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is never a good thing. Waking up with a headache and handcuffs is worse.\n\nA commission for Gino. You can find stories like this and more early over on my [url=https://www.patreon.com/c/Ralanrwrites]Patreon[/url] and/or [url=https://subscribestar.adult/ralanr]Subscribestar[/url]. High tiers have access to discounts on future commissions. \n\nEnjoy!", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Waking up with a headache is never a good thing. Waking up with a headache and handcuffs is worse.

A commission for Gino. You can find stories like this and more early over on my Patreon and/or Subscribestar. High tiers have access to discounts on future commissions.

Enjoy!", "writing": "Stephanie’s jaw ached. It wasn’t the first time she’d woken with a stiff feeling around her head. Hours late partying and enjoying her fill of eager lays made most mornings worth it. Today seemed particularly egregious, as if her mouth had been locked in a position for hours and refused to close. \n\n\nThe lioness yawned. Her jaw refused to move. Her tongue shot forward, tasting rubber in a spherical shape. To avoid waking up further she tried reaching for it. Her arms refused to move. In fact, they were aching behind her back. \n\n\nSlowly she opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry, leaving her to rely on scent as it cleared. The lavender soaps of her hotel room were vacant, replaced by something so pungent and sharp it twisted her face. Its familiarity came quickly, reminding her of any unwashed cock or cooch she’d been unfortunate enough to face in an orgy. \n\n\nInstead of a comfy bed with red quilts, the lioness found herself laid out on a bare mattress. Cold chains braced her naked body. They locked her hands behind her back and wrapped around her ankles. She called out for answers, finding her voice muffled by a thick ballgag locked in by tight leather straps shaped into a harness across her face.\n\n\nIt turned her screams into incoherent grunts. The lioness thrashed, rolling around in her bindings. One chain latched her to the wall, so taut she couldn’t twist off the cot. It didn’t take long for her to realize she wasn’t slipping out. It took longer for her to stop trying. \n\n\nThe concrete foundations of her new room reverberated her attempts to escape. From the single bulb hanging over her, she noticed the walls were free of any marking beyond the decay of time with cracked stone and rusty pipes that shivered with work. The only color she could spot was a faded red metal door across from her that had no knob on the inside, nor a window to look in or out. \n\n\nStephanie gulped. She replayed the events leading up to her predicament. The lioness took a long vacation to a canine country, hoping to enjoy its mountain range for a ski trip and delightful company. It’d started well enough with high slopes, cool weather, and delightful company she rotated out each night. The local bars were packed for choice with one-night stands. \n\n\nHer most recent was a blur. They were a canine, she remembered that by the knotted dick, but the other details failed to find purchase. Were they short-furred or did they have a thick coat? A nubby tail or long? Endless details flooded her mind and nothing seemed to fit. \n\n\nStephanie’s ears perked as a deadbolt was yanked open. She eyed the door, wincing at the creak of rusted hinges echoing off the walls. A single canine entered, a rottweiler with an athletic body and a scar under his chin. She recognized him instantly, though her memory had no recollection of him being naked or of the thick leather collar strapped around his neck. \n\n\nIn different circumstances, she would enjoy the sight. He’d been one of the many suitors pining after her in a bar. She couldn’t quite pinpoint if his name was James or John. The memories came slowly. The terrible pun he said with confidence, the pitch of his ears when he listened, and the subtle grin he gave when she peered at his crotch. A cut above the rest, as she had put it while caressing his thigh. And yet what came after was fuzzy. There were drinks, surely, and they must have entered her hotel room. \n\n\nNo. No, they didn’t. Her lips raised with a growl, showing the sharp fangs locked behind the rubber ball. He didn’t wear a cocky smile in response, or act with brazen authority to put her in his place. Instead, his face remained impassive as he turned around, giving her a glimpse of his tail nub arched submissively down before vanishing. \n\n\nShe shouted after him. When that didn’t work, Stephanie wrestled with her chains as if her newfound fury could bend metal. Unfortunately, it could not, and the sound of footsteps approaching trampled over her furious fire. \n\n\nThe rottweiler returned with a corgi woman that he utterly dwarfed. Unlike him, she wore an extravagant red dress with a furry scarf coiled around her neck, better emphasizing her chest fluff between her breasts. Upon seeing Stephanie, she smiled and snapped her fingers. The rottweiler unfurled a metal chair from the wall for her. The corgi raised her brow, tipped the chair over, and snapped her fingers again. He took the chair’s place, straining with her posterior on his back. \n\n\n“I love foreigners,” the corgi said casually as if the three of them were