led the way into a pleasant reception room set with low, functional seating. The seats were complete with modest cushions for comfort, spaced around a circular table upon which a simple but colourful pot stood, sides curved to meet a gaping rim. It was far from the comforts of home that the family had become accustomed to, but the rabbit, the poor lapine, believed he was offering them the epitome of luxury. He motioned to them to sit and they did as bid, Pheine sweeping her robe to the side and pulling her lips back in a canine smile, careful to not show her teeth. She had little idea as to why they were there - the daughters were rarely party to important information - and was reluctant to offend their host by probing. The little she did know came from deciphering what she could from her father's notes, penned in a crude paw and recklessly unguarded one drunken evening. Their visit concerned supplying Raguel with assistance, though she could not know of what kind. There was some force of holiness or sin in Sodom that she was yet to discover.

Uncomfortable with silence, Edith shuffled her hind paws, shifting as she sought out a position that would put her at ease. The corners of Lot's black lips turned down in a miniscule frown, observing his friend. Raguel had not slept in days.

"I came with due haste upon receiving your message," Lot said, breaking the overly polite hush. "Is there news?"

"None, none to be heard," Raguel shook his head, long ears drooping. "It's been six moons since I last saw her muzzle. She is somewhere within the city, concealing herself in sin. Do you think..." He trailed off, lowering his muzzle to his paws.

Sin? Thamma's ears pricked discreetly and listened intently, muzzle obediently angled downwards. Why would sin be significant part of Sodom beyond the norm?Why was sin even so important? Most of it did not seem to be that bad. Thamma breathed a sigh. On the tan cushion at her side, Pheine smiled privately to herself, wondering at how her father had not ushered the females from the room at the slightest mention of the unholy; he was apt to do that. So apt, in fact, that it was only by listening at closed doors that she had heard more than her innocent younger sister.

"Ah," Lot rubbed an ache from his shoulder, fingers rasping through the thick fur. "That is the way of Sodom. You should not have ventured here."

Raguel observed him gravely, raising his muzzle and folding his paws together in his lap.

"Yet you are here," he offered. "You must be of the mind that there is something you may do for my wife and I?"

"Of a kind," Lot said, swallowing hard to buy time. "The situation must be observed for the next few days. It is likely that I will succeed in locating your wife in the city."

"And then?"

"And then," Lot rubbed the bridge of his snout. "We shall see." Raguel slumped.

"Yes, we will see..." The rabbit trembled. "She's only likely to be located if she is not being raped by her captors," he added lowly, as if he did not want his words to be heard.

"She was kidnapped?" Lot's eyes narrowed to slits. "In your letter, you claimed that she left willingly to the lure of the body."

"My wife would never walk into the arms of sin."

Lot privately felt, from his lofty awareness, that Raguel's canine wife, sister to Edith, was far more likely to walk into the sin of fornication and lust than his family. After all, they were the ones offering holy aid in such a terrible time. Suddenly conscious of the female members of his family, he looked them over sternly, confident that they would not stray from the path of righteousness under his guiding paw. He would not allow them to. Hefting his bulk from the low seat, he advanced on Raguel, appearing like the carnivore that he was in stride and air of command. Raguel flinched, shrinking back.

"Do not worry, friend," Lot placed his paw genially on the seated lapine's shoulder, patting twice. "We shall have your wife returned, healthy, whole and free from sin. Now, we must rest and regain our strength."

Hopelessly, the rabbit nodded, rising gracefully to his hind paws. He could do nothing, nothing other than follow Lot's lead: it was out of his paws.

"Allow me to show you to your quarters."

*

Lot's family retreated to their private quarters for the evening. The innkeeper, a pale furred Corsac fox as Raguel described him, had allowed one room for Lot and Edith and a smaller, simpler room for their daughters, connected by an adjoining door. Pheine did not consider the furnishings to her taste and fingered the threadbare window hangings with a disapproving 'tut', tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. Thamma perched on the very edge of the bed like a bird about to take flight from its captor's paw.

"What they said about Raguel's wife," Thamma began, a shiver trickling down her spine. "What they said...do you think she is really living in sin? What will come of her?" Pheine snorted.

"How is mating a sin? Sometimes sin conflicts with culture or even nature," she stated brashly, arrogance tainting her words. "How else are we supposed to procreate?"

Thamma gasped and put her paws to her muzzle, glancing over her shoulder as if she feared that her father would materialise upon the mere mention of disobedient words.

"How could you say that, Pheine?" She muttered reproachfully. Scratching her chubby stomach, Pheine barked a laugh that echoed briefly around the room.

"Because... Do you truly believe in your heart that how our father lives is holy? He says one thing and does another," Pheine struggled to explain. "He lives in fear and, if it came to it, I doubt he would follow the Lord's word in a time of crisis."

"You do not know that."

Pheine considered that notion, cupping her cheek. She sprawled out on the pile of blankets that sufficed as a bed and inhaled the plain, near odourless scent of the fabric. There was something deeper in the aroma that she could not place.

"Perhaps you are correct," she said at last, already tired of this line of conversation. "Let us say no more. I am going to rest."

Turning her pale orange and white muzzle into the blankets, Pheine breathed into the blankets, concentrating on the stroke of breath passing between her lips. The wilderness trek had drained her of her usual vigour and she was not one to take kindly to sleeping in unfamiliar surroundings. She knew she would be awake half the night, pacing the room until her father appeared in immeasurable wrath, ordering her return to sleep with a stern snap of his jaws. Pheine stifled a growl and flattened her ears, struggling to swing her thoughts in a more pleasant direction, something inviting to dreams, dreams that she should not have dreamt. Illuminated by the evening sun, the room was flooded with light so strong that, even when night should have closed in around wakeful furs, one could still count the hairs on one's palm, if so wished. She vaguely anticipated the evening meal, which Raguel would provide for them - something exotic, she hoped. The Canaan dog's stomach rumbled.

But sleep, even in the form of a refreshing nap, refused to come easily. Somewhere, too near, there was a persistent thumping like a fur drumming their hind paws upon compacted earth: ta-da-dum, ta-da-dum, ta-da-dum. She bit her tongue and resisted the urge to leap up and clout her sister about the head.

"Thamma?" Pheine groaned, nuzzling into the blankets. "Thamma. Thamma stop making that noise."

"It's not me," her sister huffed, patting her hair into place. "Perhaps you would like to inform street goers that your nap is being disturbed?"

"Not you?"

"No, not me, Pheine."

Muttering, Pheine heaved herself off the bed, padding up to the narrow window covered with a bolt of scratchy fabric, solely available to protect the female furs privacy. She hated it. It was as if she was being trapped in the room, hemmed in. Peering outside, she blinked in the stronger light, tail stirring the cloth about her legs. There were male furs outside. That fact in itself was not unusual but the males beneath Pheine's window were... There was no polite way to put it. The males were in various states of undress, some entirely naked. Far from reeling away in shock, Pheine stood fascinated, nose twitching. She had never seen a naked male.

"Is there a celebration outside?" Thamma asked, trying to sneak a look around her sister, blocking the majority of the window. "Let me see!"

Wordlessly, Pheine shuffled to her right, allowing her sister a glimpse, too entranced to concede more viewing space. Thamma leaned forward, tail wagging, and recoiled just as swiftly. Eyes wide, she looked from Pheine to the exterior and back again, battling with natural curiosity as a blush warmed her cheeks. Shrugging, Pheine rested her paws on the window ledge, poking her nose carefully over into the street, conscious of remaining unseen; it was hardly any time at all before Thamma peeked over her shoulder, the taller canine holder on to Pheine for support. So many males! And species' that Thamma had never seen before! Striped hyenas, loincloths barely covering their privacy, cackled around Arabian horses with dished faces and one, fearful Nile crocodile stared regally over bowed muzzles, his scaled cousins giving him a wide, respectful berth. Too many to count or list, more and more furs poured down the street with every pounding heartbeat, blood roaring in the younger sister's ears. She shook her head in wonder, mixed confusion, and jabbed Pheine in the ribs.

"What are they doing?" She said, unable to drag her eyes away.

Having no answer, Pheine placed a paw on Thamma's shoulder, intent on the scene below. She inched dangerously far over the ledge, grasping Thamma for support; the sister's clung on to one another as if to anchor themselves in the present, fearing something tangible beyond their fingertips. They only had to reach out for knowledge to be theirs, if they dared. Thamma prodded her sister's shoulder, pointing out a cobra whose tongue flickered between thin lips, the watching canines too aware of the deadly fangs contained within. Snakes were not to be trusted, or so Lot always claimed. Were they so bad? Questions - there were too many questions for Thamma to comprehend. Hasty breath caught in her throat and tickled her sister's ear as she pressed close, afraid to speak too loudly.

"Why do you think they are here, these males of Sodom?"

Pheine had no answer.

Downstairs, Raguel heard the commotion and paced the reception room like a caged beast, a predator trapped for a crowd's amusement. His steps carried him from wall to wall and he turned automatically upon reaching one or the other, blood chilled. The last time he had seen males congregate had been when his wife disappeared. Who had they come for? Was it Lot's daughters or, Lord forbid, his wife? Oh, how he missed Ansha. She could atone for her sins in Sodom, he was confident, if only he could have her back in his arms and household. They could be away from the sinful land, misdemeanours forgotten, forgiven. The crowd cheered several times in quick succession, drawing him to sharp reality, and dissolved into an ominous silence that stretched on and on, seconds melding into minutes. When the knock finally came upon the door, the rabbit trembled, straightening with a great force of will.

"Raguel? What is this commotion?" Lot ambled his way into the reception room and followed the rabbit to the door when no answer was forthcoming. "Raguel? Are these patrons of the inn?"

"No," Raguel said. "They are males of Sodom, citizens, the people. Perhaps there are some females amongst them. I do not know why they are here."

"And you answering to them?" Lot looked him up and down incredulously. "Is that... Forgive me. Is that wise?"

A fur outside hollered to the stamping of hind paws and lewd cries that Lot did not like to discern the meaning of. The ground beneath Lot and Raguel shook as if grasped in the hold of an earth tremor, rocking them until there was nothing other than pounding and shouting, demanding attention. Raguel fought not to curl up in a corner of the room, flee the scene. But he could not stand to do that; the door had to be answered, there was no choice. What if his wife was among the males?

"Allow me, Lot," he said firmly as he stepped forward. "I shall put an end to this madness."

His paw trembled, but the frightened fur placed it firmly on the door and pushed, opening it with a strained creak. The crowd cheered, males lolling on one another with vulgar grins. One raised a cup of an indefinable substance to Raguel and the rabbit stiffened. A heinous mistake: his wife was nowhere to be seen.

"We come for Raguel!" They roared, stomping their feet like a band of drums, leather skins stretched taut.

"Me?" Raguel shook his head. "What would you have from a poor fur? I have nothing to give. Where is Ansha? Where is my wife? Is she well? Why have you not brought her home to me?"

"No, we have not come to bring a willing female home to chains," a slender Arab stallion chuckled, linking his arm through that of another equine presumed to be his brother, if appearance was to be trusted. Brushing his black mane off the arch of his neck, the horse snorted, coat gleaming with good health.

"We have come for you," he continued, surprisingly formal. "We invite you to join us as your wife has joined us as citizens of Sodom. You should never desire to leave if you will but experience a portion of what we offer you on bended knee."

If his muzzle had not been covered with fine fur, Raguel would have fallen ghostly white. As it was, all blood drained from his muzzle and he swayed, reeling like a drunkard. Lot placed his palm on the rabbit's shoulder, imagining that he steadied his friend even if the action provided minimal physical support. Prey to self-preservation, the canine did not want to be the one to catch Raguel if he toppled over.

"No..." Raguel muttered, shaking his head over and over as if by shaking it for long enough he could alter present events. "I will not let you take me, take me into sin. Leave now! Never return! Leave!"

The horse huffed out a laugh and bobbed his muzzle. The little cloth clothing that he had worn - a serviceable loincloth - fell to the ground, revealing a soft, drooling equine member. Raguel flinched.

"We will only leave with you, Raguel," he said. "We have much to offer you. Do you not want to see your wife?"

"Enough!" Lot visibly trembled, his canine ears splayed to the sides in an appeasing manner. "You will not take Raguel from the inn. Leave now and bring his wife to us. You have no use for one such as her in your midst."

"If Raguel deignsss to join usss...then we may induccce another to the joysss beyond your door," a snake hissed, tongue flickering between his emerald lips. "Whichhh of you will walk willingly to usss?"

"None! None of us!" Raguel shook and tried to force the door closed, stalled by a hoof in the way as one of the horses stubbornly jammed it between the door and the frame, eyes flashing. "Leave me! Leave us!"

The furs muttered amongst themselves and shook their heads, unwilling to concede defeat. They had come for a fur and it was a fur they would have. The black stallion that had spoken first rested his paw intimately upon his like-coloured brother's waist, smirk ghosting across his lips.

"What of you then, dog?" He pointed at Lot. "Are you one that is willing to experience something beyond yourself, an outsider's adventure? Will you offer yourself in Raguel's place?"

Him? Lot gaped at them. They wanted him instead of Raguel? Impossible! He would never. But there were so many of them - too many to battle through to safety. The old canine's paws trembled terribly and he folded them into the fabric of his skirt. If the crowd was so disposed, they could easily force entry to the house. And what would they do to him then? Lot turned his head wildly this way and that, mindlessly searching for escape that deigned to leap forth in kindness or need. Trapped, he was trapped. He knew of the citizens of Sodom. If not Raguel, he was to go and be raped by the males that he had sought to protect his friend and his family from. What could one canine do against such a throng of sin? In his frozen panic, Edith silently appeared at his side, muzzle cocked inquisitively and eyes as bright as ever, too innocent.

"What is happening?" She asked pleasantly, her husband shaking against her side. "Lot, are you quite well?"

I cannot be the one to go... Lot thought, pressing his paw to his forehead where he felt the most persistent throbbing. They will not leave without one...one of us. No. I shall not be one of them. It shall not be me. They shall not have me.

Edith blinked, tucking a wayward piece of hair behind her pricked ear, tail wagging. It was a special treat to see her husband so flustered, although she was not entirely certain as to what had made him so anxious with him blocking the doorway with his bulk. There were others outside, that much she knew. Had they not come to return Raguel's wife? Poor soul.

"Here! Take her!" Lot snapped, desperation snapping as Edith jumped, lips parted but wordless. "Take her instead and leave us! You will not have us!"

Hasty decisions often remembered regret. Lot shoved Edith in the small of her back and, wide eyed, she stumbled on to the street into several pairs of paws. The males helped her regain her balance with a level of courtesy that she found surprising, considering her prior, albeit tainted, knowledge of them. Casting her eyes over the crowd, she wondered why her husband had thrust her beyond the threshold. She was faintly surprised to notice females amongst the males, comfortable with their proximity and behaviour, though she could not claim that she was uncomfortable with the hardly clad 'studs' either.

Edith shivered anxiously, finding it difficult to draw on true fear of these furs. She had heard much about them and their ways, although it was more cruelly enticing than repulsive to her mind. Swallowing, she looked back at her husband, already closing the door on her heels. Her expression hardened. The coward could not wait to be rid of her, as long as he was locked up safely with his friend. Such a coward, an old coward. She tired of him.

"I shall accompany you," Edith said loudly and clearly, the tail end of her declaration drowned in a chorus of rambunctious cheers.

Edith stiffened as the two equines grabbed her upper arms in a firm but eager grip, directing her away from the door that may have provided her safety. There was no sense of danger about the crowd besides the unnerving sense that she was being led away from everything that she had ever known: her daughters, her husband, her hemmed in world. The husband who had pushed her away. Some protector. The canine's heart hardened and she resolved to think no more of him. Had he not thrown her out on to the street in fear for his own hide? And now she would show him just how a willing Canaan dog of good breeding and blood could behave when she so wished.

There was more to life and worship than what Lot preached.

The streets whipped by in a delirious blur and Edith was surprised to find herself stumbling to a halt, tripping over sandaled feet, however swiftly and courteously she was steadied. An ibex with magnificent horns curving back over his tawny head and neck smiled, licking lips with a long, dark tongue. She wondered what he could do with that tongue. Chilled with forbidden knowledge, Edith knew what would happen and bade the nerves to quiet as they chased her heartbeat quicker and quicker. Not far before the canine was a well surrounded by furs, where the market stalls had been placed earlier in the day. She swallowed her anxiety and tried to give the ibex a small smile in return, memorising every detail of his defined abdominal muscles: he was clearly a fur that undertook heavy labour as his life skill.

"My friends!"

A camel with a single hump clambered on to the crumbling stone wall surrounding the well, though Edith had not laid eyes on him in the crowd before - there were so many different furs! She blinked, mouth suddenly as dry as the land she called home. The camel waved one arm above his head, loose robes caked with dust, and called for attention. An unknown fur slid a paw down Edith's back to her rump, squeezing lightly.

"My friends," he repeated once the reverberating murmurs had quieted. "We left our homes to draw Raguel from his home, for him to celebrate as one of us, to invite him to partake in the _joys_we have to offer him."

He paused, allowing the crowd a cheer, stamping their hind paws and hooves in thunderous assent.

"We did not leave the inn with the one we searched out," he continued, eyes dark with emotion. "We have failed in that mission, my friends. We requested the presence of his companion, the Canaan dog, but were again rejected. Instead, we find ourselves in the company of another that came with us willingly in the place of either male that refused our company. Let us show her what delights Sodom holds in her streets! Let the celebration begin!"

An unusually concise speech, Edith commented inwardly, thoughts deafened by cheers. They were a very loud city.

There were more females than she had initially realised; they wove their way through the crowd, rubbing against males in their partial or full nudity. A vixen with a dust-coloured coat, large ears and a rainfall of grey fur cascading over her shoulders flashed Edith a cheeky grin, arching her slender body against a like-coloured fox, his hard shaft pressed to her stomach. With his pink length trapped between their heated bodies, he ground sensually into her fur and rolled his head, panting as he anticipated sinking into a different kind of warmth. Edith inhaled, lust colouring her vision.

