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For those not in the know, I sometimes play Liquorice as owning a humongous sex-shop called Midnight Heat, an establishment gained by dubious means.\n\nAnyway, poor Fairglen's tied up in the basement these days, taking loads for cash and waiting for her next whiff of sweaty dog-nuts. Hope you guys enjoy!\n\nAs a side note, I'd love some feedback as to your favourite scenes or posts, so I can get some dirty art commissioned of the story.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "I happened to be introduced to a rather lovely mare some time back, and this is the dirty scenario we got up to. For those not in the know, I sometimes play Liquorice as owning a humongous sex-shop called Midnight Heat, an establishment gained by dubious means.

Anyway, poor Fairglen's tied up in the basement these days, taking loads for cash and waiting for her next whiff of sweaty dog-nuts. Hope you guys enjoy!

As a side note, I'd love some feedback as to your favourite scenes or posts, so I can get some dirty art commissioned of the story.", "writing": "Fairglen Anatra strolls into the seedy little shop, having been egged on by that silly little anorexic rabbit, the tigress, and the butch Doberman to prove just how hot she thinks she is. What proof she's supposed to produce, Fairglen doesn't know. Her friends are only slightly smarter than she is. Wrapped in her white jacket with a matching, small purse dangling off her arm, teal tank top, and soft, pastel green skirt, her hooves clop across the door jamb as she enters. Those violet eyes scan the room, looking for something that's liable to pop out of its pants at the sight of her. Barring that, a dyke. Either one works. She doesn't have the \"looking for love\" expression, being so goaded into it. If nothing else, she can turn the charm on when she gets her target. And while she looks for a viable partner, the lean, if curvy, mare hunts for a replacement for the dildo she finally wore out. \n\nMidnight heat is something of a cornucopia of sexual produce. The walls are lined with dildos, vibrators and sexual aids of every shape, colour, texture and size. There are lengths of flopping silicon that look like arms, complex red vibrators with flashing LEDs and parts that hum as they rotate, and rows of dark buttplugs that seem to range from a gentle tickle to a full on reaming. There are shelves of pornography of every media imaginable, male masturbators, scented oils and glow-in-the-dark lube bottles. The cashier also appears to be balls-deep inside of a lusty customer, a cheetah girl with her shorts hanging off her ankles and her tiny little blouse tugged open - a few of the buttons that had held it together laying across the floor in front of her - tits pressed over the creaking wooden table. \"Ooohh! Fuck.. You feel that?\" Groans the dog leaning over her, cupping her chin and kissing her spotted cheek. \"Feel it? Draining me off inside you, good girl.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra tried to ignore it, but then, it's hard to get that far into the dildos without noticing what else is going on in the store. The pale, glossy blond filly stops in her tracks and turns, stepping gently over to the row where they are. She can't help but look at the two in their rut. Specifically, her eyes are boring into the place where their hips meet, catching teasing glimpses of the cock wedging its feline plaything open between the mutual movement of their tails. She came in to do just that, in a way, but she ends up jealous - outdone, and she licks her lips as she sneaks up on them. \"Just a sniff...\" is what she tells herself, wanting to know what the cashier smells like up close in combination with horny, slutty cheetah.\n\nLiquorice Black was pumping out the hot, rich aroma of fresh dog seed. It's spicy, earthy, and gives a potent slap to the sinuses as soon as twitching mare nostrils come in range, filling her head with that musky scent. The fuckmeat's barely visible from between their tied bodies, but every now and then the cashier tugs her hips back and shows off the thin root of meat that leads off to her buried knot. The wedge of meat does a grand job at keeping torrents of juicy, potent seed inside the feline. There was no indication that the girl bent over worked at the store, and by the collection of filled plastic bags off to one side, it looked as though she might just have been a customer. Now she'd be a customer leaving the store with dog spunk trickling down her thighs, the feline taken by her own predator species in public. A few others were watching the scene unfold, but there were obviously those that were either now used to the sight, or who felt the need to avert their gaze. Yellow eyes turn towards the new customer as she lays out, breasts to the cheetah's back, cheek on her shoulder-blades. \"Can I help you?\" She starts. \".. I'll just be a moment, finishing up here, aren't I?\" The girl gives a whimper in response, pushing her bottom back in a soft whudd of meeting bodies.\n\nFairglen Anatra tries to take a bite out of the air, utterly unable to stop herself from it. She's trying to devour the scent of the cashier's cum mixed with the more subtle, very overpowered scent of cheetah pussy. Fairglen is practically on her knees, as far as she's leaning over. It's unlike anything she's every smelled before. That is, she's smelled fine male musk before, but a certain edge to this practically deactivates her brain in favour of dedicating more space to seeking sex. She wants it - to roll in it, if possible. Before she knows it, a couple whuffing nostrils are nuzzling under the soft indigo tail, seeking out the balls from which the scent must originate. And then, right then, is when the words she actually heard register in the sentient sections of her mind. Her head jerks back and she falters, doing her best to remain poised after a few steps backward. She shakes her head, sniffing down her nose as if to rid it of an itch. \"Yes...finishing. Need help finding...something.\" She murmurs, rubbing her eyes. The buzzing between her ears won't stop.\n\nLiquorice Black gasped out, that little tickle driving her mad. There was another empty puss that needed filling, and she was wasting time buried in the girl she boned twice a week, bare, in return for a packet of condoms she'd later use on her steady boyfriend. Those shaggy testicles were beaded with sweat, and the single inhalation the poor filly had taken would send a number of those clear dots of moisture shooting up into her sinuses - the beads soaking into the sensitive flesh to be smelled for hours to come. If anything, that hot scent was even more overpowering than the pearly cum she was flushing the feline with - greasy dog fur mixed with the wet slime of her sheath and the sweat that poured from her genitals. If the mare could handle that dizzying scent, well, she'd have a treat in store. Liquorice braces her hands out against the poor cheetah's back, and tugs herself free with a wet pop - a sudden torrent of thick, dangling fuckseed pouring to the floor, laddering the girl's spotted thighs, springy and steaming hot. Liquorice stands to one side, facing the crouching ball-sniffer as her erect penis drools with her load. \"What is it?\" She asks, making to reach for a cloth, but catching herself before she lays hands on it.\n\nFairglen Anatra thinks for a few short moments, trying to stand as she does. Her legs wobble a couple inches up, and she's back down on the floor again. Her hand comes up, index finger at her chin. \"I need...umm...I need...\" She fumbles over her words and what remains of her thoughts with that scent harassing her ability to think. It speaks of virility, of strength, of dominance, of something deep inside her that wants that scent for some reason. Her bet and her urges meet, and she makes a decision that's not totally based on the practicality of winning her wager. \"I need that. Right now.\" She brings her finger down to point at the oozing, glistening cock. Her words aren't exactly thought-out, but then, she's not interested in thinking about it so much as doing...something with it.\n\nLiquorice Black gives the spotted bottom next to her a firm swat. The Cheetah tugs her skirt down, steps out of her underwear, and steps away quickly, presumably to return home and give her boyfriend a bunch of sloppy-seconds with her newly purchased latex cockholders. The canine's attention is diverted, watching her totter out and track semen across the floor like a trail of breadcrumbs, a few white dots marking her path out of the shop. She seizes her drooling length of fuckmeat in a padded palm, waving it threateningly at the girl before her, causing a few lazy droplets to surface and spiral towards the floor. \"You need this? You need my cock?\" She asks. \"Where do you need it, little girl? It's all spent up, and likely to go back into its hidey-hole unless someone makes it warm and cozy again.\" fingertips pinch at her drooling cock tip, getting a thick wad of sperm clinging between forefinger and thumb, mashing it around. \"You better hurry.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra drops her purse, practically falling all over herself as her eyes go wide. The pupil responses are extraordinary, and the pair of them might make an interesting physiological reaction study if anyone could every sustain funding for such a thing. Fairglen almost snaps at the fingers, lips closing on them to vacuum off the stray seed in a couple seconds before practically diving for the dangling rod between her legs. She gets a full half of the length in her mouth, nose filling with that familiar musk as her mouth seethes with the flavour of fresh cheetah and seed. She cares not where the cat thing had been, only where the cock is going. It's almost comparable to rabies as fervently as she goes after it, head immediately starting to bob with the speed and steady dedication of a gear-driven sex toy from the videos in aisle 5. She doesn't think to use her hands, or really bother, sitting there, sucking as her mane frames the gorgeous equine fiend's face nicely. That picture would sell.\n\nLiquorice Black was already throbbing and jumping around the girl's wonderful mouth within a few moments of sinking inside, her cum vein throbbing fiercely to dump a few hot wads of precum across the back of her throat, sliding out in thick ropes of coat the back of her tongue. She rarely gets such an eager mouth bobbing over her crotch like this and she relishes the chance - cupping both paws to the back of her pretty blonde head, humping forward to bury herself inside. If the cocksucker was unfamiliar with the finer points of deepthroat then she'd be getting a crash course in it right now. The fuckmeat slides down into her gullet, grazing all the rippled points of flesh that usually sent girl's gag reflexes going. A finely timed dart of precum manages to splash in such a way that it sluices up into her sinuses - draping over sensitive olfactory sensors, staining every struggling breath with her hot, musky scent. \"Mmh! Fuck...suck it, slut!\" She encourages, bucking forward to crush blunt equine muzzle against her dark crotch.\n\nFairglen Anatra swallowed the precum she was given, sucking for more until she starts to get yanked down into a field of indigo fur. That mouth has seen its share of cocks, and so has her throat. She's not thinking about deepthroating, though. It's more like an active urge to simply have it in her mouth and to slurp up whatever she findd. When it pushes into her throat, the reflex goes full bore, only suppressed when she feels it in the back of her mind. It's a trained response, and it keeps her from returning the precious pre-seed she already had. Instead, her throat muscles cinch up nicely around the intruding masculine pole. She's not just sucking and holding her own with the shaft fucking her throat, she pushes back the sheath on her way down to snuffle directly into that expanse of fur. Her tongue slips forward, dipping into the spots the herm's sheath hides, getting a fresh, enthralling taste of slick, pure musk. As she's yanked to and fro, her kisses repeat, acting as though she's laying teasing smooches on some dyke's mons just as easily as having her throat be a pleasant hole to screw.\n\nLiquorice Black is oh-so-eager to deliver a hot, sloppy throatfuck now that she's confident the mare can swallow cock. Fingers sink into the blonde's locks, tugging sharply with the grip and using her scalp as a handle. She allows the girl a few seconds with her jaw spread wide, mouth kissing over the funkiest sections of dark, veiny cockmeat, the slime from inner sheath glossing her kissing lips, sweat from her crotch glistening over buried nostrils - her shaggy pubes glistening with the fucksauce the Cheetah had deposited against her, a mix of sperm and feline arousal. Then, those beautiful lips were torn away from her root, right till customers could hear the sloppy sound of her throat getting its first taste of fresh air for a full minute before forcing her back down - cramming throat with her drooling meat, slamming her cheeks, tongue and pouting lips down the lower three inches of her throbbing dickmast. \"Rrrrhh! Oh man! You a freakin' porn star, or do you just suck a lot of sweaty dick, bitch?!\"\n\nFairglen Anatra is actually eager to do that exact same thing, once it's obvious that's what's occurring - what's going to get those same seed producers to giver her a load of her own. Something under that pretty blonde scalp asks if a throat fuck counts as seduction. That thought vanishes when she gets a fresh coating of mixed bodily fluids smeared all over her nose. The flavour, that unreal, body-wracking flavour under her sheath, makes Fairglen suck with an abrupt pressure each time she has the length in her throat to do it. Once she has a spare moment, or even enough room around the cock to reply, she offers the fastest, best way to get her partner's seed spewing into her body that she can think of. \"Lots.\" It's a single, simple word, and it's followed by the sound of her having her throat refilled with an accompanying sound effect not unlike any of her other orifices when being well and truly fucked.\n\nLiquorice Black yanks that delicious throat from her twitching, bobbing fuckpole, letting the drooping meat flick streamers of cum against the filly's muzzle, painting her short fur, linking tresses of displaced blonde and tan together, drooling over her hungry cocksucker's lips. \"Fuck.. You ever done cream pie before, hon'? I'm about ready to fuckin' blow my wad, and I'd hate to miss out!\" Yeah, so that was her one weakness. No matter how much a girl might beg for a dick down her throat, or a fat load squirting under her tail, Liquorice would always take a deep, comforting tie if it was on offer. The number of girls that walked out of her shop (and her pad) with blue canine hybrids growing in their tummies was immeasurable, some kept them on, some didn't, but few refused this humble little request. She'd test to see whether or not the dickhungry slut kneeling in front of her would be one of those open-minded girls, or if she'd squeal for a condom first.\n\nFairglen Anatra hits the equivalent of the wrong way spikes on a parking lot exit ramp. Much like her gag suppression training, she had the need for protection drilled in very, very deeply. Business contracts got held up for months or given away because of unprotected sex, and she's been doing it long enough to be able to fight through the sexual haze to get back to her regularly scheduled program, if only for a second. She gasps, looking up at the herm. \"Condom.\" She nods rapidly, standing up. \"Condom first, then just give it to me.\" She says it, however, like a zombie, walking past the owner of that dark black fuckmeat as she lifts up that light green skirt, revealing the electric pink thong beneath it. It's all stretching weave, no elastic to speak of, and it's so lewdly slim as to let her dark-chocolate-hued mare cunt to peak out the sides. The mare takes the cheetah's position, tail up, and waits the small eternity for the fulfillment she came in for. Wait, it was a bet, right? No, definitely fulfillment. The musk says so.\n\nLiquorice Black is dripping at the sight of such beautifully pouting lips beckoning her forth, steely meat pointing to the ceiling and tapping her toned tummy, soaking over her sheath with rivulets of pre. A few more customers stop to watch now, as the cocky new customer who simply waltzed in and took a whiff of the owner's sweaty sack bends herself over in less than fifteen minutes, showing off her wet lips. Liquorice makes a point of reaching over with one hand to grab a jumbo-sized latex sheath from the counter, ripping it open for effect. She holds the limp ring of rubber in one hand, as the other digs between chocolate lips and retrieves the flimsy band of saturated material, peeling it off to nestle in the shallow valley between wet fucklips and juicy thigh-meat. The latex tip gets positioned across her pointed spire, and rubbed through steaming folds one or twice - even unraveling inside the mare as she spears two or three inches inside.. Yeah, like that was ever gonna happen. She discreetly drops the sagging condom by her feet, and stabs home again - bare, but barely distinguishable from the ultra thin barrier she'd worn seconds before, sinking three... six...eight...ten inches of tensing meat into her cunt - not even a sliver of protection to her leaking fuckspire, no barrier between her wriggling sperm and the mare's hot, accommodating womb. The puppy hisses, hilting up, cramming herself in entirely.\n\nFairglen Anatra reacts like an amusing animatronic display. The further Liq's ebon puppy dispenser makes its way into her steaming hot marecunt, the more her mouth opens, eyes partially shutting by way of her cheeks raising. Her voice is the same way, the moans only getting louder as the throbbing column of meat goes deeper into her body. Silken, drenched walls cling to its pre-lubed surface. Once the cock is all the way in, the result is academic. She was worked up watching the owner fuck that cheetah slut. She was practically begging for it when it was in her throat. Now, the first, hard thrust kindly shoves her headfirst into an orgasm. Tight as she is, her sex isn't as good as her throat. It's far, far better. Without the obstructions of her teeth or the bend at the back or the annoying need to breathe and a lot more body heat to work with, it's no wonder she's been around. During heat, she could probably call in aircraft by spreading her legs on the tarmac. What's more, the tender walls clench and writhe with a determined purpose that the reflexes in her throat lacked - designed for getting the most possible out of whatever lucky set of balls had its attached injector inside her at the moment she came.\n\nLiquorice Black doesn't think she's even had such a juicy little pussy over her counter, and such an accommodating one too! Normally her fucks at work would whine and fidget as the blue canid crammed them full of her pulsing fucklength, stabbing over their baby-makers with the taper of her dick, roughly prodding at sensitive cervical flesh. This girl was built for stallion cock though, and by the way she groaned out, it was clear she'd only sampled colts in their younger years - that slimy little passage wrapped like a tight glove around the swells and curves of canine penis. \"Rrrhhff!\" She growled, planting her breasts over poor Fairglen's shoulder blades, grabbing her shoulders tightly to pull herself closer, and mash her spit-damp sheath fur against the mare's pouting lips, giving a few hard thrusts whilst still buried achingly deep to work her rubbery knotmeat over. \"Fffuck...E-ever fucked with a dog before?\" She groaned, biting possessively at the membrane of an ear, tugging it between her incisors. \"Been knotted? I hear it's a real thrill for first-timers!\"\n\nFairglen Anatra is too busy moaning and panting to shut her fool mouth. It's the most common sentiment, how tight she is for a mare, and one that seems so incredibly easy at that. \"Nnhgh! I-I nneverrr had a dog before.\" She pants, feeling nothing but hot, pulsing pleasure throughout every bit of her velvety cockbox. The way the herm mounts her, holding her in place by her shoulders and laying on her, only makes her hotter in every way imaginable. \"Nn-nn-knot me.\" She whimpers, followed with the quiet murmur of a loose thought slipping out of her brain. \"...whatever that means.\" Agreeable as she is, her fertile furnace suddenly squeezes down hard, making her moan as her face rubs and squirms against the table. Her juices trickle out around her and off her clit, matting her soft fur and spattering the floor. Her labia practically grab at the ebon fuckrod, trying to pull it in further on base muscle power.\n\nLiquorice Black almost hops one leg off the floor in her bid to squeeze all of her thick, pulsing meat into this wet cunny before her. Hips undulate erratically, making her deep, bitch-taming thrusts oddly spaced - a few rapid taps followed by a deep jab and a long pull out, cooling the hot mareslime that had formed around the body of her dick, making Fair's insides seem all the more hotter once she plunged inside again, clapping her heavy seed-filled sacks over the subtle curve of pussylips below. The heat of her balls was easily felt each time she nestled inside, the fat marbles resting against trim brown pubic fur, tensing, throbbing, even jumping as they unloaded endless squirts of precum into her 'condom'. The wet slurp of unprotected sex was obvious - but could that be because the mare was just so dripping wet that she was making sounds, or was that condom brimming with liquid, squirting its payload out around the rear of the canine's dick? She teases, crams her dick in deep and swirls it around with adjustments to her hips, probing at the depth of this tight cunt's creamy passage before finally slipping into a steady pace, clapping mare butt with her hips twice a second. \"Nnh...louder. Beg for my knot, and you can take it, kid!\"\n\nFairglen Anatra wouldn't even begin to know how much liquid she had inside of her. All she sensed, in the basest part of her brain, was that it wasn't enough. The rest of her consciousness, however, rests assured that the condom, stretched amazingly thin on the herm's cock, will keep the worst from happening. \"Please,\" She speaks up, making it practically an intercom alert for the entire first floor. \"Please knot me! I want it! I want to know what it feels like!\" She finally admits her ignorance, in truth being so full of her own flowing juices and precum from the hard fucking that its first way out is around the tapered obelisk pummeling her hot, accommodating snatch. It's a little rainstorm between their legs, soaking the panties the cheetah abandoned on the ground with new scents and flavours.\n\nLiquorice Black could feel that lightening of her heavy nuts as she continued to batter the mare's wet cunt. Her thick, veiny meat making her drenched pink ring and dark fucklips pout and spread, even kiss at the forming bulk of her knot as it rammed inside, a pronounced hump that only grew thicker and hotter with each passing second. Normally, she liked working herself up and ramming it inside to claim a fresh girl like Fairglen, but this was going to be even more satisfying. Before she knew it, her fat breeding bulb had grown too large to pull out, and with a tug of her hips, it locked in place, stretching her spread lips.. \"Oooohh! T.-there! N-now just wait, honey....\" She growled, mashing hips against that plush rear end, grinding her tensing, jumping rod deep inside. This deep, her spearhead was neatly wedged in the round ring of cervical flesh, nestled inside. Was it the hot, bulging condom that was making her insides feel so hot and full? Was it swelling and pushing out a wet plug of barely contained liquid trapped inside latex? No, no! She'd feel it eventually, even if it took a minute or two - the canine was contentedly hosing her womb down with virile torrents of baby batter, painting her nice, clean pink walls white! \"Nnhh..\"\n\nFairglen Anatra started to orgasm when the knot locked into place. It was...big. Amazingly big, and hot to boot. It's more full than she's ever felt, and she's very aware, as the new foundation under every bit of pleasure, every hot squeeze, rippling through her sweet, inborn cock holster, that she can't get it out now. The realization that something so complete, so utterly claimant of her body existed put her over the edge, and she practically sobs, or so the moans sound when she squeals in the throes of her orgasm. Midway through the first wave of milking spasms, a moan goes from \"Uhn!\" to Uhnh?\" as she feels that flowing seed as it fills her up like a fine hot-rod at the pump. Halfway in ecstasy and halfway scared to death, she pulls herself along the table, but can't get past the paws on her shoulders, keeping her in place. Despite that, she was already assuming, for some reason, that she'd get away from the girthy rod seeding her fertile, helpless womb, and her legs came up, spread, as if they were under the table as well. It all only serves to make her look sluttier, tail still raised. After about twenty seconds of fighting, the second, chained orgasm hits and she's floored. Everything goes limp again while her nethers do an internal victory dance and her head flops against the table with a thump, tongue lolling out onto the varnished wood.\n\nLiquorice Black had done this hundreds of times, but there was nothing quite like jamming a swimming pool of white doggy sperm into an unwilling womb, knowing that her aggressive baby-makers would be driving their way into the mare's eggs even as they laid there in a perfect mating position - hell, she'd probably been knocked up from the first watery jets of seed-laden precum she'd fired up into that pristine box! \"Ssh...Shh.....Just settle down. Unless you want me to split you in two, you're gonna have to just take it now. I can't pull out. Takes about..\" She ponders for effect, licking over the girl's neck as she draws out her final count. \"Like.. Twenty, thirty minutes?\" Clearly the cheetah girl had been bent over the warm desk for some time before Fairglen came-a-snuffling, that or she was a regular customer, acclimatised to the herm's massive fuck-knot. \"Mmmh.. Feels good, doesn't it slut?\" She coos, testing to see how this stranger would react to being called a name, hands on her shoulders scooping around forcibly to take big mitts full of titflesh, squeezing and tugging at them.\n\nFairglen Anatra never felt seed flow into her body before. That is, she never felt it coming into her uterus before. Her ass had been used nicely, and her mouth had feasted on the thick goo before, but it never slipped, not once And twitching little mare that she is, she's in no position to keep fighting. All that happens is her ears flick up to the herm dog's voice. Though a bit muffled, it all comes through cleanly. A small whining, plaintive cry comes from the back of her throat, not really audible over the general murmur of the store. It's really the only complain she manages, and judging by her reaction, her body is more than happy to accept a litter from the complete stranger. After a couple deep breaths to get some air back in her lungs, she speaks in the midst of another moan. \"Yes. Yess~! It feels incredible.\" A long huff that just barely escapes being a full-on, feral whinny spaces her words. \"I love it.\"\n\nLiquorice Black brushes her cool nose against the licked-wet neck, nuzzling in as her jaws open. The canine taking a generous bite of loose scruff to pull and tug at, piercing her skin just a little bit. Perhaps it would be humiliating for most canines to sink back to traditions that their feral counterparts tended to use, but there was something very base and satisfying about chewing on a freshly bred bitch's neck, making her hurt as seed oozed into the fertile womb beyond. Her hips roll, tugging at the rear of her knot, making dark lips slurp and stretch around her huge, locked-up bulb. Yeah, there was no chance it was going anywhere soon, not without a crowbar or split lips. Teeth gently left the mare's neck, the canine resting her head against her cock holder's shoulder blades, kneading at beautiful mare-tits through her shirt. \"Mmh, I could get used to this...\" She complimented - amused by the shocked look one of her customers was giving. Was that...was that one of the girls that had dared Fairglen into the store?\n\nFairglen Anatra clenches her teeth at the sharp, sudden pain, but there's too much post and mid-orgasmic numbness to keep actually get the real thrust, so to speak, of her teeth. She'll definitely feel it later, and the wound already throbs with the same pulse as her hot little whitewashed cavern. Fair, as oblivious as any drug-riddled whore, doesn't notice the well-dressed tigress looking through the crowd. The musk had done its job. The presumptuous filly is drifting in and out of consciousness, with the non-blacked out portions being crammed with unremorseful pleasure. The steady amusement her tits provide keep that slit twitching like a surprised guinea pig, giving another lusty squeeze just when you thought she might be done. Her friend holds her hands up in front of her mouth, crying out to the purple thing mating with her friend. \"What did you do to her?!\" She cries, as if it was a bad thing, almost forgetting about the fact she lost the bet.\n\nLiquorice Black reaches back beneath the junction of their genitals, taking a few beads of sweat, and a few hanging ropes of semen between her forefinger and thumb as she had done earlier. \"I bred her. Why - you want to be in her position next?\" That hand extends out towards the tigress, yet another sub-species she hadn't already had the pleasure of giving a bundle of puppies to. Wet, glistening spunk hangs from her fingertips, and just before the dangling line looks as though it's going to break, her digits move to smear the liquid into poor Fairglen's nostrils, wiggling around inside to smother her with the clinging mixture. What with the sweat in her nose, the precum in her sinuses, and the glistening load around her nostrils, the mare would have a hard time smelling anything else for some days, perhaps even a full week if she didn't find a way to cleanse her skin properly. Liquorice stands up slightly, tugging the filly by her tits so she's at least leaning up off the table. \"Show this chick your tits.\" She demands, giving hanging orbs a gentle squeeze, before sliding her paws away and stroking her lower back over.\n\nFairglen Anatra is somewhere over the moon, her nose telling her she's absolutely obedient to the creature mating with her. Her slippery marecunt tells her much the same thing, and she finally plants her feet, ass still pushed out against the purple pup's crotch. She pulls her jacket and shirt off over her head, tossing them onto the table so her tits are easily seen, perky and stiff as they are. \"Fairglen!\" The tigress shouts, waving a paw in front of the mare's face. \"Stop it! You're going to get cut from the shoot! Are you seriously letting this happen?\" The mare, blinking a few times at her, twists her head over her shoulder, and peers at her sire-to-be, then at the tiger girl. \"Why should I? This is perfect.\" She says in a smooth purr. \"Ooh, more cum.\" The silly, dense thing bends over further onto her hands and knees, pulling the knot along for the ride, and starts to lick at the cum the cheetah let out of her puss on her way out. She crawls along, on spot at a time, licking with reckless abandon. The tigress looks like she's about to puke, which is probably a familiar feeling in her line of work. \"Ohmygod.\"\n\nLiquorice Black doesn't like the slut's she's buried in taking her for a ride. That was her job! As soon as she's planted on the floor, and slurping up a particularly thick wad of dogsperm, she plants a big blue mitt to the back of the mare's head and holds her down - other paw grabbing her tail and wrenching it back. She tugs, shifts, and finally pops her fat fuck knot free with an audible slurp, that hot, bare pussy dripping semen from its gaping hole, making more mess for the girl to suck up. \"She's having fun, kid. Don't ruin it for her.\" Liquorice sneers, raising one side of her lip to the tigress. What a stuck up bitch. She lifts her foot and rests it against the filly's skull, pushing her down hard against a steaming cumstain. \"Don't miss any.\" She reminds her, reinforcing her self-appointed task. \"Else I'll ream your asshole, too.\"\n\nNot that that's some sort of disincentive in her state, no, but it is, however, not her pussy. She can't have that. The mare takes the rough, painful force in stride, assuming the thrumming in her head is a side effect of such a powerful orgasm combined with so much seed in her body. Her sex steadily closes, offering a brief, enlightening view of her off-white insides. Truly, the pink deeper in is next to impossible to find. Her walls are literally coated twice over with active dog cum, and her cervix snapped shut when the tip left it, trapping her ovum in with millions upon millions upon millions of potential mates. Fair goes further than simply licking. Once she can't see any more to lap up, she presses her lips to the floor and sucks just to make sure she got it all. She turns around, looking for what just spilled out of her, and immediately tends to it in the same fashion. The tigress pushes past multiple other patrons and runs right out the door, abandoning the vacuous vacuum to her pleasures. While she's sucking up the stain fresh from her steamy cunt, the tigress and two others poke their heads in, the former pointing at the mare. They don't come all the way in.\n\nLiquorice Black is morbidly curious about the life the mare had decided to leave behind, was she a good girl or a rebel? Did she do well in school, or was she a drop-out? Did she ever intend to buy one of those buzzing red vibrators, or simply come in to huff her shaggy testicles and get a cunt full of steaming doggy jism? None of it really mattered, she was slowly acclimatising the bent-over bitch to her new life - getting her to suck up sopping cumstains from between the legs of the various sluts who presented themselves throughout the day, servicing her fat herm dick when it wasn't buried between pouting pink lips, making sure her fuckstick's hard and dripping by kissing her sheath with that gorgeous mare-tongue.. Mmh, she stiffens up at the thought of it, wriggling toes into the blonde bimbo's hair, really mashing her muzzle into the carpet. Pup' looks towards the door with an inquiring raise of an eyebrow. \"You three going to come in, or are you just gonna let all the hot air out?\" Indeed the air was hot, hot and sticky, humid even and with the scent of sex thick in it.\n\nFairglen Anatra has the answers to all those questions, but she's in no real position to say anything. The filly offers no resistance to being stepped on and pushed into the carpet It only keeps her from lifting her head to between spots. The only signal she has is when she tastes the floor and nothing else. Then, she peers around with those hazy violet eyes and finds a new one to suck up. Her tail barely droops from the lack of attention given her cum-soaked puss, and, in fact, swishes about as though she were grazing in a field except the grass is actually delicious and smells like pure sex. The three jump a bit with a start, and they immediately flee without a word. The footfalls are slightly audible for a few seconds after the door closes back up, and the lot of them don't stop for a block before even considering talking about what the hell was going on in there. Fairglen's eyes glance up, however, and she spies those heavy, gorgeous balls. The sight brings her sex-inflamed mind to a white-hot, focused edge, and she whimpers, shuddering. She starts to push slightly against the herm's foot, mouth pursing like a gasping fish, wanting nothing more than to be up between those legs, inhaling that unbelievable scent.\n\nLiquorice Black recognises that longing look, the needy gaze of a cum addict. Sure, though her flared knotmeat still hadn't gone down, and her prick was steadily pumping rivulets of seed down the shaft and into her sheath-fur, the pooch had plenty more sloshing cum down in those pendulous balls for her to guzzle. She'd make her wait a little more though, rolling shoulder back as she pulls out a shallow drawer from the counter, rummaging through its contents with her fingers. Every now and then she flits her eyes back to the girl, helping her reposition to another hillock of seed untasted, attention split between the band of thin leather in her fingers now, and the girl beneath her foot. She eventually allows her up though, spreading her legs apart - resting her backside against the counter's inner edge. \"Come on then, take a taste. Be gentle. Love them. Worship 'em..\" She encourages, reaching down to cup the fat marbles in her palm. \"Make out with 'em like a prom date, slut.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra follows the directions she's given through forceful, hard oppression - the go-to example by any standard - of the foot on her head. The air-headed mare makes her way around the floor like a cross between a horse and a Roomba, using the reach of that powerful leg as a de facto leash. When the foot comes off her head, however, she immediately turns her eyes crotchward, ears turning forward to listen. Her eyes get wide, as if she just got that car for her birthday several years ago. As she gets up on her knees and takes a heady whiff, not an inch from the furred sac, she mutters an exultant, \"Thank you, so much.\" The second half is even muffled when she buries her nose against the pelt over those musky orbs. The way she inhales the head-turning odor is almost as if she's skipping the pleasantries and trying to lodge them in her nostrils, but she has orders to follow getting in the way of that. There's a gentle kiss between the heavy nuts, then her mouth opens wide, frenching them from the sides loudly. It says a lot about her prom dates, given how she pushes her face in, barely holding her breath, and sucks over half of that purple sac in at once along with one of the pup's balls.\n\nLiquorice Black shudders and, with her one hand, carefully peels back the neck of her dark, slimy sheath to reveal a stretch of glistening fuckmeat absolutely drenched in marecum and puppyjism, riding it over her muzzle as the girl happily drowns herself in the scent of wet dog. Thick, drippy bands of hot semen ride down the erect spire of her dick, occasionally hanging mid-shaft and dropping onto her face, messing up those delightful blonde-bimbo locks. \"Mmhff.. You're not gonna regret coming here tonight, chick. I'll make sure you've always got a dick to suck. Always. Fuck, some of the other customers here are already sprouting hardons for your sexy little creampied puss-No.. No, don't look around, fuckin' get to sucking my balls! Lick 'em, roll 'em around your mouth!\" She steadies the dizzy head with a hand, yanking the back of her hair, grinding nostrils into her glistening, funky pubic fur. \"Breath DEEP already. Let it fill you...\" There were at least six people watching now, standing in a semi-circle around the counter, some rubbing big bulges in their pants, one couple casually grinding against each other, what a /slut/ this girl was.\n\nFairglen Anatra used to have such a pleasant scent before she wandered into that seedy little shop. It was described by some takers as \"Exhilarating\" and \"without compare.\" The butch doberman that ran away in shock gave it two thumbs up the cunt. Now, she's absolutely dedicated, it seems, to smelling like the crotch of a perverted herm and looking like the same, in certain ways. The very same off-white jizz lays in drops and streamers about her pelt and hair. The preemptive hand to her head is right on the money, keeping her from hazily watching anything but the crotch she's worshiping. Luckily, it stops her before the hot ball escapes from her mouth, and she starts to glom at the drooping purple sac with renewed vigour. The other joins its twin in her mouth as she sucks on them like the finest of hard candy - her old favourite was peach. Her new favourite is oversexed, sweaty nads. Her cheeks bulge out blatantly around stones that can only be that big or larger for how much seed they put out per load. Just when it's almost too much, she leans her head up and starts to find a path through the loose fur and skin with her tongue, reaching for the slick, freshly-messed base of her cock - the part that stays out during the tie, and stays sheathed the longest.\n\nLiquorice Black rocks her head back; this girl was a brilliant cock sucker. She visualized waking up each morning to the sweet suckling sounds of a mare buried beneath her sheets, gobbling her sheath fur and tonguing buried dog bone. Claw tips sifted through thick blonde hair, scratching up across her scalp to leave flushed red lines in her skin, eventually retrieving her hand so she could take the other end of a leather strip in her fingers. It's smoothed out carefully, a wide dark-blue band of leather inlaid with a strip of black and a steel D-ring protruding from the front, begging for some manner of leash to be attached so that whoever wears it could be trailed along like a feral creature. This mare was going to wear her collar whether she liked it or not. The decision had simply been made for her. What with the huffing dark, squirming testicles in her mouth to suck over, it was pretty much a given that she'd be left addicted to the herm's heady musk. She loops it beneath the girl's neck, and wordlessly wraps it about her throat, pulling blond hair to the side so she can secure the buckle. As if nothing had happened, both hands lift away and start to pump and stroke her jumping fuckpole, milking beams of semen out into the girl's hair, marking her with even more scent. \"Deep breaths, hon'. Real deep - even if you start to feel dizzy, don't stop. I want you to smell nothing else.