FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Oh, like wow, man. Have you ever noticed how cool hands are?" Shaggy giggled as he held a paw up in front of his face and slowly wiggled his fingers. "No wonder that dog dude decided to be only half dog. He's got those, like, terrifying fangs, but he's still, like, got those fingers to grab you with so he can, like bite off your head."

Normally Shaggy would have made such a statement in a state of utter terror, but he'd self medicated himself to the point where the idea of getting his head bitten off by a huge half man, half pitbull, only made him giggle.

Not so the huge great dane who was his constant companion. Scooby Doo wrapped his paws around his own throat while whimpering. He gulped at the thought of getting his head chomped off in one big bite. "Let's get out of here," he begged Velma in his usual garbled style of speech that only long acquaintance allowed her to understand.

The red-headed cat girl he addressed was twitching her tail furiously behind her while her ears were laid flat against her head in fury. "Really, Shaggy. You just had to pick this time to light up and get baked," she growled at her companion, ignoring the great dane who was currently doing his best to hide under a small end table that was about four times too small for the job.

Velma's brows furrowed as she regarded the vacant-eyed hippie.  Why couldn't he want to use her as much as he wanted to use marijuana?  She had tried her best to telegraph her interest in him but it never seemed to register with the unkempt partner.  She had tried going braless around him without getting so much as a second look from him. The same could not be said for a few of the fake monsters they'd encountered during that period, which is why she gave up that experiment.  Even though they hurt her eyes she had even tried contact lenses, hoping they would make her more comely and less bookish.  She had utilized subtle double-entendres and more earthy phrases to project her willingness to engage in sexual banter, but it rolled off his back like rain on a duck.  She had 'accidentally' dropped her magnifying glass in front of him and bent over at the hips in front of him to retrieve it, giving him a good look at her panti-incased twat.  But when she stole a look to gauge his response all she saw was the same empty expression.

No. The object of her many mastibatory fantasies seemed preoccupied with pot and food and his mangy dog, Scooby.  Velma had to suffer through the many public displays of affection (and more) of her other partners, Daphne Blake and Fred Jones.  Their shameless behavior only seemed to illustrate Velma's continuing frustration.  Their surreptitious groping and kissing both disgusted and fascinated Velma.  She assumed that whenever those two were off, ostensibly searching for the bad guy during a mission, that they were instead engaging in rough, spontaneous sex.  Velma could almost picture Fred thrusting his erect, athletic penis relentlessly into Daphs receptive, yielding body. And given Fred's obsession with traps, she bet ropes and nets were involved somehow.  Why couldn't Velma be doing that with Shaggy?  Granted, Shaggy wasn't exactly any woman's ideal of manhood, but he was at least available.  

Velma was shocked from her reverie by the sound of her cell phone.  

"Hey, guys," came Fred's cheery voice when she put it on speaker.  "Daph and I are downstairs in the van.  What's keeping you two?  No hanky panky, I hope!"

Velma could hear Daph's mocking giggle in the background.  "Stop it, D!  She'll hear you," came a laughing whisper from Fred.  

Face red with frustration and annoyance, Velma roused the semi-slumbering Shaggy and pushed him down to the street where the Mystery Machine was waiting.  

"Oh boy, looks like Shaggy has really tied one on!" guffawed Fred.  

"Disgusting!" hissed Daphne..  

Scooby, looking properly chagrinned, took his place in the back of the van.

Velma slid onto the bench seat in the front of the van, her hips shoving Daphne closer to Fred.

"All right, gang, we're all clear on the plan, right?" Fred asked.

Daphne rolled her eyes as she said, "We should be, you and Velma have gone over it enough times. The culprit is Mr. Dogsbody. He's been targeting all the girls from his high school class that made his school life miserable. He's been dressing up like a demonic hellhound master and commands his pack of hell hounds to attack them." Daphne's brows furrowed, "We still don't know exactly what happens on those attacks, only that it traumatized them and they refuse to talk about it."

"Yeah, like, not even that hottie, Miss Sweetass, who called us in would 'fess up." Shaggy moved his hands through the air in the typical male fashion to indicate an hourglass like figure. "Like, she's sure ain't no dog."