As if in a dream of the most exotic kind, Edith allowed many pairs of paws to disrobe her, gently placing her clothing to the side, where it was swiftly forgotten. An equine muzzle brushed her lips, inviting her to taste him, and she dipped her tongue against his, a low moan building, wracking her body. A pair of scaled paws trailed down her chubby, womanly thighs and a serpent flicked his dark tongue across her folds, teasing the overly sensitive flesh. When had she last been touched there? It was impossible to recall. The Canaan dog shuddered and whined in need as another male slid his arms around her waist, drawing her rear against a throbbing erection with a fearfully large knot at the base.

"Give in," the bay equine - she had not even taken note of who she was kissing - advised, kissing down her neck with a lover's finesse. "Do not fight what your body wants. None here will hurt you. We of Sodom are citizens of pleasure."

She did not intend to hold back, she tried to tell him, but his lips crushed passionately to hers and rational speech fluttered out of reach. That was the fact! The pleasure was her first in three decades - more if one counted the time spent waiting to be chosen by her husband as his virgin bride. Oh, she had forgotten the pleasure! And how she had _missed_it! Panting, Edith nodded, words evading her grasp, and reached back to the knotted cock grinding between her plump rear cheeks. The desert-shaded fox, as he was revealed to be, nipped her neck with sharp, little teeth and Edith moaned loudly, wriggling her rear in what she hoped was an inviting manner. Snaking his tongue between the soft lips of the canine's sex, the snake smiled in his own teasing, wriggling the agile appendage into her warm passage. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Edith groaned.

Her consent was implied and she lay back on the ground, legs spread wide and twitching under the influence of that dark, slithering tongue. Although the hard-packed earth was unwelcome against her back, Edith barely noticed the discomfort when the snake was displaced by her friendly fox. The vulpine grinned, teeth parted like those of a feral, while she whined, begging him to fill the empty space between her thighs. How could she deny what her body craved? Dropping heavily to his knees between her legs, the fox dragged her lower body up so that her rump rested on his thighs, sex glistening with arousal. His red member tickled her folds as he leaned forward, eyes sparkling, and bucked, sinking the first two inches into his partner's willing sex.

Clenching her teeth, the canine arched viciously, shoulders braced against the packed earth. A forest of legs surrounded her and, through the dense crowd, she was unsurprised to bear voyeur to other copulating couples and threesomes. An ibex cradled a sprawled equine close as he thrust into her sex, thighs splattered creamy white with their combined arousal, eye lidded and nostrils flared. Edith licked her lis, breath catching as her cunt was so filled, aching to be pounded into the heights of womanly delight. Thrusting deep into the canine, the sandy fox gasped, ears splayed, and thrust slowly, hips rolling sensuously. Above Edith's muzzle, a pair of spotted legs folded into a crouch and a leopard caressed her voluptuous breasts, purrs rumbling. Shuddering, Edith wrapped her arms around the leopard's legs, using him for support as his barbed, feline member swayed tantalisingly close to her parted lips.

"More!" She cried, holding tight to the voyeuristic leopard.

Though the fox was undoubtedly enjoying the moment, Edith growled at his pace, aching to be mated like the mare, now sprawled on the ground as another male took his place at her creaming sex. Willing to please, he sped up, arching over Edith's body so that his dancing tongue and lips could play with her breasts, playfully battling the leopard's paws for dominance that neither truly won. Gently, he caught one nipple between his teeth and tugged, huffing warm breath over the pink nub.

Whimpering like a pup receiving its first taste of milk, Edith bucked, succumbing to pleasure as the fox's knot pressed insistently to her outer lips, demanding entrance. He half sunk the knot into her sex before pulling back with a yip, disinclined to secure his knot within her warm cunny just yet. Edith trembled and tightened her grip on her leopard friend, feeling as if she would float away if she did not anchor herself in the present of lust and sensation, acrid earth and slick arousal. A pair of balls swung above her muzzle and, freshly mischievous, Edith extended her flexible, canine tongue to cup and stroke them softly, earning herself an approving moan.

So appreciative of her efforts with his balls was the leopard that he was kind enough to angle his hips down so that his feline shaft was within the reach of her lusting tongue and lips. With only a flicker of hesitation - Edith had only heard of female furs placing their lips on a male's member before - she traced her tongue languidly from base to the tip. Her eyes widened at the slightly salty taste of sweat and enticing male musk, a potent aphrodisiac. Curious, she took the tip of his length between her lips and suckled down a pearly bead of pre, the leopard pushing another inch into her muzzle with a soft moan. The fox pounded into her sex, paws curled beneath her thighs, whining breathlessly every other thrust. Unversed as she was in intercourse, Edith anticipated his oncoming orgasm and licked the barbed shaft in her muzzle with relish, lavishing attention upon the head.

Thrusting with renewed determination, the fox popped his knot into the female fur's sex and yelped out his orgasm, the surprised canine on the bottom emitting a muffled moan, muzzle full of cock. Wriggling under the sensation of being so filled by a male's seed, something that she had not experienced since the conception of her second pup, Edith took every inch of the leopard's throbbing cock between her lips in a long, drawn out suck. Groaning loud enough to turn heads, the leopard massaged her breasts, glancing up as other males moved in, tails lashing and teeth flashing.

Almost before the fox had finished climaxing, Edith was flipped around on to all fours, curled tail raised up against her back. Soft paws pressed around her sex, easing the fox's knot free, despite his growls of protest: it was not his place to lay claim to any female. The leopard was forced to withdraw from Edith's muzzle and swiftly disappeared into the crowd to find another partner, hard length bobbing with his bouncy stride. Everything happened so quickly! A petite gerbil replaced the leopard, kneeling before her and offering his adequately sized cock to her panting muzzle, a shy blush colouring his large, round ears. Another male dropped heavily to his knees at her rear and speared a smooth skinned shaft into her snatch. Edith groaned but did not glance back to see what fur was claiming her sex - it did not matter. Hips rocking with the male's needy thrusts, she stared upwards at the stars and sturdy buildings. In a trick of the light, Edith chanced that she saw her daughter, Pheine, peering out of a gaping, dark window and trembled on the edge of climax.

No, no... Edith fought logic with passion as orgasm struck sense of presence from her mind. It cannot be her, no. But oh...

She wished her daughters could have seen her truly as she was for the first time in their as yet short lives. If Pheine had been watching, she would have seen the sticky fox cum dripping down her thighs, staining her fur with evidence of delicious liaison, her mother arching to take the unknown male deeper and harder than ever before. The thought made the canine tremble and her sex twitch in spasms reminiscent of climax.

As she returned to her senses, moaning under the ruthless pounding, Edith curled her tongue around the smaller shaft in her muzzle, lashing the underside to a chorus of lost gasps. Furs caught in the throes of pleasure surrounded the canine, growling, yelping and moaning as they sounded out their carnal delights at the epitome of lust. They had no will to care about their surroundings or who may be watching them; they were one and the same to each other. The gerbil rested his paws behind Edith's ears, scratching gently, and she dove on to his narrower length until the slender tip touched the back of her throat, her nose pressed into the light grey fur of his crotch.

A larger group of males centred their attentions upon the canine - a range of exotic species - stepping closer with erect, inviting shafts and similarly refined smiles. They stroked themselves with what she would have once regarded as fury but now recognised as lust; they rubbed their hardness through her well groomed fur, leaving trails of creamy pre cum behind. The first jet of seed landed across her back and was rapidly followed by more, soaking into her orange and white coat so that she imagined herself a creature of passion and marked as such. The gerbil spurted his load into her muzzle and, falling prey to lust, she swallowed it down with a low, unexpected murr of delight. It was delicious, thick, musky and irrevocably salty. She wanted more.

A striped hyena nudged the gerbil aside, sliding a dark coloured rod between her lips and, winding his fingers into Edith's hair, laughed a wild hyena laugh. Edith was unsure when the male behind her had swapped places with another, but a differently shaped shaft dove into her snatch. She did not care who was giving her pleasure as long as it was there. However, she could not have anticipated the surprise that the unknown fur had in store. Withdrawing his length, the male rubbed his fingers through the drooling feminine juices, mixed with seed, and smeared the mixture across the tight, virginal bud of Edith's tail hole. She jerked instinctively but felt a strange sense of trust for these males; they had shown no desire to hurt her, after all, so why should she not trust them? It felt right. Being males of Sodom, she supposed that penetration beneath one's tail was something in which they frequently engaged, so she kept her tail raised submissively and her body relaxed in preparation.

Squeezing one finger, then two, into her tight tail hole, the male spread her natural lubricant well, only then presenting the tapered tip of his member to her previously forbidden entrance. Edith whimpered, light pain sending a twinge through her nerves, and sought to distract herself by taking the hyena's shaft as deeply into her muzzle as possible. Her tail hole resisted entry for a second and then parted around the gently curved invader, allowing inch after slow inch to sink under her tail, driving her into an unusual sense of fullness. Edith twitched and swallowed a moan as an impossible amount, or so it seemed, of his maleness sank into her tail hole, having never explored the limits of her body. He groaned behind at her rump, caressing gently and drawing his shaft back only to thrust in with a masculine grunt. Lips strained wide around the hyena's girth, Edith only had one option: surrender. And surrender she did.

Males came and went as the evening darkened and coolness stole across the meeting place, chilling the hides of any furs without partners. For the sake of retaining warmth and continuing their orgy in the open air, citizens grouped together regardless of sex, sharing partners as many males paid their dues to one another's bodies. Edith was the most coveted of the evening and rarely in need of a warm body against hers for there was forever a surplus at her side that she took full advantage of. At one point, she lay on her back with another fur beneath her, fat cock locked firmly into her tail hole by way of a large, canine knot. The black Arabian horse that had enticed her from the inn leaned over her stomach, thrusting into her sex, nickering his pleasure, while a third, a rodent, squealed as his maleness was caressed by her pink, eager tongue. Howling through another orgasm - she had lost count of how many she had been graced with in such a short, short evening - Edith stared glassy-eyed at the stars, shining so brightly. It seemed incredible that she had never notice their clarity previously. Her body thrummed with energy and the scent of sex was heavy in the air, laughter and good spirits high.

She knew in that moment that she would never desire to be anywhere else than Sodom for the remainder of her life.

*

Beyond Edith's knowledge was a young Canaan dog on the upper floor of a suitably deserted home, which peered down into the gathering place like an all-seeing eye. She growled wantonly, one eye above the window ledge, and flattened her ears to her skull, lest she be spotted by a citizen glancing above the erotic foray. It would be her usual bad fortune. The canine panted heavily and whined, desperate to sate the ache between her thighs, which burned like a cold flame. Something strange had happened between her thighs, something she had never before experienced. The chubby Canaan dog was wet beneath her dress.

"Oh..." Pheine moaned, pressing down upon her crotch through the too-thick fabric.

There were no words for what she was experiencing, spying on her mother and so many other furs furiously mating, enjoyably so. Even in her home city, Pheine had never seen such a large group of furs openly engaging in true revelry. Any kind of celebration that she had experienced had been a religious, moral, revering affair - drastically different from the dissonance of moans and sweaty, grinding bodies. It was no contest as to which she preferred. She shivered and tugged her dress up, ignoring the nip of cooling evening air. Amongst the perpetually shifting bodies, she spied her mother again, this time with a camel kneeling at her rear. Transfixed, Pheine watched closely as the camel slid into her mother's sex, drooling great globules of seed, remnants of other males. The camel tossed his head back in what could only have been a tremendous groan of pleasure, thrusting into the canine with enough force to rock her whole body. Pheine's fingers touched the wetness between her thighs and gasped.

In the mess of furs, Edith took an ibex' member between her lips and pumped her paw along the part of the shaft that she could not reach. Hidden, Pheine dug her teeth delicately into her bottom lip, vainly self-conscious about breaking the skin, and rubbed one finger over her dripping folds. It was new, entirely so. She had never had cause to touch herself there besides during bathing, but that was different. It felt good, there was no other known word for the sensation, though the inexperienced Canaan dog thought that it could not possibly be so simplistic.

She covered her muzzle with a paw in an effort to quell her moans, cheek pressed to the cool stone below the bare square of window, as one fingertip circled a sensitive nub. A burning need seared through Pheine's veins and suddenly something more was required, though she could not discern what. She arched her back and bucked her hips, imagining being mated by an invisible partner, a strong, protective Canaan dog, paws on her hips, filling her passage over and over again until she was surely carrying his pups. The thought made Pheine tremble and she rubbed that sensitive spot of flesh harder, sexual juices soaking into her loin cloth and matting the fur on her upper thighs.

Pleasure ricocheted through the canine and she collapsed to the floor, a cushion, knocked aside by an arm flung sideways, crushed into the small of her back. She cried out passionately, her desire to be quiet forgotten, and trembled bodily, paw jammed against her sex, sticky from her feminine moisture. This was it - this was what her body craved! A small smile fluttered over her parted lips as she panted open-mouthed, struggling to regain composure and control of her body while electric sparks assaulted her senses. Logic leaped forth at the most inconvenient of times, demanding attention with a snap and a snarl. If she could feel this good mating with another fur...how could it ever be sinful? How could touching herself in that forbidden, dirty area be sinful? They had been wrong.

She sighed, satisfied in body, and lay back, dragging out the offending cushion and hugging it tightly to her bust, muzzle buried in the silken fabric. A warm glow spread through her body as if she was sitting close to an open flame upon a cold evening, but the flames were dancing inside instead of outside, warming her from within. She would rest, regain her strength, just for a little while. Eyelids drooping, Pheine forced them open wide, withdrawing her damp paw from between her thighs and marvelling at the amount of sexual fluids she had produced. All her own! It was difficult to comprehend, everything so very new. But she was tired, drained after the pleasurable ordeal. She rested her head on the ground, a woven rug comforting her acquaintance with some strange fur's reception floor. She would rest a while.

Just for a little while.

*

Lot paced the bedroom, steps heaving in the night time quiet. He could hear his daughters speaking in hushed voices on the other side of the wall but no longer had the energy to quell their female chatter. Let them be. The sleeping area was a mess of blankets and the night clothes that the canine wore did little to relinquish the grasp of night's chill, scratching his nose in spite. The woven blankets could have provided him with warmth and perhaps comfort but Lot found it distasteful to lie where his wife had lain, considering. And where was she now?

"What of my wife?" He murmured, glancing out the window to the star strewn sky, their beauty silenced. Reassurance could only come from within, so the canine paced some more, hind paws catching in the blankets. He kicked them aside, muscles stiff and juddering.

"I could not have ventured out to save Raguel. I would not have been able to offer further assistance, if that had been the Lord's will. No, I ensured the safety of my friend. My wife has done honourably by her family, undertaking the only deed that could have saved Raguel and saved me."

"Excuse me," a small voice beckoned from the doorway, interrupting.

Lot half-turned, disinterested in the small Corsac fox. One of the few handmaids at the inn, Lot had witnessed her scurrying from room to room with armfuls of linen, pale brown hind paws tip-tapping as if she always had somewhere to be. A smattering of grey fur graced the back of her neck and the remainder of her coat was a soft, off-white shade with a luxuriously fluffy finish that he suspected would be pleasing to the touch like a newborn pup's downy fur.

"Yes?" He questioned when she did not speak, eyes wide and round. "Who are you? What do you want?"

She gulped and swept her fluffy tail against her legs; a gold-coloured anklet knocked lightly against her left ankle, though her hind paws were bare.

"Your wife..." She began, backtracking after a moment. "I apologise for my rudeness. I am Esther, a servant of the inn. I came to deliver information concerning your wife."

"Yes?" He would have pounced if it had been seemly to do so, tail twitching feverishly. "Where is she? What has happened? Is my wife in sin?"

The fox, Esther, shook her head patiently, answering none of his pointed questions, ears slanting back in open sympathy.

"Your wife is safe and well," she said simply. "You should sleep now and regain your strength for the morn. It is for the best that you do so."

"Yes, yes..." Lot murmured. The fog of stress mingled with exhaustion clouded his sense, his good mind. "Yes, I should sleep. My wife will return tomorrow, I know... She will return. My wife."

Esther shivered, fur bristling, and rested her small paw delicately on Lot's arm, guiding him to the rumpled sleeping mats as if directing an obstinate child. He pulled away and collapsed on to the blankets, rolling over on to his back so that his belly bulged obstinately against the loose night clothes. Esther sighed breathily, studying him for a moment. He was lost to the waking world in seconds. Tugging the blankets up and over him, she felt beneath the coarse cloth to ensure his warmth, paw lingering over his thigh. Her cheeks flushed and she adjusted the blankets with a professional paw, though only when he snored lightly did she slip from the room, amber eyes molten with secrets suppressed.

She could not inform him of what he did not wish to hear.

*

Lot expected his wife to knock on the inn door at the crack of dawn, surely when the world of decrepit Sodom swirled into silence, inhabitants drained in illicit behaviour. The Canaan dog felt the weight of his age more sharply than ever in the grey dawn and his shoulders rounded as if he carried a heavy load, though he had never undergone a day's labour in his life.

She had abandoned him. There could be no other explanation, nothing that could reconcile Lot with the fact that his wife was not there. Perhaps she enjoyed the sins of Sodom and was no longer able to be saved, exploring the sins of Sodom like he assumed for Raguel's wife. He had given up hope on both of them. A snarl's semblance flared on the outskirts of his muzzle, sullying his refined air for the briefest of moments. He paced and paced his bedroom, the sleeping mats and blankets tossed into disarray through sleep. The young vixen had attempted to enter his room upon waking but he had flapped his paws at her, sending her away in a flurry of fur and tail back. He did not want her company or her fussing around the room, even if she had the potential to be useful. His only responsibility now was to his daughters, his family. Everything and everyone else followed behind.

