The deep blue and gold threads tickled my hooves as I glided across the plush, expansive rug that lay strewn over the dark, mahogany boards. Humming softly, I raised my arm, delighting in the crisp rasp of black wool as my duster flittered over leatherbound spines. Taking a step back from the shelves, I paused to look out the lead lined windows of the library. The sun was fast sinking beyond the forested hills, already the sky was fading from blue to purple and soon to a pitch black. The library was quiet at this hour, but then I suppose the library was always quiet. In the corner, a stone fireplace crackled, spitting up tiny embers to waft up the chimney. Squatting in the center, the master’s great desk lorded over the room. A massive block of raw oak and polished stone. Stacked high with papers, the ponderous desk scowled at me as I went about my task. Beside the desk, a large globe shone with the flickering orange of the firelight. Tugging the wrinkles from my knee-length skirt, I turned to resume my dusting, when a large shadow fell over the shelf before me. 

“My lord,” I cried, spinning around. My hand over my breast, I heaved a relieved sigh to see Duke Leonard. “You did give me such a start.”

The Duke smiled, his long, white fangs glistening in the glow of the firelight. His eyes, a deep, vibrant green seemed to smolder like living coals from the dusky, grey fur of his feline face. Twin ram’s horns erupted from his crown to curve around his pointed ears. He came closer and I could smell the sharp tang of alcohol on his breath. His feet caught on the rug and he staggered. His broad, strong hand shot out, slamming into the shelf beside my head with such force that several of the old tomes did fall to the floor. Seeing the books lying with their pages sprawled open, I gave a small cry and stooped to pick them up when his hand wrapped about my slender bicep. Dragging me upright, the Duke heaved me against the shelf. My duster fell from my nerveless fingers and my heart pounded against my ribs as the nobleman held me tight. He leaned close, his cheeks crimson from drink. His broad, powerful chest was encased in a loose white blouse of silk, which did little to conceal the swell of firm, hard muscle on his arms and shoulders. Despite my terror, I felt my nethers growing hot as his great body pressed into mine. 

“Jessica,” he whispered, his voice thick and dark. “Do you know why I hired you?” He tilted my chin up with one finger so that I was forced to gaze into those terrible emerald orbs. 

“M-My lord, I stammered. “I believe I was to be your maid.”

The Duke chuckled deep and low in his throat, a hearty laugh that was without mirth. “No, Jessica. I had something else in mind.”

My throat contracted, my breathing becoming difficult as his maw came close. I could feel his hot, wet breath on my lips as his mouth joined with mine. My long tail stuck out in shock as the Duke pressed me to the shelf, his mouth devouring me. My lips parted, allowing his probing tongue to slide in. Scouring my gums, he did rub the roof of my mouth until I could do nothing more than utter a low moan. My golden eyes closed as I became overcome with wanton desire. Like a common whore, my clawed fingers tore open his silk blouse to reveal his hard, furry pectorals, glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration. Duke Leonard tore his mouth from my lips so that I gave a cry of dismay, only to attack my slender throat. I let my head tilt back as I clung feverishly to his broad back. 

“Oh, my lord,” I groaned. “Surely, there are younger maids than I.”

The Duke stood back, his smoldering gaze locked to my own. “There are younger maids, yes. But Jessica, you are likened to fine wine.” He held up in his other hand a glass of dark, rich wine. 

Swirling it about, he then placed the glass to my lips and tipped the heady brew into my mouth. It tasted of sweet elderberry and the rich, earthy flavor of the forest floor in Autumn. I gulped the sweet poison, feeling my head growing light. My cheeks puffing, I sputtered as he poured the glass out. Dark, red fluid spurted from my lips to splash all over my maid’s uniform and seep down to soak my pendulous breasts. 

“My word,” said the Duke. “We cannot have you going about in filthy clothes like that.” 

He let the glass tumble the rug, where it fell on its side and rolled away. His great clawed fingers hooked into the neckline of my blouse and he pulled, shearing my clothing away like crepe paper to be discarded on the library floor. I squealed and wrapped my arms over my breasts, my cheeks flushing crimson. 

“My lord, what has come over you?” I cried. 