"That's Sweethause," Velma corrected him in annoyance, annoyed that Shaggy had noticed that lady's attributes. Maybe her ass was a bit bigger, but it was every bit as shapely. If only Shaggy could get his face out of the trough long enough to notice.

"Anyway!" Fred broke in with a loud cough. "We don't have any direct evidence. We've got to catch him in the act. We were lucky enough to find out that Miss Suka had received a prize notification, when she never entered everything. We're going to show up at the location to collect that prize, and I'll bet we'll find our hellhound master there."

Velma consulted her thick notebook.  "It's at the old Taylor mansion."

"That place makes me goose-bumpily just to drive by," Daph shuddered.

"Yeah, ain't it great," Fred said in enthusiasm. "The perfect place for our hellhound master to spring his trap, and for us to turn the tables on him. "

"Like, speak for yourself, man. I don't want to go nowhere near that spooky place," Shaggy said with a shudder.

"Ruh, ruh, me too," Scooby chimed in.

"Too bad you're not driving," Velma said sarcastically. The way she felt at the moment seeing Shaggy get so scared he pissed himself would be just what she needed to make her feel better.

With an explosive backfire and a cloud of exhaust the Mystery Machine pulled from the curb.

Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of the old Taylor mansion. The rambling three story edifice had seen better days, and the massive twisted and bare trees, reaching for the sky like huge skeletal hands, that filled the area around it did nothing to make the scene look any less spooky. As if on cue, a flash of lightning illuminated the old Victorian mansion.

"Okay, gang. Just like we planned. Daphne and I'll prepare the trap in the old ballroom. You three wonder around the house. Velma you're a dead ringer for Miss Suka from back in her high school days. No way will he be able to resist setting his pack of hell hounds on you. Scooby and Shaggy will be your backup.

"Thanks. But I think I'll rely on these to distract the dogs," Velma said in a cutting tone as she held up a box of Scooby snacks and gave it a good shake.

The sounds had a Pavlovian effect on Scooby and he sat up eagerly grinning in a begging posture, which revealed his sizable doggy package to anyone who happened to glance in his direction, whether they wanted to see it or not. His full sheath swayed from side to side with his movements and his goose-egg sized testicles were splayed on the floor of the van.  Scooby's shameless yet innocent display of his organs always grossed out Velma.  She had always thought that they should make him wear pants or a diaper or something to hide his offensive bits, especially since they were so pronounced. Despite her avowed disgust, she couldn't help but think how nice it would be if Shaggy were half as well  hung, and as eager to display himself.

Velma's attention was drawn away from Scooby's display. By the loud clunk of Fred forcing open the back doors so he could extract his beloved trap paraphernalia. Velma stifled a laugh as she suddenly realized that laying traps for bad guys was not the only type of trap he liked. She had, on a few occasions, found magazines under the front seat of the Mystery Machine that showed various young men posing as women.  She knew that Shaggy had no interest is such perversions, so they had to belong to Fred. His poorly-kept secret fetish was a source of amusement for Velma. She often wondered if he had Daphne use one of those plastic penisis on him in private. The image of him on all fours with Daphne behind him was not without some erotic interest to the brunett.

"Commo check," announced Fred.

"Testing, one, two three..." Velma spoke into her cheap walkie-talkie.  

"Toking, four, five, six," Shaggy chimed in in a gasping breath as he took three big puffs on a dooby he had produced from nowhere. "Like, man, this is righteous stuff."  He instinctively passed the roach to Velma.  

"No thanks, Shaggy.  I don't use drugs!" Velma said in distaste. She wrinkled her nose while wishing her would be boyfriend could go more than an hour without doing the same thing.

"Smells like skunk weed," Daphne groused.  

"Reeyou," Scooby agreed, pinching his sensitive nose shut with a paw.

"I wish you'd lay off the mary jane before a trap mission, Shaggy," Fred complained. "How's Scooby supposed to sniff out the bad guy if his nose is all clogged up with that stink?"

"Like man. You're harshing my buzz. Don't you get it? Only reason Scooby will even come close to those sorts is if he can't smell them," Shaggy said in a dreamy voice.