in a cafe. “Some come to this country for nature, lounging on our beaches or trekking through the mountains. Most, in my experience, come for the more physical pleasures.” She pets the rottweiler while speaking, referring to him by name when pulling his head up by his scruff, “Jeremiah tells me you’re the latter. You’ve enjoyed the night after night of the local dick here. Rarely just one. I don’t mean to sound like I’m slut shaming, but don’t you need to rest?” \n\n\nStephanie huffed. The corgi smiled. “I suppose that stamina will be helpful for your new job. To make things as clear and concise as possible, you are not a person anymore. You’re meat. Meat with holes meant to be filled by those looking for stress relief. Hard workers who spend over ten hours a day dealing with spoiled tourists. More importantly, you’re my meat,” she sensually scratches behind the rottweiler’s ears, “And as Jeremiah can tell you, I take care of my meat. So long as they know their place and keep me happy. Do you know your place, meat?”\n\n\nThe corgi pushed Stephanie’s face into the mattress with her heel before the lioness could even grunt. She growled and flailed in her bondage, but the heel would not budge. “You will address me as Madame Roth when speaking to me. Is that clear, meat?” \n\n\nFor a moment Stephanie lay silent, considering her options. She’d made no headway in removing her restraints and the pressure from the corgi’s shoe was beginning to hurt. She wouldn’t put it past the bitch to hurt her for compliance. Seeing no other choice, the lioness muttered the corgi’s name through her gag, title, and all.\n\n\nThe Corgi snapped her fingers. Her rottweiler seat stood up and went around the lioness. He pulled Stephanie up by her headfur and held her in a headlock, unlatching the gag as far away from her mouth as possible. Her jaw ached in relief, but the corgi’s patience wore thin.\n\n\n“Say it.” Madame Roth demanded. \n\n\nStephanie stared at her kidnapper as though she could gut her there. “It is clear, Madame Roth.”\n\n\nThe smile across her lips seemed uncanny like a mask slipped on. “Excellent. But to be on the safe side, we’ll need to break you in. Jeremiah, bring her to the wall.” \n\n\nJeremiah overpowered her, forcing a muzzle over her maw to keep her from snapping as he released her from the wall. Using her headfur as a leash the naked canine forced her forward, head down to keep her eyes on the floor through the hallway. It didn’t take long for her to hear muffled music and murmuring crowds. Hopes of help were shattered when she realized they were headed in that direction.\n\n\nRemixed pop music blanketed her ears. Canines dressed for clubbing filled her peripheral vision, masked by strobe lights and a sea of dancing bodies. The scent of sex permeated throughout, stinking her nose and wetting her eyes. She caught a few jeers directed toward her, the slurs for lions couldn’t be for anyone else. \n\n\nAfter a short flight of stairs, Stephanie found her neck pushed against rubber padding. Several hands held her in place so Jeremiah could unchain her arms and lock each into a pillory hole next to her head. Her ankles were secured to the floor, and something cold, metal, and bulbous penetrated her ass. \n\n\n“Stop struggling,” Jeremiah grabbed her flailing head, lifting it for a nose-hook to slip into her nostrils. He pulled it taut to keep her steady, locking it to a ring on the pillory, shared with another tight rope connected to whatever was lodged in her ass. “Bite me, and we’re getting a dentist for those teeth.” Nothing in his voice indicated a bluff, leaving Stephanie to keep her jaw slack. He replaced her gag with a large thin metal ring that spread her mouth as a perpetual roar, open to anyone who wished to use it. She saw interest lining up behind Jeremiah as he locked it in place. \n\n\n“You are meat.” The dog said, pressing his thumb against her tongue. “Nothing but holes. An object for everyone here. That’s the only truth in this place. Best you forget everything else you knew.” He spat over her face, then spanked her ass before leaving her at the mercy of others. She wasn’t alone for long. \n\n\nThe pull of a zipper caught her attention despite the music blanketing the room. A dalmatian with a smile and a red cock growing at the sight of her inched closer. The nose-hook kept her head still but her hands pulled at the restraints frantically. Her growls were met with laughter. \n\n\nTwo hands held her by the ears as his cock slipped inside. The pointed tip sank past her tongue and down her throat until the knot bumped her nose. He held it there. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Stephanie gagged, her eyes darting up with tearful mercy. \n\n\n“Sweet, this one still has her gag reflex.” The dalmatian pulled out and slammed back in. Heavy balls bounced against her chin with the ensuing thrusts, each focused on his pleasure and his alone regardless of her complaints. Spurred on by her sloppy wet gagging, the dalmatian grunted and then pulled out. Strands of white seed splattered across her face. She closed her eyes on reflex, refusing to open them when the dalmatian bid her farewell. \n\n\nThe salty aftertaste of his cock and seed stained her tastebuds. She could do nothing to wretch it clean though Stephanie tried with every flick of her tongue. \n\n\nA sheepdog walked past her. His heavy paws grabbed her flanks and gripped them tight. While not a virgin, Stephanie needed foreplay to get going. A kiss, a massage, some tongue action between her legs. The sheepdog offered none of these, penetrating her with all the eagerness of her first customer. \n\n\nAlready agape, her mouth hung in silence at the sheer size inside her. She thought it was a balled-up fist at first, but the pressure of his knot probed otherwise. He grunted with every thrust as if his shaggy fur weighed him down. Were it not for the sling, her legs would have given out. \n\n\nThen the knot slipped in. He tried once, then twice, then thrice to push it in, growling at each failure. One mighty push got it inside. Stephanie swore her cry broke through the club’s music but the cheers that followed were of little comfort. He filled her, locking in with his knot expanding. Her only solace came when he took a pill to deflate faster, but that just meant more guests. \n\n\nThe line to her stage lengthened with time. Some let impatience beat them out to find shorter lines for more experienced attractions, others remained patiently for their chance. Sometimes they came in pairs, one with her mouth and the other at her cunt, even going as far as switching once done. They filled her throat, strangled her with their knot, and pumped her pussy until she felt the excess dripping on the floor. The downside of impossible crossbreeding meant no one needed a condom. \n\n\n“Well, aren’t you a sorry sight?” A feminine voice said. A thumb cleared away the cum from her eyes, revealing a tall doberman woman with a fat cock between her legs. She smiled when the lioness’s eyes shrank. “Oh, don’t worry dear. I prefer being gentle. Would you like me to be gentle?” Stephanie raised a shaky thumb in lieu of nodding. The doberman smiled, grabbed her cock, and pressed it against the lioness’s nose. “If you show me some extra love and care, I’ll be gentle with you. Promise.”\n\n\nThe heat of her cock thrummed against Stephanie’s face. Every breath took it in against her will, mixing with the scent of countless others. Unable to move her head much, she instead pushed her tongue out to lap at the doberman’s shaft. Her new customer encouraged her throughout, keeping a tight hold on the lioness’s head as she coated her saliva over the entire member. \n\n\n“What a treat,” the doberman grinned, letting go and wiping her wet cock over Stephanie’s cheek. She bopped her dick across the lioness several times, humming to herself with glee to her plaything’s torment. “I suppose it’s time I make up my side of the deal.”\n\n\nThe doberman vanished from her view, revealing herself with the subtle trail of her nail along the lioness’s flank. Both hands clapped onto her cheeks, spreading them wide before circling the anal hook. Without warning she slowly pulled it out, ignoring the open-mouthed cries from the lioness. \n\n\n“I can’t believe no one bothered with this hole.” The doberman’s cockhead braced it. Stephanie quivered, but her lower body was too weak to clench. “Guys keep focusing on cunt. The better hole is right here. More for me.”\n\n\nTrue to her word the doberman was gentle. Whether Stephanie’s choice of hole mattered was another story. Having never done anal the lioness’s breaths sped up as the doberman slowly forced her way into her. Inch by unbearable inch that filled her asshole like a fist. \n\n\nThen came the thrusts. They were slow, deliberate as if the doberman wanted Stephanie to feel every part of the cock instead of her just being used like an onahole. An inch back, an inch in. Two inches back, two inches in. The doberman whispered the lengths, growling quietly as she lightly pulled the lioness’s nose hood back. \n\n\n“I like this ass,” she said quietly, close enough to gnaw at Stephanie’s ear. “It has…potential. Like a coal ready to be a diamond.” Her speed picked up, building a pattern that dug deeper for every inch pulled away. “I might have to pay the madam to have dibs on this ass. Make you my first stop whenever I’m visiting. Would you like that? I know I would. Nothing quite beats having some proud lion bitch as my anal whore.”\n\n\nThe thrusts came faster. The stocks rattled against the weight of her pistoning. Stephanie, against her desire, felt an orgasm brewing from the doberman’s onslaught. Her legs cramped when it came, with her juices spraying the floor as the doberman cried out, filling her but failing to plant her knot inside. \n\n\n“Yeah…” the doberman slapped her ass upon withdrawing, “We’ll need to train this hole. Get it nice and stretchy to take my entire knot.”\n\n\nStephanie hung her head, exhausted and weary from the ordeal. Shame crawled up her spine with how empty she felt without something in her ass. The doberman fixed that with the anal hook. “See you around, cutie.” left the stage with a kiss, moving aside for Stephanie’s next guest.\n\n\nThe line, it seemed, was endless.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Stephanie’s jaw ached. It wasn’t the first time she’d woken with a stiff feeling around her head. Hours late partying and enjoying her fill of eager lays made most mornings worth it. Today seemed particularly egregious, as if her mouth had been locked in a position for hours and refused to close.