\" Hands no longer rested upon her head, testing to see if the filly would comply and drown herself in the glistening quagmire of spunky fur and crotch slime.\n\nFairglen Anatra tends to her duty, licking up flavours that only the truly brave dare to tread in and searching for more. In the world of her focus, two things existed: Her head and the crotch of some musky all-god thing that offered glorious favours to those who know the one true way. In this case, the way is paved with sticky dog spooge. The collar goes unnoticed save for the twist of her head it takes to put it on properly. Her orders are clear, and she presses her nose right up into the fur, moaning despite herself at the sheer strength of the musk. Her nostrils tickle the flesh as it mows a little path around, her teeth flossing with fine violet fur as her mouth shifts around those prized wild oats. The little filly's tongue comes back inside, returning to its service of lapping at her sac. In the process, parts start to go numb. She's so focused on sucking and inhaling more of that scent that she doesn't notice herself start to lean into the store's proprietor, legs giving. Then, shortly after, her arms go as well. It's only by the angle of her body propping up against the herm's crotch that Fairglen stays in place. Then, finally, her jaw goes slack, utterly starved of proper air, and those balls pop wetly from her mouth while she flops onto the floor, marked thoroughly and used, her thong still askew around her cum-spattered crotch and her skirt hiked up around her midriff.\n\nLiquorice Black sighs out as her newly claimed fuckpet simply slumps to the floor in a panting heap, a few customers staring on in horror as those chocolate coloured lips seem to fall from the herm's nut pouch in slow motion, leaving bands of hanging drool from their heavily worshiped pelt. She motions to one of the burlier looking men off in the corner of the store, a large draconian figure with teal scales, who drags the drippy dick-worshipper from under his boss's legs and hoops his arms around her torso, dragging her up. \"Take her to my room.\" She orders casually, bystanders largely confused as to who were staff in this sex store and who were claimed slaves. Did the herm hold enough power to make even seven foot tall scaled monsters submit to her whims? She looks down to her shining length, rubbing a few fingers through her nut fur, into her heated slit, casually masturbating as she turns and rings up a few purchases.\n\nThe dragon deposits sweet cream-stuffed mare onto a rather lavish bed, dark silk sheets with white pillowcases cover an incredibly soft and giving mattress, the duvet beneath feeling particularly plush. The rest of the room would appear blurry to the mare, no doubt, if she were to regain consciousness, but it seemed fairly minimal in design, a few shelves dotted with ornaments, a few gadgets on a desk and a number of sex toys lined up above the bed in a perspex cabinet too. Trudge, trudge, trudge.... Soft, padded footsteps, and then a soft click as Liquorice walks right past her laid-out prize and heads on in to the en suite to freshen up.\n\nFairglen Anatra has wonderful, wonderful dreams about the ideal life in steps that steadily simplify down over time. The first involves her waking up in a strange place, on a soft bed of hazy outline and design. She thinks it's purple. A quick trot to the shower, noting how her hands and hair seem to be sticky with cum from a late, enjoyable night. She steps into the shower, turns on the faucet, and the throbbing black shower-head soaks her body with hot, invigorating dog cum. The creamy spunk soaks her to the bone, gradually melting her down to a fine white puddle that slips into the drain and spills out in short order as one thick, flowing drop from the tip of the herm's cock. She flows down that turgid spire and finally drips off, clinging to the fur on her sac, staining it until some lucky slut gets to suck them, cleaning her from her little slice of heaven. It's in that moment the dreams dissipate and her eyes flutter open. The platinum-on-gold filly groans softly, looking around the room for something familiar and finding nothing. It's all a great haze to her, head still swimming from lingering musk that tries to consume her thoughts like, well, a dog with a bone. What does get through is the utterly sharp stench in her nostrils - sex and cum and more sex - that makes her wonder just what happened after she walked toward that sex shop.\n\nFairglen Anatra gingerly runs her hands up her body, taking inventory. Her shirt is gone, as is her bra, but her breasts are still very much there. Her mouth tastes like semen and some...other things. The semen is almost expected, though she's glances up at her hair, able to discern that she's had a rollicking good time even without being able to see straight. What she notices after that, however, is a certain happy, flowing warmth in her body. Specifically, it resonates from her uterus, and she gives her inner muscles a clench just to make sure. The little pleasurable twitch that fires off makes her body jerk and contort suddenly, but otherwise, she can feel nothing in those hot folds that makes her think she's anything less than a pregnancy risk at best and a raped mother of four-to-be at worst. She tries to sit up and crawl out of bed only to catch too much of the plush covers and flop onto her side like a junkie on her crash. The motivation to move is almost gone, and a hand touches that strange pressure on her neck. A collar? That clinks and jingles a bit? The reason is beyond those lazy synapses, currently.\n\nLiquorice Black hums to herself from the en suite. She loved mashing her unwashed crotch into that girl's nose, but sometimes she needed to indulge in a little personal hygiene just to keep things motoring along. Besides, what was the appeal of getting a scent-orientated slut to take a deep breath of your ball funk if they had nothing to contrast it against? She worked spicy smelling shower gel into her thick, saliva smothered fur, getting the smell of whore's spit out little by little. Pup began raking her fingers through thigh fur, caressing and cupping her breasts, working a digit into her sheath to get the meat and wet, fleshy insides just shy of an acceptable aroma. What was the point of it all when she was just going to get herself dirty again though? The tall, imposing figure stands at the doorway, her hair tied back into a damp ponytail, a navy-blue towel tied about her waist. \"Sleep well, slave?\" She asks, the corner of her lip turning up. Poor Fairglen would find it difficult to pace more than a few feet from the comfort of the bed, her collar appeared to have a D-Ring on its rear too, and from this trailed a length of cord, secured to the headrest of Liquorice's luxuriant bed. Already the dark sheets glistened with dog sperm, Fair's thighs absolutely soaked in the drippy white load after having spread it around.\n\nThe whole process of getting dirty again doesn't take too long to kick in, an inch of turgid dogmeat sticking from her sheath, pulsing with blood, dribbling slightly with a clear precum. The short rod of meat is smooth, veiny, and tapered to a thin tip from which her heady, aromatic liquid pours. It's also completely out of reach. Big mitts fall to her sheath, which sticks up out of her tied off towel, and gently start to massage it over, spreading the spice of her shower's scent.\n\nFairglen Anatra shakes her head, trying to make herself come to. The leash on her collar stops the next attempt she makes to climb off the bed, and this time she finally notices what's holding her there. Whatever that scent is, it has faded a bit. Though, admittedly, the herm's clean fragrance isn't free of distraction on its own. She scrambles about the bed a bit, eyes darting up and down the lovely indigo pup and occasionally trying to drift closed only to snap back open again. Since she's extremely tied up at the moment, Fair tries what she has left: Diplomacy. \"Umm, I think there's been a misunderstanding. See, my name is Fairglen, and I'm not sure how I got here, but I have work this afternoon.\" She speaks as though she's on the phone with someone who might have compassion for her plight. Not weepy, just...insistent. \"So, if you could take this leash off me, I'll just be...going.\" Her voice trails off, ceasing her tugging at the leash to frown and stare at her current roommate of sorts. \"...this is your cum, isn't it?\" She asks with the voice of someone who doesn't like already knowing the answer.\n\nLiquorice Black passes her unusually dark, glistening tongue over her lips. Stripped bare maremeat on her bed, already filled in her throat and belly with swimming sperm, her little soldiers no doubt already mounting continuous assaults on the poor teen's fertile eggs. The fact this girl's already shaken the haze of lust from her just won't do though. The slimy semen smeared around the circles of her nostrils, the hot precum wedged in the back of her sinuses, and the smell of a freshly seeded puss' would still be fairly strong, and would certainly overpower the sweet scene of shower gel - Liquorice cleverly ensuring that her scent would stick for some hours, or days if she could avoid the girl washing her face, without having to constantly re-apply her musky crotch to her face - that alone should keep her somewhat subdued. \"Fairglen?\" She repeats, smiling. \"That's a pretty name, but I don't think that's what I'll be calling you, no no....\" She shakes her head, crossing arms beneath her bare breasts, pursing her lips in thought. \"I'll call you... slut, or cunt, or fuckmeat.\" A slight pause, watching the girl struggle and shift around on sheets, the cord just short enough to ensure she'd always have at least one part of her on the bed, unless she was in to choking herself on her collar. \"Are you even aware of what you did today?\" She asked, that fat fuckmeat now flopping free, arching forwards, dripping. Maybe she could use the gap in her memory to an advantage?\n\nFairglen Anatra knows quite well what a pregnancy would mean to the rest of her life. Simply, her work would cease coming and her entire career would come to a screeching halt, to say nothing of what the process would do to her body, her reputation, and her attitude. She's not thinking about that just yet, however. \"Umm, no. I don't know what happened today.\" She admits, the sight of that drooling dogcock starting to really grab her attention. The buzz in her head was coming back like a thick fog rolling in over her thoughts, relentless in its suppression of her already-dim mind. \"Wha...\" She pauses, starting to crawl over to Liquorice, not quite on all fours. Her lower body slumps down, practically dragging herself like a mermaid across the covers. \"What happened? What...what do I call you?\" The musk around her face and in her nose already has a link to the curvaceous herm, establishing her dominance over the simple little filly. \"Wh....why do I have this on my neck?\" Her voice gets a bit weaker, not so much caring to tug at it. Her tail swishes from side to side, slightly matted by the seed in it while her breasts dangle beneath her, heavy and inviting. That cock, though. Her body. They're so enticing. So touchable. She licks her lips, catching a taste - familiar, and delicious. The mare snaps here eyes shut, then open again, forcing the cobwebs out of the way, looking around like she can't figure out if she's awake or asleep.\n\nLiquorice Black uncrosses her arms and walks towards her bed-side table, lifting a phone from its holster. She wags it in her hand as she speaks. \"Call me Mistress, Madame, Ma'am.. Anything that shows you have some respect for the person who collared you.\" Oh yeah, that was a collar. A collar which now had a padlock in its buckle to keep it shut - where the key might be located is a total mystery, and if asked the dog would admit that she didn't know either, probably in a landfill by now. Her other hand grabs the bloated tip of her dick and gives it a thorough rubbing, making her palm and fingers glisten with moisture, the sound of her palm pads rubbing over the slick tip very audible from this distance. She reaches forward, and cups her palm over the girl's muzzle, holding it tightly as she rocks her wrist and reapplies her hot musk, letting it drain into her senses once again. Get her craving it, get her acclimatised to that hot sting in her nostrils, get her drooling whenever she smells it pouring from unclothed blue crotch.. \"I was winding my own business when you decided to ram your nose between my legs, kid..\" She starts, still holding her muzzle, dipping a finger between her lips to give her a taste of slimy precum. \"Before I know it, you're begging me to fuck you bare! I wanted to use a rubber, but you insisted, spreading yourself open for me like a common whore!\n\nFairglen Anatra feels her eyes drifting open and closed yet again, unbelievably heavy, much like her thought processes. She slogs through them like they're a swamp of cold molasses, murmuring out, \"But...if you came in me...I'll have no home....\" She laments, already starting to forget what concern feels like. The bed is nice and soft, and it would be so nice to have the Mistress in it as well. Fairglen smacks her lips, as though overtaken by an incredible, powerful thirst. Something would hit the spot right about now. Just then she looks down at her hand, still bearing one of the old cum stains. Without thinking too hard, if at all, she leans down and licks some of it off her pelt with a delirious hum. Her rational mind holds fast, but the lust bleeds in, starting to shape her decisions to the end of getting more of that scent - that flavour. \"Could....would you take me in? Please? I'll sleep on the floor. I'll do whatever you want. I'll find a job, I promise.\" She offers, hoping that the sight and smell of the pup's crotch would be a constant thing if she stayed there. She even uses one of her old stand-bys: The eyes. She looks positively weepy, letting her eyes grow big and dewy. With that shade of violet, it's a powerful effect, if a bit unnecessary at times.\n\nLiquorice Black lowers her eyes to slits, and tosses the phone to the bed, letting it skitter to a stop before the mare. \"Your parents won't allow you to mate? You're a fine young girl in her prime, you're ripe. Phone them now, and tell them you're staying with a friend indefinitely, that they're not to worry about you. Tell them you don't want them to even contact you.\" Her sticky paw gets lifted to her own muzzle, and she diligently cleans it of the hot slime, kissing and sucking droplets of precum from her fur, from fingernails and her wrist. \"Do that, and I'll put you up for a while.\" Man, what a push-over. Tell a girl she was a shameless slut and she believes it-no, embraces it! So much so she's willing to leave home rather than deal with her issue - a short visit to the hospital or popping a pill would dislodge the young from her body, but there was obviously a desire to be held in this strange room, despite the chain and collar holding her to the bed. Pup casually stands nearby, tugging her sheath with her 'clean' hand.\n\nFairglen Anatra reaches out for the phone, picks it up, and stares at it for a moment. She searches her mind for the right number, and starts to slowly punch it in. It has to be right. There's no other way. Not to have that scent around and admit to breaking her agreement with unprotected sex. The nature of it is revealed steadily as she speaks. \"Hello? Mom....mom mom...I'm, uhm, I'm fine. I just needed to tell you to call my agent....tell her I'm not coming, and...and,\" she repeats, trying to talk over a very distraught voice. \"I'm not going back to the apartment either....no, I'm staying with a friend, uhm, indefinitely.\" A big word for her, but she repeats it regardless. \"...you can sell it. All of it. Just bag up the top two drawers and mail them to me. I'll pick them up later. Put it in my account. No, I won't be visiting this weekend....I don't know. Gottago, byeloveyou.\" She hangs up, passing the phone off to the herm from her place on the bed. \"That's...it, Mistress.\" She says a bit hesitantly. After that, however, she starts leaning in, sniffing out at the puppy sheath as it's played with, licking her lips at the sight of a fine herm crotch before her eyes.\n\nLiquorice Black smiles sweetly, warmly, in an almost motherly fashion. The teen would have to rely on guidance of the bitch that had raped and seeded her. Liquorice would be the most important person in her life from now on - the hand that guides, shelters, feeds and pleasures. \"Good girl..\" She praises, sliding a few fingers into her sticky blonde fringe to pull her hair back a fraction, coaxing her nearer, lips a foot away from her hot, glistening-wet fuckpole. Now half a foot. Five inches, four inches, three.... The cord snaps taught, stopping her from getting any nearer, perhaps close enough to touch the tip of her tongue against her thick fur, or to catch a fleeting taste of throbbing meat. \"You can work for me, slut. You'll work here. I've not decided what role is best for you yet.\" Now that she'd demonstrated that her dick holster is out of reach, fingers slide out and caress her cheek, giving it light little taps, teasing slaps even. \"You're too pretty for the tills, too gorgeous to hide away in the glory-holes, too filthy to put in the private lap dance rooms.\" Hm, maybe she could rent the little chocolate filly out? Those cuntlips were awfully tight, like they'd never taken the swell of a knot before, her bigger customers would pay top-dollar for a chance to ram that slippery, sloppy passage bare. \"What did you work as before, honeyfuck? A model? Actress?\"\n\nFairglen Anatra looks for all the world like an infant trying to get at a teat, and she even has that same, utterly disappointed look when she's unable to reach it. The pet mare looks up at her owner, ears tipped forward to listen. If there's one thing in the world she can pay attention to, it's the owner of the dominant scent and the adjoining, beautiful crotch, to say nothing of the rest of her body. \"I'm...was a model, Ma'am.\" She replies respectfully, suddenly getting a confused look on her face as she tries to remember something else. \"...latest was...Vogue Italy. Two months ago.\" She's not sure what any of the rest means. All she knows and cares about is pleasing the voice of her new life. \"I could do any of those things, I think...probably.\" Her confidence is a bit stifled by the musk, but on the raw facts of it, she's crazy enough to involve herself in whatever it takes to pay her way into the herm's good books, not that her juicy snatch and eager mouth hadn't already delivered on that.\n\nLiquorice Black is very, very impressed. Already getting the idea that her old life is in tatters. She'd make a loyal pet, willing to throw everything away just to please that bulging dog dick. The lust she shows is enough to bring forth another slight swelling, putting drooling dick tip in range of her lips, just enough for her to wrap around and kiss. \"We have a bunch'a rooms with locks on down in the basement, I reckon you could work there. You don't need to do anything, really. You've already got all the skills you'll need - sitting down in slutty clothes looking as pretty as you can be. You just meet with someone for an hour, and take commission when they leave..\" She strokes blonde hair, brushing it back as she talks down condescendingly. \"Think you dumb little blonde head could do something that simple? No need to follow any difficult instructions, just be a nice little girl for whoever comes in?\" Yeah, she'd make a good whore, and her tip jar would overflow with extra cash for Liquorice to steal from under her nose, dumping those personal earnings into the pot of cash at the close of the night.\n\nFairglen Anatra strains against her collar, feeling herself get a bit of a choke around her neck before it finally is within reach without being strangled. With that little bit of cock available to her, she plants a lover's kiss on it, soft and amorous, with a light flick of the tongue for added effect, to say nothing of the precum that ends up in her hungry belly. As the hand strokes her mane, she looks up, having been paying quite close attention still despite the enthralling puppy cock that rests in her mouth. \"Yes, Mistress. I can do that. I'll be the best basement girl you've ever had.\" She murmurs, probably not quite understanding that the operative word would be \"joygirl.\" \"I'll even try extra hard, so more customers come in for the store, and not just to come to my room.\"\n\nLiquorice Black nods, smirking as she agrees. \"Good, I'm sure they'll be coming regularly, slutmeat.\" It was probably true too, a seasoned slut hanging out in a secluded room, legs spread and always ready for another dick in her fuck slot was bound to be good for business, especially when the shop's illustrious owner personally vouched for how good her pussy was. She paid no special attention to the lips moving over the head of her drooling dick, Fairglen would have to get used to the idea that fellatio was no longer something that could buy her favour with her partners, it was casual, even expected of her when she wasn't moaning, begging, or gagged. \"I'm sure you'll do a great job, you'll make lots a' lovely new friends, ones that won't leave you when you beg for a dick in your puss'.\" She reminds, referring to the trio that bolted upon seeing the filly bend over for a stranger's cock. Now that she'd mentioned it, it was obvious the girl was built to be a model, her muscles neatly turned, hips curvaceous, face naturally beautiful even with sperm smeared from her chin to forehead. Those slender limbs would look good in cuffs, needing only a few clips to hogtie her up for the shop floor!\n\nFairglen Anatra didn't have so much experience with those types of strangers. Her sorts of strangers were usually quite handsome and fairly lean, not the sort who wander around a sex shop to buy time with a fucktoy. Just the same, Fairglen savors the sacred ebon fuckspire that her tongue lingers over. She never did it for favor. She did it to enjoy a hot, meaty rod in her mouth. With her Mistress, however, she did it to get that musk breezing through her nose, to bring her entire body pleasure, and to enjoy a helping of precum in addition to all the copious semen she could get her mouth on. \"What?\" She asks aloud, managing to get something through her haze. \"Oh...bitches owe me three hundred dollars.\" She coos, reverting to licking at the pup's robust bitch tamer while she speaks. \"They bet me...I couldn't walk in - mmmm - and seduce a random person. Then they run.\" She gets a mildly grumpy look on her face, then tilts her head to the side. \"When do I start working, Madame?\"\n\nLiquorice Black taps the side of her face with her palm again, curling fingers below her jaw to hold her steady, and plunge an inch of slippery dog dick between her hungry lips, tossing out salty bands of precum that drenches her tongue. Morning suck jobs from this trashy piece of meat were going to be incredible, she just knew it, and having her angelic face peek up from beneath the covers to ask for a firm knotting... oh, swoon! \"You don't need friends like that any more. You'll make new ones every night.\" She reminds her new toy, dragging herself out to bop the filly on her muzzle with the underbelly of her cock, waving it so near that it nearly entirely obscures her vision - close enough for the leaking slit at its tip to be distinguishable. \"I'll be back. Sit tight - no, in fact, I want you to masturbate, you horny little cunt. I want you to feel what a load drooling from your little quim is like. Get used to it.\" The shop was closed, an impromptu decision by the owner as she wanted to test out her latest toy, and stripping the towel from her waist, Liquorice walks out into the main store, on the second floor.\n\nFairglen Anatra takes to Liquorice's cock like a rabbit to dried papaya and hay. She's not only happy to just snack on it, she's looking forward to the next time even while one is still going on and fresh in her mouth. Fairglen drinks her precum like a good little cumslut, the dark shaft popping free of her lips before striking her lightly on the nose. She chews lightly on the inside of her bottom lip, taking in the hard tool from close up, all the more intrigued and attracted to it for being able to see its finer details. As her owner leaves, the sweetmeat crawls back to the middle of the bed - her entire body leaving small trails of cum behind like a snail - and lays down, making herself comfortable as her hand goes between her legs. Her head propped up on one pillow, she starts edging between those slick, dark folds, immediately noting the texture of cum on her flesh and inside of her as her whitewashed sex starts to ripple inside, stirring the semi-congealed mess. Her legs stay spread, thong in its place as before and nearly just as much a decoration as the rest of her for all the good it does, save in announcing she's too much of a tramp to put it back in place.\n\nLiquorice Black returned some ten, fifteen minutes later. She had in her arms a cardboard box. \"We're going to play dress-up, honeycunt.\" She announces, placing the box on the end of the bed, at untouched ripples of dark silk that the mare wouldn't be able to reach due to her collar. The lid remains half closed, obscuring just enough of what's inside as to leave it a mystery. Again, she tries to ignore the incredible sight of a teenage model happily fingering her cum load back inside, knowing that soon enough it would become a daily, mundane sight. Never the less, it got a rise out of her, sagging sheath perking up to spill out her dick once again, performing a constant in-out, in-out as she leaves and rejoins her gorgeous fuckslave. The fact that she'd lied to her about wanting to take a dick bare, and that the stupid blonde bitch actually bought it was a miniature triumph, and it hit home with each slick squelch of seed mashing itself between dainty fingers. \"Suck your fingers, and lick your hands clean.\" She commands quite sharply, sitting between the box at her mare.\n\nFairglen Anatra is forever lost to the utter irony that is learning the joys of having cum shot inside her after specifically forbidding it, getting it anyway, and then being told she asked for it. Aside from that, what she was ordered to do was masturbate, and by the time her owner is back, the hot little filly has an orgasm under her belt, and that cum-tinged scent of her stirred honey pot wafts through the air. She smiles up through the squirms and the moans when Liquorice returns, the stunning dog herm giving her much more to frig herself about just by walking in, let alone having the blessed black rod slipping out of its sheath. Once ordered, however, she stops immediately, and brings her hand up from between her legs, sitting up to do so. The tongue so formerly occupied with slurping on dog nuts diligently cleans her fingers, then sets about lapping at her palm. She's very thorough, and at one point, manages to fit all of her fingers up to their base knuckles in her mouth, just to be sure of her work.\n\nLiquorice Black would be patient enough to wait for sweet Fairglen to suck all the spunk from her fingers, one leg crossed over the other as she quietly observes her oral technique, able to see her pink tongue flashing between fingers, and know just how it felt wiping and rubbing over the belly of her meat. Another throb, and the shaft pours out to a turgid four inches now, leaking some more. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a surprise that Liquorice's underwear often ended the day around her ankles, or sopping wet with her excessive precum squirting. Either way, this sweet little horsie would be there to clean her crotch up, or at least huff the steamy liquid she'd been pumping. Hell, the bitch might even get a chain about her collar to make sure she couldn't escape from her owner's fragrant genitals, forced to nuzzle and inhale all night long. Brush those thoughts away, Liquorice! There's work to be done. She turns towards the box, and lifts out four cuffs - two slightly larger, all joined by an O-Ring that goes through their mounted D-Rings. She turns back, adjusts and smiles. \"Legs out. Wrists out too. Hold them all together.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra isn't entirely sure what's going on, but Liquorice's cock is getting harder, and that means something good is about to happen! The simple-minded teen shuffles over to her Mistress, smile still splitting her face as she reaches out as if she's performing the first position on a rowing machine. She leans over, sitting down, and touches her hooves with her legs together. Quite the limber thing, too, it turns out, and it pushes out her breasts in that lovely, coquettish way that most females have to work for.\n\nLiquorice Black takes a second to wipe the drool from the corner of her lips. This girl was gorgeous.. And with a little smooth-talking and some scent play, she was all hers to use and abuse! Wrist and ankle cuffs are carefully applied, the pooch taking her time to apply each one. Straps were pulled tight, and then loosened one notch to allow a little freedom of movement, and silver buckles neatly threaded. These buckles also had tiny rings for padlocks to threat through, ensuring that even when the hoss had full access to tamper with the buckles, there was no way she'd be able to remove them. These were leather in a similar style to the collar about her neck, blue with an inlaid black band, silver D-Rings clutching at the central O that tethers them together, ensuring she'd be stuck in that position for some time (or with her knees bought to rest under her chin, if she pulls her legs back.) Liquorice pauses, waiting to see what sort of a reaction that would bring.\n\nFairglen Anatra tilts her head at the contraption, trying to tug her limbs apart and naturally failing to do so. She looks up at the herm and then back to her shackles. She experiments a moment, pulling her limbs up to her torso, then re-extending them. \"Mistress, what is this for?\" She asks earnestly, trying to figure out the purpose of such a device other than to keep her chained in place and hindered, as if the locked collar isn't enough. \"They're very pretty though, Mistress.\" She remarks, finding that she's not sure why she never learned about this side of fashion before. They contrast nicely with her pelt, and the colors are well-matched.\n\nLiquorice Black purses her lips. \"I'm probably going to hurt you a little pet. I don't want you going back out to the shop floor without a few marks on you first, just so that people know who you belong to. You want to wear your Mistress' marks on your body, don't you?\" She asks, fishing out a shiny red ball-gag from the box. She polishes its surface over her thigh on both sides, and then presents it with the straps held out to be bitten. \"Open.\" She commands, bouncing the red sphere to the girl's lips. Bondage wasn't particularly Liquorice's forté, but with a shop full of it and a girl in desperate need of being put into her new role as a cheap piece of sticky fuckmeat, it was a useful tool.\n\nFairglen Anatra flinches at her words. The idea of simply being hurt as a necessity is beyond her current imagination, but the herm's explanation suffices for her. She nods, her eyes tinged with a bit of concern, since it almost seems like she doesn't want to hurt her new pet. After a curious glance to the gag, she opens her mouth, letting herself be gagged. It occurs to her, after it's put in place and her ability to speak is removed, that she saw things like this stacked up in boxes and on racks in the shop during her brief patrol around its main area. Her tail swishes about behind her, matted here and there with off-white seed. It's about the only part of her that she can move with any freedom, but the whole setup feels....almost normal. She feels secure with her Mistress, if a bit anxious as to her performance.\n\nLiquorice Black carefully ties the gag off, so far the only piece of bondage on her body that hasn't been secured with a padlock, which probably meant that Liquorice did not intend for it to be a permanent fixture. She carefully retrieves a plastic-handled tool from the box. It seems to have a ring loaded between a needle and a block, and looks vaguely pistol shaped. \"Don't move a muscle.\" She warns, bringing the freshly sterilized piercing gun up to wave it before the mare's eyes. Where could this thick, round, silver ring possibly be heading for? It might look cute weighing down one of her ears, but it was certainly too big for her eyebrow or lip. \"Let's see if all these restraints were necessary.\" she teases, wrapping one hand around the girl's gagged muzzle to move the gun between her nostrils, cleanly and quickly stabbing through cartilage to give her a sturdy silver nose-ring which sits across her stretched upper lip. \"Mm...pretty as a picture!\"\n\nFairglen Anatra proves the reason the restraints were used. She looks positively fearful when the gun comes out. Fearful, yet trusting, and then the gun goes off. It's fast - faster than her thankfully - and the filly yanks her head back, forgetting the position she's in while trying to get up and run, of all things. One loud, muffled cry later, she's on her side, fallen over like a tased goat. It's an interesting sight, since her sopping wet mare cunt is visible under her overturned ass, between those forcibly straightened legs. She wiggles her nose, feeling the new, strange sensation of the ring rubbing against the tip of her snout and the top of her lip. It's not that it hurts, There's not enough tears for that. It spooked her something fierce, and stung like mad, however, and she looks around, trying to heft herself up so she can sit again. After that outburst, she looks on Liquorice and looks away, ears folded, yet eyes saying it's more embarrassed at herself than anything for making a scene.\n\nLiquorice Black almost giggles to herself as the mare topples onto her side, watching her sticky, bound form bounce over her silk bedsheets. All that hot stinky musk that had been swimming around her nose would now be locked in, making sure that the girl would never be entirely free of Liquorice's unique, spicy stench. Perhaps she would find other interesting, colourful uses for that nose-ring as time went on, but for now it just seemed to make her dizzy with musk. Liquorice stands, folding up the top of the box she'd bought along to seal it and take it off to store safely in a wardrobe, slotting it into the topmost shelf. The canine rummages a little longer, sifting through junk that seems to have accumulated at the base of the wardrobe, setting off numerous items that jiggle and vibrate at the lightest touch, only to lift out a rather beautiful, expensive camera. She slings the strap around her neck, tugging her wet ponytail through it. \"Mmm, all mine, honey. You're all mine now. I'm so glad you agreed to wear my collar and be my slave.\" She shakes her head. \"I wish you could remember it. You looked so needy, so in love.\" The camera is raised, and she starts snapping, walking around her, focusing on that creamy slit, her spunked up hair and muzzle. \"Your mama's gonna love seeing you like this, slut-baby. We'll keep this letter aside for when you work up the courage to tell her where you're really staying.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra rolls her head about on the sheets, lost in a humid sort of daze, despite the room being entirely comfortable. It's sweltering between her ears, eyes focusing with a lot of difficulty. It's effort she enjoys putting in, since it's rewarded with the curvy, form of her owner, jutting out just around the midsection. The pictures come out a cross between slave and kidnapping victim. Truth be told, she's a little bit of both. Her nose twitches, huffing through it as if she could dislodge her new accessory like a bug. It sways, bouncing on her snout. Through it all, a distinct heat flows around her loins in currents, like a molten river freshly carved into her more delicate regions. One of those violet eyes catches glimpses of the lovely pup who bought her on the sole value of a load of cum and a litter of pups to be delivered later. A tiny voice, chained in a hole in the back of her mind, protests the pictures, the camera, and being exposed to her mother as a wanton musk slave, but a louder, lust-driven voice moans through her gag, and her marecunt winks. The lips purse, showing off moonstone-studded coral folds and a small dribble of honey from her juicy core. Her tail doesn't even protest, stopping each sway before it covers her nethers so her Mistress can admire her body. That's what it was only really ever about - her life, her job - being admired. Being looked at, even in the worst way.\n\nLiquorice Black had half a mind to use her stiff doggy pole to stab through those juiced up little folds and introduce another wad of swimming sperm to the back of the girl's womb, her knotmeat throbbing at the thought of it before it had even swollen. She lifts the camera from her neck and switches it off, placing it by the bedside table with the rest of her junk. The temptation to simply hunker down and thread herself inside that syrupy little hole simply grows and grows, but she knows that making another claim on her body will be all the sweeter for waiting. No, she stretches and leans down to feed her fingers along the small steel loop holing her limbs together, removing both ankle cuffs from it so the mare may have freedom of movement for her legs once again, wrists still bound tightly together. \"Get up.\" She commands, tugging at a drawer to fish out a length of chain. \"Get up and hold yourself straight, I know you're trained to do it already. I don't even need to teach you. Tits and ass out, back straight, hooves planted on the floor.\" She holds the end of the chain in her fingers, a small loop of blue leather marking the end of silver ringlets. If her pretty little fuckpet was tardy in her actions, she'd neatly whip the loop over her bare breasts till she got up and moved, even slapping her bottom and thighs with it till she stood up straight, showing off her beautiful body like a catwalk model.\n\nFairglen Anatra is begging for it on a physiological level, since the rest of her isn't quite \"up\" to pleading for a hot dog stuffed into her crotch and tied there for the next couple days. She's about to leap upon Liq the first second her limbs are freed, but the sharp cut of her voice puts the hot little filly on hold, alert for the next command as she climbs up off of the bed. The details are as naturally received as any other pose she was ever given. Her arms, still possessing a good deal of \"umph\" whether or not she feels it over the chemicals swamping her brain, push her off the bed and onto her feet with a dual clopping of both hooves. Her arms on her hips and to the back in a familiar, haughty tease of a stance, she pushes her breasts out and her ass back. It shows off everything, though normally, she doesn't lift her tail at the same time. The muscles dedicated to it start to twinge a bit, since she's never had her tail lifted so continually at any point prior. Even sex had breaks in it. She's a tall thing, but still a bit diminutive next to the purple pup, and the sex-smears on her fur are worn as proudly as any of her former clothes. Idly, she wonders why the heck she's still wearing a skirt and that displaced thong, but dismisses it. They're scraps, like a loincloth. They say, \"I'm civilized. Or I used to be. Look at my ass, it's got fabric on it.\"\n\nLiquorice Black reaches out and places a hand on her stomach, feeling it with her fingers, and then her palm giving it gentle strokes. It would swell with time, and the young teen would grow a childbearing figure - her puppies far smaller than the foals she would have otherwise mothered, and that was good, as the little bitch would get to keep her gorgeous figure even after providing young. She slowly walks around, keeping that palm flat against her body as it slips from stomach to waist, to her back.. A slight pause. She examines the way that tail's constantly aloft, pondering how best she could ensure that it always stayed that way - lifted in a submissive stance, showing off her recently cum-streaked lips to all the customers in store. Maybe some sort of attachment to her collar, or a ring at its base? She made a mental note to braid it in an exquisitely fine pattern next time her mare slept. Perhaps she might enjoy vestiges of her old life as a normal girl. Her designer skirt and damp underwear may show others how far she'd fallen. Claws start to work through them, shredding each to ribbons, letting them flutter in a heap. No modesty for a slave; no signs of what they were. She was owned now and to be moulded into something new, something filthy. The only clothes she'd need were her leather cuffs, collar, and the damp ball gag in her mouth. \"Now present.