The gang split up at that point, and Velma was left with Scooby and a gently swaying Shaggy who was feeling more and more mellow. From experience Velma resorted to the best method she knew to get the two of them into the haunt of the Hellhound master. She plucked the joint from between Shaggy's fingers and holding it in one hand and a scooby snack in the other she slowly backed toward the house with the two male trailing behind her, in hypnotic fascination, their eyes and minds focused on their respective treats to the exclusion of all else.

The interior of the mansion was expectedly dark, damp and dusty.  Cobwebs hung theatrically from every corner, and the floor was littered with rodent droppings.  There was an overwhelming sense of decay about the place.  Few of the windows had been spared by vandals, and the wind brew freely through the place. The turn-of-the-century furnishing were broken and scattered.  What once were expensive rugs were now mats of moss and corruption.  The wallpaper hung down in tattered strips.  

Scooby's muscular body shook as if with a sudden chill.

"Looks like d' place," Shaggy murmured.

"Team one to team two," Velma dutifully reported to her walkie-talkie.  She was met only with static.  Cheap Toys R Us junk, she thought.

  On the other side of the house Fred lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth and said, "We read you team one." A moment later he said, "Team one?" in a questioning tone. His only answer was Velma saying. "No, Shaggy. I don't think you can smoke that moss." in an exasperated tone.

"Velma. Can you hear me," Fred shouted.

"And stop licking that frog!  They're not the right species!" came crackling out of his device. You could almost hear Velma's tail swishing through the air in agitation at Shaggy's behavior.

"Huh, guess it's only one way. Oh well. We'll still be able to hear when the Hellhound master makes his move. Lets get to work on setting up the trap."

Back on the other side of the house Velma barely resisted the urge to throw the defective communication device across the room. Instead she hung it around her neck by the lanyard and set out to explore. Much to her annoyance she had no concrete assignment. She was just suppose to wonder around the house in the hope the idiot pulling this con would mistake her for one of the girls who had tormented him in high school and set his pack of dogs on her.

She instinctively rotated her ears back towards a loud snore from behind her. She hissed in annoyance as she spotted Shaggy sprawled out in one of the few chairs that were more or less still in one piece. The bedraggled cat-boy was dead to the world and the reason became obvious when with a disgusted croak a small brightly colored frog jumped out of his hand and into the shadows.

"How about that? Some of them were that type of frog after all. I wonder how it ended up here?" Velma remarked, for a moment her scientific curiosity outweighing her disgust at Shaggy's behavior.

Scooby merely regarded his master with concern and surprise.

Shaggy seemed in peaceful repose, a silly smile on his face.   Velma shook his shoulder vigorously but could not rouse him.  

"He's dead to the world, Scooby," she murmured.

In his slumber the effects of the mixed drugs in his system must have had an unpredictable effect on the hippie, for the crotch of his jeans were tented provocatively  The sight sent small bolts of electricity through the bemused cat girl standing between his outstretched legs.   Shaggy looked as large as he was in her dreams.  His erection snaked down a leg of his jeans like a fat sausage.  

Velma felt her labia twitch involuntarily, and her nipples tighten in her sweater. Her bra suddenly felt a cup size too small and her flowered cotton panties a bit too tight. She trained the beam of her pen light onto the pulsating organ in Shaggy's pants.  He mustn't be wearing underwear, for the definition was remarkable.  She could easily tell he was circumcised by the swell of the bulbous head.  

Velma's head was swimming.   She wanted to reach out and touch the organ, to feel it in her hand, but Scooby's disapproving glare stopped her.  

"Oh, what do you care?" Velma asked defensively. "Did you ask that poodle the other day if she wanted it? Poor thing could barely walk afterwards."

Scooby looked smug, and buffed his chest with a paw proudly. Between his legs his cock slipped slightly out of its sheath in memory of despoiling the stuck up purebred bitch.  With any luck she'll be dropping a load of mongrel puppies in a few months. He tried to count on his paw how many that was now, but math was not exactly his strong suit. The best he could come up with was 'many'. All he knew for sure was that there were Scooby juniors. spread all across the nation, and beyond. Well, that, and the fact that it had way too long since he'd stumbled across a bitch in heat. He blamed Shaggy for clogging up his nose with the reek of swamp-quality pot. He was so horny he was about ready to screw a knothole in a fence post. It had been a long time since he'd resorted to leg humping, but he had to admit that Velma's shapely limbs were looking better and better. And that wasn't all.  She wasn't exactly a dog, but she'd do in a pinch. She had the most important part. A nice tight warm hole. Or at least he was pretty sure she did. He'd never seen her without a chunk of cloth covering the most important part. Despite that, and despite his clogged nose, he could smell the level of frustration she was experiencing. It was like the smell of fear, only sweeter.

