FSE

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Prologue

Sixteen-year-old Sierra stood in the backyard of her home, hanging her laundry to dry as the dusk spilled pink and purple across the sky. She was doe-eyed and buxom, the nipples on her large tits dark as raisins, her sex dark as well. Her fur was gray, her nails were black, and her narrow back was dappled with little black splotches. She moved with switching tail and hips, and humming to herself, she bent over the basket of wash in the grass. Her pussy lips stuck large between her thighs as she plucked another wet sheet from the basket and straightened up again. She took a clothespin from the corner of her mouth and started clipping.

Behind her in the hut, her mother would be making supper. Her father would be on patrol. They would have to spend another lonely night without him.

When she was a little pup, she resented her father for always being away. And then whenever he was around, he was sleeping or too tired to pay attention to her. Each time she complained, her mother reminded her that males worked hard everyday to keep the village safe. Though the war had been over for decades now, there would always be tension between the summer tribe and the winter tribe. The winter wolves would never forget what they lost when the summer wolves took possession of their summer lands. And they would never forget what they lost _again_when they occupied the summer village . . . only to lose it when the summer tribe rebelled.

Sierra found that the older she became, the less she complained, preferring to settle into bitterness and resentment. Let her father ignore her! She had a better male in her life, and when he claimed her at the mating season, she would no longer have to be afraid. She would no longer have to sit up at night, frightened because she and her mother were alone. Sion would be there. Sion had promised.

Sion. Sierra pushed her long gray mane behind her ear and smiled as she thought of the young male. She still remembered the first day she noticed him, though he maintained that he had always noticed her.

She was in the woods behind the grazing fields, picking berries and gathering nuts to make cakes while her mother tended to their sheep. Sion had come up through the trees with a group of young males. The males were in the care of an older warrior and were learning from him. All the boys ogled Sierra, who was so young and pretty and avoided looking at them with fluttering lashes. Their instructor yelled at them and smacked several heads.

Shy and embarrassed, Sierra turned away from the group, afraid to bend over and pick up the nuts she had noticed in the underbrush. She knew they were watching, that they were waiting for her to bend over. She could feel eyes on her back and glanced cautiously around the long sweep of her mane.

That was when she noticed him. Sion stood staring at her, his dark eyes warm with affection. He was dark gray and toned with muscles. His mane was long past his shoulders and he had white feathers in it. The feathers on his talisman were white as well - which Sierra noticed immediately and blinked, impressed: white feathers came from certain birds in the area that were very, very difficult to catch. This meant he was an impressive hunter. Or his father was: sometimes talismans were handed down through the generations.

Sion's dark pretty eyes gazed at her intently, and he smiled at her, slow and sweet. Her flashes fluttered and she smiled back. She gasped when she saw his instructor coming up behind, furious and tight-lipped, and wanted to warn him but knew it was too late: the instructor whacked Sion over the head, and as the other boys laughed, the group of student warriors went on.

Smiling to herself, present-day Sierra continued to pin the large sheet on the line. The day she first noticed Sion, it had only been a week ago. He came to her house that same night, looked in her window, and told her that he loved her, had always love her, and would she allow him to claim her at their mating season? She had said yes - only to gasp when her mother came up behind him and smacked his head with a broom. Sierra's mother had then proceeded to chase Sion away up the street, and Sierra was forced to sleep in her mother and father's room every night to make sure no boys crept in the windows and deflowered her.

Sierra contented herself with casting Sion looks of longing and receiving them in return as they continued their lives around the village. And then one day . . . Sion's brother noticed her too.

Sicheii did not smile. He was often solemn-faced and serious, peering at Sierra with a hard lust in his eyes that frightened her. He looked a great deal like Sion, only he was slightly taller, and instead of white feathers in his mane and on his talisman, he had dark brown. This meant Sicheii was either the lesser hunter of the two brothers or Sion was their father's favorite: if the white talisman was a family heirloom, it should have gone to the older brother. But for whatever reason, Sion had it.

Sierra could tell that Sicheii desired her and avoided looking at him at all costs. He was one year older than Sion, which meant he was close to his first mating season. It also meant - to her great relief - that he could not claim her. Not unless he took a second mating season. And even then, he would have to fight Sion for her. Sion had sworn to protect her from other males. She was spoken for.

Sierra's mother hated Sion, of course. She told Sierra on a daily basis that she had a bad feeling about him, that Sierra should forget him and simply hope for the best at her mating season. But Sierra only rolled her eyes and ignored her mother. Sion would never hurt her! Never!