\" She commands, swatting her bottom with the leash-strap again. \"Face down, ass up. I wanna see that puss of yours beggin' for it.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra doesn't mourn her clothing a bit. They leave her with all the care of a hamster that happens to eat its young. Maybe less. Her body tenses up when she's swatted, and she bends over as far as she can, which is impressive. She's agile - limber, even - and she reaches for the floor, successfully grabbing at her hooves even with her legs together as they are. She points her nose as far as the floor as she can, feeling the weight of the fresh piercing in her sensitive nose, light though it is. Her tail, however, takes the place of her upper body in position. The glossy platinum fountain of hair points straight up at the base, the rest of it cascading down almost at random. The cum-streaked honey valley, nestled between chocolate hills and mountains of butterscotch pelt over smooth, firm flesh, stays at its most prominent. Even when she's not winking, her eager box is slightly open just a bit. When it does wink, it's akin to holding herself open with her fingers, offering herself in a pose reserved for the most lurid of pictures.\n\nLiquorice Black absolutely loves it. She loves it so much that she tosses the leash over her neck and steps back over to the camera, resting the lens cap just out of shot, in the fountain of blonde currently pointing towards the ceiling. She takes her time, taking many shots of that glorious seed-leaking slot that seems to be beckoning her back for another fuck. She gets all artsy with shallow depth of field, and then takes base pictures that appeal to the primal urges of all creatures with stiff fucksticks, catering for the different websites she'll be plastering the high-res copies on later. It elicits a little laugh as she quietly wonders if past lovers or ever her father might stumble across the snaps and recognize her juicy little rear end. The camera gets stored away once again, and she abruptly jams her thumb into that winking fuckhole, digging inside to dislodge a few puddles of puppy sperm, still warm, if a little stickier and congealed. \"What a cunt....\" She sighs, before digging her finger out and slapping the globe of her right ass-cheek with her palm. \"Stand!\" Liquorice walks slowly back around, thumb lodged in her mouth as she sucks it clean, not a stranger to her own juice.\n\nFairglen Anatra holds her position with the stillness, yet the utter smoldering eroticism - as if a nude, gorgeous mare needs any more - of a practiced photogenic subject. Her sweet milking sleeve relaxes on and off, offering a bit of variety to the pictures in the wide winks and the slightly pursed, sultry offering of her pose. Depending on which happens first, her father is likely to reveal her new occupation and/or location to her mother. Though whether or not he pops in to partake of his whorish little girl is to be seen. After all, hers is not to ask why. Hers it so do, over and over again. She stands, as ordered, back in her prior position. Her tail droops as she rests it, dark nipples pert and saluting as her hands can't quite manage.\n\nLiquorice Black looks between collar and nose ring several times, trying to decide which one to snap the leash on to. She finally settles on the collar, clipping it on in a single, practiced motion, letting the chain run through her hands in its entirety before she starts to walk on, allowing it to tighten if she stands still for too long like an idle moron. \"Come.\" She demands, more of a bark than spoken word, allowing the filly to see that her owner can be short and sharp at times, giving her a little contrast for the adoring fawning she'd likely receive later whilst tied to the base of her throbbing dog meat. Regular customers to Midnight Heat know that they should expect the owner to walk around in all states of dress, including nudity, and the new customers warm up to the idea quite quickly too. She parades the girl out into the empty store, down a flight of stairs, and back to the counter she'd been bent over hours prior. \"You're resigned to your new life, marecunt? You know that your parents will never receive you with a child, and that your friends will reject you for your submission to me? You realize that your school will turn their nose up at a common street-slut, and that everyone you know will judge you for being who you are?\" She stands to face her finally, stopping by the cash register, lifting to gently caress her cheek. \"Only I can look after you now. You must always do as I day, and I will care for you. Understand, slave?\"\n\nFairglen Anatra trots right along, following the leash as much as her owner. While she's a common sight running around the shop without any sort of clothes save a smile and a throbbing erection, Fairglen is a recent addition. As the nude, brand new toy - still with that fresh out of the package smell - stands next to the counter, she looks at Liq, ears forward and at attention. The words sink in, her musk-induced haze at a low end. Her face scrunches up with a bit of despair, knowing it's all gone, right down to her clothes. Even if her parents would accept her, her job wouldn't, and she had no aspirations beyond that. Given how on top of everything Liq is, she immediately assumes her Mistress has the right angle, dismissing her own hope in favor of the affection she now knows is guaranteed. The stroke on her cheek makes every part of her lift, it seems, smile to eyes to ears. She nods, trying to offer a little smile through her gag. Her mane tosses as she does, adding a little flourish to her most basic of motions. It's like she's been trained to dispense glitter with her heartbeat; no movement is unremarkable, even if it's just a little inefficient.\n\nLiquorice Black smiles back, her teeth showing in what turns out to be something of a mixed grin, half sweet, half devilish. She had this cum-hungry mare under her thumb, right where she wanted her to be. Elated by her simple comforts, and crushed by the thought that the people who used to loved her (and probably still would, at this moment) would now turn her away and reject her. Only papa Anatra, or her buff male cousins would want anything to do with her now, and there was little doubt that Liquorice would be able to somehow get the word worming its way over to them in due time, planting little seeds of lust for their former daughter and cousin, videos of her spunked up, twitching marecunt sent over daily with special family discounts attached. The hand caresses her cheek a moment longer, toying with the hair by her temples, glides over her muzzle, and then to her lips. Fingers hook into her fresh (and ever so slightly bloody) piercing, giving it a soft, gentle pull towards her. No, not towards her, down...down...down..down till she was standing almost at a right angle requiring perfect poise to stand upright and maintain the bend. Click! The nose-ring is affixed to a slight depression in the tabletop, latching her to its surface securely. \"How do you feel?\" She asks, stroking over her hair, as if nothing had happened.\n\nFairglen Anatra flits her eyes up to Liq, then down to the finger, crossing her eyes curiously, and only notices the depression in the counter until she's latched into it. Her ass is out, her hands beneath her, and she glances up at Liq with one eye, hooves shifting so she can establish some semblance of balance. Her breasts rest on the wooden surface, at the very least providing a support for her ample chest. Can't have such fine mounds sagging so early in her life, after all. Without a voice thanks to the gag, she simply gives her tail a swish. One side, then another, then lifts it up to make sure her glistening, cleft is visible and easily seen by everyone who passes, particularly her Mistress.\n\nFairglen Anatra actually sets about being hitched, and that's exactly what she is by any stretch of the imagination, with the natural stretching of any mare. She steps in place, practically digging her hooves into the floor so she's steady. With her wrists bound as they are, she can reach back between her legs and stroke idly at the top of her mound, tugging down on the inviting cuntflesh like a slutty little tease. While it's pleasant, it's not quite a searing hot cock hilted inside her and a pair of hips pushing against her shapely ass. It does, however, get a nice bead of fluid dripping off her clit. It's a fine little activity for the mare, keeping herself slick and ready while offering a show to the patrons. Besides all the obvious sexual applications, it's sure to increase foot traffic and word of mouth.\n\nLiquorice Black had closed doors while she was breaking the mare in earlier. There was no use having the place open and he mare tied down if she couldn't fully enjoy her completely uninterrupted. \"Good girl.\" She praises, stroking her warm, dark hand along her muzzle, into blonde-bimbo hair, and on to her shoulder. Just perfect, the little dick-slut was thrusting her pouting, greasy little lips out and getting the creamy pink of their insides showing without the slightest prompt. She'd be a great attraction, something for customers to mount and ream while they waited in line to pay for their goods - her mind lingering on the thought of one of her regular stallion males making increasingly often visits to the store to get his fuck on with this bitch's ripe and ready cunt. She walks along the bend of her body, trailing fingers down her spine, tugging her tail lightly. \"Lift it. High. Straight up.\" Her fingers are curled around its base, making sure the root points towards the ceiling before letting go. Mm....That slit's still dripping, drooling. The hot, virile dog spunk up inside her still slowly finding creases to leak from.\n\nFairglen Anatra sticks her tongue out the corner of her mouth as she tries to get her tail just right on feel alone. The tug helps, in its own way, and she tries her best to get all the hair, and not just some, moving to any one side or up along her back. It wouldn't do to have it looking like an indecisive coral polyp or to be in the way of her tasty cunt, after all. It takes a couple flicks of particular muscles and she takes her hands away from her slit to brace them against her thighs while she concentrates, but eventually, she's got it up in the proper, straight manner with the long hair tracing over her left hip like a beatnik's hair, sans beret. It's hard doing things without looking, thanks to the ring in her nose holding her down, but it's not unlike posing for certain pictures; always the person with the idea prodding and tweaking until the stance is just right. In this case, it's a very welcome prodding that gives just the right light on her shiny, pre-fucked puss so the beads of semen contrast nicely off her dark mound and even manage to stand out in the fur on her thighs.\n\nLiquorice Black admires the sight of those meaty, fuckable hams, clapping a hand over her backside to squeeze and tug, getting her trotting from side to side till she's stood at a right angle to the desk, moving her body about with fingers sunk into her behind. \"Stay!\" she teases, knowing full well that she didn't have much of a choice, bound to the counter top by a sensitive new piercing. Dexterous fingers get to work separating blonde tail hair into ropes, gently twisting them to bind each together into a golden cord, each passed between another, up and over. She works silently, and is only hindered by the odd strand slipping from her fingers as the accumulated fucksauce clinging to it proves to be too much to hold on to. By the end of things, at least eight inches of tail hair is left braided, the remainder loose and free to sway like a pom-pom. \"There.. Try now.\" She encourages, warming a couple fingers inside of the girl's available, dripping slit, gently finger-fucking her. \"I want this hot little puss' of mine on display at all times. Mm...you wanna work the shop floor so badly? I'll let the shop floor work you.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra has no idea what she's doing, but it feels...interesting. Less interesting than being groped by her owner like an orange in the fruit section, to be sure, but interesting nonetheless. Her next order almost gets followed before the spice of having fingers shoved in her gooey cum slot, but a surprised, abrupt hum and a twitching of her ears doesn't stop Fair from swaying her newly-tamed tail in the appropriate direction. It flops over, following her spine while the ends brush over her back with much more ease than before thanks to the careful braiding. It's lucky she only takes one try, because the way her greased up tunnel reacts, there's not much mental space left for another. It gives a welcoming squeeze - an attempt at a handshake, perhaps - with a squish generally reserved for the entrance of a cock each time Liq's fingers move through her heated entrance. \n\nLiquorice Black is a lady of class, or at least one with an eye for good design. How else was she going to sell sex toys at a ridiculous mark-up if she didn't know when to turn away the ugly ones so as to make the rest of her stock look all the more classy? Sure, the tiny little trimmer she retrieves from the counter top (used for neatening sticky, matted fur after particularly messy romps by the till) could be used to write all sorts of derogatory comments in the girl's beautiful, well-maintained fur, but she had more interesting plans than all that. People would be able to see she was an easy fuck and hungry for dick by the way she swayed her ass at them, but....Bzzzzzz. People would certainly now know who this young filly belonged to by the monogram \"LB\" shaved into her right shoulder blade, pink skin showing beneath chocolate pelt, flourishes like a calligraphic pen woven through the strands. She places the pen-sized shaver just within eyesight, and heads over towards the door - flipping the closed sign over, and unlocking the door.\n\nFairglen Anatra feels more than a little humiliated, but that would be the point, after all. The buzzing is greeted with a despairing whimper that almost sounds like she's being cut open outright. So proud is she, despite everything else, that she can't quite get over having some part of her body made...asymmetrical in such an unladylike way. Still, it's not an actual wound and she's left to complain to the counter top, her new, and closest, friend. And suddenly, it betrays her by offering a surface of solace to the shaver. She grits her teeth at it, quite angry at the new arrival. Just when she was getting a taste for horizontal planes.\n\nLiquorice Black smiles to herself, checking the clock that hung just above the entrance. It was getting late now, and the evening rush of horny couples looking for an extra kick in their evening fun would soon be flooding inside, along with all the horny single men looking for something to help them masturbate to an incredible solo climax. Normally they'd head to the magazines, or the single-use masturbators to pick up something cheap and cheerful, but each would now be presented with a cheap, slippery marecunt on their way to pay. Liquorice heads back, sucking her fingers, and claps a hand across the gagged slut's behind. Oh right, the gag. This wasn't as much fun if she couldn't call out to all the strangers mounting her drippy slit, was it? She carefully unclasps it, pulling the spit-dribbling red orb out of the way. \"Tell me how you feel, honeycunt. How does day-one in your new role as a Midnight Heat employee feel?\"\n\nFairglen Anatra can stay on her hooves for hours if need be, and sometimes the need does, in fact, be. Like now. She keeps her tail up, but enjoys a rather undignified flexing of her jaw to make sure it's comfortable when it's closed now. \"It feels good, Madame! Well, I mean, it doesn't feel any different than normal so far. Except being fucked. And being naked in public. And having something in my nose. That's weird.\" She doesn't mention the monogrammed bald spot on her back, but then, that doesn't register over the draft on her still-gooey marecunt, her womb being a pool of dogspunk being kept warm by her own body heat at this point. \"I'm fine, though! I'll be the best, Madame. I'm~ good at standing in one spot and looking pretty.\" Her hands come up underneath her, bound as they are, and gently tweak each of her nipples in turn, getting a small warm current flowing through her body.\n\nLiquorice Black wonders if the poor, sweet girl would send any more eggs tumbling out into the soup that would be piling up in her hot little womb over the next four hours. Felines were meant to induce ovulation by dragging those thick, fleshy barbs back through vaginal canals - maybe she'd give a mixed litter when the day finally came. Ooh, wouldn't that be fun? Having her take the young ones for a walk with several different species in their baby buggies - just another sign that the collared girl was slave to anyone with a throbbing dick. She leans down, gently nibbling over one of those sweet, flickering ears. \"My customers are going to screw you, honey. One after the other. I want you to get a taste of what working in those rooms is going to be like. No matter how much you whine or bitch about it, I'm not going to stop them. You'll beg 'em for seconds, tell them they're bigger than the guy before them, and cry about how much you want them to spunk in your cunny.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra just might, if there's any felines to be had before the night is out. Naturally, she hasn't had any before since those are hard condoms to make and they might break any other ones. A few have spent some time in her mouth, but otherwise....\"They...\" The little filly pauses, realizing that she wasn't just some decoration. She's irritated at herself for being thick about it, but why think, after all, when there was such wonderful things to smell before? Her ears twitch, feeling the nibbling even when it's not necessarily happening. \"Yes, Ma'am. I'll make sure they leave wanting to come back. \" She murmurs, feeling her hot chocolate snatch purse inside at the thought and the admission. \"Is there a minimum purchase, or do I just let them on for fun?\" She's nothing if not professional, and Liq did say \"customers\" specifically.\n\nLiquorice Black shakes her head. \"So long as they buy something - hell. They could be buyin' a box of condoms to use on their wife at home, and still get a turn blasting their load inside your little cunny, hon'.\" She stands upright again, and then circles the counter to take a seat facing her nosering-bound fuckslave, legs crossed over one another as she perches on the stool. \"It's already late evening, so this'll be a taster of what working in the rooms downstairs is like, where you'll be spread all day.\" She retrieves a nail-file, talking casually about the girl's new life, one that had been decided for her as soon as those nostrils were wedged up between the mutt's sweaty thighs. \"'Course, you'll spend lunch breaks with me.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra whimpers, partially giving a small whinny at that, and finds a new resting place for her hands. Specifically, she strokes them down the front of one thigh to rest just above her knee. \"I'm not going to get a moment's rest, am I, Mistress?\" She asks, showing more than a little of what is either vanity or resignation or both at the idea of being a ready cum bucket for the patronage at the front counter and a middle class whore as a day job. The idea of getting lunch breaks, however, perks her right up. She'd be standing up straight if it wasn't for the nose ring, and she almost does despite it - the metal tugging on her septum reminds her just why she's bent over still. \"Do I get real lunch, or will it be all liquids?\"\n\nLiquorice Black ponders, what would be best for a girl like this? A prim and proper high-class model that she's aiming to knock the stool from beneath to make her hit rock bottom? \"You'll get real food, we need to keep you in shape though, so I'll be monitoring everything you eat, and have one of my other playthings help prepare it for you.\" Maybe a little special sauce squirted over her sandwiches, or a salty, spicy salad dressing over her daily greens? Hell, she could even add a dash of addictive agent to that hot, sloppy, stringy sauce to keep her wanting more and more of it, slowly and secretly getting her trained on the taste of puppyjism till she craved it every minute of the day. That'd certainly come in handy for when the mare started to show the signs of pregnancy - she wouldn't be able to work the floor as easily, but having her huddled beneath the desk sucking cream right from the tap was certainly an option. The bell above the door chimes. A stallion and buck enter and immediately head for the pornography.\n\nFairglen Anatra can't nod, so she gives a simply reply in the form of \"Yes, Mistress. I'm very good about my food, usually. I've never failed a weigh in.\" Her body vouches for that, to be sure. She even looks a little disappointed at the idea that she's not going to be drinking naught but hot dog spunk all hours of the day, so proper saucing of her food is the best she can hope for until she's inevitably the slavering cum fiend that she's being trained to be. When the door chimes, her ear flicks backwards, trying to get a read on who came in. She sniffs the air, and doesn't get much, still having the thick scent of musk jamming up her nose thanks to Liq's diligence. Her hands grip her thigh in anticipation, and she eyes her boss and owner, feeling a sharp, hot twinge from the cursory glance at her sultry indigo frame.\n\nLiquorice Black puts down the nail file after trimming a few millimetres from each translucent claw tip, sharpening them up to fine points. Pooches like herself weren't particularly known for having sharp nails, but thanks to the biological marvel of the opposable thumb and the technological advances of nail files, she could get them as sharp as talons, perfect for impromptu piercings, or great long scratch marks over supple horse-flesh. The men seemed to be friends and milled around, laughing and nudging one another as they examined the backs of DVD cases. A couple enter now, two lapine lovers that stare in awe at the store before wandering towards the toys, the female of the couple catches the sight of an upturned blonde tail by the counter, and exclaims. \"Holy shit! L...Look at that! Do they usually do that here?\" There's a quiet murmur from the husband, and then they both laugh, going back to their shopping with blush-red cheeks. Liquorice leans down with a smile. \"I think they noticed you. Make sure you ask for a fuck when they come an' pay.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra flushes about the ears, folded back as they are to hear most of what's being said. She doesn't have the best hearing, but it's not bad enough to miss the gist of it, especially the wife's comment. One comes forward for the express purpose of paying attention to her owner despite the reflexive need to shove her violet eyes into their corners in a vain attempt to see behind her. \"Yes, Madame. I'll do my best.\" She murmurs, a small quiver in her voice. She's never worked retail before, and when the thing being retailed is her, in a way, the pressure increases. The lithe filly takes a deep, calming breath. Nothing to fear. It should be like selling water to the dehydrated after all. The couple, despite the order of arrival, gets to the counter first. Briefly, Fairglen wonders how to ask for such a thing, then settles on the best way she knows how. As the sex aides hit the counter, she keens out to the male. \"Please, fuck me. I'm feeling empty. Just one big load of cum? Fast as you want, I promise it's all I want.\" She begs, using the classic \"neighbor is out of sugar\" angle.\n\nLiquorice Black smirks, ringing up the various sex toys they present on the counter with a silent glance to her hungry little dick-slave. She'd have to learn that now she was easy to get, not everyone would want her. Perhaps in her former employment people would rush off to fulfill her every little desire, change their plans to meet her needs, and pull down their slacks when she fancied a dick to suck on. Not so now, no. Now that she was available for all and sundry to hump at, people might even find her unattractive, the dribbling load of puppyspunk drooling from her lips even showed that she'd be second hand merchandise. \"I.. I'm going to go and make love to my fiancé!\" he explains, reaching over to stroke her hair apologetically, the woman winding around to stare at her tail, and drooling slit, peeling her bottom apart with great curiosity.\n\nFairglen Anatra is offended! The nerve of some people! Yes, she's definitely in retail. Or is it the service industry? Either way, something about the male's spurning of her eager, and truth be told, earnest, request stings in a way that's erased nicely when his wife, of all people, has a closer look at her nethers. Granted, she'd had a couple fun times with the ladies, but her best nights were spent in the company of a cock. There's something to be said, though, for a set of slender fingers opening up her oozing, soft slit to observe the pink tunnel within. More's the pity, then, that she can't really tell right off who is touching her. The little bit of stimulation would make her wink, if she weren't already being opened. It does, however, make her exposed flesh purse lewdly for consideration. Fairglen can't see, but the refusal and the touch contrast, so she plays on the curiosity with all due haste. \"But...you can have her any time. Just a little fuck? Please? I promise she won't vanish if you just see what a mare feels like.\"\n\nLiquorice Black smirks, bagging up the items and laying them on the counter. The girl currently has her fingers dug into a brown bubble-butt, peeling just enough so that the mare's slit opens, drools, winks at her and breathes out hot, musky fumes. If anything, it's turning her on even more, and she lifts her hand away with a gentle stroke to poor Fairglen's tush, her arousal mounting by the second, and the need to go home and screw her husband becomes greater. She takes the male lapine by the wrist, nods a thanks to Liquorice, and drags him away. \"Home, now! Gotta get you in bed, boy!\" The other totters after her with a huge tent in his pants, obviously tempted by the blonde bombshell. Liquorice offers a gentle stroke to her blonde fringe. \"Hey, you tried your best, right? 'Probably wouldn't have even felt that little bunny-prick stabbing you after you had me.\" She pauses, and looks up, and then back down. \"This stud though..\" Squuueeezzze. The flare of a stallion's drooling fuckstick starts peeling her sloppy folds apart, filling it exquisitely.\n\nFairglen Anatra actually whimpers a bit as she's petted - not by the customer, but by Liquorice - since she rather failed at successfully enticing a notoriously horny species. But that's in the past and there's a flared horsecock pushing into her dripping honey pot. Best to focus on the now, really. \"Oh wow, ooh~!\" She was sagging a bit in posture, feeling a little dejected. The sweet, musky meat pushing into her marecunt is a proper stimulant, bringing her right back to full attention and losing track of her words. They start flying out of her mouth before her brain can read them. \"More, please! Pleasemore.\" A good, seductive line escapes her while she's drawing in a form-fitted stallion cock. It's the proper species to get the most out of her juicy hole, and her folds grip and tug at it instinctively. Every last bit of her pulls together in a completely inappropriate after school special about cooperation as it pertains to draining stallion cum. \"Fuck me! Fuck me now!\"\n\nThe stallion's already leaning over her with his hands on her shoulders, thrusting forward to make her little slit fart with cum, which elicits a little chuckle from Liquorice, who finds them funny, even mid-sex. The gentle, filling thrusts stay as just that whilst his cervine friend piles a good collection of pornography on to the counter, several of the dirty flicks featuring teenage mares that Fairglen could easily surpass in beauty contests. The silent, puss-hungry colt can't believe his luck, sheathing his impressively thick fuckpole in this gorgeous girl, stirring a previous load about her tight little pussy - no, not just fucking, actually being begged to do so, his tail lifting and hips jerking as he gets to roughly digging his drooling rod in her depths - the flare smashing over her cervix, bruising it.\n\nFairglen Anatra was simply enjoying the joy of having herself filled to brimming with juicy stallion fuckmeat, but the twinge of pain she gets when he hammers against the taut, abused base of her womb brings a startled, half-joyous gasp out of her mouth. She'd lift her head up as her eyes start to roll, but the ring in her nose leaves her simply moistening the counter with each panting breath. \"Yes! God yes, right there! It all goes right there...\" She trails off a bit as her dripping swamp of a crotch gets plumbed, her hands reaching out to grip the side of the counter, pushing back just enough to keep herself nice and even with the rod sliding around in her cum-soaked tunnel. Aside from her juices, more than a few beads of sticky white seed start to rest around his base, spreading the joy of that rich musk around to no immediate end.\n\nBig boy's really getting in to it now, and his buddy's all paid up in less than a minute or two, chewing on a piece of cherry gum with one arm rested on the counter, simply watching the spectacle of this stranger getting boned hard and deep by his friend. Liquorice looks up to see how he's doing now and then, but otherwise busies herself with filling out a record book, noting down yesterday's sales and her fresh ones this morning. The thick, rubbery medial ring starts to flare up along with the mushroomed head of his bitch-taming tool as watery streams of precum slopp up her insides for a treat, making their fuck sound even sloppier and nastier, drawing a small audience to watch from afar. He lifts his head at last, and wheezes out to the shop's owner \"S'it cool if I cum?\" To which he receives a silent nod, invisible to the downwards facing eyes of the mare.\n\nFairglen Anatra isn't normally one to orgasm excessively, and her day is having something to say about that. In a fit of pleasure that's something to behold, her legs snap up in concert with a sharp squeal and her ankles lock behind the small of his back. She manages to make the counter creak as she holds herself balanced and in place on upper body strength and eager willpower. Her hips buck, stroking even while he stops, and a throbbing clench comes down across his drooling, flexing pole. She shakes both from exertion and the heady orgasm that works him over, practically forcing him to cum inside her if he wasn't already.\n\nThe stallion had no choice in the matter, grunting as he's captured by the girl's legs and drawn forward to mash his textured, flaring fucktip square against her creamy little babymaker hole. The first shot of sloppy, rich fuck-cream punches at the back of her womb as he starts to blast inside, his upper body giving a jerk of movement. \"Unnh! Fuck!\" Liquorice finally looks up, wiping a little of her own dickjuice across Fairglen's nostrils to keep her keen whilst being bred by one of her own kind. It would be interesting to see what sort of mix of children she'd come out with first. Maybe a mixed litter? The second ropey shot of sizzling seed comes with the added pressure of the colt laying flat against her back, bucking in time with her milking hip-wriggling; the third onwards getting whisked around her gooey insides by the hungry fucking, making the thick juice dribble down her bare inner thighs and audibly slap against the floor.\n\nFairglen Anatra was never one for raw strength, and by the time he's halfway through his release, her arms are giving. That and the precious scent of her owner's musk make her legs come off his ass and clop back down to the floor, spread like the lovely little slut she is. The needy filly would moan more, in fact, but she's less about breathing out and more about huffing through her nose as much as possible, snuffling at the seed spread over it. Equine mating being what it is, Fair's already overfull cunt takes in a fresh burst of seed, gets a nice second coat along her walls mixed with her own honey, and the rest starts making a right proper mess. The feeling of warm cum splashing over the insides of her legs renews her climax, if only for a bit, and she flexes inside along with it. It's the last squeeze she manages before the flow stops and her hot stud flops out, but it'll keep his hand busy for months.\n\nThe big boy takes a few steps back, his prick held in her vice-grip pussy right until the last three inches, where it streaks a fat line of seed against the front of the counter-top, grazing Fairglen's thighs on its heavy swing down. \"Dude....\" He grunts to his cervine buddy, stroking his balls to try and soothe their empty ache. \"Want a turn?\" He chuckles, glancing back at the girl's cum smothered lips and milky thighs. The buck rolls his eyes and grabs at the bag of pornography, heading out of the store. Stallion graciously slaps a few coins down on the counter as a tip, less than a whore would get for sucking a little dick. \"Hey, thanks! I'll be back for her some time.\" He promises, looking at her downturned face as he heads towards the rest-rooms to clean himself off, jeans slung over his shoulders. Liquorice bends down, reaching under to give the girl's throat a little tickle. \"Good girl, good girl.. See how easy that was? You can do that, right? Easy job for a dumb bimbo like you.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra is one thing to see from the front or the side, but from the back? She an open toy, and a used one at that. When he's out of her, she makes a few shots worth of mess below her forcibly bloomed flower. Fair hums, or purrs, a bit as Liquorice deigns to stroke her, those violet eyes glancing up at the smoldering smut peddler. \"Mmhmm. Yes,\" She murmurs, lacking nodding distance, \"I can do it. All the time. It's...more fun than bending around for a pose. I think I need to be more convincing, though. One out of four? Lousy.\" She's speaking with the slow, steady clarity of someone either drunk or high or incredibly sleep-deprived - in her case, fucked silly and swimming in a pool of hormones - and manages to still be a perfectionist. Her braided tail wiggles a bit, trying to swish as it normally did after a male left his place behind her, and she curls each leg in turn, stretching them out with a lazy, cum-soaked sort of grace.\n\nAt this point, most would have the decency to either cover up the jism-soaked mare, or remove her from the counter so that she didn't frighten off potential customers with more timid personalities. \"Hey, it's still early, and we stay open till ten, so you'll have plenty chance to exercise your begging techniques, kid.\" She wanders around the filly's bent-over body, shaking a spray bottle in her hand as she comes to face that drenched set of teenage petals, hosing them down with a mist of water. In her other hand's a wide, absorbent cloth, which she roughly applies to the stains she'd accumulated, wiping her off till she looked almost respectable again - just a creamy ring of sperm clinging to her hole testament to the double loads she'd taken during the morning and afternoon. Even her gorgeous show-girl legs get bathed and wiped off, excess sperm splattered to the flood in cooled off wads. Decisions decisions....Clip! The nose ring comes free with a little handiwork from the pooch, allowing her to stand upright for the first time in at least an hour. \"Clean your mess up.\"\n\nFairglen Anatra has the indecency to squirm as she's cleaned up. After all, it's 1: The Mistress's hand doing the work and 2: All the best parts to play with, fresh from a hot and heavy rutting. \"Maybe if I tried selling it, instead of begging.\" She muses aloud in the mean time. Given her state, her mind would be in a museum if it were a computer. The stretch she enjoyed goes full body when she's allowed to stand up. Not that she's disobeying orders or slacking, but a good stretch moves overpriced underwear, and porn is much cheaper. The moment her body starts to relax from the tension, however, she dives to the floor. Breasts drooping beneath her, nipples brushing against the surface, she laps decadently at the spots and pools of cum. In places where there's enough, she plants her lips and sucks it up before swallowing wholesale.\n\nLiquorice Black mirrors those first few minutes the pair had met, planting her foot on the back of her head to force the girl down, grazing her teeth against the floor, drowning her nostrils in heavy wads of sweet smelling sperm. \"Selling yourself ain't gonna work just yet, kid.\" She corrects. \"Not good enough to start earning money till you can seduce every fat dick that walks through those doors. I'm gonna let you wander for the rest of the evening - see how many men you can seduce and take down-stairs to one of the fuck rooms. There's a bed, some lube, and a pile of towels for you to use. Should be a nice n' easy task to start with, don't you think?\" Of course, Liquorice would neglect to mention the cameras hidden in recesses, behind shelves, inside light fittings - those would make her a pretty penny, once she sold the footage to some amateur porn sites.\n\nFairglen Anatra has her ears neatly pushed back so she can hear everything the indigo pup has to say, as is duly respectful. It doesn't stop her, of course, and the mare-shaped cum vacuum finishes while her mind mulls over the best possible way to handle any of the men in the shop. Being the sort of store it is, turnover is her best friend. Anyone who didn't watch her get fucked won't necessarily know she has been, if that's their problem, and the ones that don't care just need to be found before they leave. \"Yes, Ma'am. I'll get right on it.\" She offers, only needing the paw removed from the back of her head to get to work. It's all about finding the ones that look at her just so. Like they really, really want to fuck her. Or the ones that keep looking and hunch over to hide their hard-on. No tent and an occasional disinterested glance? No. And any men browsing the gay porn section. Females, maybe, sparse as they are, but she's not cold-calling a butt boi for her own ego. She's at least that smart.\n\nLiquorice Black only lifts her foot once every last drop of steaming jism is lifted from the cool floor below, either mopped up by her tongue or smeared across her model-like features. Toes play across her neck in a parting gesture, before canine turns about and gets back on with business. A few shelves needed restocking, and it was far more cost-effective to get the new girl to flaunt her ass and get a few new repeat-customers than it was to have her lining jelly dildos up. There's a fine selection of men by now, a few that had watched the mare dicked by her stallion lover, and a small group of new ones that seemed familiar with the store, yet unfamiliar with its newest employee. Everything from drakes to bulls, from tigers to iguanas - a whole gamut of exotic dick for sweet Fairglen to try out.\n\nFairglen Anatra is only defeated by her indecision. It's like being double-booked for every single minute of her day. After the few seconds of overwhelmed hesitation following her release from the floor - a fine spot of matted fur from soaking up sweet horse jizz - Fair slips into her cool lady routine and starts to strut around the ranks of assembled males. Sure, they should know she's available and as easy as they come, so to speak, but she still acts like it's her choice who she's fucking. Ogling the lot of them like cars, her fingers slip over tails and brush against hips while her bound tail bobs behind her. It's hard work, strutting with a pussy so intent on throbbing constantly, but the occasional twitch gets her gasping, and heaving breasts bring the eyes. A few words roll out in murmurs, just loud enough for a few others to hear, but still soft enough to be a genuine tease as she hovers from to the other. \"Come on. Don't be shy. You only lose if you don't step up.\" The drake gets a soft nip at the back of his jaw, and the tiger gets close brush that leaves a bit of her scent from the pelt on her mons settling on his leg.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Fairglen Anatra strolls into the seedy little shop, having been egged on by that silly little anorexic rabbit, the tigress, and the butch Doberman to prove just how hot she thinks she is. What proof she's supposed to produce, Fairglen doesn't know. Her friends are only slightly smarter than she is. Wrapped in her white jacket with a matching, small purse dangling off her arm, teal tank top, and soft, pastel green skirt, her hooves clop across the door jamb as she enters. Those violet eyes scan the room, looking for something that's liable to pop out of its pants at the sight of her. Barring that, a dyke. Either one works. She doesn't have the "looking for love" expression, being so goaded into it. If nothing else, she can turn the charm on when she gets her target. And while she looks for a viable partner, the lean, if curvy, mare hunts for a replacement for the dildo she finally wore out.