Oblivious to the carnal thoughts going through the big dog's mind, Velma said. "Come on, Scooby. Shaggy is out for the count. We might as well leave him here to sleep it off." Reluctantly, she turned her back on Shaggy, and the promising bulge in his pants and set out for the interior of the mansion. She only got a few steps, however, before she turned and hurried back. She rapidly frisked Shaggy, and extracted numerous pills and a bag of weed from his pockets. And if she checked out his measurements at the same time, well, that was just her being thorough. The feel of Shaggy's turgid member was making her juice up slightly.  She might have gone a lot further, but the feel Scooby's ice-cold nose pressed against her rump snapped her out of it.

Shortly Velma was walking down a dingy hallway, pausing only to toss the confiscated drugs into a vacant room. Scooby was right behind her, his nose occasionally shoving itself into the crack of ass as the scaredy dog kept as close as possible to her. Or so she assumed based on previous experience. It never occurred to her that it might be something other than terror motivating the big dane.

Scooby became aware that his own organ was distending from its sheath, bobbing beneath his belly.  The cool night air stung it.  The orbs of his balls began to relax and hang lower.  Scooby looked around for a female dog, but could not sense the presence.  It was confusing.  He only felt this way when he was in the proximity of a bitch in heat.  He had never responded this way to Daphne when she was in heat, which seemed to be all the time.  Daphne was a cat, after all.  He was not wired to respond to cat pheromones. But despite the fact that Velma was also a cat, he was sniffing something that sure smelt like a bitch in heat. He shoved his nose deep into the crack of Velma's ass once more, just below her tail. Yes, there it was. For some reason there was a strong scent of a canine in need of some good stiff loving. Hungry dog pussy.  Scooby didn't pause to wonder why. It was enough for him that it was there. Now if he could just figure out how to get that protective wrapper off.

Velma jumped at the sudden intrusion of Scooby's nose against her overheated clam, her tail looking like a bottle brush as it stuck straight out behind her. "Back off, Scooby," she hissed, swiping at the nosy canine with her claws extended. She couldn't figure out what had gotten into the big dog. Maybe it was the panties she was wearing. She'd borrowed them from the lady she was impersonating after discovering Shaggy had left her bag back at their last stop. Maybe the detergent she used in her laundry had an intriguing scent? She jumped again as Scooby shoved his large head between her legs and nearly lifted her off her feet as he thrust his nose right up against her lightly clothed crotch.

"What gotten into you, mutt?"  She turned angrily to confront Scooby, and only then became aware at the degree of his arousal.  The sight of his angry distended organ frightened the cat girl. She'd thought Shaggy was big, but Scooby put him to shame. No wonder that Poodle had been limping.   Scooby's was of barnyard proportions. She could almost feel it throbbing in the air, like the base notes of a guitar.

 

The hungry look in the great dane's eyes shook her.  And not his Scooby-snack look, either.  This was the look of a feral hunter.  And she suddenly felt like his prey.  

"Team two!  This is team one.  Mayday!  Mayday!" she pleaded into her handset hoping that the glitch from before had fixed itself. She was greeted only by static.

A moment later Scooby reared up on his hind legs and settled his front paws on her shoulders. His heavyweight almost made her knees buckle.  On his hind legs like this he towered over the smallish cat-girl. He began planting long, sloppy licks on her face, smearing her glasses.   

  "Did you hear something, Daphne," Fred asked, looking over at the other side of the ball room where he had set down the walkie talkie. Daphne's only reply was a muffled, 'gluck?' Understandable as she currently had her mouth filled with Fred's cock.

Building traps always made the blond hunk horny.