Esther shrank back against the cool, tawny wall as Lot stormed past, robes whipping about his ankles. The canine thrust aside the drapes barring entry to his daughters' room and stood in the entrance, panting heavily. Both of his daughters were wrapped in their respective blankets, the woven colours muted as if dawn strove to leech brightness so that the sun may flare up into a scorching blaze. Oh, how he longed for his homeland and the comforts of such. Thamma yawned and sat up, slender form barely discernible beneath the thick blankets.

"Come," Lot mumbled, expressionless in gravity. Thamma blinked. "Only bring what you can carry. We are leaving immediately."

"Why are we leaving so early?" Thamma yawned again and Pheine burrowed deeper into the blankets.

"We have to leave," he said once more, presenting his profile to them. One day, he would have to find suitable husbands for them. But not in Sodom. He would find the Lord's males for his daughters. "Pack your belongings now."

"Where's our mother?" Pheine mumbled bravely, the tip of her dark, moist nose protruding from beneath a muted red blanket.

Lot stiffened and his fur, laced with grey, prickled. If he had been of a lesser breed, he would have raised his hackles in anticipation of a looming threat. How could he answer that question without introducing his daughters to what his wife must have experienced in all its depravity?

"Make yourselves ready to travel," he said coldly, already considering the road ahead, the most apt route. They must travel home; he longed for home. "I expect you ready before it is fully light."

He swept aside the door covering and disappeared, leaving Pheine and Thamma disconcerted. Neither dared disobey Lot when he was in such a frame of mind. Shivering, Pheine slunk from the blankets and delved into a hide pack, searching for attire that would see her through the day. Thamma glanced at the oncoming morning and, remembering her father's words, followed Pheine's lead with sisterly devotion.

"Where is our mother?" Thamma swallowed nervously, paws shaking as she folded up her night clothes, bare from head to toe.

"Put your robes on. You'll become chilled," Pheine frowned. "I know where mother is."

"Of course you do. That's not what I was asking," Thamma clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, choosing an off-white dress robe that fell down to her sandaled hind paws. She had always liked white. "We know that she went away with those males - father made her go. Why didn't she come back?"

"Maybe she liked what she saw."

"Pheine!" Thamma's eyes darkened and she stood up straight. "You cannot possibly say that. You do not know what happened: you were not there."

Pheine looked away and the skin darkened beneath the white fur on her cheeks, flaring up in a guilty, pink blush.

"I was," she said in a hushed whisper, eyes flicking towards the doorway in anticipation of her father's re-entry. Thamma's eyes widened.

"You...were there?" She repeated slowly. "Then what happened to our mother? Is she well? How did you leave the inn?"

"Father was not in his right mind last night," Pheine murmured, casting her mind back. "He... It was not difficult to slip out the front door after you fell asleep, sister. The males do not pay attention to you here, not in the manner that we are used to. They look and they make...comments...but they do not direct you home or into a household where the male of the family may take care of you. They expect females to behave as they do with little distinction. It is," she paused, "strange."

Thamma sighed and shook her head, resisting the sisterly urge to clout Pheine across the muzzle - she was forever vague.

"That's all very well, but what of mother? How is she?"

"Oh, yes," Pheine blushed, dipping her muzzle so that she stared at a spot of dusty floor between her hind paws. "She... Thamma, she was with the males."

"Well, of course she was," Thamma shook her head. "Honestly, Pheine, that is already established."

"No, no," her sister said. "She was lying with these males, many of them. Lying like when it happens between a male and a female to have a pup and continue their family line."

Thamma's paws flew to her muzzle and she gave a soft 'oh' of comprehension. It would have been comical if not for the supposed severity of the situation. Lot strode by the bedroom and the sisters froze, identical, pointed ears following his progress into the belly of the inn. The subsequent series of clanks and bangs suggested that he was gathering belongings and supplies for the journey, taking advantage of what the inn had in store. The younger sister clenched her teeth together and scraped the remainder of her possessions into the tough, hide bag, distraught at how little progress Pheine had made in comparison. Lying with males! Her thoughts whirled.

"Hurry!" Thamma muttered, ears swivelling in all directions. "You must be ready to leave."

"It is not as if I have much to pack."

Pheine looked down at the small, sad pile of worldly belongings, mostly consisting of clothing, the bare essentials for a female fur's life.

"I expect we will stay with other friends of father along the trail home," she continued, "so what we do or do not take should not be a matter of great concern."

"You sound like mother," Thamma said, biting her lip.

Pheine had no words to respond and could not continue with her tale of the aforementioned night without earning her father's wrath. Though she contested his decisions mentally, she was unwilling to openly confront him; she sensed the time to do so would come and patience would have to be utilised in the meantime. Patience was not her strength. Withholding a sight, Pheine roughly bundled up her clothes, shoving them into the pack on top of Thamma's. With how the tawny hide bulged around their stuffed clothes, she would have welcomed a roomier sack to carry their clothes but they would have to make do.

Quietly, the sisters traipsed down to the receiving room, striving to make as little noise as possible in their worn sandals. Lot stood imperiously over a pile of sacks, out of which spilled an array of lasting foodstuffs and, surprisingly, fine wine. The elder canine frowned, folding his arms across a wide chest as his belly paunch protruded.

"Take two bags each," Lot gestured jerkily, tail tucked between his legs. "We must leave - now! Quickly!"

"But why?" Thamma began, swiftly quelled by a dark, frenzied look that she had never before seen from her father. His eyes were restless, never lingering in one spot for more than the briefest of moments, as if he was a cornered prey animal. She felt as if she was seeing her father for who he was for the first time and wondered if Pheine experienced the same. Her sister may have already been enlightened.

"Are you leaving the inn already?" It was the fox handmaiden with the fine, gold anklet. She sniffed and linked her paws in front of her smooth, flat stomach, angling her muzzle downwards. "We hoped you would stay longer. Are you not waiting for your wife's return?"

"No," Lot answered bluntly, leaving no room for question. "We are not lingering."

He hesitated, regarding the vixen. Esther. That was her name. Fine. Beautiful. Pure. He had not borne witness to this young one sinning. Her purity seemed to be a given case and she was as obedient as any female should be, especially for a vixen. He had once found vixens distasteful, simmering with embers ever ready to flare into life, but perhaps the innkeeper, Malachi, had tempered her. It was a shame he was away on business, unable to guide the little vixen. As the only male in the vicinity, it was Lot's duty to see that Esther was cared for.

"You are coming with us," he said, eyes narrowing into severe slits. "This land is not for you."

Esther pricked her ears, narrow jaw falling slightly agape. Conflicted over how to respond, she rubbed one sandaled hind paw against her opposite leg, scratching away an invisible itch.

"Why would you wish to take me away?" She averted her gaze. "I have done nothing for you that was not hospitable as is deemed by my work in this inn."

"Some should not be left to sin when an alternate path is open," Lot said, a small smile curving his dark lips upwards.

Pheine suppressed the wicked urge to roll her eyes. What a ridiculous sentiment. Or so she thought, though the handmaiden appeared convinced, eyes brightening with the prospect of leaving Sodom behind. Pheine privately thought that the vixen, who could not have been any older than she was, looked like an adult in name but a child in mind: she was an innocent, as Lot had deduced. And she was coming with them.

No one attempted to prevent them from leaving the inn, which only heightened Lot's sense of paranoia. He panted, stress depicted in its most canine form, and kept his daughters close, unusually protective of the petite handmaid tailing him obediently. Though she was not one of his, he believed that he was leading her away from sordid life, undesirable to those with the Lord's blessing. He hoped and feared that the land of Sodom would soon be no more, destroyed by God's power. If only his wife was not one of them. If she was not with him, she must be one of the Sodomites.

It was too early for many to be on the streets of Sodom, despite Lot ensuring that they kept to the lesser populated side streets. A male camel, clearly intoxicated, stumbled by and Lot swept his daughters against the wall, pinning them behind a fat arm that swayed with flab. Pheine grimaced and wriggled free as soon as the harmless camel meandered along his way, stride unsteady and syllables of song bursting periodically from his lips. That male, thankfully, had been clothed. Pheine was beginning to suspect that the lack of clothing was a common, daily occurrence in Sodom and wished that she could experience the feeling of being so cool and unburdened in the heat of the day. It had to be comfortable.

Lot did not know where he was going and Esther's gentle direction passed unnoticed; having lived in Sodom, she of course knew how to navigate the city. After some time, the vixen gave up on supplying Lot with hints and advice about the best route to take as the canine was caught up in his own world. Pheine and Thamma exchanged a look when he changed direction for the umpteenth time, leading them along the outer wall of the city without making an attempt to exit its boundaries. It was as if he was trying to confuse a pursuer, but Pheine could not fathom who would be pursuing them. After what she had seen, the citizens as a whole did not seem the kind to submit to such behaviour, even if there were always unscrupulous individuals wherever one travelled.

"If mother was here," Pheine muttered to Thamma. "If mother was here, she would know how to get us out without all these twists and turns." Her expression darkened. "I hope she is okay." (1)

Danger. Lot's nose twitched. Something burned. A pillar of smoke rose from the middle of the city, the faint aroma of ash stirring fear in the pit of Lot's belly. A strange feeling settled across his mind, weighing down in the burden of knowledge, and he cast his eyes heavenwards, certain that their Shepherd was watching over them. It was a warning. His tongue lay thick in his mouth and he licked dry lips, imagining fire spreading, devouring Sodom fur by fur and building by building. Nothing would remain to suggest that such a city of sin ever existed.

They had to leave. There could be no more detours, no more cunning plans to avoid the citizens. If they met others along the way, they would simply have to run. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Lot prayed that the Lord would provide them with safe passage home. They had done nothing wrong; his family was not to be destroyed. He swept his arm forward, gesturing with a wild, caged expression.

"Hurry!" He called, eyes fearful with white rims. "It has come! Please, I implore you to hurry! We must leave the city!"

"It's just a -" Esther began.

"No!" Lot shouted, clenching his paw into a fist. "We have to leave! Judgement has come! Follow me!"

With his remaining family at his heels, the Canaan dog fled the city, wheezing as breath refused to come easily. Were the Lord's fires already at his heels? Fear spurred him on, thrusting his daughters before him when they pleaded to slow down, pleaded that their paws were sore. He could not let them stop: no, no, no. Breath raking through old lungs, the canine pushed his charges out of the streets, willing what the Lord would on the cursed city of Sodom. It was behind, he reassured silently, mumbling under his breath as their sandals pounded earth into scuffs of orange dust. They would be fine out and away from the city. He paused only a moment to draw breath, glanced to their rear, and watched the pillar of smoke creeping higher and higher.

*

Sitting on the stone lip of the cave, Pheine sighed, brushing away the caked dirt from the hem of her dress as she pretended that the action did in fact remove the ingrained filth. The cave was little better than the outdoors, spread with sleeping mats in the back corner and perpetually dim as if sunlight did not dare filter in. When it rained, water trickled down the walls and plopped to the stone floor, keeping her awake at night. The Canaan dog shivered and curled her bouncy tail in closer to her body, glad that her attire and breeding kept it out of the dirt. But how could she not feel oppressed at the thought of that dank prison of a cave? It was no home - it was not even like the inn. Her father had deemed it suitable for them to inhabit until they were able to progress on their journey, complaining that his back gave him trouble. She could not contest.

"Pheine? Pheine."

She flipped her ears rebelliously to her skull and considered baring her faintly yellowing teeth at him. For one thing, she wanted more cleansing herbs for her muzzle but their supplies had been exhausted. Thamma said she used them too often. It was all her father's fault.

"Pheine. Inside, now."

Lot was as insistent as ever. Pheine closed her eyes against the glare of the sun and imagined him sprawled out on his sleeping mat, piled with the best blankets. He could not be denied. Biting her lower lip delicately between her pointed canines, she rose gracefully to her feet and swept her dress to the side, frowning at how it fell at an angle. It had been badly cut.

Her bare hind paws made no sound as she padded into the cave, blinking for a few moments as her eyes adjusted to the gloomy light. Lot rested in the far corner, having moved his sleeping mat for some reason so that he was closer to their dwindling supplies. The sacks were painfully empty and Pheine wondered how long it would be until they were forced to move on or face the truth of growling bellies. Thamma and Esther sat on another sleeping mat, unnaturally immobile.

Taking some time to notice Pheine, Lot rolled his head and groaned, cracking his neck: Pheine flinched. Forcing a smile on to her muzzle, which she privately thought would pass unseen, she wagged her tail in hopes of appeasing her father. Lot blinked dully and sucked the mouth of a wineskin, drawing in dregs of crisp liquid.

"Take your sister and Esther to gather herbs for our meals and...and fetch more water," he acknowledged at last, studying the wineskin with undue attention. It was as if Pheine was not worth a glance in comparison. "Be swift. Darkness is coming. I do not wish for you to be outside. Be swift."

There are many hours of daylight left, Pheine thought.

She, however, chose to remain silent and bobbed her muzzle compliantly. There was a time and a place for every argument. Lot had been behaving even more irrationally than usual and, if the canine was completely honest, it worried her more and more. There had to be a change of some manner in store, otherwise their family would waste away, become nothing other than insubstantial memory.

And that Pheine could not bear.

"Of course, father," she answered as sweetly as possible. "Let us go."

Thamma exhaled lightly and rose to her hind paws, offering Esther a paw that was denied. The petite vixen pushed herself up without trouble and smiled, the gold anklet resettling as her centre of gravity shifted. Neither of them had been permitted beyond the reach of the shadowy cave that day and it was already mid-afternoon. Thamma was eager to stretch her legs and trotted straight past Pheine into the bright afternoon sunlight, a breath of air caressing her orange coat. She took a deep breath, sensing the presence of the fox at her back and her older sister clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, urging her on.

How rude... Thamma thought briefly, though she could not feel irritated for more than a passing second.

It was so_good_ to be outside! Skipping like a cub, Thamma hiked up her ankle-length robe, a muddy brown ensemble that was torn at the calf, and half-skipped half-slithered down the gentle slope, scattering a miniature avalanche of pebbles. Pheine stared and shook her head, following more sedately and assisting Esther down with a delicately raised paw. The little vixen only wore a green robe, modest but a burst of colour that was as yet unsullied by the sun's glare. Pheine could not help but feel ever so slightly jealous and, if their body shapes had not been so different, she felt that it would not have been rude to demand that she wore the breezy bolts instead.

"I don't see why we have to do this," Pheine grumbled, a low growl lacing her words.

"You said you wanted herbs," Thamma reminded, her form casting a long, slanting shadow not nearly as slim as Esther's on to the trodden down dirt.

"Hm?" Pheine's thoughts were still on the dress. "Oh, yes, herbs. Of course, we need plenty. And not just for food. That smelly, old dog should know that ladies need more than what we have."

"Pheine!" Thamma stifled a throaty chuckle. "Do not speak of father like that."

"Is it not true?" She challenged. "Esther - what do you say?"

"I could not say," Esther finally said, voice low. "Everything is so different here, I do not know what I should think of anything anymore." She flushed beneath her almost white fur, like bleached sand. Her voice was easy to listen to - even Pheine quieted, trusting her opinion. Esther swallowed dryly. "Please, let us not speak like this. I have no quarrel with you. Where shall we look for herbs?"

It was not the smoothest shift in conversation but it would have to do for the time being. After living in the cave for the past thirteen suns - Pheine counted every one - they knew the surrounding area with positive vagueness, something that may have been rectified if any of the three had been allowed outside for a longer period of time. The only reason that Pheine had been 'allowed', using the term loosely, beyond the bounds of the cave was because her father simply had not noticed her absence. She believed that he had been swallowed up by his thoughts and the fine wine, though it admittedly worked to her advantage that he was distracted. She frowned. If he was not distracted, they may have already been back in their comfortable home, perhaps even with her mother. It was all too confusing to work out as the sun beat down.

"He's probably sleeping in there now," she said instead, stomping ahead of the others, down a gentle decline to where she preferred to gather water. "Making us do all the work. He never does anything, anything at all. Everything is down to us now. Do you have the flasks, Thamma?"

"Why should Lot not rest?" Esther said, herbs spilling around her fingers.

"Yes, I have them," Thamma sighed. "Would you like me to fill them?"

"Well, how else are they going to be filled?"

Father's not the only short tempered one, Thamma thought, eyes narrowing the fraction that emotion bade her show.

She twitched inwardly, irritation difficult to conceal, and drew herself up to her full height. Sniffing, she made her way down to the trickle of a river, which was about a pace and a half wide, barely enough for their purposes. At least the water was fresh and pure, if swirling with debris, though that was only when a fur mistakenly scooped from the still pools eddying in meandering bends. Thamma had made that mistake once but not twice, as was her nature.

Busying herself, Thamma scooped water into the earthenware pots after swilling the liquid around the interior a few times - a bare excuse of cleaning them for use. Only the females had been drinking water since they had arrived at the cave; Lot refused to consume anything other than wine. She mused, dipping a paw into the water to splash droplets on her muzzle, refreshing her eyes and sluggish sensibility.

I really must be more careful not to burn. Her nose was sore from the sun's glare, but she could not bear to conceal herself within the cave all the time. She just didn't have the right herbs to mix a soothing solution. Thamma nipped the inside of her cheek, biting back the tears. She wanted to go home.

Pheine plopped down on the riverbank, drawing her knees up to her chest. It was one of the more comfortable spots in the area to sit when she was permitted further afield. It was strange to find such a pretty river, even if narrow, amongst the barren hills. Sometimes, the only life around was a wheeling bird in the sky beyond the reach of even stray wisps of cloud.

"Have you ever thought what it would be like to have a pup?" She murmured to no one in particular. Thamma stiffened.

"Pheine," she said cautiously. "What are you speaking of now?"

"Oh, nothing," the Canaan dog blushed beneath her fur, stretching out on her back. Short grass, only able to grow under the river's sustenance, tickled her neck and she closed her eyes, basking in the sun.