The Duke grinned and gripped my arms with such ferocity that my heart did leap into my throat. With a savage wrench, he tore my arms free, pinning them to the shelves behind us. My chest heaved rapidly, which only served to make my full, round breasts quiver. Duke Leonard let go of my wrist and placed his hand on my breast. I shuddered as his strong, terrible hand did cup my swollen flesh. His finger slid up, hooking into the clasp of my bra and unsnapped my undergarment. My massive orbs tumbled over my flat, brown belly, their nipples dark and puffy. 

“Magnificent,” he growled. 

His nimble hands played about my sensitive teat, eliciting tingles of pleasure to dance up my spine. His claws pried at the dark, bumpy areola, plucking the hard bud of flesh so that he could give my nipple a cruel, wonderful twist. I screamed as pain and pleasure mingled together, filling my brain with a warm ecstasy. 

“A-Ah, my lord,” I groaned. “Please, stop.”

“No, Jessica,” he growled. “I will not. I cannot.” He squeezed my breast hard, his fingers digging into the soft, quivering flesh so that I had to cry out. He pressed himself to me and I did feel his hard male sex swelling against my stomach. “I want you, Jessica. I have wanted you since I first saw you in the village. You were but a mere peasant’s daughter then.”

“My lord,” I whined. “This is unseemly.”

He ignored my fleeting protests, continuing to hold me tight. His muscles were like steel bands, hard and unyielding. I felt so weak and helpless in his hands and my anus did become hot and wet, growing slack with a desire that welled up in my belly. My heart pounded as I struggled against this powerful, handsome male. My ears drooped, for in my heart, I begged him to take me. 

“Jessica, I love you,” he roared. “I had to find a way to have you.” The drink had loosened his tongue, I thought. “I must have you tonight.” He gripped my hips, pulling me from the wall and then slamming me face first against the shelf. Several more books tumbled to the floor with a clatter. “Leave them to the others to clean up.” 

His hands tugged my underwear to my ankles so that my wide, fat ass was laid bare. His fingers then slid down my sleek thighs, tangling themselves in the thick fur of my legs. I licked my lips and let my head fall against the shelf as he traced his finger down the cleft of my spine, around the base of my tail until he reached the V between my buttocks. His hand lifted away my tail so that my cheeks were opened to him. 

“I want this,” he whispered. “I want you to bear my child.”

Instantly, my ears pricked up. “My lor--”

“Leo,” he said. “Call me Leo.”

“Leo,” I said the name aloud. “Please, if you are going to do this.” I grabbed my cheek and spread myself wide, revealing my dark button. “Then take me fiercely.”

Fiercely, he did. His claws dug into my hips as he opened his trousers. His long, male member rose up proudly. A throbbing rod of slick, crimson flesh, a bead of dew shimmering at the tip. How I yearned for that vermillion shaft. His tip nudged my tight anus, pressing against my ring until I gave a shudder. Thrusting hard, he tore open the gates of my core, ramming himself deep into my tight, wet crevasse. Tears streaked down my cheeks as his hard, cruel spear did jam itself into my quivering prostate. Then, his pubic bone grinding into my fat ass, he began to rub at the tiny gland until my pathetic cock was hard as steel. Precum spurted from my tip, puddling onto the floor, seeping into the carpet in a dark, shameful stain. My belly swelled, growing full with the Duke’s manhood so that I groaned whorishly and gripped the shelves until I left little scratches behind on the rich wood. His cock was bumpy with the barbed flesh of a feline as he plunged, with every pump growing deeper. He then pulled back slowly, his rough member rubbing against my smooth rectum so that I shuddered and collapsed against the bookshelf. 

“O-Oh, my lord,” I groaned. 

He then pushed back hard, slamming into my trembling prostate so that my voice rose into a shriek. 

“Ah, my lord! A-Ah, ah, ah, yes…”

“Call me by my name,” he grunted. “Please, my love.”

“Ah, Leo,” I screamed. “Ah… Ahh…. Aaahh!”

His hand slid under my thigh, lifting my leg up so that I fell back against his strong chest. His cock rammed up into my stomach as he quickened his pace. 

“Yes,” I cried. “Oh, yes. More, please more.”

Then, he pulled himself from me. He twirled me about in his strong hands, pinning me against his broad, warm chest. My fingers spread over the thick, soft fur, feeling the hard muscle beneath. I lowered my head against his chest, to nuzzle his fur, drinking deeply of his musky odor.

“Leo,” I pleaded. “Please, do not tease me so. You cannot stir me to such dizzying heights, only to torment me with such an abrupt finish.”

