FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Skål

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

17th July, 2019

All Rights Reserved.

Henriette peered from beneath the mottled grey hood at the young naive Red Deer Stag that grazed in the clearing. He was young, oh so very young – only the smallest of nobs on his head, indicating the antlers that would one day grace his head – if he'd never met this young Whitetail.

His fate was sealed, yet Henriette's ears, poking through the slits in the hood, twitched slightly, before they flattened in misery. Her muzzle stripe twitched as she focused her attention, the young Whitetail anthromorph trying to find it in her heart to do what must be done.

Barely breathing, she drew breath through her nostrils, then held it a moment, so the foggy exhalation would be greatly reduced. She did not want to prolong this inner battle any more than it had to be....

She despised preying on the forest creatures, but the need was great, and the cause was just. One life taken, honoured and cherished for its sacrifice, so others may live in turn. Such was the way of the Great Wheel, so must it ever be as it turned.

In her pale paw, she held a bow, the arrow nocked, but the string loose. A thick leather bracer tied to the inside of the wrist and forearm to protect her fur from the bowstring.

Bracing herself, she carefully raised the bow and arrow, before pulling the string in one swift stroke, feeling the bow bend and the tautness making her fingers twitch as they held the arrow just behind the fletching.

Unmindful, the young Red stag grazed peacefully, completely oblivious that his fate was about to be sealed...

Henriette's paw twitched, as one eyelid closed, the other narrowing as she sighted along the nocked arrow. Inhaling slowly through her nostrils, she held the breath and then exhaled, forcing herself to calmness, both within and without.

Forgive me little one...

Henriette's fingers released and the bowstring snapped back, the arrow flying true...

*

Returning to the crude log cottage, Henriette placed the dressed carcass on the trestle table and shuddered. Untying the bracers from her wrists, she set them aside and began scrubbing her wrists and paws clean.

Taking off the mottled cloak, she ran her pale paws down the thin corset that clung to her lithe form like a second skin. Her waist down to the ankles was covered in a pair of crude trousers, also of the green, brown and black mottling, which helped her blend into the woodlands like camouflage.

As her cloven hooves were covered with a thin but strong moulded leather boot, Henriette began unwinding the strapping which bound it around her ankle and pulled them off. Flexing her ankles, she stood up and placed one hoof on the stump they used to cut their firewood, then stretched herself out.

Hooflets stretched along the leg to the ankle as he held this akward pose for a dozen heartbeats as she felt muscles stretch out. With the other leg, she repeated the same movement, until her furred legs trembled and she squatted experimentally before standing back up, assured everything was working as it should be.

Shaking herself, Henriette began unlacing the corset, her delicate fingers unfastening the strands before she sighed in relief as she took it off, feeling the sweaty fur beneath. With her fingers she lightly trailed her palms over her small, perky breasts and nodded in satisfaction before unfastening her trouser drawstring and letting them slide down her legs before stepping out of them.

Freed of the confining clothing, she flexed herself left and right, bending in almost unnatural ways, as her teardrop like tail flagged in relief and happiness. Glancing around, her ears twitched too and fro as her nostrils scented the air. Satisfied, she walked a few paces away and then her form just shimmered...

In less time than it took to think of it, where the anthromorph had been but a moment ago, now stood a feral Whitetail Doe. It shuddered from ears to tail, before dancing around on her small, dainty cloven hooves in happiness and pleasure. With a joyous squeal, she took off into the woods that surrounded the cottage.

*

Kristian returned to the cottage, the human dressed simply in a loose tunic. He paused, seeing the discarded bow, quiver and clothing, before chuckling to himself and picking it up. As he moved towards the cottage, he noticed the fresh carcass laying on the table.

"Thoughtful of Henriette – to provide sustenance for me tonight. Roast venison it is!" He smiled and ran a rough calloused hand over the blond hair that covered his head. "Now, where'd that young Doe get too..."

He put her clothes and weapons away, coming back out with a hand axe, before he started butchering the carcass in preparation for dinner that night. He knew she hated it – having to hunt and kill creatures – but she was good at it, her natural instincts and woodland knowledge meaning her hunts were often more successful than his own.

Maybe it was because of the creature that shared his body – could animals sense it? Smell it maybe? That snarling, vicious predator that longed for battle – to taste the blood and flesh of its enemies – sometimes even its own allies? Kristian wasn't sure – he was flat out remembering his former life, a warrior in the clan..barely blooded in battle...