"Pheine, you really have been behaving odd of late," Thamma would not let it drop. "Esther, do you not think so?"

"Oh..." The vixen dipped her muzzle, fiddling with her pile of herbs. "I would not be so forward as to judge."

Clenching her jaw, Thamma set the water jugs on the bank and sat cross-legged, facing her sister. After a moment's hesitation, Esther followed suit, folding her legs delicately to the side and arranging her skirts so as to keep herself modestly covered. The vixen splayed her ears and stared down at the grass, counting them up to the highest number she knew, which was less than the number of digits on her paws. When she reached that low number, she started over, pretending that she could continue the count over and over until every blade was accounted for. It had been a long time since she had seen wild greenery.

"What is happening to you, Pheine?" Thamma said, touching Pheine's arm with a forefinger. Her sister was warm beneath her dress sleeves. "You are...changing. Growing. What are you thinking?"

Pheine did not answer, which was uncharacteristic for one as outspoken as she. That feeling was back in her belly, the simmering fire waiting to be stoked into a fierce blaze. She once again replayed what she had witnessed from the window, the males and females so energetic with lust, enjoying their bodies without shame. She wanted to experience the same but also do something for her family. Or ensure her future family. Every fur had to have a future and she saw none as Lot's daughter. Their family was at the edge of a cliff, after which there would be no more, memories wiped clean from the waking life.

She growled. Had Lot not said that Sodom had been burned, destroyed by the Lord? If her mother was indeed deceased, the daughters were the life and blood of the family, the only means of carrying on their bloodline. He did nothing to assist as the weight of family resting squarely upon the shoulders of both daughters. Pheine shook her head, suppressing anger while Thamma stroked her arm, semblance of comfort. And then the glimmer of an idea whispered into the corner of her mind.

"Maybe we should have father continue our lineage," Pheine breathed, turning to Thamma with her eyes alight.

"What?" Thamma yelped, shooting upright. "How could you think such a thing, Pheine? That is sin! He is our father. And we are not married! Our Lord says that mating is something that only comes within marriage. You know this!"

"Come on, Thamma, stop acting so shocked," Pheine rolled her eyes.

"It is sin!"

"No, it's not!" Pheine snapped. Propping herself up on one arm, Pheine narrowed her eyes, tail rigid.

"We should have been married years ago," Pheine was adamant. "Look at us - look at father! We are not living! I have seen what living is. Mother is living now, so why can we not be like her? Why must we follow an old dog's paranoia? I know the truth. We have a burden to bear."

Esther jerked her muzzle up at the second-to-last statement, paws tightening into fists. So, Pheine had seen the life of Sodom. A flicker of jealousy tickled her stomach and she looked away, reeling in emotions. She would have given so much to be like the others of Sodom, just a normal citizen celebrating the festival. She could celebrate to a point but doing more would require sacrifice that she was unwilling to make. Everything had a price. The Corsac fox saw confusion in the younger, slimmer sister's eyes, the calmer of the two. So, she understood that only Pheine had borne witness those few weeks ago. Esther could not determine which sister she envied more.

"What did you see, Pheine?" Thamma muttered, not wanting to appear too interested in the answer. Pheine was too eager to tell. She sat up, holding her paws out as if to present her sister with something magnificent.

"I'm sure Esther knows all about this," she shot the vixen a conspiring wink. "So much happened to mother that night. The furs took her to an open area with a well, we may have passed it earlier that day. It was packed with furs! Naked males and females of all kinds!"

"No..." Thamma's voice was hushed, paw rubbing her neck anxiously. "Pheine, you should not have gone. Please say no more."

"Oh, it's far too late for that now," Pheine brushed aside the reprimand. "You were sleeping, father was delirious: it was easy to leave. Anyway, when I got to them... Thamma, all of those furs were engaging in intercourse and pleasuring one another!"

She paused for effect, hiding a smirk as a look of mixed horror and longing flashed across Thamma's muzzle. Esther swallowed and folded her hands neatly in her lap, saying nothing.

"But...but..." Thamma struggled to find words. "Is that not what we came to help Raguel with? Mother's sister, Raguel's wife, left to join the citizens of Sodom. Father talks under the wine," she added by way of explanation when Pheine snorted. "I listen too."

"Is it so bad though, Thamma?" Pheine spread her paws wide. "I do not believe that the Lord would want us to live a restricted life. We are good furs and so is our mother. But we are Lot's only daughters. You know mother's sister did not have young - the inter-species thing, you don't need me to explain that. How is our family meant to continue?"

Thamma stared at the river, conscious of the vixen beside her. She could sense her frail form breathing, warmth radiating from where she perched, birdlike, on the bank. If so many took part in the sexual side of a fur's life, how could it be bad? How could it be morally wrong? The canine shook her head as if to ward off a fly. What was that about pups and their bloodline? It was too much to understand. Whether it was right or wrong, she hated the whirlpool of questions.

"You say that mother was with those furs, doing things..." Thamma was vague. "Mother always wanted the best for us. She made sure that we had the best, regardless of father's aging beliefs."

It was too much - far, far too much - to absorb all at once. Eyes watering, Thamma shot to her hind paws, near blind with emotion. Away, away: she had to get away, just for a little while. Solitude was the only method through which she could collect her thoughts without two pairs of watchful eyes taking account of every minute motion. She turned to the barren land, stretching into the distance in a series of jagged peaks and lifeless dirt. That would do. As if in a dream, Thamma placed one paw in front of the other, walking from the river to what she thought was a peaceful abode, separate from everyone, her escape. Slow to react, Pheine darted at her heels, snatching at Thamma's clothing in an effort to draw her to a halt.

"Where are you going?" Pheine's brow furrowed. "There's nothing out there. How can you walk away when we're talking?"

"Leave me alone, Pheine," Thamma said shortly, tossing her bundle of herbs to the ground as if they were no longer of any importance. Unseen by either sister, Esther gathered them into her skirts.

"No!" Pheine's eyes narrowed and she grabbed Thamma's arm in a vice like grip. "You cannot wander off! Don't be so blind to danger! This is one time that I will agree with father. You do not know what's out there. You are foolish."

"I said to leave me alone, Pheine!" Thamma snarled, curling back her lip as heated fury overcame her.

Startled, but by no means dissuaded, Pheine growled in turn, facing her sister head on.

"What is your issue, Thamma?" She snapped. "Do you _really_want to continue life as we were? Are you afraid?"

"What was wrong with that life?"

"Everything!" Pheine stomped childishly. "That is not life! Where is the enjoyment of living? Father is not religious - he pretends to be. We live under the weak pawed rule of a dog that has forgotten who he is and is operating under false pretences every other hour."

"Do not speak of father that way," Thamma said coldly. "He has done his best for us. And you sound as if you do not understand things yourself, first talking about pups and continuing our lineage, then speaking of not 'living'."

"But now we have the chance to experience more, Thamma, do you not see that?" The chubby Canaan dog's eyes lit up, deliberately ignoring Thamma's note as to her confusion. "Can you imagine how much there is to see in the world? How much to experience? We may go beyond the reach of our arm."

She did not wish to listen. Change was dangerous, change was frightening. Thamma closed her eyes and stepped back, every fibre of her being screaming to flee, to hide and to deny above all else. Pheine's paws darted out lightning quick and clasped her sister's paws in her own, refusing to release. Standing on her toes, Pheine stretched until she was almost on eye level with Thamma, forcing her to meet her eyes as Pheine's lips parted in a faraway smile.

"Do you not wonder, dear sister," Pheine's voice dropped seductively. "Do you not wonder how it could feel to be ploughed into the ground by a strapping male?"

"Pheine!"

Thamma tried to snatch her paws away as Pheine clung fast, knuckles throbbing under the unfamiliar pressure of restraint.

"Do not deny it," Pheine continued, licking her lips. "There are pleasures in this world beyond your wildest imaginings. You must feel it too. This...heat inside."

"It is distracting," Thamma whispered, eyes wide with fear. "I do not like it, Pheine, I want it to stop."

"It will, it will," Pheine drew Thamma in closer, holding her gently. "You admit you feel it too. This is natural. It is how we are meant to be. After seeing mother...I know that we are like this. It is in our blood. We were never meant to be repressed."

Thamma closed her eyes, allowing herself to imagine a male's warm breath on her neck, a hard pole between her legs, driving, thrusting...

"Think of mother," Pheine whispered. "She sucked so many males that night. Can you imagine how many she has had since, all for the purpose of fulfilling this so called 'forbidden' lust? The forbidden is desirable, simply because it is forbidden. This is not forbidden, it is in our nature. You want a male between your legs because you can and you deserve to have pleasure and puppies, there is no complication about it."

Groaning, Thamma's muzzle lolled open, palms uncomfortably sweaty. Sometimes, she had heard adult furs in inns and guesthouses mating. Pheine had caught her more than once with her ear pressed to the wall or door, eyes lidded as she discerned the happenings behind closed doors. The moans and yelps made her want to experience the same, though she had been careful never to allow her mother or father to discover her secret activities whenever they travelled. A canine's curiosity was potent. Knowing that she had her, Pheine pressed her sister to her bosom, feeding her fantasies with drops of necessary encouragement.

"You can be the one behind private doors, Thamma," Pheine permitted a smirk, knowing her sister too well; sometimes it was as if she had a window into her thoughts. "Or not so private, if you wish. You want a male between your thighs, his tongue and member driving you to moan. It is not all about the males anymore - Sodom and mother taught me that. We may take this for ourselves too. Whether or not we have young is not down to the whims and fancy of any male, least of all our father. They are our bodies and we may experience what we will with them!"

Thamma's eyes moved sightlessly beneath her eyelids, the canine lost in visualisations of her own. Forgotten fantasies, dreams curled into honeyed milk, flooded her mind, remembering all the passing males from her life that had sparked a tingle between her thighs. She leaned into her sisters warmth, no longer fighting, but imagining and shivering with the knowledge that all that she desired was within reach at long last. Thamma whimpered, paws curling into tense fists, wanting and needing.

Pheine smiled, content that her sister had been bought and would make her own decision as to what experiences came of her choice; free will was a gift, after all, and not even Pheine would steal that from her younger sister. The vixen, forgotten in the heated exchange, shuffled her hind paws, tension stiffening her back as if lashed to a post. Surprised, Pheine blinked and noted how Esther folded her paws across her small stomach, delicately angling her muzzle away from the other female furs.

"I want to try," Thamma breathed, muzzle flushed and panting lightly; Pheine's attention ricocheted. "I will try... Will it hurt?"

"It may hurt a little at first," Pheine admitted. "We will be in control. We can take things at our own pace with father. Don't worry, Esther," she added. "You do not need to be around when it happens. Though we will not prevent you from being impregnated by our father if you would like that!"

Startled to be so addressed, Esther's lips parted, devoid of words. The vixen flicked the tip of her pink tongue out, moistening her lips, and ducked her head shyly, ears splayed as if she was considering the possibilities. Pheine, conversely, was more interested in Thamma and her reaction, so the majority of Esther's shuffling and shy blushes went unnoticed. It was as if the vixen was torn between horror and arousal, a curious mixture that was difficult to understand.

"Right, so that is settled," Pheine forgot the vixen and hugged Thamma tightly. In her next breath, she released her sister and turned as if to walk away immediately. "We have all that we require, so let us return. It will be evening in due course."

"Wait a moment...Pheine? Pheine?" Thamma held out a paw, staying her sister. "If we return to the cave now, father may not allow us out again for a while. We should relieve ourselves now, while we have opportunity," Thamma winced. "I will not be driven to use the corner of the cave again if I may avoid it. I'm tired of father's paranoia in this regard."

"It's humiliating," Esther piped up, finding her voice. "To relieve ourselves in front of him."

"He watches us especially close," Thamma shuddered in agreement, referring to her sister and herself. "And that corner of the cave is beginning to hold a distinct odour."

Grimacing in agreement - she had almost growled at father the last time he forced her to urinate within the cave - Pheine took Thamma's paw, towing her gently to a suitable area. They had learned to their detriment that releasing their bladders over packed dirt and sand led to splashes of urine on their clothes, already in short supply. The stench and stains were far from desirable. It was sensible to take care of that bodily function over a patch of grass or at where the ground was looser, more accepting of moisture.

Squatting, Pheine lifted the hem of her robes without shame, spacing her hind paws well apart. Barely taking notice of her sister following suit, the Canaan dog sighed in evident relief as she relaxed a bladder. A stream of urine spattered on to the dry earth and she wagged her tail beneath the discoloured dress, the impediment of an over-full bladder blissfully relieved second by second. Huffing, Thamma shifted on to the balls of her feet for balance as she crouched, annoyed at grains of dirt sifting into her sandals; it could not be helped. Every fur had their pet hates. She bore down, layering her skirts carefully to the side, and breathed a sigh; her need had been greater than Pheine's, stimulated by the trickling river. The stench of urine marked the patch where they relieved themselves, the dirt drinking it thirstily. Despite needing to void her aching bladder as much as the canines, Esther twisted her paws in front of her chest, cheeks flooding with traitor colour. She could not do it.

"Is there something wrong?" Thamma tilted her muzzle up, over her right shoulder where Esther stood wide eyed, watching. It was disconcerting to speak while doing her business but it was worse to be watched - she felt as if she was in the cave with Lot again, even if Esther was better than her father. Shifting uncomfortably, Thamma cleared her throat, dropping her skirts a little lower as she became conscious of her modesty. Turning away too late, the vixen shook her head fervently, cheeks radiating heat.

"No! No... I only would prefer to relieve myself alone," the shy fox blushed, wishing that her fur was of a darker shade. "I would be more comfortable."

"Why?" Pheine was blunt. "We're all females, there's nothing unusual about what we're doing. We have no latrines here. This is the best we have."

"I know," Esther swallowed. "If you may forgive me, I will retrace our tracks to one of those bushes. I'm sorry, I do not mean to offend."

Snorting, Pheine threw her paws in the air, standing up straight and tall as her dress tumbled back down to her lower calves. What was wrong with that fox? There was something different about her, something elusive. 'Something', however, was rarely easy to pin down. Esther darted to the closest bush, the tips of her ears pink. The shrub, stunted and spiky, offered modest concealment, adequate privacy for Esther to squat and relieve herself in the same manner as the canines. Her pale ears protruded above the bush, twitching as they caught the faintest of sounds.

"You do not have to be intolerant," Thamma said quietly, finished with the business of her body.

"She should be accustomed to this manner of behaviour," Pheine rolled her eyes. "I would hardly believe that bodily functions are a matter of embarrassment in Sodom, considering the rampant mating, that is."

Don't remind me. Thamma coughed, hiding the nervous flinch.

Shaking herself, Thamma started. What on earth was that dog doing? Hunched, Pheine advanced on Esther's chosen bush, moving with surprising stealth. She made no noise, clutching her robes in one paw to prevent an ungainly tumble. Thamma gulped.

"Pheine!" She hissed. "Stop!"

Thamma's words fell on deaf ears - a typical occurrence when it came to addressing her older sister. With trepidation, the canine watched as Pheine strained to peer through the spiny shrub, every muscle as taut as a strip of leather baked in the sun. Esther's back was to Pheine and the fox distracted by something on a level too low to be sighted from such a distance. The vixen's ears twitched, perhaps in a display of irritation, and she growled quietly, tugging at the once-bright fabric where it caught on her sandal and pooled in the dust. Unused to urinating in such conditions, she had previously taken care to reveal herself privately when outside the cave. Though she had found relief, Esther struggled with her dress, caught obnoxiously on one of her sandal straps, slightly out of reach in such an ungainly position. Thinking that she had released the fabric, the vixen made as if to stand and jerked sideways, squealing as the obnoxious strap brought her tumbling to the ground. She brought her paws quickly to her crotch as she fell, rump facing her hidden voyeur, but she was not quick enough. Pheine saw all that she needed to see and a gasp burst forth.

Esther was not who she claimed to be. Pheine retreated slowly, careful not make a sound, mulling over the flaccid and most definitely male genitals boasted by none other than the shy, little fox. It was absurd! How could such a thing be true? Esther had small but noticeable breasts and she appeared female otherwise. Unable make sense from one thought after the other, Pheine brushed her hair away from her muzzle, wrinkling her nose where a rebellious strand clung obnoxiously. Thamma narrowed her eyes - an unspoken question - but Pheine shook her head, refusing to speak. It was just as well that she remained impassive as Esther reappeared, muzzle flushed and gaze cautious.

"I apologise," Esther murmured, studying the ground between her hind paws. "Are we now to return to the cave? Lot will be concerned for our safety."

Pheine smiled, showing her mildly yellowing canines.

"Yes, yes, we are," she said cheerily, scooping up her bundle of herbs as if nothing unusual had occurred, a feat of pretence to be proud of. "Let us see if father is awake."

She was not one to hold secrets to her bosom. The entire return journey to the cave was undertaken at a half-jog, Pheine skipping light-heartedly while Thamma pleaded for a slower pace. The fox was characteristically silent, scuffing her sandals through the dirt and unwilling to pick up her pace until cajoled by Pheine. She was certainly an oddity, though Thamma remained on equal speaking terms with the fox as they professed a mutual love of ladylike pursuits, some of which included the mixture of herbs into elixirs and salves. Thamma gnawed the inside of her cheek, gaze furtively darting to and from the vixen. The voluptuous sister bounced on the balls of her feet, sending Esther ahead into the cave with a genuine smile. Frowning, Thamma moved as if to follow, but was prevented from doing so as Pheine grasped her arm in a painfully tight grip.

"Thamma!" She growled. "Wait!"

"What?" She snapped, wrenching her arm away. "Curse you, Pheine, what were you doing to the poor girl? She wanted some privacy and you could not even afford her that?"

"She's not female."

Thamma's jaw fell slack.

"What?"

"Do not make me repeat myself, sister."