Midnight heat is something of a cornucopia of sexual produce. The walls are lined with dildos, vibrators and sexual aids of every shape, colour, texture and size. There are lengths of flopping silicon that look like arms, complex red vibrators with flashing LEDs and parts that hum as they rotate, and rows of dark buttplugs that seem to range from a gentle tickle to a full on reaming. There are shelves of pornography of every media imaginable, male masturbators, scented oils and glow-in-the-dark lube bottles. The cashier also appears to be balls-deep inside of a lusty customer, a cheetah girl with her shorts hanging off her ankles and her tiny little blouse tugged open - a few of the buttons that had held it together laying across the floor in front of her - tits pressed over the creaking wooden table. "Ooohh! Fuck.. You feel that?" Groans the dog leaning over her, cupping her chin and kissing her spotted cheek. "Feel it? Draining me off inside you, good girl."

Fairglen Anatra tried to ignore it, but then, it's hard to get that far into the dildos without noticing what else is going on in the store. The pale, glossy blond filly stops in her tracks and turns, stepping gently over to the row where they are. She can't help but look at the two in their rut. Specifically, her eyes are boring into the place where their hips meet, catching teasing glimpses of the cock wedging its feline plaything open between the mutual movement of their tails. She came in to do just that, in a way, but she ends up jealous - outdone, and she licks her lips as she sneaks up on them. "Just a sniff..." is what she tells herself, wanting to know what the cashier smells like up close in combination with horny, slutty cheetah.