His body trembled with a quaking laugh. “No, Jessica,” he replied. His hand came, stroking my cheek. “I merely wish to make you more comfortable.”

Scooping me into his arms as if I were no more than a kitten, he carried me towards the fireplace. Gently, he placed me upon the rug so that I lay upon my back, my golden eyes deep molten pools in the firelight. Leo knelt over me, his crimson rod reflecting the glow of the fire. His fingers traced down my forehead, closing my eyes as they just touched, enough for my delicate lids to flutter. He stopped to run two fingers along my full lips and I did kiss those wonderful digits, delighting in their salty taste. Then, my lover tenderly laid his fingers down my cheeks and the curve of my throat, questing ever further to play with my ripe breast. 

“So soft,” he said. “I yearn to see them bigger still, full of milk.”

“But I am not pregnant,” I said softly.

“Not yet,” came the Duke’s reply, filling me with a gladness in my heart. 

I raised my legs high and parted my smooth, soft thighs to receive him. Leo lowered himself, crushing me with his solid, heavy body. My hands came up to his chest, traveling the rippling path of his stomach muscles until I did lay my hands on his throbbing cock. So hot! It was like a bar of molten steel in my grasp. Desire burned like a furnace within me, I could take no more. I seized his trousers and yanked his pants down past his narrow hips. The Duke grinned and slipped from his clothes, his firm thighs, sleek and powerful in the light of the dying fire. Sweat pooled between my wobbling breasts as I took up his swollen manhood. My fingers curling about that dreaded blade, I did stroke the tender scarlet flesh, coaxing his weapon from its sheath. Leo groaned and bared his white fangs, plunging his hot face into the cleft of my bosom. With his erect cock in my hand I wrapped my legs around his waist. Carefully, I guided him into me, as he gently placed a hand to my hip. He raised his head and his lips met my own. I parted my jaws to greedily suck his tongue into my mouth. A moan escaped through my nose as I savored the rich taste of his mouth. The scent of musk and sweat, coupled with the deep amber of his cologne tingled in my nostrils, carrying me to new plateaus of swirling ecstasy. 

His penis entered me and I let my lips open wide to moan as he thrust deep. 

“Mah… Ngh, Leo,” I groaned. 

Gone was the hot lust, to be replaced with a slow, passionate burn. Like a fine bourbon, dark and silky, a taste to be taken slowly and sipped quietly. Such was our love. His hips moved with a methodical, purposeful rhythm. Slowly, he pushed into me. My rectum quickly swelled, filling itself with his throbbing manhood. My belly lurched as I grew full and I could not contain the desire to groan. I wrapped my arms about his thick neck, pulling him close, smothering his sweaty face between my heaving breasts. My anus closed around him with a warm, wet suction, molding itself to him so that we became in that excruciating moment, one being. Leo groaned against the moist tightness of my quivering ring. My hands ran down the smooth contours of this back to clasp his firm buttocks. My heart leapt as his ass tensed with every blessed pump.

“Nya, Leo,” I sighed. “A-Ah, Leo please.”

He pulled back, my body giving way in a delicious agony that grew into a trembling ecstasy as he pushed back in. Leo lifted his hips, stirring my innards and bringing me to a frothing boil. My hooves came up and the Duke was quick to seize my legs, pinning them to my ears. Tendons raised on his powerful hands, he sat up, his muscles showing in stark relief in the firelight. Now, he became harder, faster. His body crashed into mine, filling the library with the slap of raw meat. My hands stretched over the rug, fingers numbly foundling the plush fibers as every muscle tensed in sweet, sweet torture. 

“I want you to have my baby,” he groaned. “Say yes, Jessica.”

“O-Oh, yes,” I cried. “Yes, Leo.”

His pace became a rhythmic pounding. My belly ached with his powerful manhood as I let myself go. 

“Oh… A-Ah… Okay, that’s enough for tonight.”

[center]***[/center]

I closed the book on the glass counter and placed my hands on my wide, gravid hips. “Well,” I said out loud. “I think that one is a keeper.” 

Fanning my face with a clawed hand, I picked up the worn paperback and examined the cover. On the front of the dog-eared tome was a pair of catvines, one male in a dark suit and a female clad in an elegant gown of purple silk. 