Thamma blinked dully, peering into the cave where Esther was dimly visible packing herbs into their sacks and pots, organising around Lot who slumbered in snores. The Canaan dog shook her head and held up her paws, denying what her elder would have her believe.

"But...that..." Thamma struggled. "She has breasts, you must be wrong, Pheine. It's not possible."

"Of course it's possible - I saw her. Or him. I don't know. Is this not wonderful news?" Pheine bounced on the balls of her hind paws like a cub, tail wagging nineteen to the dozen.

"And how, pray tell, is this wonderful?" Thamma asked warily, her tail immobile.

"We no longer have to rely solely upon father to continue our line," Pheine clapped her paws together. "We have twice the opportunity to succeed!"

Thamma shook her head, incredulity entering her posture, something that her impulsive elder sister induced in her all too frequently. Pheine was exasperating beyond belief. Stalling for seconds, Thamma padded to the lip of the cave where Pheine so liked to sit, taking her place and swinging her feet into open air. Patience waning, Pheine raised an eyebrow, scuffing the heel of one worn sandal through the dust: well? Thamma snorted, staring into the distance.

"Pheine, please endorse some measure of rationality." Her tone contained a scathing edge and the canine shot a dark look over her shoulder. "Esther has travelled with us for a fair time. If she was interested in females, it would have come to light. I believe she is interested in male furs. She looks at Lot differently," Thamma added in partial explanation.

"You do not have to speak to me in that tone," Pheine retorted, crossing her arms across her bosom. "It will work. If Esther likes father, that is convenient. If both of them become intoxicated, as discussed, I am confident that Esther would be more than 'happy' to participate. She will be aroused by father and that is all there is to the matter."

"So curt, sister."

"Merely returning the favour."

Digging her teeth into the inside of her cheek, Thamma bit back a sigh. Already her body was betraying her, flushing with heat that left her feeling as vulnerable as a newborn. She had never argued with Pheine in such a vehement fashion; they usually muddled along as sisters were prone to do. Then she had experienced two arguments, both of them short-tempered, in one day. Her mind wandered and she caught herself in the motion of imagining what it would be like to feel Esther's member inside her, spreading her open and driving her to those heights of pleasure so deliciously described by Pheine. Sensing the canine's inner conflict, Pheine approached slowly, as if creeping closer to a wild animal that was liable to scare and spring away.

"Thamma?" Pheine sat down at her side, snaking one arm comfortingly around the slender canine's waist. "It will be okay. I promise everything will be okay."

"How can you be so sure?" Thamma whispered, leaning into her sister's soft embrace, unable to resist the allure of sisterly softness.

Pheine had no answer and tucked a flyaway hair behind Thamma's ear, fingers rubbing gently in her favourite spot. Sitting with their feet dangling over emptiness, the pair stared into the distance, travelling through the power of gaze alone into the great world ahead. A cool breeze tickled their fur and, unconsciously, Thamma rested a paw on her belly, rubbing in slow circles.

"It will be fine," Pheine murmured, though her voice trembled with a combination of nerves and excited anticipation. "We are following the paths that we chose for ourselves, not living in fear and darkness. We cannot go on like our father. In a few days, we will both be looking forward to cubs."

*

Opportunity did not present itself for two more nights. Lot spent much of his time sleeping between consuming greater and greater portions of their frighteningly low food supply. He ate without care, drinking until slumber took him, more lethargic and impassionate than ever. Esther, for her sake, said little, but Pheine understood her unspoken frustration with Lot. It showed in the lack of company she supplied the older canine, whereas she kept close to the sisters, afraid to be alone. Regardless, the vixen was not above the odd glance or knowing look in Lot's direction, imagining indiscretions that Pheine did not understand, wondering and sharing her thoughts with Thamma alone.

At midday, two nights after the agreement between Pheine and Thamma, the elder sister could bear waiting no more. Her increasingly erotic dreams made sleep difficult and she rested little, sneaking her paw between her thighs in the dark to stroke herself to muffled moans, knowing that Thamma was awake and listening. Sometimes, Thamma accompanied her in masturbation. Neither acknowledged their nightly activities, despite the hardly stifled orgasmic cries both struggled to muffle with blankets. They were learning and growing together as sisters, closer and eager for experience.

During the consumption of the midday meal - it did not truly matter what time they ate when so stationary - Pheine could not sit still. It was unlike her to fidget, yet she fiddled with the stale bread, poked the fruit and sipped sparingly from the wineskin, swilling the rich liquid around her mouth. She soon would be using its potency for her own purposes, as the cold heat in her belly could not be calmed, though the wine would settle her nerves. She took a hefty gulp and wiped her muzzle, a smear of crimson wine staining the back of her cream-coloured paw.

"Here, father," Pheine said pointedly, exchanging a look with Thamma. "Have some more wine."

"Is there cause for celebration?" Lot muttered, accepting the pottery cup anyway.

"Our escape from Sodom," Pheine answered with a smile.

Finding this pleasing, Lot drank deeply from the cup, smacking his lips.

"A fine wine indeed," he murmured, cradling the cup between two large paws. "More wine. Esther. Fetch more wine."

Compliantly, Esther padded to the rear of the cave and collected several skins of wine, crouching with both legs pressed together, as conservative as any lady that Pheine had seen in her life. The reason that Esther was not as open as females of Sodom was fairly evident, considering her true sex, so she could be excused for adapting alternate manners of presenting herself. It made sense, though Pheine could not believe that she had not come to the conclusion that something was awry at an earlier time. There had been plenty of telling signs.

"Thank you," Lot slurred, accepting the wine from the flushed fox. A muscle in his neck twitched and he reclined slowly, eyes lidded as he traced Esther's path across the cave, unconsciously licking his lips. Despite the dim light, Esther's fur glowed with good health; spending more time in the outdoors did wonders for her appearance, even if she refused to remove her beloved anklet for fear of losing the small treasure.

Though Esther had not consumed as much wine as the others, her smaller stature made her susceptible to the wiles of liquor. She blinked lethargically, lounging on the scant pile of sleeping mats that she had cushioned with a mattress of dry grass. The vixen yawned, only half-covering her muzzle in ladylike decency, taking another sip of rich, crimson liquid. Thamma crossed her legs and sat at her side, slinking an arm around the vixen's waist, subtly caressing her through the pale dress, which had been kindly lent to her.

Catching Thamma's eye, Pheine placed a finger to her lips. It was now or never. Swallowing excitement - which fed butterflies in her stomach - Pheine took up position beside her father. She ran one paw over his rounded stomach, up to the v-shaped neckline where his robe's folds creased, cutting across one another. The sash was loose around his belly, a predicament of age and a fattening figure. His orange muzzle, struck with grey hair, twitched in response and, emboldened, Pheine stroked her fingers through the tuft of cream fur protruding through that gap in the neck of his attire. For all their trials, his fur was luxuriously soft, speaking of the life Lot had enjoyed. The Canaan dog lifted his head and caught Pheine's paw in his own, trapping it against his chest.

"Now, daughter," he said slowly, taking great care to pronounce every word with clarity. "What brings this spell of affection?"

"May a daughter not willingly show her father affection?" Pheine countered, a smile lighting up her eyes. "After you have so cared for my sister and I, we want to ensure you are aware of our appreciation."

Wine rocked her vision, daring her paws to rashness. She fumbled with the sash and yanked it loose, allowing her father's robe to fall open. Lot did not seem to notice the cool air and Pheine leaned over his body, feeling his warmth through her clothing, parting the robe both ways to reveal his fur and plain loincloth, tugged down on one side by lopsided sleep. Nipping her lip, Pheine glanced at Thamma, who bobbed her muzzle encouragingly and rubbed her crotch through the fabric of her own clothes. Esther looked on, her sharply pointed, narrow muzzle questing forward with the curiosity of a true Corsac fox. The fox stretched out on her stomach and rested her head on her washed out russet forearms, watching intently as her tail stirred against Thamma's legs.

Groaning, Lot's head lolled back, supported by one of the softer packs. A faint scent of sweat clouded the air, intoxicating to Pheine's rocketing senses - or perhaps the wine. She did not care to debate the matter. She caught the edges of her father's loincloth, which was constructed of two off-white panels of cloth at the front and back, held together by thinner strips of fabric. Pheine suspected that he would have worn something more comfortable had they been in their wealthy surroundings, not something as simple as what could have been a servant's undergarments. For a heart-thumping moment, she could not for the life of her see how the ties came loose, so carelessly were they knotted. She growled in the back of her throat, heat in her head and belly making it hard to think clearly. At last, however, the loincloth fell away; Esther gasped.

"Pheine? What is the meaning of this?"

His words would have been frightening under any other circumstance. For Pheine, swimming in the current of rebellion, she was far from a place where she would have thought twice about displeasing her father. He was no longer in charge, at least for their liaison. She arched her body over his and nuzzled through the fur on his chest, lowering a paw to tentatively stroke his furred sheath. The narrow tip of his member - somewhere between pink and red - protruded from the plump sheath and his balls were coated in fine down that Pheine eagerly caressed, rolling the orbs between her fingers. Lot moaned, raising half-heartedly reaching as if to stop her, dropping his paw to the ground with a noticeable thud.

Fumbling with the ties that secured the dress around her body, Pheine stumbled out of the garment, letting the dirty cloth pool around her bare hind paws. She had chosen to wear nothing but the dress that day and her breasts heaved in the cool air, fat nipples hardening. Her father propped himself up with one paw, too drunk to do anything but stare slack-jawed at the plump yet buxom female fur. Apparently wine was an excellent cure for paranoia as well as loosening inhibitions. Pheine had to quell the smirk twitching at the corner of her lips, her curled tail wagging rapidly.

"Relax, father," she said, running her paws over her body as if to display her wares. "This is how it is supposed to be."

Her fingertips grazed the tuft of thicker fur around her crotch, a rich cream, and she involuntarily arched her back, thrusting forth her hips. Her sex was inflamed, more so than ever, and fingers alone could not satisfy the need. Looking at Lot's semi-aroused, waiting cock sent tremors through her body and she quaked in unadulterated anticipation. The eyes of her audience enhanced the pleasure and she whined as she slid a slick fingertip against her clitoris, spreading her pussy lips in the process. Mumbling to himself, Lot shook his head and reached out for Pheine, paw landing on her hip and drawing her closer, down to his level. Pheine caught her breath, heart beat thudding in her ears, music to their illicit liaison.

Esther whimpered, sipping wine to calm herself. Thamma wound an arm comfortingly around her waist and stroked the shy vixen's muzzle. Resting in Thamma's lap and arms, Esther gazed up at her trustingly, irrefutably innocent. Encouraged by her sister's ministrations, she cupped her paw beneath Esther's muzzle, kissing her softly on the lips. The vixen stiffened, ears splayed, and relaxed into the kiss, allowing Thamma to slowly ease her dress up her fair-furred legs. Eyes riveted to Lot, Esther squirmed delightfully, moaning into the heady kisses and nips as a hardness beneath her dress betrayed her arousal.

Expecting her father to instantly become aroused like all the other males that she had had the pleasure of observing around the well, Pheine rubbed her crotch over the soft tip of his member, whining with need. Though he responded by putting his arms around her, groping her body in the throes of drunken desire, no more of his shaft deigned to slide forth. She growled in frustration - how was she supposed to know what to do her first time? She couldn't, not on her own. Furtively, she thought back to how she had watched her mother with the other males, reaching out for them and taking their shafts between her lips but also her paws. She could only follow her mother's example. Hesitantly, she reached forward, halting an inch from his body as a devious idea brightened her consciousness: Thamma.

"Thamma?" Pheine flicked up her tail coyly, angling her body so that her sister received the ideal view of their prone, panting father. "Would you like to take over? Maybe you have a better paw than I."

Thamma nodded quickly and disengaged from Esther, springing lightly to her paws. She offered a paw to Esther that the vixen shyly clasped, allowing herself to be pulled to her hind paws despite shrinking away. Feeding off Pheine's boldness, Thamma padded to Lot's side and untied the sash fastening her dress about her chest, discovering a sultry smile that would have made any male's heart beat quicker. Disrobing with a flourish that Pheine was privately proud of, Thamma folded to her knees, appearing more like her sister than ever, despite her comparative slimness to Pheine's voluptuous beauty. The fur across Thamma's shoulders was split with lighter bands between a richer burnt-orange tone. Regardless, there was no doubt that they were sisters. Panting hotly, Thamma stretched luxuriously across her father's cream legs and cupped his balls in one paw with a look of wonder. Esther itched to do the same.

Lot groaned and rolled his muzzle from side to side, conflicting emotions swamping his senses, yet he could not commit to actions that could have altered the course of events. Though he was old, sinful lust drove his body to new heights as Thamma squeezed his sheath softly between two paws, caressing the hidden cock as if she had years of experience in the art of pleasure. Thamma growled, breasts hanging pleasantly as she curled forward, massaging his balls between her fingers and trusting her body to know what she should do. All she knew in her mind was the dizzying dance of wine and ever-present need. Swallowed by burning need, the canine rubbed her father's sheath, pressing her breasts against his leg. The warm swells of feminine flesh teased his round thigh - equal fat and muscle from their travel without the luxury of mules or servants - and Lot groaned unwillingly. He leaned into her touch and stretched one arm back behind his head, paw pressed to the cave wall, which was damp with moisture.

Thamma's hair fell about her muzzle in a tangled mess, the canine more concerned with satisfaction of her need than a dignified appearance. She could not believe that she had initially fought anxiety over Pheine's plan. On the contrary, as Lot's red cock slipped further into view, she believed it the best idea her sister had come to posses, though there was always room for improvement. She took the warm tip of his cock between her paws, encouraging it to full hardness. The deflated knot that she knew all canines possessed (she had seen the servants' dogs, after all) remained tucked away in the sheath, plumping it out with its waiting presence.

A pace away, Pheine fingered her hot snatch lewdly, pants becoming louder as Thamma dipped her muzzle to lap the head of Lot's member. Her eyes widened at the salty taste of flesh mingled with musk that clouded her senses in the overbearing scent of male. It was a tangible combination of natural musk, arousal and sweat from days in the sun. A scent that should have been unpalatable under normal circumstances fired Thamma into a frenzy and she took longer, bolder licks along the length, flattening her tongue so that it rasped over the red rod. The older dog moaned and stroked her hair with a trembling paw, prey to the pleasures of the body. Already pre cum beaded at his cock-head, a delicious treat for his hungry daughter.

The inexperienced canine squirmed, digging one paw between her own thighs to relieve the sexual itch: she feared that she would lose control if she did not. Boldly, she pressed her lips around the tapered cock head, playing her tongue against the slit, salty with sweat and pre cum. It was a combination that made her fur bristle as if she tasted a fine fruit. A muzzle bumped into her shoulder and Thamma paused, taking note of Pheine muscling in at her side. A recently disrobed and panting vixen followed in the elder sister's wake. Esther staggered to the ground, wrapping her arms around Lot's nearest leg, panting with her muzzle wide open as the two sisters tongued their father's member, coating every inch of it in their shared saliva. The vixen whined.

Sliding her lips down, Thamma groaned and fingered her clit lewdly. It was a strange sensation to have her lips parted around a smooth, slick pole and she grazed it with her teeth more than once, her father grunting unhappily each time. Pulling back, Thamma murmured an apology, brushing her moist nose along the line of his cock in lieu of her teeth. She needed more practice. Dipping her muzzle, Pheine tongued the older canine's balls, curling and wrapping her flexible tongue around each orb in turn. Lot stroked her head and muzzle, fingers playing with her hair like he had done when she was a pup of much younger years searching for her father's affection. Hips bucked and his shaft twitched, splattering a drop of milky pre cum to roll languidly down the underside of his shaft, towards Pheine's muzzle. She paused in her administrations, curiously scooping the fluid on to her tongue where she rolled it for a second, marvelling at the salty taste and thick consistency, wanting more.

Though she begged it to remain compliant, Esther's red, vulpine member responded to the show, rising to full mast without physical touching. Stark against her pale stomach, it was impossible to ignore as she humped her hips licentiously, drawing Thamma's attention. The canine's eyes carved out the shape of the vulpine member and the small, unformed knot at the base, a slight, noticeable bulge. Smiling gently, Thamma stroked a paw down the vixen's back, reassuring as the shy fox ducked her muzzle, hiding it against the side of Lot's thigh. Thamma would later put it down to the wine, but the vulpine pressed closer to her paw with a needy whine, arching into Thamma's paw and peering over Lot's thigh, unwilling to tear her attention away from his now throbbing member, rigid and dripping beads of pre cum. Leaving the vixen to make her own decision, Thamma moved away and crawled closer to her father with another wine skin, presenting the opening at the neck to his lips.

"Drink, father," she said, eyes disallowing other options.

Thankfully, their father liked the taste of wine on his lips and willingly drank deep from the skin, rich liquor filling his belly with incomparable warmth. It soothed the dryness in his maw and he brought his muzzle to Thamma's in a drunken kiss, brushing their noses together. His lips folded over hers and she perked her ears in surprise, skin tingling with warmth. Both canines panted upon breaking the kiss and Thamma put the wine aside, within easy reach, so that she could join Pheine in 'preparing' Lot's cock for mounting. Neither sister was much inclined to proceed without a tasting the goods beforehand.

The gusto with which Thamma attacked her father's cock caught even Pheine off-guard. Thamma's back arched provocatively and she stroked her tongue along the length of Lot's member, growing bolder with every lick. The sisters battled good-naturedly for dominance over the shared phallus, settling for a side each even if Pheine, as the elder, took precedence over her father's balls. She knew his seed - what would make her a mother - was inside and she sought to pay worship to the full orbs as if pleading that their sperm would swiftly seed her womb. Thamma gasped for much needed breath, body squeezed between her father's and Pheine's.