Liquorice Black was pumping out the hot, rich aroma of fresh dog seed. It's spicy, earthy, and gives a potent slap to the sinuses as soon as twitching mare nostrils come in range, filling her head with that musky scent. The fuckmeat's barely visible from between their tied bodies, but every now and then the cashier tugs her hips back and shows off the thin root of meat that leads off to her buried knot. The wedge of meat does a grand job at keeping torrents of juicy, potent seed inside the feline. There was no indication that the girl bent over worked at the store, and by the collection of filled plastic bags off to one side, it looked as though she might just have been a customer. Now she'd be a customer leaving the store with dog spunk trickling down her thighs, the feline taken by her own predator species in public. A few others were watching the scene unfold, but there were obviously those that were either now used to the sight, or who felt the need to avert their gaze. Yellow eyes turn towards the new customer as she lays out, breasts to the cheetah's back, cheek on her shoulder-blades. "Can I help you?" She starts. ".. I'll just be a moment, finishing up here, aren't I?" The girl gives a whimper in response, pushing her bottom back in a soft whudd of meeting bodies.

Fairglen Anatra tries to take a bite out of the air, utterly unable to stop herself from it. She's trying to devour the scent of the cashier's cum mixed with the more subtle, very overpowered scent of cheetah pussy. Fairglen is practically on her knees, as far as she's leaning over. It's unlike anything she's every smelled before. That is, she's smelled fine male musk before, but a certain edge to this practically deactivates her brain in favour of dedicating more space to seeking sex. She wants it - to roll in it, if possible. Before she knows it, a couple whuffing nostrils are nuzzling under the soft indigo tail, seeking out the balls from which the scent must originate. And then, right then, is when the words she actually heard register in the sentient sections of her mind. Her head jerks back and she falters, doing her best to remain poised after a few steps backward. She shakes her head, sniffing down her nose as if to rid it of an itch. "Yes...finishing. Need help finding...something." She murmurs, rubbing her eyes. The buzzing between her ears won't stop.

Liquorice Black gasped out, that little tickle driving her mad. There was another empty puss that needed filling, and she was wasting time buried in the girl she boned twice a week, bare, in return for a packet of condoms she'd later use on her steady boyfriend. Those shaggy testicles were beaded with sweat, and the single inhalation the poor filly had taken would send a number of those clear dots of moisture shooting up into her sinuses - the beads soaking into the sensitive flesh to be smelled for hours to come. If anything, that hot scent was even more overpowering than the pearly cum she was flushing the feline with - greasy dog fur mixed with the wet slime of her sheath and the sweat that poured from her genitals. If the mare could handle that dizzying scent, well, she'd have a treat in store. Liquorice braces her hands out against the poor cheetah's back, and tugs herself free with a wet pop - a sudden torrent of thick, dangling fuckseed pouring to the floor, laddering the girl's spotted thighs, springy and steaming hot. Liquorice stands to one side, facing the crouching ball-sniffer as her erect penis drools with her load. "What is it?" She asks, making to reach for a cloth, but catching herself before she lays hands on it.

Fairglen Anatra thinks for a few short moments, trying to stand as she does. Her legs wobble a couple inches up, and she's back down on the floor again. Her hand comes up, index finger at her chin. "I need...umm...I need..." She fumbles over her words and what remains of her thoughts with that scent harassing her ability to think. It speaks of virility, of strength, of dominance, of something deep inside her that wants that scent for some reason. Her bet and her urges meet, and she makes a decision that's not totally based on the practicality of winning her wager. "I need that. Right now." She brings her finger down to point at the oozing, glistening cock. Her words aren't exactly thought-out, but then, she's not interested in thinking about it so much as doing...something with it.

Liquorice Black gives the spotted bottom next to her a firm swat. The Cheetah tugs her skirt down, steps out of her underwear, and steps away quickly, presumably to return home and give her boyfriend a bunch of sloppy-seconds with her newly purchased latex cockholders. The canine's attention is diverted, watching her totter out and track semen across the floor like a trail of breadcrumbs, a few white dots marking her path out of the shop. She seizes her drooling length of fuckmeat in a padded palm, waving it threateningly at the girl before her, causing a few lazy droplets to surface and spiral towards the floor. "You need this? You need my cock?" She asks. "Where do you need it, little girl? It's all spent up, and likely to go back into its hidey-hole unless someone makes it warm and cozy again." fingertips pinch at her drooling cock tip, getting a thick wad of sperm clinging between forefinger and thumb, mashing it around. "You better hurry."

Fairglen Anatra drops her purse, practically falling all over herself as her eyes go wide. The pupil responses are extraordinary, and the pair of them might make an interesting physiological reaction study if anyone could every sustain funding for such a thing. Fairglen almost snaps at the fingers, lips closing on them to vacuum off the stray seed in a couple seconds before practically diving for the dangling rod between her legs. She gets a full half of the length in her mouth, nose filling with that familiar musk as her mouth seethes with the flavour of fresh cheetah and seed. She cares not where the cat thing had been, only where the cock is going. It's almost comparable to rabies as fervently as she goes after it, head immediately starting to bob with the speed and steady dedication of a gear-driven sex toy from the videos in aisle 5. She doesn't think to use her hands, or really bother, sitting there, sucking as her mane frames the gorgeous equine fiend's face nicely. That picture would sell.

Liquorice Black was already throbbing and jumping around the girl's wonderful mouth within a few moments of sinking inside, her cum vein throbbing fiercely to dump a few hot wads of precum across the back of her throat, sliding out in thick ropes of coat the back of her tongue. She rarely gets such an eager mouth bobbing over her crotch like this and she relishes the chance - cupping both paws to the back of her pretty blonde head, humping forward to bury herself inside. If the cocksucker was unfamiliar with the finer points of deepthroat then she'd be getting a crash course in it right now. The fuckmeat slides down into her gullet, grazing all the rippled points of flesh that usually sent girl's gag reflexes going. A finely timed dart of precum manages to splash in such a way that it sluices up into her sinuses - draping over sensitive olfactory sensors, staining every struggling breath with her hot, musky scent. "Mmh! Fuck...suck it, slut!" She encourages, bucking forward to crush blunt equine muzzle against her dark crotch.

Fairglen Anatra swallowed the precum she was given, sucking for more until she starts to get yanked down into a field of indigo fur. That mouth has seen its share of cocks, and so has her throat. She's not thinking about deepthroating, though. It's more like an active urge to simply have it in her mouth and to slurp up whatever she findd. When it pushes into her throat, the reflex goes full bore, only suppressed when she feels it in the back of her mind. It's a trained response, and it keeps her from returning the precious pre-seed she already had. Instead, her throat muscles cinch up nicely around the intruding masculine pole. She's not just sucking and holding her own with the shaft fucking her throat, she pushes back the sheath on her way down to snuffle directly into that expanse of fur. Her tongue slips forward, dipping into the spots the herm's sheath hides, getting a fresh, enthralling taste of slick, pure musk. As she's yanked to and fro, her kisses repeat, acting as though she's laying teasing smooches on some dyke's mons just as easily as having her throat be a pleasant hole to screw.

Liquorice Black is oh-so-eager to deliver a hot, sloppy throatfuck now that she's confident the mare can swallow cock. Fingers sink into the blonde's locks, tugging sharply with the grip and using her scalp as a handle. She allows the girl a few seconds with her jaw spread wide, mouth kissing over the funkiest sections of dark, veiny cockmeat, the slime from inner sheath glossing her kissing lips, sweat from her crotch glistening over buried nostrils - her shaggy pubes glistening with the fucksauce the Cheetah had deposited against her, a mix of sperm and feline arousal. Then, those beautiful lips were torn away from her root, right till customers could hear the sloppy sound of her throat getting its first taste of fresh air for a full minute before forcing her back down - cramming throat with her drooling meat, slamming her cheeks, tongue and pouting lips down the lower three inches of her throbbing dickmast. "Rrrrhh! Oh man! You a freakin' porn star, or do you just suck a lot of sweaty dick, bitch?!"

Fairglen Anatra is actually eager to do that exact same thing, once it's obvious that's what's occurring - what's going to get those same seed producers to giver her a load of her own. Something under that pretty blonde scalp asks if a throat fuck counts as seduction. That thought vanishes when she gets a fresh coating of mixed bodily fluids smeared all over her nose. The flavour, that unreal, body-wracking flavour under her sheath, makes Fairglen suck with an abrupt pressure each time she has the length in her throat to do it. Once she has a spare moment, or even enough room around the cock to reply, she offers the fastest, best way to get her partner's seed spewing into her body that she can think of. "Lots." It's a single, simple word, and it's followed by the sound of her having her throat refilled with an accompanying sound effect not unlike any of her other orifices when being well and truly fucked.

Liquorice Black yanks that delicious throat from her twitching, bobbing fuckpole, letting the drooping meat flick streamers of cum against the filly's muzzle, painting her short fur, linking tresses of displaced blonde and tan together, drooling over her hungry cocksucker's lips. "Fuck.. You ever done cream pie before, hon'? I'm about ready to fuckin' blow my wad, and I'd hate to miss out!" Yeah, so that was her one weakness. No matter how much a girl might beg for a dick down her throat, or a fat load squirting under her tail, Liquorice would always take a deep, comforting tie if it was on offer. The number of girls that walked out of her shop (and her pad) with blue canine hybrids growing in their tummies was immeasurable, some kept them on, some didn't, but few refused this humble little request. She'd test to see whether or not the dickhungry slut kneeling in front of her would be one of those open-minded girls, or if she'd squeal for a condom first.

Fairglen Anatra hits the equivalent of the wrong way spikes on a parking lot exit ramp. Much like her gag suppression training, she had the need for protection drilled in very, very deeply. Business contracts got held up for months or given away because of unprotected sex, and she's been doing it long enough to be able to fight through the sexual haze to get back to her regularly scheduled program, if only for a second. She gasps, looking up at the herm. "Condom." She nods rapidly, standing up. "Condom first, then just give it to me." She says it, however, like a zombie, walking past the owner of that dark black fuckmeat as she lifts up that light green skirt, revealing the electric pink thong beneath it. It's all stretching weave, no elastic to speak of, and it's so lewdly slim as to let her dark-chocolate-hued mare cunt to peak out the sides. The mare takes the cheetah's position, tail up, and waits the small eternity for the fulfillment she came in for. Wait, it was a bet, right? No, definitely fulfillment. The musk says so.

Liquorice Black is dripping at the sight of such beautifully pouting lips beckoning her forth, steely meat pointing to the ceiling and tapping her toned tummy, soaking over her sheath with rivulets of pre. A few more customers stop to watch now, as the cocky new customer who simply waltzed in and took a whiff of the owner's sweaty sack bends herself over in less than fifteen minutes, showing off her wet lips. Liquorice makes a point of reaching over with one hand to grab a jumbo-sized latex sheath from the counter, ripping it open for effect. She holds the limp ring of rubber in one hand, as the other digs between chocolate lips and retrieves the flimsy band of saturated material, peeling it off to nestle in the shallow valley between wet fucklips and juicy thigh-meat. The latex tip gets positioned across her pointed spire, and rubbed through steaming folds one or twice - even unraveling inside the mare as she spears two or three inches inside.. Yeah, like that was ever gonna happen. She discreetly drops the sagging condom by her feet, and stabs home again - bare, but barely distinguishable from the ultra thin barrier she'd worn seconds before, sinking three... six...eight...ten inches of tensing meat into her cunt - not even a sliver of protection to her leaking fuckspire, no barrier between her wriggling sperm and the mare's hot, accommodating womb. The puppy hisses, hilting up, cramming herself in entirely.

Fairglen Anatra reacts like an amusing animatronic display. The further Liq's ebon puppy dispenser makes its way into her steaming hot marecunt, the more her mouth opens, eyes partially shutting by way of her cheeks raising. Her voice is the same way, the moans only getting louder as the throbbing column of meat goes deeper into her body. Silken, drenched walls cling to its pre-lubed surface. Once the cock is all the way in, the result is academic. She was worked up watching the owner fuck that cheetah slut. She was practically begging for it when it was in her throat. Now, the first, hard thrust kindly shoves her headfirst into an orgasm. Tight as she is, her sex isn't as good as her throat. It's far, far better. Without the obstructions of her teeth or the bend at the back or the annoying need to breathe and a lot more body heat to work with, it's no wonder she's been around. During heat, she could probably call in aircraft by spreading her legs on the tarmac. What's more, the tender walls clench and writhe with a determined purpose that the reflexes in her throat lacked - designed for getting the most possible out of whatever lucky set of balls had its attached injector inside her at the moment she came.

Liquorice Black doesn't think she's even had such a juicy little pussy over her counter, and such an accommodating one too! Normally her fucks at work would whine and fidget as the blue canid crammed them full of her pulsing fucklength, stabbing over their baby-makers with the taper of her dick, roughly prodding at sensitive cervical flesh. This girl was built for stallion cock though, and by the way she groaned out, it was clear she'd only sampled colts in their younger years - that slimy little passage wrapped like a tight glove around the swells and curves of canine penis. "Rrrhhff!" She growled, planting her breasts over poor Fairglen's shoulder blades, grabbing her shoulders tightly to pull herself closer, and mash her spit-damp sheath fur against the mare's pouting lips, giving a few hard thrusts whilst still buried achingly deep to work her rubbery knotmeat over. "Fffuck...E-ever fucked with a dog before?" She groaned, biting possessively at the membrane of an ear, tugging it between her incisors. "Been knotted? I hear it's a real thrill for first-timers!"

Fairglen Anatra is too busy moaning and panting to shut her fool mouth. It's the most common sentiment, how tight she is for a mare, and one that seems so incredibly easy at that. "Nnhgh! I-I nneverrr had a dog before." She pants, feeling nothing but hot, pulsing pleasure throughout every bit of her velvety cockbox. The way the herm mounts her, holding her in place by her shoulders and laying on her, only makes her hotter in every way imaginable. "Nn-nn-knot me." She whimpers, followed with the quiet murmur of a loose thought slipping out of her brain. "...whatever that means." Agreeable as she is, her fertile furnace suddenly squeezes down hard, making her moan as her face rubs and squirms against the table. Her juices trickle out around her and off her clit, matting her soft fur and spattering the floor. Her labia practically grab at the ebon fuckrod, trying to pull it in further on base muscle power.

Liquorice Black almost hops one leg off the floor in her bid to squeeze all of her thick, pulsing meat into this wet cunny before her. Hips undulate erratically, making her deep, bitch-taming thrusts oddly spaced - a few rapid taps followed by a deep jab and a long pull out, cooling the hot mareslime that had formed around the body of her dick, making Fair's insides seem all the more hotter once she plunged inside again, clapping her heavy seed-filled sacks over the subtle curve of pussylips below. The heat of her balls was easily felt each time she nestled inside, the fat marbles resting against trim brown pubic fur, tensing, throbbing, even jumping as they unloaded endless squirts of precum into her 'condom'. The wet slurp of unprotected sex was obvious - but could that be because the mare was just so dripping wet that she was making sounds, or was that condom brimming with liquid, squirting its payload out around the rear of the canine's dick? She teases, crams her dick in deep and swirls it around with adjustments to her hips, probing at the depth of this tight cunt's creamy passage before finally slipping into a steady pace, clapping mare butt with her hips twice a second. "Nnh...louder. Beg for my knot, and you can take it, kid!"

Fairglen Anatra wouldn't even begin to know how much liquid she had inside of her. All she sensed, in the basest part of her brain, was that it wasn't enough. The rest of her consciousness, however, rests assured that the condom, stretched amazingly thin on the herm's cock, will keep the worst from happening. "Please," She speaks up, making it practically an intercom alert for the entire first floor. "Please knot me! I want it! I want to know what it feels like!" She finally admits her ignorance, in truth being so full of her own flowing juices and precum from the hard fucking that its first way out is around the tapered obelisk pummeling her hot, accommodating snatch. It's a little rainstorm between their legs, soaking the panties the cheetah abandoned on the ground with new scents and flavours.

Liquorice Black could feel that lightening of her heavy nuts as she continued to batter the mare's wet cunt. Her thick, veiny meat making her drenched pink ring and dark fucklips pout and spread, even kiss at the forming bulk of her knot as it rammed inside, a pronounced hump that only grew thicker and hotter with each passing second. Normally, she liked working herself up and ramming it inside to claim a fresh girl like Fairglen, but this was going to be even more satisfying. Before she knew it, her fat breeding bulb had grown too large to pull out, and with a tug of her hips, it locked in place, stretching her spread lips.. "Oooohh! T.-there! N-now just wait, honey...." She growled, mashing hips against that plush rear end, grinding her tensing, jumping rod deep inside. This deep, her spearhead was neatly wedged in the round ring of cervical flesh, nestled inside. Was it the hot, bulging condom that was making her insides feel so hot and full? Was it swelling and pushing out a wet plug of barely contained liquid trapped inside latex? No, no! She'd feel it eventually, even if it took a minute or two - the canine was contentedly hosing her womb down with virile torrents of baby batter, painting her nice, clean pink walls white! "Nnhh.."

Fairglen Anatra started to orgasm when the knot locked into place. It was...big. Amazingly big, and hot to boot. It's more full than she's ever felt, and she's very aware, as the new foundation under every bit of pleasure, every hot squeeze, rippling through her sweet, inborn cock holster, that she can't get it out now. The realization that something so complete, so utterly claimant of her body existed put her over the edge, and she practically sobs, or so the moans sound when she squeals in the throes of her orgasm. Midway through the first wave of milking spasms, a moan goes from "Uhn!" to Uhnh?" as she feels that flowing seed as it fills her up like a fine hot-rod at the pump. Halfway in ecstasy and halfway scared to death, she pulls herself along the table, but can't get past the paws on her shoulders, keeping her in place. Despite that, she was already assuming, for some reason, that she'd get away from the girthy rod seeding her fertile, helpless womb, and her legs came up, spread, as if they were under the table as well. It all only serves to make her look sluttier, tail still raised. After about twenty seconds of fighting, the second, chained orgasm hits and she's floored. Everything goes limp again while her nethers do an internal victory dance and her head flops against the table with a thump, tongue lolling out onto the varnished wood.

Liquorice Black had done this hundreds of times, but there was nothing quite like jamming a swimming pool of white doggy sperm into an unwilling womb, knowing that her aggressive baby-makers would be driving their way into the mare's eggs even as they laid there in a perfect mating position - hell, she'd probably been knocked up from the first watery jets of seed-laden precum she'd fired up into that pristine box! "Ssh...Shh.....Just settle down. Unless you want me to split you in two, you're gonna have to just take it now. I can't pull out. Takes about.." She ponders for effect, licking over the girl's neck as she draws out her final count. "Like.. Twenty, thirty minutes?" Clearly the cheetah girl had been bent over the warm desk for some time before Fairglen came-a-snuffling, that or she was a regular customer, acclimatised to the herm's massive fuck-knot. "Mmmh.. Feels good, doesn't it slut?" She coos, testing to see how this stranger would react to being called a name, hands on her shoulders scooping around forcibly to take big mitts full of titflesh, squeezing and tugging at them.

Fairglen Anatra never felt seed flow into her body before. That is, she never felt it coming into her uterus before. Her ass had been used nicely, and her mouth had feasted on the thick goo before, but it never slipped, not once And twitching little mare that she is, she's in no position to keep fighting. All that happens is her ears flick up to the herm dog's voice. Though a bit muffled, it all comes through cleanly. A small whining, plaintive cry comes from the back of her throat, not really audible over the general murmur of the store. It's really the only complain she manages, and judging by her reaction, her body is more than happy to accept a litter from the complete stranger. After a couple deep breaths to get some air back in her lungs, she speaks in the midst of another moan. "Yes. Yess~! It feels incredible." A long huff that just barely escapes being a full-on, feral whinny spaces her words. "I love it."

Liquorice Black brushes her cool nose against the licked-wet neck, nuzzling in as her jaws open. The canine taking a generous bite of loose scruff to pull and tug at, piercing her skin just a little bit. Perhaps it would be humiliating for most canines to sink back to traditions that their feral counterparts tended to use, but there was something very base and satisfying about chewing on a freshly bred bitch's neck, making her hurt as seed oozed into the fertile womb beyond. Her hips roll, tugging at the rear of her knot, making dark lips slurp and stretch around her huge, locked-up bulb. Yeah, there was no chance it was going anywhere soon, not without a crowbar or split lips. Teeth gently left the mare's neck, the canine resting her head against her cock holder's shoulder blades, kneading at beautiful mare-tits through her shirt. "Mmh, I could get used to this..." She complimented - amused by the shocked look one of her customers was giving. Was that...was that one of the girls that had dared Fairglen into the store?

Fairglen Anatra clenches her teeth at the sharp, sudden pain, but there's too much post and mid-orgasmic numbness to keep actually get the real thrust, so to speak, of her teeth. She'll definitely feel it later, and the wound already throbs with the same pulse as her hot little whitewashed cavern. Fair, as oblivious as any drug-riddled whore, doesn't notice the well-dressed tigress looking through the crowd. The musk had done its job. The presumptuous filly is drifting in and out of consciousness, with the non-blacked out portions being crammed with unremorseful pleasure. The steady amusement her tits provide keep that slit twitching like a surprised guinea pig, giving another lusty squeeze just when you thought she might be done. Her friend holds her hands up in front of her mouth, crying out to the purple thing mating with her friend. "What did you do to her?!" She cries, as if it was a bad thing, almost forgetting about the fact she lost the bet.

Liquorice Black reaches back beneath the junction of their genitals, taking a few beads of sweat, and a few hanging ropes of semen between her forefinger and thumb as she had done earlier. "I bred her. Why - you want to be in her position next?" That hand extends out towards the tigress, yet another sub-species she hadn't already had the pleasure of giving a bundle of puppies to. Wet, glistening spunk hangs from her fingertips, and just before the dangling line looks as though it's going to break, her digits move to smear the liquid into poor Fairglen's nostrils, wiggling around inside to smother her with the clinging mixture. What with the sweat in her nose, the precum in her sinuses, and the glistening load around her nostrils, the mare would have a hard time smelling anything else for some days, perhaps even a full week if she didn't find a way to cleanse her skin properly. Liquorice stands up slightly, tugging the filly by her tits so she's at least leaning up off the table. "Show this chick your tits." She demands, giving hanging orbs a gentle squeeze, before sliding her paws away and stroking her lower back over.