On the other side of the house Velma heaved Scooby away from her and backed up till she was pressed into a corner. "Now, Scooby, you got to calm down," Velma said, trying to keep the panic she was feeling out of her voice. "How about I give you a nice Scooby snack?. Scooby looked less than impressed with that offer. Scooby then did something Velma thought him incapable of.  He took the box of Scooby snacks into his jaws and with a flip of his head tossed them to the far side of the room. Giving a soft growl he began to stalk toward her. In desperation Velma made another offer, "Or a hand-job? Just to take the edge off?"  

Scooby smiled toothily and slowly shook his head in the negative. But, then the big dog paused. One of the problems with canine sex was a lack of variation. The bitches he nailed were not exactly the most inventive of partners, and while Scooby was an uninvolved dog, he was more intelligent than most of his ilk. A hand job sounded pretty darn kinky, considering he'd never had a partner who had hands before. After a few moments of consideration he flopped over on his back and leg his hind legs spread, fully exposing his tumorous erection in all it's gleaming red glory. He gave Velma a firm look, his expression clearly calling on her to make good on her offer. He bucked his hips a few times to telegraph his desires.

Velma swallowed nervously as she took in the evidence of Scooby's condition. Despite the fact he was a dog, and not of the humanoid variety, she found her body reacting to the sight in a very inappropriate way. In a way, that was even scarier than Scooby's behavior. He was just an animal, she was suppose to be intelligent and above such thoughts. It was as if some primal, primitive part of her brain was taking dominance.  She was behaving like a cave-cat.

Despite her body's behavior, If Scooby had been a strange dog she would have considered booting him the balls, but he wasn't. He was a friend who had saved her on numerous occasions. This was not like him. Clearly something had gotten into him. She remembered Shaggy's condition when they had left him back in the other room and wondered if maybe Scooby had been exposed to the same drugs that had caused that.

If that was the case he was a victim, and he needed her help. "Think of it as milking a cow," she told herself as she slowly eased out the corner she was backed into and crept across the room toward the great dane. She gingerly knelt beside the prostrate hound, keeping her knees firmly locked together.  Scooby's eyes went from her, to his cock, and back to her, as if to say, "Get with it- it's not going to jack itself".

Tentatively, hesitatingly, she took his pink torpedo in her fingertips.  The heat from it surprised her.  It literally burned in her fingers.  She could feel it twitch at her touch. That wasn't the only thing twitching. Despite all her denials there was no escaping the fluttering feeling between her legs. Her very few sexual encounters had left her ill prepared to cope with this situation. And none of her previous partners had been as well endowed as Scooby. The scientist in her could not help be a little curious about how it would feel to have something that big shoved into her body. It certainly wouldn't be a gentle coupling. It would put a whole new meaning to the term fucking like animals. I wonder if Einstein felt this way when he came up with relativity, she wondered.

Scooby let out a low growl and hitched his hips, causing Velma's hand to bounce upward as his cock thrust straight up into the air, filling her tiny fist. Taking the hint she began to pump her hand up and down the slick shaft.

The feel of his rock-hard doggie cock in his hand was mesmerizing, magical.  As if she was drawing off power from the ugly organ.  It coursed and surged through her body, filling her with a heady energy. Her bra had already felt tight, but now it seemed to be strangling her as her breasts grew heavier with her arousal and her nipples felt painful as they swelled and pressed hard against the stiff fabric. As if guided by some alien force her free hand reached up under her sweater and undid the clasp of her bra between her jugs.  The seemed to burst forth, relieved of their polyester prison, and jutted out proudly and defiantly.  

  Scooby watched this with interest, his hips hunching in time with Velma's stroking. He'd never really given a lot of thought to the tits the girls sported. Female dogs only grew them after he knocked them up. They'd always been evidence of his having finished the job, rather than an incentive to do it again. But for some reason Velma's large orbs seemed mesmerizing as they bounced under her sweater like a pair of wrestling puppies. A vague memory of sucking at his mother teats filled his mind and he drooled as he contemplated tasting Velma's large udders.

Velma found that loosening her bra only took care of one area of discomfort. She still had a churning ball of arousal in her gut and her soaking wet clam seemed to be begging for attention. Mindful of keeping Scooby under control, she continued to pump a hand up and down his long hot shaft, but she hunched forward as she slipped her free hand up under her skirt and inside her panties. She rested her shoulders against Scooby's hind legs to maintain her balance as she began to rub her clit frantically in time with the  hand job she was giving Scooby. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were closed as she panted gustily.