After some time, a shy Esther joined the canines and wrapped her flexible tongue around the base of Lot's cock. Her fox yips accompanied the chorus of moans and growls. Thamma adjusted her angle to allow Esther more space and the vixen curled up between Lot's legs, one paw resting delicately on his thigh. Her tail twitched, a shimmer of light glancing off her anklet, and her member throbbed, paying tribute to her arousal. Thamma took the tip of Lot's cock between her lips, sucking gently (as she had heard that it was something that males enjoyed) to great effect. The older canine tensed, hips rising to push his cock deeper into her muzzle.

Perfectly shaped to take a male's shaft, Thamma thought of her muzzle with a spark of satisfaction.

Saliva dripped from Lot's member but Pheine found it a trial to draw away, lust hazing her vision. She blinked sluggishly, unusual warmth drowning her in its arms. It was time. Thamma was not privy to her internal conversation, however, and did her best to swallow her father's whole cock, the tip pressed into the back of her throat as she suppressed her gag reflex. Pheine laid a paw on her sister's shoulder and Thamma twitched her tail irritably.

"Thamma," Pheine swayed, blinking slowly, though whether the effect was from intoxication or heady lust remained to be seen. "Wait. Stop."

Disgruntled, Thamma jerked her head up. A bead of pre cum clung to her upper lip, where it was caught by the tip of her swirling, pink tongue. She panted softly, pupils dilated in a faraway expression.

"What, Pheine?" She growled. "Why did you stop me?"

"We should preserve father's seed," Pheine explained, though her words tumbled over one another in their rush to escape her muzzle. "We should... I mean... It's our best chance to get pregnant. We need it inside, not on or in our muzzles. This is all for continuing our bloodline," she added after a moment, as if she had indeed forgotten the initial purpose of their tryst; it had been easy to forget.

"Right...of course..." Thamma muttered, tilting her head, wine fumes heady on her breath. "Pheine, will you mate with him first? You've seen mating before. I...I don't know what I should do, how to position myself."

"As the elder virgin," Pheine smirked, "it would be proper. Watch and learn, dear sister, and we shall have our wish."

Lot struggled to prop himself up, back arched against the rough cave wall, and Thamma coaxed him forward, sliding a wadded up blanket between him and the wall. She could not deny that she was anxious for his wellbeing, as a daughter should be. Frayed ends and loose threads mattered little when it came to comfort in such an environment and Thamma hoped that her mild assistance could make the experience more enjoyable for her sister. It had to be hard, the first time. She had no experience to draw on, however, so how could she discern either way? Slyly, Thamma hoped to gain a better view by propping Lot up in such a manner because, after all, she had to watch and learn, did she not?

Licking her lips, Pheine shook herself, nerves battling with excitement. Her fluffed up tail bounced as she swung a leg over Lot's waist, straddling him so her knees scored dents into the woven sleeping mat. Grasping his rigid member, she pumped it a few times within her paw, feeling the firmness and heat, blood pulsing beneath the skin. It was the answer to everything that she had been missing. All she needed was for it to be inside her, satisfying her body at long, long last. Raising a paw, Lot caressed her breast and Pheine arched into his touch. Her hips moved to rub his cock between her feminine folds, dripping with erotic arousal.

Nerves had no place when her sister was watching. Gaze steeling, Pheine lowered her chubby body, legs spread wider than she was physically at ease doing - her father was so wide! The pliable flesh of her thighs squeezed snugly around his hips and the paw on her breasts distracted her to fresh heights of need. Grunting and whining like a four-legged bitch in heat, her eyes rolled and she panted desperately. She had to have him! Bearing down, Pheine let out a bark of frustration when the cock did not immediately slip into her folds. It had been so easy for those other females, all those furs pleasuring one another with their bodies without a care for the intricacies involved. Pheine growled, ears folded back in unwelcome frustration.

But the smooth shaft sliding through her pussy lips felt good. Anger receded and she moaned softly, hips bucking to force Lot's hardness against her swollen clitoris as a murmur of remembered ecstasy shivered up her spine. Readying herself for the plunge, Pheine straightened her torso body, pushing her chest out as if to put her large, rounded breasts on full display. It had to happen, she had to do it. Fingers questing between her legs, she teased her vulva, parting it with the lightest of touches and placing the tip of the shaft into the centre. She growled, strained beyond expectation, and hunched her shoulders, passage forced open through her own insistence - a cock was considerably larger than a finger!

Her body rounded forward as she struggled to contain herself in front of Thamma; she could not show Thamma how difficult she found it. The barrier that protected her virginity, something leftover from necessary protection during her younger years, stretched around the intruder, forced open through the small hole or tear that allowed Pheine to bleed every moon cycle. Squeezing her thighs around her father, Pheine cried out suddenly through a flash of pain and a sudden lessening, pain reduced to faint discomfort. Tentatively, the canine pushed her hips down and barely caught herself from howling triumphantly, just like her ancestors. A wide, canine grin spread across her muzzle and she ground her sex down, sliding inch after inch into her soaked folds.

Abruptly aware of her surroundings, Pheine shivered, fur bristling. The entrance to her warm passage was unduly sore but the pain had all but vanished, her hymen either torn or stretched to accommodate natural intercourse. Panting, Pheine's chest heaved in relief and exertion as her bosom quivered. Sex was more difficult than it had appeared in observation. Suppressing a wry grin at her own 'hilarity', she placed both paws on Lot's chest, sinking down experimentally with a self-satisfied moan. A cock felt a lot better than a finger. Lot groaned, paws massaging his daughter's breasts with relish. Though the aroma of sweet wine was on his breath, his eyes were starkly bright with the knowledge that came from some perceived wrongdoing.

Thamma knew that she should not have worried for Pheine, yet she had still had to hold herself back when her proud sister clenched her paws into brutal fists, breathing becoming unjustly laboured. She knew Pheine had been too distracted to take note of her sister's noticing, which was a barely disguised blessing. Stretching out luxuriously on her side, Thamma worked her fingers over her damp mound, curling her short claws through the thicker fur and down to her sex. Her sister made no pretence of modesty as she rode her father's cock, using her paws for leverage as she set the pace and bounced upon his body, enjoyment outweighing any lingering discomfort. Knowing that it would be better if she did not bring herself to full floods of pleasure immediately, Thamma rested her muzzle on her outstretched arm, simply watching as she stoked the heat of her simmering arousal.

Without reason to exercise restraint and giddy with wine, Esther shyly crept forward on all fours, eyes transfixed not on the bouncing derriere of the lustful canine but the phallus and balls from which she derived so much pleasure. Her raspy, vulpine tongue snaked out and she returned to the action she had desired, lapping the older males balls with youthful abandon. Lot spread his legs, allowing Esther full reign as she growled contentedly, not even minding the female sex an inch or two above her nose. Not quite able to take all of Lot's modest length initially, Pheine enjoyed what sensations the three inches of his shaft provoked in her. Her juices trickled down Lot's member, slickening it for further penetration as she bravely took a fraction more into her pussy; the stretch was delicious.

Taking a deep breath, Thamma could bear the waiting no longer. All she could think about was the fact that there was one male without his shaft buried in a warm snatch, even if said male masqueraded as a she. It did not take much persuasion on the part of her wicked mind. She slid beneath Esther, jostling Lot's legs as she wormed her way into position - he grunted in response, too distracted to pay her more attention. Esther blinked slowly, whining as she fought to maintain pace with the canine's actions. While Esther came to comprehend Thamma's intent, Thamma wrapped her arms tightly around the lithe vixen, trapping her. The vixen squirmed, tail lashing the air, but Thamma merely guided her snout back to Lot's crotch, letting her inhale the thick musk of male. It was as if the semi-drunk vulpine had been given a shot of aphrodisiac in that moment, or even an overdose.

Relaxing, Esther tentatively returned to licking her elder's balls, soft moans escaping her lips. Thamma breathed shallowly, exploring the vixen's body with her paws and in particular marvelling at her small breasts. She was clearly male even with their presence but Thamma knew enough to suspect that herbs and concoctions could be applied to the body for more reasons than simple healing. She wondered if there were some that increased arousal or one's fertility. Flat on her back, Thamma wrapped her legs around Esther's waist, letting the vixen's smooth cock tease her folds. Aroused by sensation and action alone, Esther whined, ears folding back submissively. Pheine let out an especially throaty, mature moan and a smirk crooked Thamma's lips, one paw guiding Esther's cock to her well prepared sex, which was shiny with her own juices.

The vixen gasped, breath hot on Lot's saliva soaked balls. A victim to the whims of her body, her hips bucked, pale tail held high as if in simultaneous invitation. Her skilled tongue discovered a musky patch of sweat on the underside of Lot's full sack and she attacked it with gusto, sucking hungrily at the thin skin and fur. Gathering her nerve, Thamma took full advantage of Esther's distraction - not that the vixen had not been taken advantage of enough that day - to work her slender cock-tip into her folds. Her arousal, unexpectedly, became a problem as the smooth shaft gained no friction on Thamma's flushed sex, so productive were her feminine preparations for mating. Her upper lip curled in a snarl and she shoved her muzzle against Esther's chest, grabbing her cock with two paws and forcing it into her tight hole, just as she had seen Pheine do.

Barely an inch sank in and Thamma yelped in shock as that frail barrier tore, pain shuddering through her body. She whimpered and buried her muzzle in Esther's clean fur, which was scented with some kind of wildflower. Esther trembled under the sudden, intimate stimulation but found the heart to lick Thamma's forehead comfortingly: don't be scared. The Canaan dog breathed slowly and deeply, wishing belatedly that she had followed her sister's example with greater care, easing herself into the act. Returning to lap Lot's balls and fleshy, warm sheath, Esther's tail fluffed up and she rocked her hips just enough to coax a shy moan from Thamma's lips.

The pain ebbed with such swiftness that Thamma had to consider whether or not it was partly mental. She did not feel noticeably different without her virginity intact. Where the barrier had torn was sore, assuredly, but her tight snatch - spread for the first time - was as well lubricated as her sister's, if the moist slapping behind Thamma's head was any indication. Calmer, Thamma dug her heels into Esther's rump, hind paws crossed neatly as she drew the vulpine deeper, insistent need clouding coherent thought. Yipping quietly, Esther responded with a shallow thrust, pale hips rocking in an erotic dance. Thamma dug her small claws into the vixen's back, suppressing a low growl for fear that Esther would think her in pain and try to pull away.

Sparing a thought for her sister, Pheine glanced over her shoulder, shaking her head to dislodge a wild wisp of hair from her eyes. A grin flashed across her muzzle - she need not have worried. The canine's hair whipped her shoulders as she bounced, her rocking increasingly exacerbated by heights of arousal that she had not known it was possible to reach. So much had become viable since Sodom. Thrusting beneath her promiscuously spread legs, Lot grasped her hips firmly and matched her pace. He drove into his daughter's pussy with such fervour that Esther was hard pressed to maintain her adoring licks. The older canine faintly found himself longing for the stamina of a younger dog.

Shuddering with feminine passion, Pheine cried out hoarsely, begging in an unnoticed whimper for orgasm, that electric release that encompassed her body from muzzle to toe. Her father would not last much longer, she warranted, but she was determined to have her fill and then be filled, as was the plan. On the other paw, her plans appeared to be increasingly difficult to follow once she had begun. Raising her hips high, Pheine barked, suddenly empty and oh so unfulfilled. Her father's cock swayed, the old canine thrusting into midair, seeking to plunge it back into his partner's cunny. Biting back annoyance - this had not happened to those other furs! - Pheine readjusted, tracing her pink tongue along dry lips and casting her father a sultry grin that would have converted a pure soul to sin.

Esther was swift to take advantage of opportunity and, as soon as Pheine lifted her hips, she stole a few devious licks of Lot's cock, wrinkling her nose cutely at the leftover female juices. It was worth it for the salty taste of pre cum and cock. Settling down, the vixen curled her tongue around each of Lot's orbs in turn, bucking her hips with greater force over Thamma. The hind paws on her back and buttocks drew the vixen in closer, deeper, her tail twitching erratically. Lot sank inside Pheine's swollen sex and she rocked with renewed vigour, yips and whines orchestrating her impending orgasm; Lot contorted his muzzle, motions frantic. As if in sync, Thamma's head fell back and she moaned loudly, gasping for breath that she was not sure she would regain in the course of mating, thoughts flickering before her eyes as if by the course of vision. She could already see her pups and she wondered if they would look like Corsac foxes or Canaan dogs; it was difficult for different species to produce offspring together... Likely she would have to have her father impregnate her. She grew glassy eyed, jaws gaping in unrestrained enjoyment. Her shoulders pressed hard into the ground, cushioned by the mat, and she used her position to rock her hips towards her vixen partner, yelping when the entire slender shaft speared in.

Shaking her head, Pheine's chest rose and fell rapidly, breath harsh within her windpipe. With a proud howl, she raised her muzzle, hair tumbling wildly over her shoulders as she lost herself in the throes of orgasm, body shivering like a leaf in the wind. The canine rolled her head, completely oblivious to the pants and whines of her father beneath her legs. Her legs grew weak and Pheine trembled, paws resting on Lot's chest for support, cunny muscles rippling around his cock: cum in me. Something wider nudged her vulva and she gulped, bearing down in time to take Lot's half-swollen knot as her heartbeat hammered against her eardrums. Swelling rapidly, it grew inside and she whined as her warm passage was forced wider in lingering, orgasmic excitement. Giving one almighty buck of his hips, Lot gasped, claws digging into his daughter's hips, and his balls drew up against his body, pumping out seed in hot spurts that Pheine swore that she could feel filling her pussy.

Thamma heard the moans but, too concerned with the bone buried in her depths, paid little attention. She wound her fingers into Esther's hair, crying out in a hoarse whimper words that she never thought she would hear from her own lips, begging the fox to give her pups, mate her and fill her with virile seed. The vixen growled, ears splayed hopelessly. She could not stop - did not want to stop. It was good to have her nose buried in the older canine's balls, even if she used her shaft to mate; it did not seem truly part of her, but the pleasure could not be denied, as much as the canine beneath her. She imagined Lot pressing his chest to her back, member forcing entry into her own virginal hole, and took a sharp breath, inhaling more musk than intended. Breathing deeply, the vixen lost herself in the orgy of fur and flesh, climax creeping onward as Pheine slumped forward above her muzzle.

A drizzle of semen oozed from Pheine's cunt as she collapsed, eyes glassy; it had taken more out of her than expected. The excess seed trickled down Lot's sheath and pooled between his balls, proving an irresistible temptation for a vixen in need of pleasure. Eagerly, Esther lapped up every drop with a low moan of delight - when had she last had opportunity to experience that taste? - and her tail wagged as if she was the figurative cat with the cream. Panting, she tilted her muzzle down, neck muscles tense with the strain of withholding orgasm for a few seconds longer. It was impossible! Gritting her sharp canines together, she fought for control that was not to be had, sweat dampening her fur in the struggle. Thamma yelped as the fox's small knot was shoved past her outer lips, growing to lock them together, seeming to pulse in her tightness. No matter what Esther desired, a fox's true nature could not be denied.

The vixen heaved forward, nose crushed into the gap between a pale canine thigh and balls. Thamma clutched her narrow shoulders and squirmed pleasurably as Esther shuddered, filling her partner as her hips jerked reflexively. Her tongue lolled, the taste of salt, sweat and fur on her lips exquisite in the moment. She almost did not mind that she was tied to a female fur, her inflated knot straining the dog's sex. Swaying drunkenly on all fours, Esther dipped her muzzle kindly and licked Thamma's forehead, drenched in sweat and lusting for more.

"Tired, sister?" Thamma panted with her muzzle open, though the corners of her lips twitched with sisterly mirth. The recipient of her question pushed herself upright with a groan, Lot's cock slipping from her pussy with a lewd squelch and outpouring of semen. Esther only hesitated for half a second before lapping over the canine's softening member, hardly minding the lingering feminine juices. Still, she minded a little, deeming it a small sacrifice for the taste of semen on her tongue. It had been too long since her last male partner had graced her with his cock: a secret affair.

Shivering back to reality, Pheine wagged her tail, the fluff brushing across her father's leg and making Esther sneeze.

"I was the one doing all the work up here," Pheine smirked, leaning forward as if in challenge. "All you did was lie on your back for Esther to take you - that's hardly work."

"Hardly work, just as fun," Thamma snipped, surprising a bark of laughter from her sister, the sisterly jibes remaining despite the shared experience. Pheine did not think that she would desire to have their relationship any other way than how it had always been for the two of them and, for that, she was glad.

"If you think it's so difficult," Thamma cocked her muzzle, peering upside down at her sister, "would you care for a second round?" She paused, muzzle quivering. "Best chance for pups, is it not?"

"It is indeed."

Sliding off her father, Pheine knelt at his side, head tilted as she contemplated just how the two of them were to continue. Of course, there was more to come and she wanted to give something more pleasurable to Esther in addition to their quest for pups. She did not want to be thought entirely heartless. Absently, she noted Thamma squirming out from beneath a fox who was as still as a statue, the vixen's eyes glassy and tongue lolling. Lot's eyes were lidded like one that struggled with the onset of slumber, proving both males - young and old - exhausted by the sisterly duo. Thamma squatted at Pheine's hip, one paw driven between her legs with no doubt as to where her touch led; the whining moans were enough indication. Thamma humped her paw with the drive of a female possessed and Pheine snapped back her head, realising just why her sister was so frenzied: the younger sister was yet to reach orgasm, blood pumping and heart racing as she gyrated desperately. Peering through her dark eyelashes, unusually thick and plump for a canine, Pheine patted her hair into place, smoothing down unruly clumps with the finesse of the vain.

"Come now," Pheine brushed her fingertips against Thamma's arm, coaxing her back to reality. "You shall have your opportunity, sister. Watch what I do and assist me."