He'd fought bravely, welcoming the beserker like rage and blood-lust that fuelled him – sword and axe slicing and flashing, the screams of the dying – those brave warriors who died in battle – surely the Valkyries were watching the fight and those who died, if they'd proven themselves, would be taken to Valhalla! To fight on the glorious fields of battle – and feast, drink and boast with the God's that night!

He paused, his hands shaking and a low, dangerous growl coming from his throat before he managed to suppress the Wolf within him. It craved battle, the smell, the adrenaline – the blood and screams -

"Stop it!" Kristen snarled, clenching his fists as he fought for control.

This close to the full moon, it was a battle he'd endured for a decade. It was what had driven him into exile.

He'd been – turned – fighting a wolf in the forest one day, it'd killed his friends, hunters all, and been grievously wounded itself. As he shaped off against the bleeding, irrational and feral wolf, his own anger rivalling that of the savagery it showed – they were at an impasse. Neither would give ground – could – give ground, so aggressive and dominant were they. He'd move, the wolf would counter move – they'd been at it all day and into the night – locked in this titanic battle of wills.

Finally, weak from blood loss, the wolf broke and rushed towards him – jaws wide and saliva flying, intent on ending the battle. Kristen had been young, impulsive and filled with the wrath of the beserker as he gripped his hand axe cross-ways and jammed it between the wolfs slavering jaws. He was overconfident – thinking that'd stop the wolf...

He was wrong...

It took the wolf all of about two heartbeats to snap the haft in half, before his crushing weight and claws sank into the foolish human, knocking him flat to the ground. There was a flash of pain, rage, anger that boiled up within him, as he sank his dagger into the wolf's ribs – right as it sank its teeth into his throat...then nothingness...

*

He had thought he'd won, when he swam reluctantly back to consciousness, the dead wolf lying on him. He'd shovelled it off him, rising unsteadily on his feet, mindful but ignorant of the blood that welled from the slashes and bites. Beating his chest with a roar that would surely challenge Fenrir himself, Kristen asserted himself as the warrior – the strongest of the clan – worthy of honour and praise...

Indeed, that'd happened, he'd be lauded and slapped on the back and drank and feasted until he thought he'd surely burst. He'd be honoured, the wolf's skin turned into a helm and cloak he wore with pride and humility – all the time – never knowing what he was becoming...

*

His memories were shattered, as he felt a warm nose pressed against his scarred back under the tunic. He dropped the knife and turned about, to see the Whitetail look past him at the corpse he'd been dismembering, before she shuddered and he smiled, then lifted her head up to gaze into her dark, soulful eyes.

"Where were you little Doe?" he asked, caressing her cheeks and feeling the sticky juices. "Off gorging yourself on those raspberries?"

With a tail flick, Henriette tried looking all innocent, her black tipped ears pricked forwards.

"Now, now, that won't work on me – you know it!" Kristen chuckled as he crouched down, then wrapped his strong arms around her and lifted her off her hooves.

Henriette bleated in mock fear, but she knew her lovers strength – and he barely grunted as he lifted her up and carried her into their shared cottage. Here, the fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, as he carried her across to the crude bed that was covered with furs.

Henriette's eyes widened and she started flagging her tail, as he grunted and lay her down on her back, then held her there with his large, calloused hand on her chest. Her tail flagging increased, as he shed the rough tunic and stood before her, naked and imposing – his impressive length throbbing and already dribbling.

"You've been a naughty doe, now you need to be punished!" He growled at Henriette, who squealed and struggled beneath his hold.

Holding himself steady, he moved closer and slid her hind legs either side of his hips. Using his fingertips he pushed her long, bushy tail down and gripped himself – before guiding it against her wet, trembling folds. Henriette loved him – in every way that mattered – especially when he felt the urges that burned so passionately within him. He eased forwards, grunting as he began to mount her. Just pushing the head of his length into her, sent Henriette's mind whirling as her vaginal walls squeezed and relaxed at this large, firm member that pushed them apart.

"Naughty...don't – do that - " Kristen grunted as he pushed harder, sliding himself halfway inside her.

Just mate me already! Henriette's mind moaned in lust, her tail flagging wildly.

"Patience little one..." He grunted, as he pushed forwards again, then felt the firming walls gripping him tight like a glove. "Almost..."

He shuddered and grinned down at her, before Henriette took a breath and he pressed forwards, driving the last of himself into her tight depths – almost pressing the penile head against her very womb opening. Beneath him, Henriette moaned and squealed helplessly, lost in the pleasure.