  Scooby was finding a  hand job to be less interesting and kinky than he had hoped. In fact it was downright frustrating. Instead of easing his urges it only made him long more intently for a hot, wet, tight, hole to thrust it into. He noticed that Velma's gaping mouth was only inches away from the tip of his prick as she hunched over him. He'd always liked it when his partners had licked him clean afterwards. Maybe if Velma added a little tongue to her hand job thing it would feel better.

Not really thinking he stretched out his forelegs and placed his paws on the back of Velma's head and shoved downward. He'd only intended to encourage her to use her tongue, but what he got was way better. Velma's open mouth engulfed the head of his cock and it felt wonderful.   His eyes rolled back in his head at this new, exalting feeling.  It was like pussy, only different.  None of his canine conquests had ever been able to do this for him.

Velma let out a strangled squall when she suddenly found her mouth filled with doggy cock. She tried to draw back, but Scooby was having none of that. He'd just discovered how wonderful it felt to have his cock soaking in a girl's mouth and was not about to give up this new sensation. His large paws pressed firmly against the top of her head and another couple of inches of thick canine dick slipped between Velma's lips while the narrow tip tickled the back of her throat. The feeling was a contrast between revulsion and sublime lust.  

Velma had never given any of her partner's a blow job. It wasn't a case of distaste. It was simply never occurred to her or them. All of her previous lovers had been nerds, like herself.  The idea of oral sex may not have been in their experience.  They had both been so focused on getting his cock into her pussy that they had not indulged in any sort of foreplay. That was, if they could last long enough to get it out of their trousers (a few hadn't even lasted THAT long).  And as young cats in heat it hadn't really been needed.

Despite how uncomfortable and weird the whole thing was, it didn't even cross her mind to bite her canine partner. In fact,Velma took pains to ensure that her cat fangs didn't hurt Scooby.  She kept her jaws open maximally to this end and her drool ran down his shaft as well as dripped off her chin onto his balls.

Scooby's dong had an unusual taste to it, like nothing the young cat had tasted before.  Not really good, but not altogether unpleasant either.  Sort of a mixture between honey and bleach.  

At lenth she was able to syncronize her clitty massaging to the rythem of the cock plunging into the back of her throat.  This had the effect of making the whole experience more satisfying for her.

Scooby could feel the all-too familiar sensation of an approaching orgasm.  He liked the idea of squirting in Velma's throat, but he wanted the whole experience.  Roughly, he shoved her off his trembling cock with a large, meaty paw.  Velma resisted this, trying to lower her mouth back onto his doggie dong.  Scooby had to give her a shove that sent her halfway across the room.

The sudden tumble brought Velma back to her senses as she sprawled against a broken down side table. A feeling of shame filled her as she realized how lost in lust she had become. That feeling fled as she spotted Scooby advancing on her, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and the tip of his cock swaying pendulously just inches above the floor.  

"Jinkies. It's not just your body that is as big as a pony," she gasped. And then the realization suddenly hit her that Scooby had every intention of burying every inch of that massive canine cock into her barely used feline pussy. She rolled over on her belly and rose up onto her hands and feet and began to scramble away from the amourous hound. Scooby tackled her from behind, his forelimbs wrapping around her back and locked under her belly as he arched his back and thrust his cock between her legs. His body was a taut as a bowstring, all his muscles hard.  The nails of his hind paws dug deeply into the carpet for levaged. He made a single, cock-burying thrust, but missed her pussy and the head slid brutally across her belly.

Velma felt a sense of horror when she felt the tip of Scooby's cock brush over her navel, and keep going into the waistband of her skirt.. "No, Scooby. Bad dog! Down boy! It will never fit. Please, won't you let me finish you off with my mouth and hands?"

"Ruh uh," Scooby demurred as he hunched wildly against Velma, his furry thighs slapping against her ass while the thick shaft of his cock slid back and forth between the lips of her labia, driving her mad from the sensation and the filling her with the need to feel something inside her, even if it was a canine cock.