Fairglen Anatra is somewhere over the moon, her nose telling her she's absolutely obedient to the creature mating with her. Her slippery marecunt tells her much the same thing, and she finally plants her feet, ass still pushed out against the purple pup's crotch. She pulls her jacket and shirt off over her head, tossing them onto the table so her tits are easily seen, perky and stiff as they are. "Fairglen!" The tigress shouts, waving a paw in front of the mare's face. "Stop it! You're going to get cut from the shoot! Are you seriously letting this happen?" The mare, blinking a few times at her, twists her head over her shoulder, and peers at her sire-to-be, then at the tiger girl. "Why should I? This is perfect." She says in a smooth purr. "Ooh, more cum." The silly, dense thing bends over further onto her hands and knees, pulling the knot along for the ride, and starts to lick at the cum the cheetah let out of her puss on her way out. She crawls along, on spot at a time, licking with reckless abandon. The tigress looks like she's about to puke, which is probably a familiar feeling in her line of work. "Ohmygod."

Liquorice Black doesn't like the slut's she's buried in taking her for a ride. That was her job! As soon as she's planted on the floor, and slurping up a particularly thick wad of dogsperm, she plants a big blue mitt to the back of the mare's head and holds her down - other paw grabbing her tail and wrenching it back. She tugs, shifts, and finally pops her fat fuck knot free with an audible slurp, that hot, bare pussy dripping semen from its gaping hole, making more mess for the girl to suck up. "She's having fun, kid. Don't ruin it for her." Liquorice sneers, raising one side of her lip to the tigress. What a stuck up bitch. She lifts her foot and rests it against the filly's skull, pushing her down hard against a steaming cumstain. "Don't miss any." She reminds her, reinforcing her self-appointed task. "Else I'll ream your asshole, too."

Not that that's some sort of disincentive in her state, no, but it is, however, not her pussy. She can't have that. The mare takes the rough, painful force in stride, assuming the thrumming in her head is a side effect of such a powerful orgasm combined with so much seed in her body. Her sex steadily closes, offering a brief, enlightening view of her off-white insides. Truly, the pink deeper in is next to impossible to find. Her walls are literally coated twice over with active dog cum, and her cervix snapped shut when the tip left it, trapping her ovum in with millions upon millions upon millions of potential mates. Fair goes further than simply licking. Once she can't see any more to lap up, she presses her lips to the floor and sucks just to make sure she got it all. She turns around, looking for what just spilled out of her, and immediately tends to it in the same fashion. The tigress pushes past multiple other patrons and runs right out the door, abandoning the vacuous vacuum to her pleasures. While she's sucking up the stain fresh from her steamy cunt, the tigress and two others poke their heads in, the former pointing at the mare. They don't come all the way in.

Liquorice Black is morbidly curious about the life the mare had decided to leave behind, was she a good girl or a rebel? Did she do well in school, or was she a drop-out? Did she ever intend to buy one of those buzzing red vibrators, or simply come in to huff her shaggy testicles and get a cunt full of steaming doggy jism? None of it really mattered, she was slowly acclimatising the bent-over bitch to her new life - getting her to suck up sopping cumstains from between the legs of the various sluts who presented themselves throughout the day, servicing her fat herm dick when it wasn't buried between pouting pink lips, making sure her fuckstick's hard and dripping by kissing her sheath with that gorgeous mare-tongue.. Mmh, she stiffens up at the thought of it, wriggling toes into the blonde bimbo's hair, really mashing her muzzle into the carpet. Pup' looks towards the door with an inquiring raise of an eyebrow. "You three going to come in, or are you just gonna let all the hot air out?" Indeed the air was hot, hot and sticky, humid even and with the scent of sex thick in it.

Fairglen Anatra has the answers to all those questions, but she's in no real position to say anything. The filly offers no resistance to being stepped on and pushed into the carpet It only keeps her from lifting her head to between spots. The only signal she has is when she tastes the floor and nothing else. Then, she peers around with those hazy violet eyes and finds a new one to suck up. Her tail barely droops from the lack of attention given her cum-soaked puss, and, in fact, swishes about as though she were grazing in a field except the grass is actually delicious and smells like pure sex. The three jump a bit with a start, and they immediately flee without a word. The footfalls are slightly audible for a few seconds after the door closes back up, and the lot of them don't stop for a block before even considering talking about what the hell was going on in there. Fairglen's eyes glance up, however, and she spies those heavy, gorgeous balls. The sight brings her sex-inflamed mind to a white-hot, focused edge, and she whimpers, shuddering. She starts to push slightly against the herm's foot, mouth pursing like a gasping fish, wanting nothing more than to be up between those legs, inhaling that unbelievable scent.

Liquorice Black recognises that longing look, the needy gaze of a cum addict. Sure, though her flared knotmeat still hadn't gone down, and her prick was steadily pumping rivulets of seed down the shaft and into her sheath-fur, the pooch had plenty more sloshing cum down in those pendulous balls for her to guzzle. She'd make her wait a little more though, rolling shoulder back as she pulls out a shallow drawer from the counter, rummaging through its contents with her fingers. Every now and then she flits her eyes back to the girl, helping her reposition to another hillock of seed untasted, attention split between the band of thin leather in her fingers now, and the girl beneath her foot. She eventually allows her up though, spreading her legs apart - resting her backside against the counter's inner edge. "Come on then, take a taste. Be gentle. Love them. Worship 'em.." She encourages, reaching down to cup the fat marbles in her palm. "Make out with 'em like a prom date, slut."

Fairglen Anatra follows the directions she's given through forceful, hard oppression - the go-to example by any standard - of the foot on her head. The air-headed mare makes her way around the floor like a cross between a horse and a Roomba, using the reach of that powerful leg as a de facto leash. When the foot comes off her head, however, she immediately turns her eyes crotchward, ears turning forward to listen. Her eyes get wide, as if she just got that car for her birthday several years ago. As she gets up on her knees and takes a heady whiff, not an inch from the furred sac, she mutters an exultant, "Thank you, so much." The second half is even muffled when she buries her nose against the pelt over those musky orbs. The way she inhales the head-turning odor is almost as if she's skipping the pleasantries and trying to lodge them in her nostrils, but she has orders to follow getting in the way of that. There's a gentle kiss between the heavy nuts, then her mouth opens wide, frenching them from the sides loudly. It says a lot about her prom dates, given how she pushes her face in, barely holding her breath, and sucks over half of that purple sac in at once along with one of the pup's balls.

Liquorice Black shudders and, with her one hand, carefully peels back the neck of her dark, slimy sheath to reveal a stretch of glistening fuckmeat absolutely drenched in marecum and puppyjism, riding it over her muzzle as the girl happily drowns herself in the scent of wet dog. Thick, drippy bands of hot semen ride down the erect spire of her dick, occasionally hanging mid-shaft and dropping onto her face, messing up those delightful blonde-bimbo locks. "Mmhff.. You're not gonna regret coming here tonight, chick. I'll make sure you've always got a dick to suck. Always. Fuck, some of the other customers here are already sprouting hardons for your sexy little creampied puss-No.. No, don't look around, fuckin' get to sucking my balls! Lick 'em, roll 'em around your mouth!" She steadies the dizzy head with a hand, yanking the back of her hair, grinding nostrils into her glistening, funky pubic fur. "Breath DEEP already. Let it fill you..." There were at least six people watching now, standing in a semi-circle around the counter, some rubbing big bulges in their pants, one couple casually grinding against each other, what a /slut/ this girl was.

Fairglen Anatra used to have such a pleasant scent before she wandered into that seedy little shop. It was described by some takers as "Exhilarating" and "without compare." The butch doberman that ran away in shock gave it two thumbs up the cunt. Now, she's absolutely dedicated, it seems, to smelling like the crotch of a perverted herm and looking like the same, in certain ways. The very same off-white jizz lays in drops and streamers about her pelt and hair. The preemptive hand to her head is right on the money, keeping her from hazily watching anything but the crotch she's worshiping. Luckily, it stops her before the hot ball escapes from her mouth, and she starts to glom at the drooping purple sac with renewed vigour. The other joins its twin in her mouth as she sucks on them like the finest of hard candy - her old favourite was peach. Her new favourite is oversexed, sweaty nads. Her cheeks bulge out blatantly around stones that can only be that big or larger for how much seed they put out per load. Just when it's almost too much, she leans her head up and starts to find a path through the loose fur and skin with her tongue, reaching for the slick, freshly-messed base of her cock - the part that stays out during the tie, and stays sheathed the longest.

Liquorice Black rocks her head back; this girl was a brilliant cock sucker. She visualized waking up each morning to the sweet suckling sounds of a mare buried beneath her sheets, gobbling her sheath fur and tonguing buried dog bone. Claw tips sifted through thick blonde hair, scratching up across her scalp to leave flushed red lines in her skin, eventually retrieving her hand so she could take the other end of a leather strip in her fingers. It's smoothed out carefully, a wide dark-blue band of leather inlaid with a strip of black and a steel D-ring protruding from the front, begging for some manner of leash to be attached so that whoever wears it could be trailed along like a feral creature. This mare was going to wear her collar whether she liked it or not. The decision had simply been made for her. What with the huffing dark, squirming testicles in her mouth to suck over, it was pretty much a given that she'd be left addicted to the herm's heady musk. She loops it beneath the girl's neck, and wordlessly wraps it about her throat, pulling blond hair to the side so she can secure the buckle. As if nothing had happened, both hands lift away and start to pump and stroke her jumping fuckpole, milking beams of semen out into the girl's hair, marking her with even more scent. "Deep breaths, hon'. Real deep - even if you start to feel dizzy, don't stop. I want you to smell nothing else." Hands no longer rested upon her head, testing to see if the filly would comply and drown herself in the glistening quagmire of spunky fur and crotch slime.

Fairglen Anatra tends to her duty, licking up flavours that only the truly brave dare to tread in and searching for more. In the world of her focus, two things existed: Her head and the crotch of some musky all-god thing that offered glorious favours to those who know the one true way. In this case, the way is paved with sticky dog spooge. The collar goes unnoticed save for the twist of her head it takes to put it on properly. Her orders are clear, and she presses her nose right up into the fur, moaning despite herself at the sheer strength of the musk. Her nostrils tickle the flesh as it mows a little path around, her teeth flossing with fine violet fur as her mouth shifts around those prized wild oats. The little filly's tongue comes back inside, returning to its service of lapping at her sac. In the process, parts start to go numb. She's so focused on sucking and inhaling more of that scent that she doesn't notice herself start to lean into the store's proprietor, legs giving. Then, shortly after, her arms go as well. It's only by the angle of her body propping up against the herm's crotch that Fairglen stays in place. Then, finally, her jaw goes slack, utterly starved of proper air, and those balls pop wetly from her mouth while she flops onto the floor, marked thoroughly and used, her thong still askew around her cum-spattered crotch and her skirt hiked up around her midriff.

Liquorice Black sighs out as her newly claimed fuckpet simply slumps to the floor in a panting heap, a few customers staring on in horror as those chocolate coloured lips seem to fall from the herm's nut pouch in slow motion, leaving bands of hanging drool from their heavily worshiped pelt. She motions to one of the burlier looking men off in the corner of the store, a large draconian figure with teal scales, who drags the drippy dick-worshipper from under his boss's legs and hoops his arms around her torso, dragging her up. "Take her to my room." She orders casually, bystanders largely confused as to who were staff in this sex store and who were claimed slaves. Did the herm hold enough power to make even seven foot tall scaled monsters submit to her whims? She looks down to her shining length, rubbing a few fingers through her nut fur, into her heated slit, casually masturbating as she turns and rings up a few purchases.

The dragon deposits sweet cream-stuffed mare onto a rather lavish bed, dark silk sheets with white pillowcases cover an incredibly soft and giving mattress, the duvet beneath feeling particularly plush. The rest of the room would appear blurry to the mare, no doubt, if she were to regain consciousness, but it seemed fairly minimal in design, a few shelves dotted with ornaments, a few gadgets on a desk and a number of sex toys lined up above the bed in a perspex cabinet too. Trudge, trudge, trudge.... Soft, padded footsteps, and then a soft click as Liquorice walks right past her laid-out prize and heads on in to the en suite to freshen up.

Fairglen Anatra has wonderful, wonderful dreams about the ideal life in steps that steadily simplify down over time. The first involves her waking up in a strange place, on a soft bed of hazy outline and design. She thinks it's purple. A quick trot to the shower, noting how her hands and hair seem to be sticky with cum from a late, enjoyable night. She steps into the shower, turns on the faucet, and the throbbing black shower-head soaks her body with hot, invigorating dog cum. The creamy spunk soaks her to the bone, gradually melting her down to a fine white puddle that slips into the drain and spills out in short order as one thick, flowing drop from the tip of the herm's cock. She flows down that turgid spire and finally drips off, clinging to the fur on her sac, staining it until some lucky slut gets to suck them, cleaning her from her little slice of heaven. It's in that moment the dreams dissipate and her eyes flutter open. The platinum-on-gold filly groans softly, looking around the room for something familiar and finding nothing. It's all a great haze to her, head still swimming from lingering musk that tries to consume her thoughts like, well, a dog with a bone. What does get through is the utterly sharp stench in her nostrils - sex and cum and more sex - that makes her wonder just what happened after she walked toward that sex shop.

Fairglen Anatra gingerly runs her hands up her body, taking inventory. Her shirt is gone, as is her bra, but her breasts are still very much there. Her mouth tastes like semen and some...other things. The semen is almost expected, though she's glances up at her hair, able to discern that she's had a rollicking good time even without being able to see straight. What she notices after that, however, is a certain happy, flowing warmth in her body. Specifically, it resonates from her uterus, and she gives her inner muscles a clench just to make sure. The little pleasurable twitch that fires off makes her body jerk and contort suddenly, but otherwise, she can feel nothing in those hot folds that makes her think she's anything less than a pregnancy risk at best and a raped mother of four-to-be at worst. She tries to sit up and crawl out of bed only to catch too much of the plush covers and flop onto her side like a junkie on her crash. The motivation to move is almost gone, and a hand touches that strange pressure on her neck. A collar? That clinks and jingles a bit? The reason is beyond those lazy synapses, currently.

Liquorice Black hums to herself from the en suite. She loved mashing her unwashed crotch into that girl's nose, but sometimes she needed to indulge in a little personal hygiene just to keep things motoring along. Besides, what was the appeal of getting a scent-orientated slut to take a deep breath of your ball funk if they had nothing to contrast it against? She worked spicy smelling shower gel into her thick, saliva smothered fur, getting the smell of whore's spit out little by little. Pup began raking her fingers through thigh fur, caressing and cupping her breasts, working a digit into her sheath to get the meat and wet, fleshy insides just shy of an acceptable aroma. What was the point of it all when she was just going to get herself dirty again though? The tall, imposing figure stands at the doorway, her hair tied back into a damp ponytail, a navy-blue towel tied about her waist. "Sleep well, slave?" She asks, the corner of her lip turning up. Poor Fairglen would find it difficult to pace more than a few feet from the comfort of the bed, her collar appeared to have a D-Ring on its rear too, and from this trailed a length of cord, secured to the headrest of Liquorice's luxuriant bed. Already the dark sheets glistened with dog sperm, Fair's thighs absolutely soaked in the drippy white load after having spread it around.

The whole process of getting dirty again doesn't take too long to kick in, an inch of turgid dogmeat sticking from her sheath, pulsing with blood, dribbling slightly with a clear precum. The short rod of meat is smooth, veiny, and tapered to a thin tip from which her heady, aromatic liquid pours. It's also completely out of reach. Big mitts fall to her sheath, which sticks up out of her tied off towel, and gently start to massage it over, spreading the spice of her shower's scent.

Fairglen Anatra shakes her head, trying to make herself come to. The leash on her collar stops the next attempt she makes to climb off the bed, and this time she finally notices what's holding her there. Whatever that scent is, it has faded a bit. Though, admittedly, the herm's clean fragrance isn't free of distraction on its own. She scrambles about the bed a bit, eyes darting up and down the lovely indigo pup and occasionally trying to drift closed only to snap back open again. Since she's extremely tied up at the moment, Fair tries what she has left: Diplomacy. "Umm, I think there's been a misunderstanding. See, my name is Fairglen, and I'm not sure how I got here, but I have work this afternoon." She speaks as though she's on the phone with someone who might have compassion for her plight. Not weepy, just...insistent. "So, if you could take this leash off me, I'll just be...going." Her voice trails off, ceasing her tugging at the leash to frown and stare at her current roommate of sorts. "...this is your cum, isn't it?" She asks with the voice of someone who doesn't like already knowing the answer.

Liquorice Black passes her unusually dark, glistening tongue over her lips. Stripped bare maremeat on her bed, already filled in her throat and belly with swimming sperm, her little soldiers no doubt already mounting continuous assaults on the poor teen's fertile eggs. The fact this girl's already shaken the haze of lust from her just won't do though. The slimy semen smeared around the circles of her nostrils, the hot precum wedged in the back of her sinuses, and the smell of a freshly seeded puss' would still be fairly strong, and would certainly overpower the sweet scene of shower gel - Liquorice cleverly ensuring that her scent would stick for some hours, or days if she could avoid the girl washing her face, without having to constantly re-apply her musky crotch to her face - that alone should keep her somewhat subdued. "Fairglen?" She repeats, smiling. "That's a pretty name, but I don't think that's what I'll be calling you, no no...." She shakes her head, crossing arms beneath her bare breasts, pursing her lips in thought. "I'll call you... slut, or cunt, or fuckmeat." A slight pause, watching the girl struggle and shift around on sheets, the cord just short enough to ensure she'd always have at least one part of her on the bed, unless she was in to choking herself on her collar. "Are you even aware of what you did today?" She asked, that fat fuckmeat now flopping free, arching forwards, dripping. Maybe she could use the gap in her memory to an advantage?

Fairglen Anatra knows quite well what a pregnancy would mean to the rest of her life. Simply, her work would cease coming and her entire career would come to a screeching halt, to say nothing of what the process would do to her body, her reputation, and her attitude. She's not thinking about that just yet, however. "Umm, no. I don't know what happened today." She admits, the sight of that drooling dogcock starting to really grab her attention. The buzz in her head was coming back like a thick fog rolling in over her thoughts, relentless in its suppression of her already-dim mind. "Wha..." She pauses, starting to crawl over to Liquorice, not quite on all fours. Her lower body slumps down, practically dragging herself like a mermaid across the covers. "What happened? What...what do I call you?" The musk around her face and in her nose already has a link to the curvaceous herm, establishing her dominance over the simple little filly. "Wh....why do I have this on my neck?" Her voice gets a bit weaker, not so much caring to tug at it. Her tail swishes from side to side, slightly matted by the seed in it while her breasts dangle beneath her, heavy and inviting. That cock, though. Her body. They're so enticing. So touchable. She licks her lips, catching a taste - familiar, and delicious. The mare snaps here eyes shut, then open again, forcing the cobwebs out of the way, looking around like she can't figure out if she's awake or asleep.

Liquorice Black uncrosses her arms and walks towards her bed-side table, lifting a phone from its holster. She wags it in her hand as she speaks. "Call me Mistress, Madame, Ma'am.. Anything that shows you have some respect for the person who collared you." Oh yeah, that was a collar. A collar which now had a padlock in its buckle to keep it shut - where the key might be located is a total mystery, and if asked the dog would admit that she didn't know either, probably in a landfill by now. Her other hand grabs the bloated tip of her dick and gives it a thorough rubbing, making her palm and fingers glisten with moisture, the sound of her palm pads rubbing over the slick tip very audible from this distance. She reaches forward, and cups her palm over the girl's muzzle, holding it tightly as she rocks her wrist and reapplies her hot musk, letting it drain into her senses once again. Get her craving it, get her acclimatised to that hot sting in her nostrils, get her drooling whenever she smells it pouring from unclothed blue crotch.. "I was winding my own business when you decided to ram your nose between my legs, kid.." She starts, still holding her muzzle, dipping a finger between her lips to give her a taste of slimy precum. "Before I know it, you're begging me to fuck you bare! I wanted to use a rubber, but you insisted, spreading yourself open for me like a common whore!

Fairglen Anatra feels her eyes drifting open and closed yet again, unbelievably heavy, much like her thought processes. She slogs through them like they're a swamp of cold molasses, murmuring out, "But...if you came in me...I'll have no home...." She laments, already starting to forget what concern feels like. The bed is nice and soft, and it would be so nice to have the Mistress in it as well. Fairglen smacks her lips, as though overtaken by an incredible, powerful thirst. Something would hit the spot right about now. Just then she looks down at her hand, still bearing one of the old cum stains. Without thinking too hard, if at all, she leans down and licks some of it off her pelt with a delirious hum. Her rational mind holds fast, but the lust bleeds in, starting to shape her decisions to the end of getting more of that scent - that flavour. "Could....would you take me in? Please? I'll sleep on the floor. I'll do whatever you want. I'll find a job, I promise." She offers, hoping that the sight and smell of the pup's crotch would be a constant thing if she stayed there. She even uses one of her old stand-bys: The eyes. She looks positively weepy, letting her eyes grow big and dewy. With that shade of violet, it's a powerful effect, if a bit unnecessary at times.

Liquorice Black lowers her eyes to slits, and tosses the phone to the bed, letting it skitter to a stop before the mare. "Your parents won't allow you to mate? You're a fine young girl in her prime, you're ripe. Phone them now, and tell them you're staying with a friend indefinitely, that they're not to worry about you. Tell them you don't want them to even contact you." Her sticky paw gets lifted to her own muzzle, and she diligently cleans it of the hot slime, kissing and sucking droplets of precum from her fur, from fingernails and her wrist. "Do that, and I'll put you up for a while." Man, what a push-over. Tell a girl she was a shameless slut and she believes it-no, embraces it! So much so she's willing to leave home rather than deal with her issue - a short visit to the hospital or popping a pill would dislodge the young from her body, but there was obviously a desire to be held in this strange room, despite the chain and collar holding her to the bed. Pup casually stands nearby, tugging her sheath with her 'clean' hand.

Fairglen Anatra reaches out for the phone, picks it up, and stares at it for a moment. She searches her mind for the right number, and starts to slowly punch it in. It has to be right. There's no other way. Not to have that scent around and admit to breaking her agreement with unprotected sex. The nature of it is revealed steadily as she speaks. "Hello? Mom....mom mom...I'm, uhm, I'm fine. I just needed to tell you to call my agent....tell her I'm not coming, and...and," she repeats, trying to talk over a very distraught voice. "I'm not going back to the apartment either....no, I'm staying with a friend, uhm, indefinitely." A big word for her, but she repeats it regardless. "...you can sell it. All of it. Just bag up the top two drawers and mail them to me. I'll pick them up later. Put it in my account. No, I won't be visiting this weekend....I don't know. Gottago, byeloveyou." She hangs up, passing the phone off to the herm from her place on the bed. "That's...it, Mistress." She says a bit hesitantly. After that, however, she starts leaning in, sniffing out at the puppy sheath as it's played with, licking her lips at the sight of a fine herm crotch before her eyes.

Liquorice Black smiles sweetly, warmly, in an almost motherly fashion. The teen would have to rely on guidance of the bitch that had raped and seeded her. Liquorice would be the most important person in her life from now on - the hand that guides, shelters, feeds and pleasures. "Good girl.." She praises, sliding a few fingers into her sticky blonde fringe to pull her hair back a fraction, coaxing her nearer, lips a foot away from her hot, glistening-wet fuckpole. Now half a foot. Five inches, four inches, three.... The cord snaps taught, stopping her from getting any nearer, perhaps close enough to touch the tip of her tongue against her thick fur, or to catch a fleeting taste of throbbing meat. "You can work for me, slut. You'll work here. I've not decided what role is best for you yet." Now that she'd demonstrated that her dick holster is out of reach, fingers slide out and caress her cheek, giving it light little taps, teasing slaps even. "You're too pretty for the tills, too gorgeous to hide away in the glory-holes, too filthy to put in the private lap dance rooms." Hm, maybe she could rent the little chocolate filly out? Those cuntlips were awfully tight, like they'd never taken the swell of a knot before, her bigger customers would pay top-dollar for a chance to ram that slippery, sloppy passage bare. "What did you work as before, honeyfuck? A model? Actress?"

Fairglen Anatra looks for all the world like an infant trying to get at a teat, and she even has that same, utterly disappointed look when she's unable to reach it. The pet mare looks up at her owner, ears tipped forward to listen. If there's one thing in the world she can pay attention to, it's the owner of the dominant scent and the adjoining, beautiful crotch, to say nothing of the rest of her body. "I'm...was a model, Ma'am." She replies respectfully, suddenly getting a confused look on her face as she tries to remember something else. "...latest was...Vogue Italy. Two months ago." She's not sure what any of the rest means. All she knows and cares about is pleasing the voice of her new life. "I could do any of those things, I think...probably." Her confidence is a bit stifled by the musk, but on the raw facts of it, she's crazy enough to involve herself in whatever it takes to pay her way into the herm's good books, not that her juicy snatch and eager mouth hadn't already delivered on that.