With an unladylike grunt, Pheine grasped her father's upper arms. Under the influence of a great deal more liquor than the females, Lot was as passive as a puppy, allowing her to manhandle him into position. He blinked rapidly as semen cooled between his thighs, soaking into his fur where Esther was unable to reach and combining with intoxicating male musk. The fox trembled, supporting herself on all fours as her pale tail swung lazily, limbs quivering with the strain of supporting even her bony body. Struggling with her father's weight, Pheine huffed and dragged him away from the wall, sliding him down on to his back while her arm muscles screamed in protest. She sighed when he was finally horizontal, cushioned by the sleeping mat and woven blankets. Pursing her lips, she tugged the blankets straight and jumped when her father's paw drifted upwards to trail over the swell of her breast.

Thamma caught on quickly and crawled over to the vixen whose member she had recently become so well acquainted with. Esther glanced up, muzzle creasing, and Thamma gently wrapped her arms around her waist, smiling as the Corsac fox collapsed willingly into her embrace. Pheine spread more blankets alongside Lot's body and patted them invitingly as Thamma guided Esther over, one paw resting against the small of her back. Licking her lips boldly, Esther folded to the prepared mats with barely any encouragement, turning sensuously on to her back and stroking her small breasts as if challenging Lot to not appreciate her body.

Thamma followed the vixen with a wag of her tail and growled playfully, bumping her muzzle against Esther's slender snout. The vixen blushed and squirmed, licking Thamma's muzzle in turn, though the action was tentative at best. Lot rolled his head to the side, watching them share affection with what could only be described as a fatherly smile. However, neither sister would have claimed that Lot was 'fatherly' in any sense of the word, knowing what they knew.

Regaining slow but sure control of her senses, Pheine nuzzled down her father's chest and sniffed as the lightly greying hairs tickled her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty scent of cum - so unusual to scent - allowing the aroma to lead her lower, irrefutably closer to her prized destination. A trace of sticky cum from Lot's fur clung to her upper lip and she caught it on the tip of her tongue with an eager moan, thighs dampening with combined semen and feminine moisture. Her father's cum leaked out of her sore cunny, but she was far from satisfied with her first sexual experience.

"Pheine?"

"What?" Pheine's eyes snapped open and she jerked around, pupils dilated. "What, Thamma?"

To her surprise, Thamma met her gaze and motioned to Pheine, one paw stroking the vixen's swelling cock.

"You mounted father the first time," she stated calmly. "It is my turn."

Pheine could not refuse the touch of fox, even if her sister's assertiveness was mildly dissuading and, in a way, challenging. Without a word, the elder sister shuffled across the dirt floor, grime ingratiating itself to her knees as if she was a mucky pup in need of a bath. Thamma took her place and dropped to all fours, bending her elbows to lap over Lot's soft cock; as she teased it back to hardness, she wantonly thrust her rump into the air. The canine whined, ears splayed sweetly against her skull, gripping her father's legs with frantic paws. Oh, to soothe the heat! Thamma humped empty air, tail raised and wagging nineteen to the dozen, ensuring that her rump was impossible to ignore, semen dripping from her stretched pussy.

Resting her body over the smaller vixen, Pheine enjoyed the sensation of small breasts nudging against her own. Esther squeaked and hid her muzzle under Pheine's chin, planting her hind paws flat on the ground and raising her hips so that her crotch rubbed invitingly against the canine's soft thighs. The canine stifled a chuckle, not fooling herself with regards to the source of Esther's arousal even as she shivered pleasurably. Far from becoming aroused by the lady pinning her to the mats, the little vixen only had eyes for the mature dog moaning at her side. Watching Lot with near reverence, Esther stretched out to him, pressing her nose into the side of his neck to inhale his scent with a happy, drawn out sigh. He turned his attention to her and she whimpered, a sudden spark of boldness inducing her to press her lips firmly to his.

Whether Lot's response was due to Thamma's enthusiastic deep throat of his shaft or the passionate kiss, Pheine was unsure. Either way, Lot groaned and returned the kiss as gently as a lover, his tongue twining passionately with Esther's. The vixen's ear pressed to the mat as she squirmed, cock hardening, and Pheine grasped it with both paws, experimentally running the soft pads along the length. Seemingly fascinated, the canine wriggled backwards, nuzzling Esther's small balls, and flicked her tongue along Esther's shaft, drawing a needy whimper from the vixen; the sounds only encouraged Pheine to greater levels of experimentation. She growled, taking the vixen's dick between her lips so the gentle vibrations travelled down the length, setting her a-shiver with sensation. Even if she was not intoxicated, Esther had the fleeting notion that she would have consented to such pleasurable oral - particularly as Pheine sealed her lips around the base of her fox-cock with a lewd slurp - if she had had a willing partner at another time.

"Ah!"

Duly distracted, Pheine failed to notice Thamma straddling her father's hips, directing his cock towards her sloppy cunt. In her eagerness, she had not ensured he was fully erect, and his shaft slapped the frustrated canine's engorged clit, eliciting her cry. The desperate dog thrust her hips, struggling to push Lot's member into her inundated folds, though the drooling juices made it a daunting task for the sex-crazed Thamma. Pitying her sister, who had not been able to achieve orgasm while playing the 'bottom' role, Pheine reached over and gently directed her father's red shaft upwards. As Thamma angled her hips, Pheine squeezed the thick, red cock-tip into her sister's dripping folds.

Thamma convulsed and sank down with a moan, unaware of her sister's presence or intervention. She panted and rolled her eyes back in pleasure, tongue lolling wetly from her muzzle as Lot rested his paws on her hips, caressing her richly toned fur. The squelch of sexual juices was as audible as Lot's harsh pants and Esther's soft moans; the vixen's tongue battled lightly with Lot's in a passionate kiss that Pheine found fascinating. How strange it was to see two males kissing! She supposed that Esther did not identify as a male... She shook her head. It was too confusing to think about when sex-addled, if there was such a state. She had better activities to partake in, namely a rigid fox-cock.

Swinging a leg over the vixen's slim thighs, Pheine briefly admired her feminine form, small breasts appearing as suitable as any she had ever seen. Esther's gold anklet knocked against the ground as she stretched out her legs, releasing a plaintive whine into the kiss, one of Lot's paws cupping her pale cheek. Exhaling slowly, Pheine lowered her hips until she felt the tip of Esther's cock brush her clit, startling forth a furtive groan. She did not need to direct the vixen's shaft as it was throbbing and ready for action already. Pheine suspected with a sultry grin that the kiss with Lot had something to do with that, which was exactly what she had intended. Why shouldn't Esther have as much fun as them?

However, Pheine could not deny the desire for her _own_pleasure. Huffing quietly, she eased the vixen's member inside, taking the initial penetration far more slowly the second time; she had at least learned one lesson, though she hoped that no one would discover her indiscretion of impulse. Her cunny dripped drops of pearly fluid, which lubricated the tapered cock and allowed it to push inside with little resistance. The female fur gasped, fur standing on end. It felt even better than the first time. She shuddered, a ripple trembling through the folds of her body, and caressed her heavy breasts, short, canine claws pricking her nipples through the matted fur. The scent of sex and sweat assaulted her senses increasingly, proving more potent than the duly consumed wine.

Rocking her hips, Thamma panted heavily, breasts heaving and nipples pertly erect. Her father's cock felt larger than Esther's, spreading out the entrance to her sex with a lewd squelch as her passage contracted around him. Mixed sexual fluids trickled over his soft knot, noting what was to come. The canine growled, ears angled back and eyes glazed in the throes of passion. With her sister moaning at her side, a flash of competitiveness drove her to greater heights and the ghost of a snarl erupted from her lips. She placed her paws squarely on her father's chest, fingers curling into the thinning, white fur, and arched her back, driving his cock into her body with the enthusiasm of the sex-crazed. She had to feel! She had to feel what Pheine felt...or else she would fall prey to madness of a less pleasurable ilk.

Recalling vaguely how Pheine had moved when 'riding' Lot, Thamma narrowed her eyes, toes curling and uncurling. The slim dog raised her body up sensually, pouring as much sexuality into the motion as she could muster and pushing down until Lot's half-swollen knot ground against her clitoris. With a throat moan, she repeated the motion, the older canine's thicker pubic fur teasing her clit in turn as the light sensation made her shudder. It was sensitive, too sensitive, but she could not resist the lure. Whining at a pitch that she had not known she was capable of, Thamma hunched her shoulders and ground her hips lower, breath coming in short pants as that pleasurable nub of flesh was rubbed. Rockets of electric delight lanced through her body, setting every nerve tingling as if she had been touched by a fork of lightning, her body charging towards pure, unadulterated life. A clump of hair fell across her eyes but she could not spare a moment to brush it aside; she was far too caught up her world of ecstasy.

She could not be outdone by her sister. Pheine flinched, muzzle gaping into a grin as competitiveness took hold. Running her paw down Esther's neck and chest, feeling the soft breasts, Pheine spread her legs wider, thrusting into a motion that would have made a lesser fur cry out in pain. Beneath her, Esther moaned, humping her hips up futilely. Despite her efforts, Pheine remained firmly in control and pinned her down by planting one heavy paw between the vixen's bouncing breasts. She could not be outdone. The canine growled lowly, understanding her futile effort as she impaled herself on the vixen's delicious length, the small knot popping in and out of her tight vulva. Thamma was too far gone to notice, care or catch up to, let alone surpass but, lord forbid - did Pheine truly care? Her muzzle tilted back, eyes rolling in erotic delight.

Thamma had the sensation that something was rising within her, like water filling a pot at the well, poured in rather than carefully ladled. It was too warm! Her legs trembled, struggling to comply with orders, her need snarling orders to maintain movement. She had to keep that dick pounding into her cunny, keep that knot swollen and mashing against her outer lips. And, as it seemed to be, she was suddenly tumbling over the edge of the cliff, falling into flames that tickled her nerves and set her body twitching, lower jaw slack. As her orgasm flared like wildfire, all the canine could do was moan weakly, allowing Lot's knot to pop into her cunny while her pussy milked the phallus for every drop of promised seed.

Weaving his fingers in a semblance of tenderness into Esther's hair, Lot groaned deeply, bucking his hips. His lips still assertively covering the vixen's, he ran his paws down the curves of her body, each thrust into his trembling daughter shoving him closer and closer to that forbidden pleasure. Above the vixen, the older sister felt her partner tensing in movements that mimicked her father immediately before his release. Pheine tilted her head back, baring her throat, and pinned Esther's paw in an act of dominance over the sheepish vixen. The small fox jerked violently and relented to the demands of her partner for her seed, securing a deep thrust into the canine sex that shoved her knot inside a split second before she yelped in orgasm. Pheine followed suit a few seconds later, imagining that she could feel sticky ropes of fox cum coating her passage. The promise of pups made her smile faintly, holding Esther's paw as they rode out their combined pleasure.

The final one to come to the truth of sinful love, Lot secured an arm around Thamma's waist and dragged her close, howling against Esther's neck as he finally broke the passionate kiss. Locked securely into his daughter throughout devilish surges of sensation, he was left panting for breath, broad chest heaving, as Thamma slipped forward in a daze, muzzle resting on his collarbone. The older dog ran his paw up and down her back, murmuring words that were indiscernible to the drained daughter, roaring white noise in her ears ferrying her to the land of recovery and dreamless sleep. Her eyelids drooped, though she still managed to wag her tail faintly and plant a light kiss on her father's nose, the first sign of affection that she had dared show him in years. Excluding the sex, that was.

Esther seemed much the same as Thamma, exhausted from the exertion as she lightly curled an arm around Pheine, pressed to her back as the canine rolled on to her side, flanked by her father and the vixen. Esther reached out so that one pale paw fell above Lot's head as if waiting, eyelids drooping so that the last thing she saw before slipping into sleep was Lot's faintly smiling muzzle, eyes already closed. The last one left in the land of the living and wakeful, the elder canine groaned, soreness setting into her body, though the warm, furry bodies on either side helped ease the worst of it; it was a necessary pain, in her eyes, and worth every second. Pheine breathed out a sigh, blinking and thinking for some time until the gentle breathing of the furs around her lulled her into as deep a sleep as any, body and mind wholly satisfied for the first time in her young life.

*

It was peculiar for Pheine to wake so warm and comfortable on the coming of the next morn. The young canine yawned lazily, nuzzling into the soft warmth that slipped one arm around her waist, draped over her body like a snake. Where was she? Would mother come to wake them soon, chasing their tails to progress with the day? Slowly, she blinked and opened her eyes, drifting home to reality on a cloud that could only be satisfaction. Lying on her back, a blanket tangled around her legs and she kicked it aside, the fabric falling over a pale fox tail. The first to wake, she took in her surroundings: the leftover wine skins, pottery drinking vessels, Thamma with her head on her father's bare chest and Lot snoring lightly with his body curled against hers. The little vixen wound amongst their legs, a small smile brightening her muzzle as she dozed.

Relaxing, Pheine thought there was no reason to face the day just yet. Sunlight streamed into the entrance of the cave but it was still dark in their corner, cool shadows shielding their bodies from its glare. Hazy memories of the previous night danced before her eyes and, although they were probably dulled by wine, she was confident of the sexual liaisons that had taken place. Their current condition was evidence enough anyway, if memory was not to be trusted. Awkwardness and liquor aside, she felt lucky to have overcome her first sexual experience with a partner - or partners - with only minor pounding within her skull. Esther would likely fare worse with the after-effects of the wine due to her size, Pheine thought with a generous flicker of sympathy.

She sighed, bored of solitary wakefulness. As sisters were prone to do, she flipped her tail up between her legs, caked with dried semen, and prodded Thamma's shoulder, gauging how deep into sleep she still resided.

"Mm?"

Wriggling, the canine instinctively distanced herself from her sister's meddling paw, but Pheine was not to be easily dissuaded from pestering. Caressing Thamma's breast, she surrendered to a devious grin that stretched the corners of her lips to aching point. Her sister's eyelids fluttered and she moaned in reply. Thamma's paws roamed her own body as she fluttered to the land of the living, pausing at her decidedly damp sex, which did not solely drip with feminine juices. Nipping the inside of her cheek, Pheine leaned over and brushed her nose against Thamma's, bringing her to full wakefulness with a sisterly, morning kiss.

"Good morning, sister."

"And good morning...to you too, sister," Thamma mumbled, pausing to yawn midway through the utterance. "I trust it was you that deemed me unworthy to sleep any longer."

"What else are elder sisters for?"

"For leading the way."

Pheine chuckled warmly, stretching her arms above her head and unconsciously jostling the remaining sleepers. Lot woke with a dozy grunt, raising a paw to scratch the bridge of his muzzle; he swallowed twice to dispel the dryness from his maw. While he gained his bearings, Esther sat up with fluidity that neither sister could hope to master, rubbing the back of one paw over her eyes and perking one ear as if she had only now realised her condition. Her skin flushed beneath pale, sand-tone fur and the insides of her ears took on a pink shade. As wicked as ever, Pheine almost laughed out loud but was stopped in her tracks by Thamma, who jabbed her hard in the ribs with a warning glare. Lot's eyes narrowed.

"What brings us to this state, Pheine?" Lot growled.

His voice was unnaturally quiet, devoid of the usual paranoia and frantic tone. Pheine swallowed, though his arm around her waist filled her with an additional shot of confidence that was, for once, sorely needed.

"Do you not remember, father?" She stalled, eyes ever hopeful, like a pup's.

"I remember..." Lot paused, lowering his muzzle sombrely. "I remember lying with you, your sister and the vixen. This...this cannot be. It could not have been."

"But you remember," Pheine wagged her tail, ignoring his tone.

"Father, the day is not as gloomy as you would believe," Thamma piped up, trailing her paw through his chest fur. Lot shivered. "If this was 'sin', as you claimed before, we would repent. This is not sin. This is what we are meant to be. I can feel it and I will not have you languishing in the thought of holiness and sin when a sin has not been committed!"

It was so unlike Thamma to be outspoken that Lot fell into immediate, considering silence. Esther cocked her head curiously, at greater ease than the sisters would have expected, though it could be assumed that her greatest concern was her gender and not what had taken place. Thamma made a note to reassure her that all was well once she had quelled her father's idiocy. Pheine could not imagine Esther as anything else, but she still spared a moment to twitch a reassuring smile in her general direction. Modestly, Esther crossed her legs and placed her paws in her lap, protecting her genitals from view as she allowed the remainder of her body to be proudly viewed in all its grace and entirety. But there was Lot to be accounted for, even if Esther accepted prior events.

"Perhaps you are right, daughter..." Lot acknowledged after a worldly pause, his words sending Thamma's heart straight into her throat. "There are benefits to the joys of the body, this active expression of love. It is something we should reap and enjoy in the Lord's name, for he would never have sought to close this path to us. It is how we continue to be and it is how I came to be, though accepting more is a strain. I have been wrong."

"It does not matter, father," Pheine's ears quivered and she rested her head on Lot's broad chest, swiftly joined by Thamma on the opposite side of his body. "Change and understanding are the most important."

"I thought you weren't one for simple forgiveness," Thamma could not resist prodding as Pheine snorted.

"If we are changing, then I may also change my attitude towards forgiveness," Pheine quipped, tail curling against her lower back.

"Indeed," Lot did not seem to notice the mild teasing between his daughters. "Change is something to be embraced, something that we should learn from. And forgiveness is to love, remember that, my daughters."

Though she privately disagreed, Pheine nodded, feigning compliance: she would have to choose her conflicts as carefully as she chose her partners. She could not always have life her way, she finally understood. The tip of her tail twitched and her father laid his wrinkled paw upon her cheek. Pheine sneezed and turned her head pointedly, allowing the paw, dirt crusted around the claws, to pet further down her neck, cunningly avoiding the unwelcome sight and whiff. Wrinkling her nose, she made a mental note to harry her father down to the small river to bathe 'more' while they had the chance. She smiled to herself, half closing her eyes as sleep stole upon her like time preceding an unwelcome event. It was comforting to be held close in the new bond between sisters and father as their dynamic shifted perceptibly. Even Esther daintily lowered her muzzle and wrapped her arms around Lot's leg, breathing rhythmic and relaxed; her eyelids fluttered as she fought off drowsiness.