Velma wasn't the only frustrated one. The geometry on the cat girl was different from the bitches Scooby was used to servicing. But he'd done bitches of all species and sizes, and he quickly adjusted his position. He drew back till his cock was free and the tip was aimed at Velma's drooling cunt. With a loud gasping wuff and bared teeth, Scooby thrust forward and sank half his dick in one go into Velma's drooling pussy, and with that one shove exceeded in depth anything her previous lovers had managed. He also differed from the majority of Velma's previous lovers in that he didn't instantly spill his seed upon getting his cock wet in her pussy. Only the native tightness of her channel had kept him from going balls-deep with his first thrust.

"Jinkies!" Velma exclaimed in an yell that was equal parts pain, shock, and pleasure. She'd never been so full, or so excited. She was terrified of what would happen when Scooby decided to finish burying his bone, but despite that could not stop herself from thrusting backward at him as a primal need to be filled to the brim took her over.

Velma's quim was snugger than anything the dog had ever experienced and he had to concentrate to keep from shooting his wad immediately. Normal canine relations were very much wham bamm, thank you bitch. But Scooby enjoyed the act a whole lot and was smart enough to realize that he could make it last, with the end result being a whole lot more pleasurable than shooting off his wad after only five seconds. Plus, for the first time Scooby was thinking about the pleasure of his partner. He had always envied the fact that sentients males got to mount their females anytime the urge took them. Now he had one of those females himself, and was smart enough to figure out that if he made this feel good enough for her that he would end up blessed with an unlimited supply of hot cat-girl pussy. To forestall his orgasm he began to think of playing fetch as a puppy.

He began a slow, rhythmic plunging, each thrust taking him a little farther up her channel.  

"Aw, fuck me, Scooby!  Fuck me with that huge dog cock!" Velma bellowed, surprised to hear such earthy language in her own voice. Words that she had read in various steamy novels, but never had the boldness to repeat.

After what seemed an eternity Velma could feel the tip of Scooby's tool impacting her cervix.  She had never dreamed she'd ever feel this full. She'd never even known it was an option. Her puckered butt hole was making little kisses on Scooby's hard belly.  She strained to turn her head and meet his wide dangling tongue with her own much more dainty lingual digit.

By now Scooby had lost all conscious thought.  His glazed eyes stared into eternity.  He had been reduced to a fucking machine, his body responding to millennia-old dictates. His only goal now was to fill the female under him full of his seed, and then knot himself to her till there was no possibility that any other male's seed could supplant his.  It was pure Darwinism.  Survival of the best-fucking animal.

Velma sensed Scooby's approaching orgam, though how she had no idea. Maybe it was the fact that she could feel him swelling inside her and his thrusts were becoming more frantic, or maybe it was more of a cosmic sense than any tactile sensation, as if their minds and bodies had melded into one.  Like a Vulcan mind meld, but lower on the body. That appealed to the scientist in her.

  With one mighty thrust Scooby buried himself maximally in Velma's body. His body went rigid, every muscle flexed.  He threw his large head heavenward and let out a triumphant wolf-like undulating howl that seemed to vibrate the very walls of the room and rattle the windows.  Velma could feel his organ pulsating wildly in her vagina, spitting his seed deep into her womb.  Pulse after pulse.  It was more than her narrow channel could accommodate and the excess squired out from the seal of her labia on his cock, coating his churning nards with his own choad even as it pressurized her womb and gave her a feeling of being stuffed and swollen.

Velma's own body began to quiver.  Her legs shook as if they were made of jelly.  Fireworks seems to explode in her brain.  Her quiver clamped down hard on his organ, massaging it to force out every last bit of seed he had to offer.  A series of unearthly grunts and groans emanated from deep within her throat. She had never known sex could be so wonderful, so powerful, so engrossing It had always been a biological urge she needed to assuage so she could get back to focusing on the more important aspects of her life. While she didn't articulate the idea in anyway, even to herself, on some level she knew that she was going to get herself more, a whole lot more, of this doggy dick, no matter what it took.  She knew she would never be happy with a mere kitten cock again.

Scooby gave a gasp and his weight settled firmly down on top of Velma, causing his cock to press even deeper into her even as his knot swelled inside the entrance to Velma's pussy causing her to gasp as his hot flesh forced her tight tunnel to spread even wider than it already was. When the big dog made a motion to twist himself off of her body, Velma latched onto his forelegs and held him in place even as her ass twisted right and left as she screwed herself against his thickness.