Liquorice Black is very, very impressed. Already getting the idea that her old life is in tatters. She'd make a loyal pet, willing to throw everything away just to please that bulging dog dick. The lust she shows is enough to bring forth another slight swelling, putting drooling dick tip in range of her lips, just enough for her to wrap around and kiss. "We have a bunch'a rooms with locks on down in the basement, I reckon you could work there. You don't need to do anything, really. You've already got all the skills you'll need - sitting down in slutty clothes looking as pretty as you can be. You just meet with someone for an hour, and take commission when they leave.." She strokes blonde hair, brushing it back as she talks down condescendingly. "Think you dumb little blonde head could do something that simple? No need to follow any difficult instructions, just be a nice little girl for whoever comes in?" Yeah, she'd make a good whore, and her tip jar would overflow with extra cash for Liquorice to steal from under her nose, dumping those personal earnings into the pot of cash at the close of the night.

Fairglen Anatra strains against her collar, feeling herself get a bit of a choke around her neck before it finally is within reach without being strangled. With that little bit of cock available to her, she plants a lover's kiss on it, soft and amorous, with a light flick of the tongue for added effect, to say nothing of the precum that ends up in her hungry belly. As the hand strokes her mane, she looks up, having been paying quite close attention still despite the enthralling puppy cock that rests in her mouth. "Yes, Mistress. I can do that. I'll be the best basement girl you've ever had." She murmurs, probably not quite understanding that the operative word would be "joygirl." "I'll even try extra hard, so more customers come in for the store, and not just to come to my room."

Liquorice Black nods, smirking as she agrees. "Good, I'm sure they'll be coming regularly, slutmeat." It was probably true too, a seasoned slut hanging out in a secluded room, legs spread and always ready for another dick in her fuck slot was bound to be good for business, especially when the shop's illustrious owner personally vouched for how good her pussy was. She paid no special attention to the lips moving over the head of her drooling dick, Fairglen would have to get used to the idea that fellatio was no longer something that could buy her favour with her partners, it was casual, even expected of her when she wasn't moaning, begging, or gagged. "I'm sure you'll do a great job, you'll make lots a' lovely new friends, ones that won't leave you when you beg for a dick in your puss'." She reminds, referring to the trio that bolted upon seeing the filly bend over for a stranger's cock. Now that she'd mentioned it, it was obvious the girl was built to be a model, her muscles neatly turned, hips curvaceous, face naturally beautiful even with sperm smeared from her chin to forehead. Those slender limbs would look good in cuffs, needing only a few clips to hogtie her up for the shop floor!

Fairglen Anatra didn't have so much experience with those types of strangers. Her sorts of strangers were usually quite handsome and fairly lean, not the sort who wander around a sex shop to buy time with a fucktoy. Just the same, Fairglen savors the sacred ebon fuckspire that her tongue lingers over. She never did it for favor. She did it to enjoy a hot, meaty rod in her mouth. With her Mistress, however, she did it to get that musk breezing through her nose, to bring her entire body pleasure, and to enjoy a helping of precum in addition to all the copious semen she could get her mouth on. "What?" She asks aloud, managing to get something through her haze. "Oh...bitches owe me three hundred dollars." She coos, reverting to licking at the pup's robust bitch tamer while she speaks. "They bet me...I couldn't walk in - mmmm - and seduce a random person. Then they run." She gets a mildly grumpy look on her face, then tilts her head to the side. "When do I start working, Madame?"

Liquorice Black taps the side of her face with her palm again, curling fingers below her jaw to hold her steady, and plunge an inch of slippery dog dick between her hungry lips, tossing out salty bands of precum that drenches her tongue. Morning suck jobs from this trashy piece of meat were going to be incredible, she just knew it, and having her angelic face peek up from beneath the covers to ask for a firm knotting... oh, swoon! "You don't need friends like that any more. You'll make new ones every night." She reminds her new toy, dragging herself out to bop the filly on her muzzle with the underbelly of her cock, waving it so near that it nearly entirely obscures her vision - close enough for the leaking slit at its tip to be distinguishable. "I'll be back. Sit tight - no, in fact, I want you to masturbate, you horny little cunt. I want you to feel what a load drooling from your little quim is like. Get used to it." The shop was closed, an impromptu decision by the owner as she wanted to test out her latest toy, and stripping the towel from her waist, Liquorice walks out into the main store, on the second floor.

Fairglen Anatra takes to Liquorice's cock like a rabbit to dried papaya and hay. She's not only happy to just snack on it, she's looking forward to the next time even while one is still going on and fresh in her mouth. Fairglen drinks her precum like a good little cumslut, the dark shaft popping free of her lips before striking her lightly on the nose. She chews lightly on the inside of her bottom lip, taking in the hard tool from close up, all the more intrigued and attracted to it for being able to see its finer details. As her owner leaves, the sweetmeat crawls back to the middle of the bed - her entire body leaving small trails of cum behind like a snail - and lays down, making herself comfortable as her hand goes between her legs. Her head propped up on one pillow, she starts edging between those slick, dark folds, immediately noting the texture of cum on her flesh and inside of her as her whitewashed sex starts to ripple inside, stirring the semi-congealed mess. Her legs stay spread, thong in its place as before and nearly just as much a decoration as the rest of her for all the good it does, save in announcing she's too much of a tramp to put it back in place.

Liquorice Black returned some ten, fifteen minutes later. She had in her arms a cardboard box. "We're going to play dress-up, honeycunt." She announces, placing the box on the end of the bed, at untouched ripples of dark silk that the mare wouldn't be able to reach due to her collar. The lid remains half closed, obscuring just enough of what's inside as to leave it a mystery. Again, she tries to ignore the incredible sight of a teenage model happily fingering her cum load back inside, knowing that soon enough it would become a daily, mundane sight. Never the less, it got a rise out of her, sagging sheath perking up to spill out her dick once again, performing a constant in-out, in-out as she leaves and rejoins her gorgeous fuckslave. The fact that she'd lied to her about wanting to take a dick bare, and that the stupid blonde bitch actually bought it was a miniature triumph, and it hit home with each slick squelch of seed mashing itself between dainty fingers. "Suck your fingers, and lick your hands clean." She commands quite sharply, sitting between the box at her mare.

Fairglen Anatra is forever lost to the utter irony that is learning the joys of having cum shot inside her after specifically forbidding it, getting it anyway, and then being told she asked for it. Aside from that, what she was ordered to do was masturbate, and by the time her owner is back, the hot little filly has an orgasm under her belt, and that cum-tinged scent of her stirred honey pot wafts through the air. She smiles up through the squirms and the moans when Liquorice returns, the stunning dog herm giving her much more to frig herself about just by walking in, let alone having the blessed black rod slipping out of its sheath. Once ordered, however, she stops immediately, and brings her hand up from between her legs, sitting up to do so. The tongue so formerly occupied with slurping on dog nuts diligently cleans her fingers, then sets about lapping at her palm. She's very thorough, and at one point, manages to fit all of her fingers up to their base knuckles in her mouth, just to be sure of her work.

Liquorice Black would be patient enough to wait for sweet Fairglen to suck all the spunk from her fingers, one leg crossed over the other as she quietly observes her oral technique, able to see her pink tongue flashing between fingers, and know just how it felt wiping and rubbing over the belly of her meat. Another throb, and the shaft pours out to a turgid four inches now, leaking some more. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a surprise that Liquorice's underwear often ended the day around her ankles, or sopping wet with her excessive precum squirting. Either way, this sweet little horsie would be there to clean her crotch up, or at least huff the steamy liquid she'd been pumping. Hell, the bitch might even get a chain about her collar to make sure she couldn't escape from her owner's fragrant genitals, forced to nuzzle and inhale all night long. Brush those thoughts away, Liquorice! There's work to be done. She turns towards the box, and lifts out four cuffs - two slightly larger, all joined by an O-Ring that goes through their mounted D-Rings. She turns back, adjusts and smiles. "Legs out. Wrists out too. Hold them all together."

Fairglen Anatra isn't entirely sure what's going on, but Liquorice's cock is getting harder, and that means something good is about to happen! The simple-minded teen shuffles over to her Mistress, smile still splitting her face as she reaches out as if she's performing the first position on a rowing machine. She leans over, sitting down, and touches her hooves with her legs together. Quite the limber thing, too, it turns out, and it pushes out her breasts in that lovely, coquettish way that most females have to work for.

Liquorice Black takes a second to wipe the drool from the corner of her lips. This girl was gorgeous.. And with a little smooth-talking and some scent play, she was all hers to use and abuse! Wrist and ankle cuffs are carefully applied, the pooch taking her time to apply each one. Straps were pulled tight, and then loosened one notch to allow a little freedom of movement, and silver buckles neatly threaded. These buckles also had tiny rings for padlocks to threat through, ensuring that even when the hoss had full access to tamper with the buckles, there was no way she'd be able to remove them. These were leather in a similar style to the collar about her neck, blue with an inlaid black band, silver D-Rings clutching at the central O that tethers them together, ensuring she'd be stuck in that position for some time (or with her knees bought to rest under her chin, if she pulls her legs back.) Liquorice pauses, waiting to see what sort of a reaction that would bring.

Fairglen Anatra tilts her head at the contraption, trying to tug her limbs apart and naturally failing to do so. She looks up at the herm and then back to her shackles. She experiments a moment, pulling her limbs up to her torso, then re-extending them. "Mistress, what is this for?" She asks earnestly, trying to figure out the purpose of such a device other than to keep her chained in place and hindered, as if the locked collar isn't enough. "They're very pretty though, Mistress." She remarks, finding that she's not sure why she never learned about this side of fashion before. They contrast nicely with her pelt, and the colors are well-matched.

Liquorice Black purses her lips. "I'm probably going to hurt you a little pet. I don't want you going back out to the shop floor without a few marks on you first, just so that people know who you belong to. You want to wear your Mistress' marks on your body, don't you?" She asks, fishing out a shiny red ball-gag from the box. She polishes its surface over her thigh on both sides, and then presents it with the straps held out to be bitten. "Open." She commands, bouncing the red sphere to the girl's lips. Bondage wasn't particularly Liquorice's forté, but with a shop full of it and a girl in desperate need of being put into her new role as a cheap piece of sticky fuckmeat, it was a useful tool.

Fairglen Anatra flinches at her words. The idea of simply being hurt as a necessity is beyond her current imagination, but the herm's explanation suffices for her. She nods, her eyes tinged with a bit of concern, since it almost seems like she doesn't want to hurt her new pet. After a curious glance to the gag, she opens her mouth, letting herself be gagged. It occurs to her, after it's put in place and her ability to speak is removed, that she saw things like this stacked up in boxes and on racks in the shop during her brief patrol around its main area. Her tail swishes about behind her, matted here and there with off-white seed. It's about the only part of her that she can move with any freedom, but the whole setup feels....almost normal. She feels secure with her Mistress, if a bit anxious as to her performance.

Liquorice Black carefully ties the gag off, so far the only piece of bondage on her body that hasn't been secured with a padlock, which probably meant that Liquorice did not intend for it to be a permanent fixture. She carefully retrieves a plastic-handled tool from the box. It seems to have a ring loaded between a needle and a block, and looks vaguely pistol shaped. "Don't move a muscle." She warns, bringing the freshly sterilized piercing gun up to wave it before the mare's eyes. Where could this thick, round, silver ring possibly be heading for? It might look cute weighing down one of her ears, but it was certainly too big for her eyebrow or lip. "Let's see if all these restraints were necessary." she teases, wrapping one hand around the girl's gagged muzzle to move the gun between her nostrils, cleanly and quickly stabbing through cartilage to give her a sturdy silver nose-ring which sits across her stretched upper lip. "Mm...pretty as a picture!"

Fairglen Anatra proves the reason the restraints were used. She looks positively fearful when the gun comes out. Fearful, yet trusting, and then the gun goes off. It's fast - faster than her thankfully - and the filly yanks her head back, forgetting the position she's in while trying to get up and run, of all things. One loud, muffled cry later, she's on her side, fallen over like a tased goat. It's an interesting sight, since her sopping wet mare cunt is visible under her overturned ass, between those forcibly straightened legs. She wiggles her nose, feeling the new, strange sensation of the ring rubbing against the tip of her snout and the top of her lip. It's not that it hurts, There's not enough tears for that. It spooked her something fierce, and stung like mad, however, and she looks around, trying to heft herself up so she can sit again. After that outburst, she looks on Liquorice and looks away, ears folded, yet eyes saying it's more embarrassed at herself than anything for making a scene.

Liquorice Black almost giggles to herself as the mare topples onto her side, watching her sticky, bound form bounce over her silk bedsheets. All that hot stinky musk that had been swimming around her nose would now be locked in, making sure that the girl would never be entirely free of Liquorice's unique, spicy stench. Perhaps she would find other interesting, colourful uses for that nose-ring as time went on, but for now it just seemed to make her dizzy with musk. Liquorice stands, folding up the top of the box she'd bought along to seal it and take it off to store safely in a wardrobe, slotting it into the topmost shelf. The canine rummages a little longer, sifting through junk that seems to have accumulated at the base of the wardrobe, setting off numerous items that jiggle and vibrate at the lightest touch, only to lift out a rather beautiful, expensive camera. She slings the strap around her neck, tugging her wet ponytail through it. "Mmm, all mine, honey. You're all mine now. I'm so glad you agreed to wear my collar and be my slave." She shakes her head. "I wish you could remember it. You looked so needy, so in love." The camera is raised, and she starts snapping, walking around her, focusing on that creamy slit, her spunked up hair and muzzle. "Your mama's gonna love seeing you like this, slut-baby. We'll keep this letter aside for when you work up the courage to tell her where you're really staying."

Fairglen Anatra rolls her head about on the sheets, lost in a humid sort of daze, despite the room being entirely comfortable. It's sweltering between her ears, eyes focusing with a lot of difficulty. It's effort she enjoys putting in, since it's rewarded with the curvy, form of her owner, jutting out just around the midsection. The pictures come out a cross between slave and kidnapping victim. Truth be told, she's a little bit of both. Her nose twitches, huffing through it as if she could dislodge her new accessory like a bug. It sways, bouncing on her snout. Through it all, a distinct heat flows around her loins in currents, like a molten river freshly carved into her more delicate regions. One of those violet eyes catches glimpses of the lovely pup who bought her on the sole value of a load of cum and a litter of pups to be delivered later. A tiny voice, chained in a hole in the back of her mind, protests the pictures, the camera, and being exposed to her mother as a wanton musk slave, but a louder, lust-driven voice moans through her gag, and her marecunt winks. The lips purse, showing off moonstone-studded coral folds and a small dribble of honey from her juicy core. Her tail doesn't even protest, stopping each sway before it covers her nethers so her Mistress can admire her body. That's what it was only really ever about - her life, her job - being admired. Being looked at, even in the worst way.

Liquorice Black had half a mind to use her stiff doggy pole to stab through those juiced up little folds and introduce another wad of swimming sperm to the back of the girl's womb, her knotmeat throbbing at the thought of it before it had even swollen. She lifts the camera from her neck and switches it off, placing it by the bedside table with the rest of her junk. The temptation to simply hunker down and thread herself inside that syrupy little hole simply grows and grows, but she knows that making another claim on her body will be all the sweeter for waiting. No, she stretches and leans down to feed her fingers along the small steel loop holing her limbs together, removing both ankle cuffs from it so the mare may have freedom of movement for her legs once again, wrists still bound tightly together. "Get up." She commands, tugging at a drawer to fish out a length of chain. "Get up and hold yourself straight, I know you're trained to do it already. I don't even need to teach you. Tits and ass out, back straight, hooves planted on the floor." She holds the end of the chain in her fingers, a small loop of blue leather marking the end of silver ringlets. If her pretty little fuckpet was tardy in her actions, she'd neatly whip the loop over her bare breasts till she got up and moved, even slapping her bottom and thighs with it till she stood up straight, showing off her beautiful body like a catwalk model.

Fairglen Anatra is begging for it on a physiological level, since the rest of her isn't quite "up" to pleading for a hot dog stuffed into her crotch and tied there for the next couple days. She's about to leap upon Liq the first second her limbs are freed, but the sharp cut of her voice puts the hot little filly on hold, alert for the next command as she climbs up off of the bed. The details are as naturally received as any other pose she was ever given. Her arms, still possessing a good deal of "umph" whether or not she feels it over the chemicals swamping her brain, push her off the bed and onto her feet with a dual clopping of both hooves. Her arms on her hips and to the back in a familiar, haughty tease of a stance, she pushes her breasts out and her ass back. It shows off everything, though normally, she doesn't lift her tail at the same time. The muscles dedicated to it start to twinge a bit, since she's never had her tail lifted so continually at any point prior. Even sex had breaks in it. She's a tall thing, but still a bit diminutive next to the purple pup, and the sex-smears on her fur are worn as proudly as any of her former clothes. Idly, she wonders why the heck she's still wearing a skirt and that displaced thong, but dismisses it. They're scraps, like a loincloth. They say, "I'm civilized. Or I used to be. Look at my ass, it's got fabric on it."

Liquorice Black reaches out and places a hand on her stomach, feeling it with her fingers, and then her palm giving it gentle strokes. It would swell with time, and the young teen would grow a childbearing figure - her puppies far smaller than the foals she would have otherwise mothered, and that was good, as the little bitch would get to keep her gorgeous figure even after providing young. She slowly walks around, keeping that palm flat against her body as it slips from stomach to waist, to her back.. A slight pause. She examines the way that tail's constantly aloft, pondering how best she could ensure that it always stayed that way - lifted in a submissive stance, showing off her recently cum-streaked lips to all the customers in store. Maybe some sort of attachment to her collar, or a ring at its base? She made a mental note to braid it in an exquisitely fine pattern next time her mare slept. Perhaps she might enjoy vestiges of her old life as a normal girl. Her designer skirt and damp underwear may show others how far she'd fallen. Claws start to work through them, shredding each to ribbons, letting them flutter in a heap. No modesty for a slave; no signs of what they were. She was owned now and to be moulded into something new, something filthy. The only clothes she'd need were her leather cuffs, collar, and the damp ball gag in her mouth. "Now present." She commands, swatting her bottom with the leash-strap again. "Face down, ass up. I wanna see that puss of yours beggin' for it."

Fairglen Anatra doesn't mourn her clothing a bit. They leave her with all the care of a hamster that happens to eat its young. Maybe less. Her body tenses up when she's swatted, and she bends over as far as she can, which is impressive. She's agile - limber, even - and she reaches for the floor, successfully grabbing at her hooves even with her legs together as they are. She points her nose as far as the floor as she can, feeling the weight of the fresh piercing in her sensitive nose, light though it is. Her tail, however, takes the place of her upper body in position. The glossy platinum fountain of hair points straight up at the base, the rest of it cascading down almost at random. The cum-streaked honey valley, nestled between chocolate hills and mountains of butterscotch pelt over smooth, firm flesh, stays at its most prominent. Even when she's not winking, her eager box is slightly open just a bit. When it does wink, it's akin to holding herself open with her fingers, offering herself in a pose reserved for the most lurid of pictures.

Liquorice Black absolutely loves it. She loves it so much that she tosses the leash over her neck and steps back over to the camera, resting the lens cap just out of shot, in the fountain of blonde currently pointing towards the ceiling. She takes her time, taking many shots of that glorious seed-leaking slot that seems to be beckoning her back for another fuck. She gets all artsy with shallow depth of field, and then takes base pictures that appeal to the primal urges of all creatures with stiff fucksticks, catering for the different websites she'll be plastering the high-res copies on later. It elicits a little laugh as she quietly wonders if past lovers or ever her father might stumble across the snaps and recognize her juicy little rear end. The camera gets stored away once again, and she abruptly jams her thumb into that winking fuckhole, digging inside to dislodge a few puddles of puppy sperm, still warm, if a little stickier and congealed. "What a cunt...." She sighs, before digging her finger out and slapping the globe of her right ass-cheek with her palm. "Stand!" Liquorice walks slowly back around, thumb lodged in her mouth as she sucks it clean, not a stranger to her own juice.

Fairglen Anatra holds her position with the stillness, yet the utter smoldering eroticism - as if a nude, gorgeous mare needs any more - of a practiced photogenic subject. Her sweet milking sleeve relaxes on and off, offering a bit of variety to the pictures in the wide winks and the slightly pursed, sultry offering of her pose. Depending on which happens first, her father is likely to reveal her new occupation and/or location to her mother. Though whether or not he pops in to partake of his whorish little girl is to be seen. After all, hers is not to ask why. Hers it so do, over and over again. She stands, as ordered, back in her prior position. Her tail droops as she rests it, dark nipples pert and saluting as her hands can't quite manage.

Liquorice Black looks between collar and nose ring several times, trying to decide which one to snap the leash on to. She finally settles on the collar, clipping it on in a single, practiced motion, letting the chain run through her hands in its entirety before she starts to walk on, allowing it to tighten if she stands still for too long like an idle moron. "Come." She demands, more of a bark than spoken word, allowing the filly to see that her owner can be short and sharp at times, giving her a little contrast for the adoring fawning she'd likely receive later whilst tied to the base of her throbbing dog meat. Regular customers to Midnight Heat know that they should expect the owner to walk around in all states of dress, including nudity, and the new customers warm up to the idea quite quickly too. She parades the girl out into the empty store, down a flight of stairs, and back to the counter she'd been bent over hours prior. "You're resigned to your new life, marecunt? You know that your parents will never receive you with a child, and that your friends will reject you for your submission to me? You realize that your school will turn their nose up at a common street-slut, and that everyone you know will judge you for being who you are?" She stands to face her finally, stopping by the cash register, lifting to gently caress her cheek. "Only I can look after you now. You must always do as I day, and I will care for you. Understand, slave?"

Fairglen Anatra trots right along, following the leash as much as her owner. While she's a common sight running around the shop without any sort of clothes save a smile and a throbbing erection, Fairglen is a recent addition. As the nude, brand new toy - still with that fresh out of the package smell - stands next to the counter, she looks at Liq, ears forward and at attention. The words sink in, her musk-induced haze at a low end. Her face scrunches up with a bit of despair, knowing it's all gone, right down to her clothes. Even if her parents would accept her, her job wouldn't, and she had no aspirations beyond that. Given how on top of everything Liq is, she immediately assumes her Mistress has the right angle, dismissing her own hope in favor of the affection she now knows is guaranteed. The stroke on her cheek makes every part of her lift, it seems, smile to eyes to ears. She nods, trying to offer a little smile through her gag. Her mane tosses as she does, adding a little flourish to her most basic of motions. It's like she's been trained to dispense glitter with her heartbeat; no movement is unremarkable, even if it's just a little inefficient.

Liquorice Black smiles back, her teeth showing in what turns out to be something of a mixed grin, half sweet, half devilish. She had this cum-hungry mare under her thumb, right where she wanted her to be. Elated by her simple comforts, and crushed by the thought that the people who used to loved her (and probably still would, at this moment) would now turn her away and reject her. Only papa Anatra, or her buff male cousins would want anything to do with her now, and there was little doubt that Liquorice would be able to somehow get the word worming its way over to them in due time, planting little seeds of lust for their former daughter and cousin, videos of her spunked up, twitching marecunt sent over daily with special family discounts attached. The hand caresses her cheek a moment longer, toying with the hair by her temples, glides over her muzzle, and then to her lips. Fingers hook into her fresh (and ever so slightly bloody) piercing, giving it a soft, gentle pull towards her. No, not towards her, down...down...down..down till she was standing almost at a right angle requiring perfect poise to stand upright and maintain the bend. Click! The nose-ring is affixed to a slight depression in the tabletop, latching her to its surface securely. "How do you feel?" She asks, stroking over her hair, as if nothing had happened.

Fairglen Anatra flits her eyes up to Liq, then down to the finger, crossing her eyes curiously, and only notices the depression in the counter until she's latched into it. Her ass is out, her hands beneath her, and she glances up at Liq with one eye, hooves shifting so she can establish some semblance of balance. Her breasts rest on the wooden surface, at the very least providing a support for her ample chest. Can't have such fine mounds sagging so early in her life, after all. Without a voice thanks to the gag, she simply gives her tail a swish. One side, then another, then lifts it up to make sure her glistening, cleft is visible and easily seen by everyone who passes, particularly her Mistress.

Fairglen Anatra actually sets about being hitched, and that's exactly what she is by any stretch of the imagination, with the natural stretching of any mare. She steps in place, practically digging her hooves into the floor so she's steady. With her wrists bound as they are, she can reach back between her legs and stroke idly at the top of her mound, tugging down on the inviting cuntflesh like a slutty little tease. While it's pleasant, it's not quite a searing hot cock hilted inside her and a pair of hips pushing against her shapely ass. It does, however, get a nice bead of fluid dripping off her clit. It's a fine little activity for the mare, keeping herself slick and ready while offering a show to the patrons. Besides all the obvious sexual applications, it's sure to increase foot traffic and word of mouth.

Liquorice Black had closed doors while she was breaking the mare in earlier. There was no use having the place open and he mare tied down if she couldn't fully enjoy her completely uninterrupted. "Good girl." She praises, stroking her warm, dark hand along her muzzle, into blonde-bimbo hair, and on to her shoulder. Just perfect, the little dick-slut was thrusting her pouting, greasy little lips out and getting the creamy pink of their insides showing without the slightest prompt. She'd be a great attraction, something for customers to mount and ream while they waited in line to pay for their goods - her mind lingering on the thought of one of her regular stallion males making increasingly often visits to the store to get his fuck on with this bitch's ripe and ready cunt. She walks along the bend of her body, trailing fingers down her spine, tugging her tail lightly. "Lift it. High. Straight up." Her fingers are curled around its base, making sure the root points towards the ceiling before letting go. Mm....That slit's still dripping, drooling. The hot, virile dog spunk up inside her still slowly finding creases to leak from.