“Heir to the Duke,” I said, gazing at the gold filigree of the title. “Part three of the Dukes of Rheingold Series.” I raised a brow. “Why is always a Duke in these stories? Why not a Count?” I sat the book back down and stuck a finger to my lip. “Hmm, Countess Ammah. I like that. Oh, but Duchess does have a certain ring to it, yes?” I flourished a hand and bellowed out over the empty store. “Ammah, Duchess of Rheingold. Yes, I could do that.” 

I gave my tail a flick and picked up the book, absently thumbing through the yellowed pages. Someone had marked up the title page with pencil, the scribbles having become smudged and illegible. It was one of those tawdry romance novels one found in the grocery store, right next to the magazine rack. Still, I shrugged, it served its purpose. I bit my lower lip, my face broadening into a wide grin. Yes, it had served its purpose very well indeed. Chuckling softly, I slid around the counter and shuffled back towards the rows of shelves. My milk heavy bosom strained against the lavender button-down blouse I wore, the last few buttons left undone to allow my ripe, brown middle to distend outward. My navel was a mound on my belly, long having given up the fight with my fetal girth. About my wide, round hips was a simple denim skirt that hung down to my knees. The material strained to contain my fat, ample ass, which even now shook and swayed with every step as I crossed the room. My hooves, painted a lovely shade of violet, tapped on the thin carpet. 

“These books always make it sound so easy,” I grunted. I thrust my hand into my aching lower back and frowned. “Yeah, it’s all flowers and kisses. No one tells you about the weight gain, the morning sickness, the swelling ankles.” I took an abrupt turn down one aisle and paused before a small open space on the shelf. “The stretch marks, oh lord, the stretch marks. My poor breasts are so veiny now.” My ears drooped to my shoulders. “Ugh, and I’ll never lose the weight, I just know it.” My heart having sunk to my hooves, I slid the book back in place and trudged back to the front where the clock was striking eight. 

“Oh,” I turned my gaze up at the neon emblazoned face. “It’s closing time.”

Keys jingling in my hand, I made my way to the front door. Before I set the lock, I turned the sign off, signalling that I was closed for the night. Suddenly, my ears swiveled up. Something was scratching on the glass. I quickly turned, but saw only the barren sidewalk. I pushed open the door and stepped outside. 

“Hello,” I called. “Was someone here?” 

Nothing.

I closed the door and began fiddling with my keys when it came again. A soft scratching, followed by a tap on the glass. I froze up, not daring to turn my gaze to the door. My heart thudded in my chest. Was it a robber? I had heard reports of some recent break ins, but surely, what would they want with a dingy used-bookstore? An icy tendril of fear gripped my spine. What if it was me they wanted? My thoughts flew to the image of a large, burly criminal smashing his way into the shop. His rough hands, calloused and dirty, would take me, forcing me to the floor. He would tear away my clothes, gloating at how weak and helpless I was. My face would grow hot in shame before he then ravaged me with his strong, hard… What am I thinking!? This was real life Ammah. I shook my head, clearing the dirty thoughts from my brain. 

The scratching resumed and I forced myself to look up at the door. Steeling myself, I reached for the knob, preparing to pull the door closed and lock it when suddenly, a thing leapt for me. I tumbled back, letting out a high shriek. It was a hideous, bloated monstrosity. Its belly was massive and round as it pressed up against the glass. Long, tawny arms spread themselves over the door as a long, hard tube of flesh protruded up like a great horn. The beast’s awful mouth was stretched wide, its drooling tongue slathering dripping saliva to ooze down my nice, clean door. The creature moaned, scratching at the glass with its terrible claws as I picked myself up from the floor and scowled. 

“Hello, Fereya,” I said. 

Outside, the troll leaned heavily on the front of my door, her fuchsia eyes like two orbs of witchfire in the evening gloom. From the folds of her plaid skirt, her long, purplish cock stood erect, rubbing against the cool glass. My ears flattened as I turned my gaze towards her member. I just washed that window this morning, I thought grumpily. Now, a slimy trail of her dew was coating the clear glass. 

“Ruurrr,” she moaned. “I’m a killer and I’m horny. Rarrrr.”

I beetled my brows and ran my tongue along the front of my teeth before reaching out to turn the lock. 

“Raarrr--Hey!” she suddenly stepped back when she heard the lock click. “Did you just lock the door?” 

Fereya stood there, her cock still thrust skyward like a fleshy spear beneath her pregnant belly. She was wearing her black tee shirt and I knew she must have just come from work at the coffee shop. 

