<Countryside Ride 2>

Carson's clouded gaze seemed to sober up just a bit at this.  "Shorry for what?"

The wine-covered woman looked at her half-empty glass and swirled the red wine in it for a long moment.  "Shorry... I'm-" she started, clearing her throat briefly.  "I'm [i]sorry[/i] for... being so childish for so long.  It was shameful to me, you, and the pack as a whole... and to this day I still feel awful about it all."

"Shweetheart..." Carson echoed sadly.

Dorothea raised a hand and shook her head, lifting herself off the bar, her dress still barely hooked by her elbows.  "N-no!  No... I need to get this off my chest, please, daddy.  I never thought I would reach this point in my life, to be able to have a whole family again.  I've been... happy... so very happy over the last year; a feeling I had entirely forgotten before then.  Warren II, while certainly a handful, has been such a wonder to add to our pack, and... and I think I want another baby."

Carson remained quiet for a long moment as he looked his beautiful daughter in the eye, and one hand tenderly reached out to cup her right cheek in the process.  "Dorothea, my Dora... please, do not apologize, nor act as if the fault was yours alone," he returned, fighting back his own drunkenness to answer her in earnest.  "I do not fault you for your actions, nor did I think they were childish in any form.  I am so sorry for what happened, and for pushing you away as I did... but at the end of the day, we must understand that that accident is long past us, and that I am far more focused on making the most of our days in the present."  A small smile grew upon the man's bearded face.  "So... so long as you do not feel the obligation of another child -as in, having one is not an apology, rather it is an earnest desire- then, well... who am I to deny you?"

In a sudden blur of motion, the human Dorothea leapt across the bar to fling her arms around her father's shoulders, sending a shower of happy, drunken kisses all over her father's face, not unlike an overexcited dog might with its owner.  "Daddy...!" she gasped cheerfully between kisses, but she was far too excited to form proper words.

Carson stood his ground as the full force of his bottom-heavy daughter crashed into him, and the man's arms shot around her to catch her before she could bowl him over.  He could only laugh before one of her kisses locked his lips to hers, and with a rumbling groan into her lips, Carson stood upright, allowing his daughter to wrap her legs around his waist tightly.  Her ankles locked behind his back, and her flowing, wine-stained dress fell back to her waist and exposed much of her bare, shapely legs.  The added motion had likewise caused the top of her dress to drift further, allowing both of her nipples to peer out from the neckline of the fabric.  Their areolae had grown during her pregnancy, and their skin had flushed several shades darker to appear almost red in color.  Her father's eye dared to slide open through their passionate kiss, and all it took was a downward glance at her beauty to stoke the alcohol-laced fires within him.  "Dora," he gasped quietly as their kiss broke.  "I have one last surprise for you before we go too far.  Come," he rumbled, his hands moving to plant themselves under her bare thighs, then slowly slid up beneath her dress to find two, perfect handfuls of her bare, extra-wide backside.

Dorothea practically purred in delight at her father's touch, and even more excitement sparked in her gaze as he began to walk, easily carrying her with him.  Her head turned to look behind her, realizing he was taking them toward a set of hidden stairs in the far reaches of the barn, which in turn led them down into a secret cellar beneath the beautiful barn.  A single candle hung from a chain at the room's center, illuminating barrels and barrels of stored wine that lined the walls, as well as a much smaller rack of individual bottles at the very back.  The most telling sign, however, was the cushioned layer of straw that looked freshly-placed upon the stone floor, and the clever rogue quickly understood that they weren't just there for the wine.  "Daddy... really...?"

Without warning, Carson released his grip on his daughter, causing her to fall upon the straw pile somewhat roughly, though it was plenty enough cushioning to keep her unharmed.  "I know how badly you have wanted this, baby girl... and you shall have it.  Speak only 'bone' should things go too far," he echoed ominously.  The silver-haired human didn't look all that intimidating in the dim light... until his single, green eye began to glow.

A sharp shock of thrilling desire rocketed up Dorothea's spine.  She could only lay on the straw and watch as Carson's human form was shrouded in smoke, and from within the cloud came the sounds of ripping and tearing clothing.  One clawed hand, then the other, shot out from the smoke, and as it began to dissipate, that glowing green eye was now staring down at her with the face of the silver-furred worgen she so dearly loved.  Apparently he'd decided not to wear his specially-enchanted clothes for this particular occasion, and the once-new shirt now hung in tatters from his broad torso.  His leggings had suffered a slightly lesser fate, and somehow a ripped triangle remained covering his heavy, furred balls and sheath beneath it... and it took all of Dorothea's willpower not to launch herself at him again right then and there.  This was exactly what she wanted, what she had always wanted from him, and she was about to get it.  "Daddy, no!" she cried in almost exaggerated fashion as she threw her arms up in front of her.

But the vicious worgen outright ignored her pleas.

A guttural rumble left his chest as he launched himself onto his daughter, his clawed hands leading the way as he viciously tore through her wine-drenched sundress, sending the fabric over her chest flying across the room in tatters.  More and more of her pale skin became exposed to the cool cellar air, and while she tried to flail her arms against him, his powerful grip latched onto her wrists and slammed them into the straw below, pinning her powerfully beneath him.  His snarling maw washed heated breath over her face as he hissed, "Down, bitch!" then dared to let go of her wrists, only to sink his claws into the waist of her remaining dress skirt.

"No daddy, stop, please!" she cried out, forcing back her giddiness as she suddenly tried to claw herself out of his reach.  With a bit of thrashing, Dorothea was able to flop over onto her belly and scramble a foot or two from him, though his embedded claws left a trail of thin scratches down her hips and thighs, while simultaneously pulling her skirt right off of her, exposing her bare backside to his lustful gaze.  Her gorgeous backside bore a number of wrinkles with her age, and much of it was a dark tan hue, save for a pale arrow-like patch that pointed downward from her waist to the center of her cheeks.  Even her upper back bore a thin, white, half-H marking over her shoulders and across her back:  The trademark signs of bikini use under the sun.

For a moment, Dorothea actually thought she could escape... until those sharp claws came right back down onto her bare ass in a double-handed spank, their tips latching onto her hips without warning.  A reflexive scream fled her lungs as she was yanked backwards viciously, the male worgen pulling her ass upward until it bumped squarely into his sheath... and she quickly realized it was no longer covered.  Her heart was beating out of her chest as she dared to look back at him with fearful eyes, only to see that bright red, delicious cock throbbing upward between the cheeks of her ass.  "Oh we're [i]far[/i] past that... it's time you learned some manners!" the worgen roared, one hand shooting out to latch onto the back of her head before shoving it fiercely into the straw, while the other groped and squeezed the left cheek of her ass, spreading it wide as his canine cock pushed itself down against her most sensitive bits.