Fairglen Anatra sticks her tongue out the corner of her mouth as she tries to get her tail just right on feel alone. The tug helps, in its own way, and she tries her best to get all the hair, and not just some, moving to any one side or up along her back. It wouldn't do to have it looking like an indecisive coral polyp or to be in the way of her tasty cunt, after all. It takes a couple flicks of particular muscles and she takes her hands away from her slit to brace them against her thighs while she concentrates, but eventually, she's got it up in the proper, straight manner with the long hair tracing over her left hip like a beatnik's hair, sans beret. It's hard doing things without looking, thanks to the ring in her nose holding her down, but it's not unlike posing for certain pictures; always the person with the idea prodding and tweaking until the stance is just right. In this case, it's a very welcome prodding that gives just the right light on her shiny, pre-fucked puss so the beads of semen contrast nicely off her dark mound and even manage to stand out in the fur on her thighs.

Liquorice Black admires the sight of those meaty, fuckable hams, clapping a hand over her backside to squeeze and tug, getting her trotting from side to side till she's stood at a right angle to the desk, moving her body about with fingers sunk into her behind. "Stay!" she teases, knowing full well that she didn't have much of a choice, bound to the counter top by a sensitive new piercing. Dexterous fingers get to work separating blonde tail hair into ropes, gently twisting them to bind each together into a golden cord, each passed between another, up and over. She works silently, and is only hindered by the odd strand slipping from her fingers as the accumulated fucksauce clinging to it proves to be too much to hold on to. By the end of things, at least eight inches of tail hair is left braided, the remainder loose and free to sway like a pom-pom. "There.. Try now." She encourages, warming a couple fingers inside of the girl's available, dripping slit, gently finger-fucking her. "I want this hot little puss' of mine on display at all times. Mm...you wanna work the shop floor so badly? I'll let the shop floor work you."

Fairglen Anatra has no idea what she's doing, but it feels...interesting. Less interesting than being groped by her owner like an orange in the fruit section, to be sure, but interesting nonetheless. Her next order almost gets followed before the spice of having fingers shoved in her gooey cum slot, but a surprised, abrupt hum and a twitching of her ears doesn't stop Fair from swaying her newly-tamed tail in the appropriate direction. It flops over, following her spine while the ends brush over her back with much more ease than before thanks to the careful braiding. It's lucky she only takes one try, because the way her greased up tunnel reacts, there's not much mental space left for another. It gives a welcoming squeeze - an attempt at a handshake, perhaps - with a squish generally reserved for the entrance of a cock each time Liq's fingers move through her heated entrance.

Liquorice Black is a lady of class, or at least one with an eye for good design. How else was she going to sell sex toys at a ridiculous mark-up if she didn't know when to turn away the ugly ones so as to make the rest of her stock look all the more classy? Sure, the tiny little trimmer she retrieves from the counter top (used for neatening sticky, matted fur after particularly messy romps by the till) could be used to write all sorts of derogatory comments in the girl's beautiful, well-maintained fur, but she had more interesting plans than all that. People would be able to see she was an easy fuck and hungry for dick by the way she swayed her ass at them, but....Bzzzzzz. People would certainly now know who this young filly belonged to by the monogram "LB" shaved into her right shoulder blade, pink skin showing beneath chocolate pelt, flourishes like a calligraphic pen woven through the strands. She places the pen-sized shaver just within eyesight, and heads over towards the door - flipping the closed sign over, and unlocking the door.

Fairglen Anatra feels more than a little humiliated, but that would be the point, after all. The buzzing is greeted with a despairing whimper that almost sounds like she's being cut open outright. So proud is she, despite everything else, that she can't quite get over having some part of her body made...asymmetrical in such an unladylike way. Still, it's not an actual wound and she's left to complain to the counter top, her new, and closest, friend. And suddenly, it betrays her by offering a surface of solace to the shaver. She grits her teeth at it, quite angry at the new arrival. Just when she was getting a taste for horizontal planes.

Liquorice Black smiles to herself, checking the clock that hung just above the entrance. It was getting late now, and the evening rush of horny couples looking for an extra kick in their evening fun would soon be flooding inside, along with all the horny single men looking for something to help them masturbate to an incredible solo climax. Normally they'd head to the magazines, or the single-use masturbators to pick up something cheap and cheerful, but each would now be presented with a cheap, slippery marecunt on their way to pay. Liquorice heads back, sucking her fingers, and claps a hand across the gagged slut's behind. Oh right, the gag. This wasn't as much fun if she couldn't call out to all the strangers mounting her drippy slit, was it? She carefully unclasps it, pulling the spit-dribbling red orb out of the way. "Tell me how you feel, honeycunt. How does day-one in your new role as a Midnight Heat employee feel?"

Fairglen Anatra can stay on her hooves for hours if need be, and sometimes the need does, in fact, be. Like now. She keeps her tail up, but enjoys a rather undignified flexing of her jaw to make sure it's comfortable when it's closed now. "It feels good, Madame! Well, I mean, it doesn't feel any different than normal so far. Except being fucked. And being naked in public. And having something in my nose. That's weird." She doesn't mention the monogrammed bald spot on her back, but then, that doesn't register over the draft on her still-gooey marecunt, her womb being a pool of dogspunk being kept warm by her own body heat at this point. "I'm fine, though! I'll be the best, Madame. I'm~ good at standing in one spot and looking pretty." Her hands come up underneath her, bound as they are, and gently tweak each of her nipples in turn, getting a small warm current flowing through her body.

Liquorice Black wonders if the poor, sweet girl would send any more eggs tumbling out into the soup that would be piling up in her hot little womb over the next four hours. Felines were meant to induce ovulation by dragging those thick, fleshy barbs back through vaginal canals - maybe she'd give a mixed litter when the day finally came. Ooh, wouldn't that be fun? Having her take the young ones for a walk with several different species in their baby buggies - just another sign that the collared girl was slave to anyone with a throbbing dick. She leans down, gently nibbling over one of those sweet, flickering ears. "My customers are going to screw you, honey. One after the other. I want you to get a taste of what working in those rooms is going to be like. No matter how much you whine or bitch about it, I'm not going to stop them. You'll beg 'em for seconds, tell them they're bigger than the guy before them, and cry about how much you want them to spunk in your cunny."

Fairglen Anatra just might, if there's any felines to be had before the night is out. Naturally, she hasn't had any before since those are hard condoms to make and they might break any other ones. A few have spent some time in her mouth, but otherwise...."They..." The little filly pauses, realizing that she wasn't just some decoration. She's irritated at herself for being thick about it, but why think, after all, when there was such wonderful things to smell before? Her ears twitch, feeling the nibbling even when it's not necessarily happening. "Yes, Ma'am. I'll make sure they leave wanting to come back. " She murmurs, feeling her hot chocolate snatch purse inside at the thought and the admission. "Is there a minimum purchase, or do I just let them on for fun?" She's nothing if not professional, and Liq did say "customers" specifically.

Liquorice Black shakes her head. "So long as they buy something - hell. They could be buyin' a box of condoms to use on their wife at home, and still get a turn blasting their load inside your little cunny, hon'." She stands upright again, and then circles the counter to take a seat facing her nosering-bound fuckslave, legs crossed over one another as she perches on the stool. "It's already late evening, so this'll be a taster of what working in the rooms downstairs is like, where you'll be spread all day." She retrieves a nail-file, talking casually about the girl's new life, one that had been decided for her as soon as those nostrils were wedged up between the mutt's sweaty thighs. "'Course, you'll spend lunch breaks with me."

Fairglen Anatra whimpers, partially giving a small whinny at that, and finds a new resting place for her hands. Specifically, she strokes them down the front of one thigh to rest just above her knee. "I'm not going to get a moment's rest, am I, Mistress?" She asks, showing more than a little of what is either vanity or resignation or both at the idea of being a ready cum bucket for the patronage at the front counter and a middle class whore as a day job. The idea of getting lunch breaks, however, perks her right up. She'd be standing up straight if it wasn't for the nose ring, and she almost does despite it - the metal tugging on her septum reminds her just why she's bent over still. "Do I get real lunch, or will it be all liquids?"

Liquorice Black ponders, what would be best for a girl like this? A prim and proper high-class model that she's aiming to knock the stool from beneath to make her hit rock bottom? "You'll get real food, we need to keep you in shape though, so I'll be monitoring everything you eat, and have one of my other playthings help prepare it for you." Maybe a little special sauce squirted over her sandwiches, or a salty, spicy salad dressing over her daily greens? Hell, she could even add a dash of addictive agent to that hot, sloppy, stringy sauce to keep her wanting more and more of it, slowly and secretly getting her trained on the taste of puppyjism till she craved it every minute of the day. That'd certainly come in handy for when the mare started to show the signs of pregnancy - she wouldn't be able to work the floor as easily, but having her huddled beneath the desk sucking cream right from the tap was certainly an option. The bell above the door chimes. A stallion and buck enter and immediately head for the pornography.

Fairglen Anatra can't nod, so she gives a simply reply in the form of "Yes, Mistress. I'm very good about my food, usually. I've never failed a weigh in." Her body vouches for that, to be sure. She even looks a little disappointed at the idea that she's not going to be drinking naught but hot dog spunk all hours of the day, so proper saucing of her food is the best she can hope for until she's inevitably the slavering cum fiend that she's being trained to be. When the door chimes, her ear flicks backwards, trying to get a read on who came in. She sniffs the air, and doesn't get much, still having the thick scent of musk jamming up her nose thanks to Liq's diligence. Her hands grip her thigh in anticipation, and she eyes her boss and owner, feeling a sharp, hot twinge from the cursory glance at her sultry indigo frame.

Liquorice Black puts down the nail file after trimming a few millimetres from each translucent claw tip, sharpening them up to fine points. Pooches like herself weren't particularly known for having sharp nails, but thanks to the biological marvel of the opposable thumb and the technological advances of nail files, she could get them as sharp as talons, perfect for impromptu piercings, or great long scratch marks over supple horse-flesh. The men seemed to be friends and milled around, laughing and nudging one another as they examined the backs of DVD cases. A couple enter now, two lapine lovers that stare in awe at the store before wandering towards the toys, the female of the couple catches the sight of an upturned blonde tail by the counter, and exclaims. "Holy shit! L...Look at that! Do they usually do that here?" There's a quiet murmur from the husband, and then they both laugh, going back to their shopping with blush-red cheeks. Liquorice leans down with a smile. "I think they noticed you. Make sure you ask for a fuck when they come an' pay."

Fairglen Anatra flushes about the ears, folded back as they are to hear most of what's being said. She doesn't have the best hearing, but it's not bad enough to miss the gist of it, especially the wife's comment. One comes forward for the express purpose of paying attention to her owner despite the reflexive need to shove her violet eyes into their corners in a vain attempt to see behind her. "Yes, Madame. I'll do my best." She murmurs, a small quiver in her voice. She's never worked retail before, and when the thing being retailed is her, in a way, the pressure increases. The lithe filly takes a deep, calming breath. Nothing to fear. It should be like selling water to the dehydrated after all. The couple, despite the order of arrival, gets to the counter first. Briefly, Fairglen wonders how to ask for such a thing, then settles on the best way she knows how. As the sex aides hit the counter, she keens out to the male. "Please, fuck me. I'm feeling empty. Just one big load of cum? Fast as you want, I promise it's all I want." She begs, using the classic "neighbor is out of sugar" angle.

Liquorice Black smirks, ringing up the various sex toys they present on the counter with a silent glance to her hungry little dick-slave. She'd have to learn that now she was easy to get, not everyone would want her. Perhaps in her former employment people would rush off to fulfill her every little desire, change their plans to meet her needs, and pull down their slacks when she fancied a dick to suck on. Not so now, no. Now that she was available for all and sundry to hump at, people might even find her unattractive, the dribbling load of puppyspunk drooling from her lips even showed that she'd be second hand merchandise. "I.. I'm going to go and make love to my fiancé!" he explains, reaching over to stroke her hair apologetically, the woman winding around to stare at her tail, and drooling slit, peeling her bottom apart with great curiosity.

Fairglen Anatra is offended! The nerve of some people! Yes, she's definitely in retail. Or is it the service industry? Either way, something about the male's spurning of her eager, and truth be told, earnest, request stings in a way that's erased nicely when his wife, of all people, has a closer look at her nethers. Granted, she'd had a couple fun times with the ladies, but her best nights were spent in the company of a cock. There's something to be said, though, for a set of slender fingers opening up her oozing, soft slit to observe the pink tunnel within. More's the pity, then, that she can't really tell right off who is touching her. The little bit of stimulation would make her wink, if she weren't already being opened. It does, however, make her exposed flesh purse lewdly for consideration. Fairglen can't see, but the refusal and the touch contrast, so she plays on the curiosity with all due haste. "But...you can have her any time. Just a little fuck? Please? I promise she won't vanish if you just see what a mare feels like."

Liquorice Black smirks, bagging up the items and laying them on the counter. The girl currently has her fingers dug into a brown bubble-butt, peeling just enough so that the mare's slit opens, drools, winks at her and breathes out hot, musky fumes. If anything, it's turning her on even more, and she lifts her hand away with a gentle stroke to poor Fairglen's tush, her arousal mounting by the second, and the need to go home and screw her husband becomes greater. She takes the male lapine by the wrist, nods a thanks to Liquorice, and drags him away. "Home, now! Gotta get you in bed, boy!" The other totters after her with a huge tent in his pants, obviously tempted by the blonde bombshell. Liquorice offers a gentle stroke to her blonde fringe. "Hey, you tried your best, right? 'Probably wouldn't have even felt that little bunny-prick stabbing you after you had me." She pauses, and looks up, and then back down. "This stud though.." Squuueeezzze. The flare of a stallion's drooling fuckstick starts peeling her sloppy folds apart, filling it exquisitely.

Fairglen Anatra actually whimpers a bit as she's petted - not by the customer, but by Liquorice - since she rather failed at successfully enticing a notoriously horny species. But that's in the past and there's a flared horsecock pushing into her dripping honey pot. Best to focus on the now, really. "Oh wow, ooh~!" She was sagging a bit in posture, feeling a little dejected. The sweet, musky meat pushing into her marecunt is a proper stimulant, bringing her right back to full attention and losing track of her words. They start flying out of her mouth before her brain can read them. "More, please! Pleasemore." A good, seductive line escapes her while she's drawing in a form-fitted stallion cock. It's the proper species to get the most out of her juicy hole, and her folds grip and tug at it instinctively. Every last bit of her pulls together in a completely inappropriate after school special about cooperation as it pertains to draining stallion cum. "Fuck me! Fuck me now!"

The stallion's already leaning over her with his hands on her shoulders, thrusting forward to make her little slit fart with cum, which elicits a little chuckle from Liquorice, who finds them funny, even mid-sex. The gentle, filling thrusts stay as just that whilst his cervine friend piles a good collection of pornography on to the counter, several of the dirty flicks featuring teenage mares that Fairglen could easily surpass in beauty contests. The silent, puss-hungry colt can't believe his luck, sheathing his impressively thick fuckpole in this gorgeous girl, stirring a previous load about her tight little pussy - no, not just fucking, actually being begged to do so, his tail lifting and hips jerking as he gets to roughly digging his drooling rod in her depths - the flare smashing over her cervix, bruising it.

Fairglen Anatra was simply enjoying the joy of having herself filled to brimming with juicy stallion fuckmeat, but the twinge of pain she gets when he hammers against the taut, abused base of her womb brings a startled, half-joyous gasp out of her mouth. She'd lift her head up as her eyes start to roll, but the ring in her nose leaves her simply moistening the counter with each panting breath. "Yes! God yes, right there! It all goes right there..." She trails off a bit as her dripping swamp of a crotch gets plumbed, her hands reaching out to grip the side of the counter, pushing back just enough to keep herself nice and even with the rod sliding around in her cum-soaked tunnel. Aside from her juices, more than a few beads of sticky white seed start to rest around his base, spreading the joy of that rich musk around to no immediate end.

Big boy's really getting in to it now, and his buddy's all paid up in less than a minute or two, chewing on a piece of cherry gum with one arm rested on the counter, simply watching the spectacle of this stranger getting boned hard and deep by his friend. Liquorice looks up to see how he's doing now and then, but otherwise busies herself with filling out a record book, noting down yesterday's sales and her fresh ones this morning. The thick, rubbery medial ring starts to flare up along with the mushroomed head of his bitch-taming tool as watery streams of precum slopp up her insides for a treat, making their fuck sound even sloppier and nastier, drawing a small audience to watch from afar. He lifts his head at last, and wheezes out to the shop's owner "S'it cool if I cum?" To which he receives a silent nod, invisible to the downwards facing eyes of the mare.

Fairglen Anatra isn't normally one to orgasm excessively, and her day is having something to say about that. In a fit of pleasure that's something to behold, her legs snap up in concert with a sharp squeal and her ankles lock behind the small of his back. She manages to make the counter creak as she holds herself balanced and in place on upper body strength and eager willpower. Her hips buck, stroking even while he stops, and a throbbing clench comes down across his drooling, flexing pole. She shakes both from exertion and the heady orgasm that works him over, practically forcing him to cum inside her if he wasn't already.

The stallion had no choice in the matter, grunting as he's captured by the girl's legs and drawn forward to mash his textured, flaring fucktip square against her creamy little babymaker hole. The first shot of sloppy, rich fuck-cream punches at the back of her womb as he starts to blast inside, his upper body giving a jerk of movement. "Unnh! Fuck!" Liquorice finally looks up, wiping a little of her own dickjuice across Fairglen's nostrils to keep her keen whilst being bred by one of her own kind. It would be interesting to see what sort of mix of children she'd come out with first. Maybe a mixed litter? The second ropey shot of sizzling seed comes with the added pressure of the colt laying flat against her back, bucking in time with her milking hip-wriggling; the third onwards getting whisked around her gooey insides by the hungry fucking, making the thick juice dribble down her bare inner thighs and audibly slap against the floor.

Fairglen Anatra was never one for raw strength, and by the time he's halfway through his release, her arms are giving. That and the precious scent of her owner's musk make her legs come off his ass and clop back down to the floor, spread like the lovely little slut she is. The needy filly would moan more, in fact, but she's less about breathing out and more about huffing through her nose as much as possible, snuffling at the seed spread over it. Equine mating being what it is, Fair's already overfull cunt takes in a fresh burst of seed, gets a nice second coat along her walls mixed with her own honey, and the rest starts making a right proper mess. The feeling of warm cum splashing over the insides of her legs renews her climax, if only for a bit, and she flexes inside along with it. It's the last squeeze she manages before the flow stops and her hot stud flops out, but it'll keep his hand busy for months.

The big boy takes a few steps back, his prick held in her vice-grip pussy right until the last three inches, where it streaks a fat line of seed against the front of the counter-top, grazing Fairglen's thighs on its heavy swing down. "Dude...." He grunts to his cervine buddy, stroking his balls to try and soothe their empty ache. "Want a turn?" He chuckles, glancing back at the girl's cum smothered lips and milky thighs. The buck rolls his eyes and grabs at the bag of pornography, heading out of the store. Stallion graciously slaps a few coins down on the counter as a tip, less than a whore would get for sucking a little dick. "Hey, thanks! I'll be back for her some time." He promises, looking at her downturned face as he heads towards the rest-rooms to clean himself off, jeans slung over his shoulders. Liquorice bends down, reaching under to give the girl's throat a little tickle. "Good girl, good girl.. See how easy that was? You can do that, right? Easy job for a dumb bimbo like you."

Fairglen Anatra is one thing to see from the front or the side, but from the back? She an open toy, and a used one at that. When he's out of her, she makes a few shots worth of mess below her forcibly bloomed flower. Fair hums, or purrs, a bit as Liquorice deigns to stroke her, those violet eyes glancing up at the smoldering smut peddler. "Mmhmm. Yes," She murmurs, lacking nodding distance, "I can do it. All the time. It's...more fun than bending around for a pose. I think I need to be more convincing, though. One out of four? Lousy." She's speaking with the slow, steady clarity of someone either drunk or high or incredibly sleep-deprived - in her case, fucked silly and swimming in a pool of hormones - and manages to still be a perfectionist. Her braided tail wiggles a bit, trying to swish as it normally did after a male left his place behind her, and she curls each leg in turn, stretching them out with a lazy, cum-soaked sort of grace.

At this point, most would have the decency to either cover up the jism-soaked mare, or remove her from the counter so that she didn't frighten off potential customers with more timid personalities. "Hey, it's still early, and we stay open till ten, so you'll have plenty chance to exercise your begging techniques, kid." She wanders around the filly's bent-over body, shaking a spray bottle in her hand as she comes to face that drenched set of teenage petals, hosing them down with a mist of water. In her other hand's a wide, absorbent cloth, which she roughly applies to the stains she'd accumulated, wiping her off till she looked almost respectable again - just a creamy ring of sperm clinging to her hole testament to the double loads she'd taken during the morning and afternoon. Even her gorgeous show-girl legs get bathed and wiped off, excess sperm splattered to the flood in cooled off wads. Decisions decisions....Clip! The nose ring comes free with a little handiwork from the pooch, allowing her to stand upright for the first time in at least an hour. "Clean your mess up."

Fairglen Anatra has the indecency to squirm as she's cleaned up. After all, it's 1: The Mistress's hand doing the work and 2: All the best parts to play with, fresh from a hot and heavy rutting. "Maybe if I tried selling it, instead of begging." She muses aloud in the mean time. Given her state, her mind would be in a museum if it were a computer. The stretch she enjoyed goes full body when she's allowed to stand up. Not that she's disobeying orders or slacking, but a good stretch moves overpriced underwear, and porn is much cheaper. The moment her body starts to relax from the tension, however, she dives to the floor. Breasts drooping beneath her, nipples brushing against the surface, she laps decadently at the spots and pools of cum. In places where there's enough, she plants her lips and sucks it up before swallowing wholesale.

Liquorice Black mirrors those first few minutes the pair had met, planting her foot on the back of her head to force the girl down, grazing her teeth against the floor, drowning her nostrils in heavy wads of sweet smelling sperm. "Selling yourself ain't gonna work just yet, kid." She corrects. "Not good enough to start earning money till you can seduce every fat dick that walks through those doors. I'm gonna let you wander for the rest of the evening - see how many men you can seduce and take down-stairs to one of the fuck rooms. There's a bed, some lube, and a pile of towels for you to use. Should be a nice n' easy task to start with, don't you think?" Of course, Liquorice would neglect to mention the cameras hidden in recesses, behind shelves, inside light fittings - those would make her a pretty penny, once she sold the footage to some amateur porn sites.

Fairglen Anatra has her ears neatly pushed back so she can hear everything the indigo pup has to say, as is duly respectful. It doesn't stop her, of course, and the mare-shaped cum vacuum finishes while her mind mulls over the best possible way to handle any of the men in the shop. Being the sort of store it is, turnover is her best friend. Anyone who didn't watch her get fucked won't necessarily know she has been, if that's their problem, and the ones that don't care just need to be found before they leave. "Yes, Ma'am. I'll get right on it." She offers, only needing the paw removed from the back of her head to get to work. It's all about finding the ones that look at her just so. Like they really, really want to fuck her. Or the ones that keep looking and hunch over to hide their hard-on. No tent and an occasional disinterested glance? No. And any men browsing the gay porn section. Females, maybe, sparse as they are, but she's not cold-calling a butt boi for her own ego. She's at least that smart.

Liquorice Black only lifts her foot once every last drop of steaming jism is lifted from the cool floor below, either mopped up by her tongue or smeared across her model-like features. Toes play across her neck in a parting gesture, before canine turns about and gets back on with business. A few shelves needed restocking, and it was far more cost-effective to get the new girl to flaunt her ass and get a few new repeat-customers than it was to have her lining jelly dildos up. There's a fine selection of men by now, a few that had watched the mare dicked by her stallion lover, and a small group of new ones that seemed familiar with the store, yet unfamiliar with its newest employee. Everything from drakes to bulls, from tigers to iguanas - a whole gamut of exotic dick for sweet Fairglen to try out.

Fairglen Anatra is only defeated by her indecision. It's like being double-booked for every single minute of her day. After the few seconds of overwhelmed hesitation following her release from the floor - a fine spot of matted fur from soaking up sweet horse jizz - Fair slips into her cool lady routine and starts to strut around the ranks of assembled males. Sure, they should know she's available and as easy as they come, so to speak, but she still acts like it's her choice who she's fucking. Ogling the lot of them like cars, her fingers slip over tails and brush against hips while her bound tail bobs behind her. It's hard work, strutting with a pussy so intent on throbbing constantly, but the occasional twitch gets her gasping, and heaving breasts bring the eyes. A few words roll out in murmurs, just loud enough for a few others to hear, but still soft enough to be a genuine tease as she hovers from to the other. "Come on. Don't be shy. You only lose if you don't step up." The drake gets a soft nip at the back of his jaw, and the tiger gets close brush that leaves a bit of her scent from the pelt on her mons settling on his leg.", "pools_count": 1, "title": "The new employee", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "3", "views": "1871" }