She reached out, trying the knob with a slender hand. Finding the door would not budge, she gave a small laugh. “Okay Ammah, you win. Come on, open up.”

I crossed my arms and remained motionless. Fereya was becoming more insistent now. She tugged furiously at the door, but alas, it would not open. 

“O-Okay, Ammah,” she stammered. “This isn’t funny anymore. Now open the door.” When I did not move, she began to pound on the glass with her fist. “Ammah! Ammah, open up. I can’t fit this back under my skirt.” She indicated her swollen cock. “Come on, don’t leave me out here. Sweat prickled her fur and her eyes were wild with panic. “Eeee! Ammah, someone’s coming. P-Please, I’m sorry.”

When tears started to form in her eyes, I unlocked the door. Fereya flung herself into the shop and slumped, her hands on her knees. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that,” she growled as I locked the door once more.

Seeing the troll glaring at me, I shrugged and brought one hoof up behind me so that I stood on one leg. “I’m just precocious is all.”

“I’ll show you precocious,” she snapped and threw herself at me.

Furry fists pummeled my flabby chest as she fell into my arms. Our lips locked in a simple kiss that made her tail curl behind her. 

“So,” I said. “You got the stuff?”

Fereya grinned, her septum ring flickering like gold fire in the evening light. From the backpack slung over her shoulder, she produced a large bag of chips, two boxes of candy and of course, a massive bottle of root beer. 

“Will such humble fare please you, my lord?” she asked. 

My black lips curled up. “It does indeed, my lady. Come, we must away to the festivities.” 

Packing our treats back in her bag, I took her by the hand and together, we ascended the stairs to my apartment nestled above the shop. It was hardly a castle, but it served me well enough. I flicked on the lights and Fereya flopped onto the sofa in front of the television. She overturned the bag and spilled the contents onto the coffee table, while I fetched a pair of cups. 

“So, what is it tonight?” she asked, sitting back into the cushions. 

“Oh,” I replied, coming back into the living room. “I was thinking of something classic. How’s about a marathon of Tuesday the Fifteenth?”

The troll’s eyes sparkled. “Oho! A most fine choice, though I would have suggested the Babysitter Massacre series.”

I sat down heavily in the seat beside her and held out a cup. “Naw, I like the series, don’t get me wrong, but Tuesday the Fifteenth just has a certain, visceral appeal to it.”

Fereya chuckled and unscrewed the cap on the root beer. Letting the fizzing syrupy liquid pour into my glass, she said, “So, what about Bad Dream on Oak Road?”

My ears twitched. “Damn, I forgot that one. I haven’t seen those in years.”

“Never much cared for the remake,” the troll said. 

“Never do,” I replied. 

We raised our glasses high in toast to bad remakes and I thumbed the remote. The screen flared to life, spilling grainy, 80s quality video over my carpet. Glancing over at the troll sitting beside me, I quickly noticed her erect shaft was still thrusting up into the air. The purple flesh glistened softly from the glow of the television and I soon found myself licking my lips as my eyes grew wider. 

“So, you going to put that away?” I said, snapping myself out of my lustful reverie. 

Fereya offered a playful grin and ran her finger seductively down the twitching shaft. “I thought I’d leave it out in case you felt peckish later.”

“I think you mean, [i]peckerish[/i].” 

Fereya clapped a hand to her lips, but not before a torrent of soda spurted from her mouth. 

Shaking her dripping, sticky fingers, she let out a guffaw and tumbled back in the cushions. “Honestly, Ammah,” she cackled. “I don’t know how your jokes can be that terrible and still be funny.”

I could only shrug in reply. 

Sipping my drink, I sat back and crossed my plump thighs beneath my gravid belly, unaware that danger was fast looming behind me. Fereya yawned and placed her head on my shoulder as a dark, menacing shape came up behind us. A furry maw split into a wide smirk to reveal long, white fangs while two silver eyes glared down at my unsuspecting neck. Fleshy pink claws came up from the shadows, nimble fingers wiggling in the pale glow of the television. 

On screen, the killer rushed his victim, a young counselor. The girl let loose a terrified shriek as the hockey-masked murderer bashed through the flimsy door of the rickety old cabin. But behind me, my attacker was bracing to pounce and just as the killer set his talons on the girl, so too did my assailant attack.