"You don't even know him!" Sierra's mother had practically shouted. "You've never had a real conversation with him a day in your life!"

"Neither have you!" Sierra shouted back. But now, thanks in no small part to her mother, she always carried a nagging doubt whenever she looked at Sion. And Sion, sensing her fear, would frown at her whenever she avoided his eye.

Sierra bent over the basket again, thinking that it wouldn't be long before Sion had claimed her, before she was his caring wife hanging his laundry in their yard. She was almost seventeen. Next year, she would enter the forests with the other females, and the males would come. Sion knew her scent. Sion would find her and make love to her . . . and everything would be perfect. Her mother would see.

Sierra was straightening up again when a paw cupped her tit from behind. She squealed and dropped the laundry. A hard paw covered her mouth. She was snatched into the embrace of a muscly arm and could feel the hard press of a male's ripping belly on her back. She went very still as the male sniffed her neck.

His big paw continued to cup and massage her tit. She watched with fluttering lashes as his large fingers shaped her. It was as if she was being milked, slowly and tenderly. His fingers tweaked her nipple and she whimpered. They tweaked her again, carefully.

The paw covering her mouth took her other tit. He cupped her hard from behind, and she screamed softly when she felt the sudden slap of his erection against her tail. He grunted in her ear as he got hard. No! No! She began to struggle, big breasts flapping.

"No! P-Please leave me alone - Mm!"

He covered her mouth again. She struggled like a frightened bird. He was starting to growl. She could feel it vibrating up from his chest. Her heart thudded in her ears. She twisted and squirmed and almost got away. He followed, holding on, and they fell to their knees together. Her breasts flapped hard as they fell. A rock cut her knee and she sobbed.

But she had to get away! She smacked his paw off her mouth and screamed for help, lunged forward, crawled desperately through the dirt and grass. He grabbed her by the mane and jerked her back, kicked her knees apart.

"Help! S-Someone - Ah!"

His paw locked on her throat and squeezed, a silent threat. Kneeling with her back against him, she went very still, trembled, and wept. She understood. If she screamed again, he would snap her neck.

When she didn't struggle, his paw left her throat, smoothing down her slender belly to her pussy. She trembled and sobbed as he slid his fingers in and out between the lips, gently caressing. He sighed in her ear and massaged her tit again. He had stopped growling and seemed more absorbed now in his arousal than keeping her docile. She suddenly lunged.

"Help!"

The basket of laundry tumbled over when she scrambled. He was on top of her in seconds. He grabbed her mane again, harder, and she choked a soft scream as he mounted her. His hard muscles were heavy on top of her, his body shuddering. He grunted and growled as she twisted to crawl away, as he sought to hold her still. Her breasts were flapping everywhere. He kicked her knees apart again, and grabbing her by the arm, he forced the head of his cock inside.

It was enormous. She felt her maidenhead splitting. She screamed and managed to buck him off, kicking wildly now. No, not that! That was for Sion! For Sion!

"S-Somebody --"

Sierra screamed again when a sheet was pulled over her face. She clawed at the sheet, blind and unable to breathe. He slammed her on her back, put her thighs on his hips, and grabbing her by the wrists, he punched his cock in.

Sierra's screams were muffled behind the sheet as her straining pussy clung tight to his cock. "It hurts! It hurts! S-Stop!" She could feel the blood oozing down her thighs as he pulled on her wrists, fucking her hard and fast. Her tits flapped with every thrust as her splayed legs flapped around him. He fucked her quickly, frantically, pulling on her wrists in desperation.

With the sheet wrapped around her face, Sierra swallowed hard and closed her eyes, numbing herself to the pain. She sobbed when he pulled hard on her wrists, thrusting his cock deep inside and sputtering. Her eyes fluttered wide behind the sheet: he had come inside! His hot fluids rushed to fill her and spilled over, seeping between the lips of her pussy.

"No! N-No!"

He grunted and let her go. She lay there, feeling used, groped, and torn. She could hear him panting, then a soft rustle. Something fell near her head. And then he was gone.

With a trembling paw, Sierra pulled the sheet off her face and blinked out tears. Her pussy was torn and bleeding. Why hadn't her mother come to help her? Why had no one come to help her? She broke down sobbing and rolled onto her side. When she opened her eyes again . . . she saw the white-feathered talisman lying in the dirt.