Scooby was startled by his partner's actions, but his mouth soon fell open in a happy slobbery grin as Velma's tight flesh stimulated his hyper-sensitive flesh. He'd never known after sex could feel so good. Always before it had been a matter of waiting till the swelling went down and the two of them could go their separate ways. The more he learned about fucking cat-girls, the better it got.

At length, he cocked one leg over her haunches, and they were on all fours, ass to ass.  But he was still embedded deeply in her sex.  He leaned forward slightly and the action pulled her behind him.

 

Ohmygawd, thought Velma, we're stuck together!  She tried to pull forward, but that only pulled Scooby backwards. She tried to stand on rubbery legs, but that only lifted Scooby's hips.

 

  The Hellhound master leaned back in his chair pulling his pud like there was no tomorrow. He was still wearing the garish glowing mask that he had used to disguise his true identity. The flicker of the monitor in front of him showed Velma and Scooby, filmed by a micro camera he had hidden in the ceiling. He had thought it had been hot watching his specially trained dogs fuck those stuck up bitches who had made his life a hell when he'd gone to school with them.

That was nothing compared to watching one of them getting it on with her own pet. The only downside was that she'd never know it had happened because of him. He wiped his hand on his pants leg and reached over to shut the spigot of a metal tank marked "Formula BIH." His panty remover gas had proven a complete success. This latest video proved it  beyond any shadow of a doubt. Of course the formula didn't work on the canines, but that had only been a small problem easily surmounted. All it had taken was sneaking into their houses and dousing all their panties with a special concoction that mimicked the scent of a bitch in heat. The rest he had been able to leave to his dogs. Or at least up to this last time, when the silly bitch had brought her own guard dog along. He bet she'd been shocked as hell to find the dog she had counted on to protect her turning into her rapist.

  What a perfect scheme, he got his revenge on all the mean girls who had made his life hell, and proof positive that his invention worked. This would prove to his investors the success of his formula. If the stupid cunts weren't able to resist screwing a canine, how could they resist a virile cat-man wearing a body lotion with his special chemicals mixed in.  He was ready to go national. This would be bigger than Viagra.

With a groan of release, a tiny dollop of sperm shot out of his three inch dick and splattered all across Velma's image on the screen. "Feels like. . . victory," he groaned.

As if that were a sign, the door to his secret video lair suddenly crashed open and three bodies fell into the room.

"Good work, Shaggy. You've found it," Fred said with satisfaction, ignoring the groan from Daphne who had somehow ended up under the two males.

"Cool man. I've been looking for the kitchen, like, forever. I got the munchies something fierce," Shaggy said as he propped himself up on his arms to look around. "Hey, man. This ain't the kitchen," he said in a dejected voice.

Under Shaggy Daphne let out a little gasp as Shaggy's groin ground into her ass and she felt a bulge between her ass cheeks that made the cock between Fred's legs look like a cocktail weenie. Damn, no wonder Velma was always trying to get into the slacker's slacks. I may have to pay more attention to this burn out, she smiled to herself.

As usual, Fred was oblvious to the interaction between the other two members of his team. Instead he lunged across the room and took hold of the shocked Hellhound master by the collar and ripped the rubber mask off of his head while denouncing,  "Professor Walter White, I presume!" The surprised nerd tried to run, but almost fell on his face due to his pants being tangled around his ankles.

"Like, who?" Shaggy asked as he got to his feet.

"You  know, the chemistry nerd and dog breeder that we figured was the Hellhound Master," Fred explained.

"Your nefarious plans have come to naught, professor!" Fred announced pompously.  

"Yeah?  Well I would have gotten away with it, if not for you fuckin'kids!"

Daphne got to her feet behind Shaggy, rubbing her ass in reaction to the phantom sensation that Shaggy's dick grinding into her had left in the cleft of her shapely ass.

To distract herself from checking out Shaggy's bugle visually, Daphne looked around the room they were in, and spotted the activity on the video screen. "My goodness! Is that Velma and Scooby?"

Shaggy looked at the screen through blurry eyes, and said, "Geez, Scooby nailed another bitch. Better get a bucket of cold water, man."

Laughter on exit.