"Let us enjoy the morning and see how we may explore," Lot said softly, stroking Pheine's cheek with the gentlest of touches. "For I have made it away from the sins of Sodom to lie here with my beautiful daughters and a fair handmaid."

Thamma caught Pheine's eye and dropped a sultry wink, paw sliding sensually through Lot's fur until it came to rest above his crotch, playing with the idea of exploring. The older dog groaned responsively and, without liquor, responded eagerly to her touch, shaft growing hard in her paw. She whined, eyes feverish, and buried her muzzle in her father's neck, the familiar if unclean scent comforting her lust. The vixen squirmed and her nipples perked as they grazed Lot's fur; it was an automatic reaction but one that she took pleasure in none the less. She touched her tail lightly to Lot's, which pressed up between his legs as if to provide a fluffy pillow for his balls, and lapped enthusiastically over his jewels, paying the utmost attention to each heavy orb.

As Thamma scrambled to mount her father - his shaft slid into her slippery folds more easily the second time - Pheine wormed her way beneath Esther's body and positioned her vulpine member at the lips of her sex. Almost muzzle to muzzle with the fox, Pheine wriggled on her back, thrusting her hips away to spear herself on that delicious, red rod. Her partner yelped, jerking her hips in pleasure even as the vixen worked harder to satisfy Lot, tongue lashing in a pink flicker of motion. The mating was the first of many instances over several days of frenzied copulation.

Insatiable, Pheine and Thamma enticed the males upon every opportunity, using Esther's preference for male furs to their advantage as they encouraged her to suck Lot's cock, to their father's bashful delight. Not a drop of seed was wasted, however, as they considered it of utmost importance to become pregnant. Even if they had not taken upon the removal of their virginities, they were confident that they would ensure the continuation of their bloodline, their family and their pups. The world had opened beyond their wildest dreams and expectations with contortions of lust and realms of possibility. Anything could be done if only they fought hard enough! They only took what was right for a fur, nothing more. There was much to be learned and the sisters planned to experience all that they could.

Not a soul would ever dare restrain them.

(1)Education

Edith tilted her head back, allowing the warm morning sunshine to wash over her muzzle, which was scattered with untimely, minute flecks of grey. She did not feel her age with the, as yet, weak sun beaming. Sitting on a raised stone wall that served as a temporary seat, the nude Canaan dog swung her legs giddily, bare heels thumping the light stone as if she had reverted to her puppy years. The building to her rear was low set, consisting of one level with access to the flat roof. It was subsequently the location in which she had finally fallen into a languid stupor of sexual satisfaction when the sun was brightening the landscape. Barely slept, her hair was unkempt and her body ached with glowing exertion.

She had never felt so whole, so alive.

"I see you are enjoying the sunshine."

A pair of large paws with hard fingertips landed on her shoulders and Edith breathed out slowly, leaning back against the stallion's broad chest. Imran, a fine palomino steed with a beautifully kept mane and tail - a far cry from her husband's grooming - massaged her shoulders gently, fingers moving in soothing circles.

"I am." Edith suppressed a yawn. "I needed to think for a while."

"About what?"

Imran's voice was comforting and his touch even more so. Edith turned her muzzle, casting her eyes along the muscled lines of his chest. She had become very well acquainted with that chest the previous night. The stallion had taken a shine to her and persisted in taking her to what was classed as his private home, despite more often than not entertaining various furs from Sodom. He was an open, welcoming figure.

He was well hung too.

Edith shook her head, regaining her sensibility. The sun was getting stronger and she blinked to clear sun spots from her vision. She had left her sleeping mat and the warm bodies of bed mates for the bright morning, only to think. Her family was the most important commodity in the world for her and could not be replaced by any number of furs. Where were her daughters? Her sister, Ansha... Where was Ansha?

"I came here with my husband to look for my sister," she said at last, speaking very slowly and perhaps overly plainly. "I am still worried for her, Imran. I will not rest until I have seen her with my own eyes." Imran's paws tightened marginally on her shoulders.

"What?" Edith pushed away from Imran, jumping off the wall and whirling about. "What is it? Have you seen her? Have you seen Ansha?"

"No, I'm afraid," Imran shook his head sadly, sorry to disappoint the eager canine. "It's difficult to keep track of our people at any time - even more so during our festivals."

Edith's ears drooped and she rubbed her arm, struck by a sudden self-consciousness. Imran hastened over the wall in response to her distress, cream hooves clattering against the like-coloured stone.

"Please, do not be saddened." The stallion wrapped one arm around Edith's waist. "I assure you, she is fine. Ansha is likely better than fine, if you take our revelry into consideration."

Imran chuckled lightly, squeezing his arm around her waist, though she was unresponsive. He tried again.

"You should not be discouraged," he nuzzled the top of her head, snuffing up wisps of unruly hair. "I'm sure she'll turn up. You must be tired after last night. Are you sure that you would not like to return to the sleeping quarters?"

"No... No, I am fine, thank you," Edith said more strongly, standing up tall. "I feel more awake than ever before. Well, since I've been with Lot, that is. It's simply that my daughters are still with him - my husband the coward!"

Edith's lips twitched in memory of a snarl that she might have once given Ansha after one of her rebellious nights. Pinning his ears back anxiously, Imran backed away, tail swishing.

"I'll have the one of the servants bring you water and something to eat," he said with a small smile. "You must be hungry. But, please, rest assured - we'll have a search party out for your family this morn. We can start at the inn where Raguel was found."

"Wait!" Edith yelped as Imran turned away laboriously, appearing sore after the night before. Catching her voice, he halted mid-stride and looked back over his shoulder, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Mm?"

"I have questions!" Edith's eyes flashed, forgotten fire stirred by unbridled lust. She felt that she had finally stepped into her own body, like Ansha had done all those years ago. Edith had been sleeping while Ansha lived.

"You said you were a representative of one of the seven magistrates that governs this city," Edith continued, maintaining fierce eye contact with the stallion, who turned to face her. "I want to know about my home. Please," she said more gently, her muzzle softening. "My mother died when my sister and I were born. My father was Akkadian. I don't know anything about Sodom, beyond my experience of last night."

Imran brushed his forelock aside and nodded as she spoke, stance relaxed and arms hanging loosely at his sides. Edith held her breath, foreseeing denial once again.

"Seeing as the festivities will carry on throughout the morning," Imran considered, head tilted in an absurdly comical fashion. "I have time to spare. But allow me to recruit the search party and the servant, so we may converse over the morning meal."

"Thank you," Edith whispered, exhaling her held breath in a rush. "You don't know what that means to me."

Imran considered her.

"I think I do. Now - come."

Satisfied for the time being, Edith followed close upon Imran's heels, his taut buttocks a tantalising temptation. Edith licked her lips and shook herself, knowing that there would be plenty more males and females for her to satisfy her withheld lusts with. She did not only have to have one male any more. Things were different. Her whole life was going to be different!

Imran led her into the area where food was prepared, seemingly unwilling to bother with the issue of having the servants set up the receiving room with all the finery that was drawn on to impress guests. Quiet meals were more Edith's style, which was one scrap of information he had coaxed from her during the night. He hoped to learn more about her over the course of her stay, if she chose to remain within Sodom's walls. Murmuring quietly to two servants, Imran directed one out the door while the other, a harried looking ibex with a female's dainty, short horns, darted in and out of the pantry, arms overloaded with supplies.

Edith watched in fascination as the single ibex brought out a low table and two padded cushions, placing them before the table with a murmur of apology, though Edith could not fathom what he was apologising for. The ibex servant tucked her hair behind her large ears with rounded tips and rested four large bowls on the table, filled to the brim with ripe fruits, vegetables and soft, freshly baked bed. Hurriedly dropping some earthenware pots of spreadable flavour on the table, the ibex dashed through to the cooking area where the sound of a fire crackled in the hearth.

"Please," Imran gestured to the prepared table. "Sit. The warm food will be prepared soon. We are early this morning."

Awkwardly, Edith set herself on the cushion, legs angled to the side and ankles crossed femininely, conscious of her larger shape taking up more space than the toned equine's muscle. Arabian horses were dainty in their way, however, so Edith convinced herself that she should not feel embarrassed. It was not as if every fur in Sodom was perfectly shaped to the ideal figure of every potential mate, after all. She happened to like her shape but Lot had made many a comment, even with his bulbous belly. It did things to a female fur's confidence at times.

Oblivious to her thoughts, Imran seated himself cross-legged on the opposite cushion, reaching immediately for the fruit, which glistened with moisture; it had been kept cool in the cellar of his home, as were all perishables. Sometimes, the only bearable place - in terms of heat and comfort - in his abode was the cellar, as dark as it was. Biting into the soft, sweet fruit, Imran's eyes fell half-lidded in pleasure at the succulent flesh. He was an equine to enjoy the finer tastes in life.

"Now," he murmured, swallowing his mouthful of fruit. "What would you like to know of the city?"

"Who are our people?" Edith pounced upon opportunity, ignoring the food. "We didn't not come from here, did we? The people of Sodom?"

Imran nodded his affirmation.

"Correct. The citizens of Sodom - well, most - came from Marad, which is a Sumerian city. Or," he took a breath, "at least it was a Sumerian city. So much changes. Do you know that Sumerian cities were thought to each have a divine protector, a guardian if you will?"

"No..." Edith struggled to remember, brow furrowing in concentration. Imran patiently selected some vegetables, allowing her adequate time. There was no rush.

"No...yes... I believe I know some guardians," she said at last. "What has this to do with Marad?"

"It has everything to do with Marad, Edith," Imran nodded. "Marad had the divine guardianship of Inanna."

Edith recognised that name and caught her breath: a suitable association for Sodom...

"Concerning Marad, it was a wild, orgiastic city in comparison to the other major Sumerian cities, quite an oddity. The behaviour of our people was mildly tolerated by Ur Nammu, for the most part. It was when Sargon and the rest of the Akkadians came and conquered Sumer that life became increasingly difficult."

Imran frowned and his dished muzzle was briefly obscured by the memories of their collected history, passed down to him from his ancestors. Edith sat perfectly still, trying to absorb this new information.

"I was told, as a youngster, that we travelled for weeks before arriving in this area, back when it was even more desolate," Imran mused, fingers pressed beneath his chin.

"Forgive my interruption," Edith said gently, drawing him back on to the topic at hand. "But, Innana, she is the Goddess of lust and fertility, am I correct? If so, that is most fitting in my mind."

"Ah, I see that you recognise her," Imran smiled, his eyes brightening and ears pricking up. "She is the one. The festival that is continuing over the next few days, what we began last night is dedicated to her. We celebrate the beginning of the summer solstice in her name."

Imran paused once more and Edith contemplated how many pauses the stallion made in conversation. He was a thoughtful sort, but not always a charm to converse with. Rubbing her shoulder, she bumped her drooping but large breasts with an elbow and winced, still unrecovered from the exuberant sexual activity. Oh, how she wanted to experience that again. Considering her location and inclinations, however, she had the distinct feeling that it would not be long before she was able to take another male to bed. Imran leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and focused on the Canaan dog with an intent, blue gaze.

"Do you know of the tale of her ascent from the underworld?"

"No, I am sad to admit," Edith murmured, her muzzle dipping. "I never heard many Sumerian myths during my lifetime. My father only knew of the Akkadian legends."

"It is a good story," Imran settled himself more comfortably upon the cushion, as eager as a foal to tell his tale.

"Inanna once entered the underworld and subsequently became trapped there - oh, thank you Naram!"

A distraction appeared in form of the ibex, who placed another bowl on the table beside one of freshly cooked strips of meat, solely intended for Edith's palate.

"Edith," Imran offered her the bowl. "You must try some of our figs. They are some of the most delicious fruits we have here, though we haven't the luxury of the best sources, so to speak."

Politely, Edith selected two figs from the bowl and bit into one, murring at the taste. The figs were indeed delicious and she polished two off swiftly, soon starting on a third. Imran watched her satisfy her appetite with the enjoyment of a lover and continued with his tale as she ate.

"Now, back to Inanna. She, of course, needed to escape the underworld and, Enki, a god, sought her return," Imran paused to dab juice away from his lips. "The underworld, however, would not allow her to leave without exchanging her for another, as is the price. Inanna searched for her servant, her beauty groomer and her son, hoping that one of them would be willing to take her place. But Inanna did not have the heart to ask such a sacrifice of any of these furs, as they all mourned her disappearance, loving her deeply."

"Finally, she sought out her husband, Dumuzi, who she was surprised to find had not mourned her disappearance to the underworld. This was her point of power. She sent him to the underworld in her place and rose back to Earth as a Goddess. Our festival celebrates her return to the world by the burning of a wooden structure that represents Dumuzi. We burn it in the middle of the city. On the other side of the scale, we burn an effigy of Inanna at the winter solstice. Aside from the burning, which happens at the conclusion of the ceremony, we boast five days of rampant feasting and sexual activity with one another."

"Fascinating," Edith murmured, cupping a pottery drinking vessel between her paws. "But how do you maintain such behaviour? Don't the citizens become jealous and fight? And who in this land raises all the subsequent offspring? You must be overrun with youngsters!"

Imran laughed, the sound musical and light. Edith could not help but smile, ears angled forward expectantly.

"No, no," he reassured her. "Most do not have anything to be jealous over as they have a vast selection of partners at any given time. The sexual acts tend to pacify the males, which is one of the contributing factors in allowing many females to be our high ranking officials. The males that would normally fight their way to the top are generally satisfied and, as such, are willing to abdicate most of their ruling powers. As for the children... If I may be so bold as to ask, how many canines did you sleep with the evening prior?"

"If memory serves me correctly, I don't believe any," Edith blushed, recalling her partners one by one. Imran nodded as if it was exactly the response that he expected.

"We have so many different species' here that we can mate as we wish without producing offspring," Imran said with a smile. "It does not always have to mean the birth of a new life. When young are the result of our sexual delights, the mothers and grandmothers raise them collectively. Then the males provide for them."

"As you can expect, there is often uncertainty as to who the father is, so it is considered the duty of the men and women of Sodom to be kind to all youngsters, as everyone here is collectively a child of Sodom."

Edith gasped, dropping her fifth fig and clapped her paws to her muzzle. She had not seen any pups or other youngsters in Sodom but...what if they had been there?

"Goddess! How can pups be raised in such depravity?" Edith shook her head. "Were they at the city centre last night? Did they watch? This is dreadful, I can't believe this... I don't want to imagine -"

"No, no!" Imran jumped in, holding up his paws. "No, there were no youngsters there, Edith, please do not worry yourself. We isolate the young from those old enough to take part in sexual activities, so they do not become old before their time."

Seeing that Edith was calmer, he continued more slowly, relaxing back into his padded cushion.

"During the festivities, the young attend the feasts but are sequestered to the quarters of the elder females. They do not know what is happening and I do not recall being particularly interested in the proceedings when I was a foal. I only wanted to play with my friends in the quiet quarters, as all us young ones were together those nights. We caused no end of trouble for the elders!"

Imran whinnied out a laugh, though Edit watched him cautiously as only a mother could. Her daughters were old enough to partake in the celebrations as she had. Noting her remaining concern, Imran placed one paw on top of hers and Edith tensed, unwilling to withdraw.

"We have very strict laws on the abuse of the young, I will have you know, Edith," he said seriously, eyes imploring her to believe. "Nothing bad happens to the young. And, if it does, those involved are punished severely, but we have not had a case during my lifetime."

Placated over the case of the young furs for the time being, Edith looked suspiciously at Imran's paw, resisting the urge to tug hers away.

"And diseases..." She approached the topic delicately but straight to the point. "How can you possibly prevent them amongst these myriad couplings?"

"The answer is simple," Imran withdrew his paw and clasped both to his chest. "Those that are ill are never allowed to participate, otherwise, well...you know what would occur. We have a rigid set of rules for sexual disease and a mandatory dye marking system for those disallowed. It might seem a bit unfair but they can take single mates, if the other agrees, and they do not lose out from life itself. But we cannot have diseases spread."

"Actually," Imran continued, struck by a sudden thought. "Due to the general lack of outsiders available to mate with our people, restrictions have seldom been imposed. Visitors are seldom assimilated into our culture."

"I see," Edith was not slow on the uptake. "Why then was I allowed to mate yesterday then? I received no such evaluation or test to ensure that I was free of disease."

The servant reappeared with fresh water, a luxury in such a location. Edith drank deeply, letting the cool moisture wash around her mouth. Imran contemplated his answer.

"From what your sister told us before - the officials, I mean - no examination was needed. She told us that you rarely mated with your husband and definitely not any other males or females. My dear Edith, that is simply why we were so excited to see your party upon your arrival. We seldom allow visitors to participate in our ceremonies." Imran chuckled and slipped Edith a conspirator's wink. "The men can become rather rowdy about a male's virgin arse, if I may confide."

Edith's eyes widened as she imagined the males of Sodom crowding her husband's decidedly virgin backside. Lot would have a fit! A reckless giggle bubbled in her throat and she pressed her paw over her lips to quell it. Imran shook his head and pretended to sip his water while she composed herself, shaking with suppressed mirth. When she was calm and able to speak clearly, Edith cast a glance out the open doorway.

"I hope Lot hasn't gone off like a scared puppy and done something ridiculous. It'd be just like him to cause a scene."

"Whatever the circumstance," Imran said solemnly, "he has daughters of Sodom accompanying him. Have faith. It is the summer solstice and Inanna will protect your daughters."

Edith sighed heavily and cast her mind back to their quarters at the inn where her daughters likely lay, still beautifully asleep. Her two lovely daughters. How were they now? She met Imran's eyes and narrowed her gaze, as if daring him to contradict her next words.

"I hope you are right."