Henriette's lower belly bulged outwards with each eager thrust that he started to give her. His hand held her flat on the bed, as he began eagerly mating with her, pulling himself back then plowing back into her again. His free hand pressed against her udder and began massaging her teats and udder. Henriette's squeals and bleating only encouraged him as he started thrusting like the wild, hungry beast he was.

For nearly thirty minutes, he mated Henriette, her bleats and grunts as he dismounted and thrust again and again were like music to his ears. Her belly bulged outwards every time, until he began to pant and grunt.

No...not yet my love... Henriette's mind wanted to scream in lust and pleasure.

"I..." He began, sweat soaking his body, before both hands gripped her around the hind thighs and he grunted, his powerful ejaculation spurting its hot, sticky seed deep into her womb and filling her.

Henriette bleated wildly, her tail thrashing against his scrotum as he bucked and lost himself in the pleasure, pulse after pulse flooding her young body and warming her better than any fireplace could. At last, he gasped and slumped down onto her, panting and shaking as Henriette shuddered, exhausted and pleasured by their almost bestial lovemaking.

"Damn it doe - " he muttered, his breath hot against her left ear. "You always – get me so quickly!"

Henriette licked his salty cheek, flagging her tail against his thighs in love and appreciation. Sure, she knew what he was – he'd turned her after all – but she loved him, and he loved her. She knew he would be ready to go again in moments – one thing about sharing his body with the beast – it had an almost insatiable appetite for mating – one she was more than happy to fulfil to his desires.

Not only that, by mating with him, it kept the beast calm and restful, which was preferable to letting it take him. Sure, he could be violent and even outright cruel at times – but that was who he was. She knew her human wasn't some delicate flower – he had the blood of his ancestors, and from what stories she had heard from him? Well, they weren't exactly the kindest humans in the woods!

Squeezing his still impressively firm length, feeling his semen within her womb and vaginal passage aiding and easing the ache she felt in her body; she pushed the pain away, It hurt when he took her – she couldn't deny that, he wasn't a Stag – and she'd had her share of them over the years....

Unwillingly... Her mind reminded her. They know what you are now...

Shuddering, Henriette tried to push that thought away. It made her sad when she thought these thoughts, the sounds of the Stag, his terrified scent, his struggles as she took what he offered her...

Stop it! Henriette demanded of her mind, feeling her own beast stirring within her, seeking its violent release and the urge to hunt, to pursue and to kill...

Above her, Kristen grunted and with the lupine blood surging through him, he swiftly rose back to full erection within her again. Henriette's mind reeled, as he grinned and began thrusting within her eagerly and forcefully, his hips smacking against hers with a feral intensity.

Bleating in both pain and pleasure, Henriette submit to the strong male – her body eagerly milking him as he thrust and grunted within her, each sharp slap against her groin making his scrotum thump against her groin.

Bleating, Henriette's heart thudded in her chest, her body quivering and shaking, as he grunted and thrust harder, knowing what was coming – or should he say – who was coming...

"Good girl..go on, you deserve it..." He encouraged her, taking her muzzle between his rough hands, gazing into her eyes and he thrust harder.

Wildly, Henriette began panting, then her eyes widened as he pressed his pale lips against hers as he thrust once, hard and deep, her bleating muffled as he pulled her head up and his tongue flickered and mingled with hers as she bucked wildly beneath him in her cervine orgasm. So strong were the muscular contractions, he gasped and eyes bulged as it felt like she'd crush his penis.

Her orgasm ravaged her, tore at her and destroyed her – there was no other words for it – her muscular contractions of her pelvic muscles spurting her own fluids and his semen out her vagina and over his thighs. He chuckled, before her sticky tail swatted at his testicles, then he grunted and humped her five times in fast succession, before another orgasm crushed sentience from her mind and he grunted – his semen flooding her willing, receptive womb and passage again as he kept her lips locked against his.

Finally, when she was barely conscious, eyes wide and as he lifted his head, her muzzle hung open and her tongue lolled from her muzzle, he looked down at her as she panted and squirmed beneath him.

"My gorgeous little prey..." He snickered. "You think you're broken and submitting to me now?"

Henriette's eyes widened even further, as she drew a ragged breath, so overwhelmed she was barely conscious, her mind reeling as she seen the glint of golden eyes wash over his sky blue ones.

"No, my little doe...you haven't submitted yet...the human may have mated you, pleasured you and broken you...but the Wolf in me...knows what you really want, and is happy to give it to you..many, many times..." Come that other voice, as he grinned and his sky blue eyes turned a bright gold – the wolf ascendant.

END