The lioness yawned. Her jaw refused to move. Her tongue shot forward, tasting rubber in a spherical shape. To avoid waking up further she tried reaching for it. Her arms refused to move. In fact, they were aching behind her back.


Slowly she opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry, leaving her to rely on scent as it cleared. The lavender soaps of her hotel room were vacant, replaced by something so pungent and sharp it twisted her face. Its familiarity came quickly, reminding her of any unwashed cock or cooch she’d been unfortunate enough to face in an orgy.


Instead of a comfy bed with red quilts, the lioness found herself laid out on a bare mattress. Cold chains braced her naked body. They locked her hands behind her back and wrapped around her ankles. She called out for answers, finding her voice muffled by a thick ballgag locked in by tight leather straps shaped into a harness across her face.


It turned her screams into incoherent grunts. The lioness thrashed, rolling around in her bindings. One chain latched her to the wall, so taut she couldn’t twist off the cot. It didn’t take long for her to realize she wasn’t slipping out. It took longer for her to stop trying.


The concrete foundations of her new room reverberated her attempts to escape. From the single bulb hanging over her, she noticed the walls were free of any marking beyond the decay of time with cracked stone and rusty pipes that shivered with work. The only color she could spot was a faded red metal door across from her that had no knob on the inside, nor a window to look in or out.


Stephanie gulped. She replayed the events leading up to her predicament. The lioness took a long vacation to a canine country, hoping to enjoy its mountain range for a ski trip and delightful company. It’d started well enough with high slopes, cool weather, and delightful company she rotated out each night. The local bars were packed for choice with one-night stands.


Her most recent was a blur. They were a canine, she remembered that by the knotted dick, but the other details failed to find purchase. Were they short-furred or did they have a thick coat? A nubby tail or long? Endless details flooded her mind and nothing seemed to fit.


Stephanie’s ears perked as a deadbolt was yanked open. She eyed the door, wincing at the creak of rusted hinges echoing off the walls. A single canine entered, a rottweiler with an athletic body and a scar under his chin. She recognized him instantly, though her memory had no recollection of him being naked or of the thick leather collar strapped around his neck.


In different circumstances, she would enjoy the sight. He’d been one of the many suitors pining after her in a bar. She couldn’t quite pinpoint if his name was James or John. The memories came slowly. The terrible pun he said with confidence, the pitch of his ears when he listened, and the subtle grin he gave when she peered at his crotch. A cut above the rest, as she had put it while caressing his thigh. And yet what came after was fuzzy. There were drinks, surely, and they must have entered her hotel room.


No. No, they didn’t. Her lips raised with a growl, showing the sharp fangs locked behind the rubber ball. He didn’t wear a cocky smile in response, or act with brazen authority to put her in his place. Instead, his face remained impassive as he turned around, giving her a glimpse of his tail nub arched submissively down before vanishing.


She shouted after him. When that didn’t work, Stephanie wrestled with her chains as if her newfound fury could bend metal. Unfortunately, it could not, and the sound of footsteps approaching trampled over her furious fire.


The rottweiler returned with a corgi woman that he utterly dwarfed. Unlike him, she wore an extravagant red dress with a furry scarf coiled around her neck, better emphasizing her chest fluff between her breasts. Upon seeing Stephanie, she smiled and snapped her fingers. The rottweiler unfurled a metal chair from the wall for her. The corgi raised her brow, tipped the chair over, and snapped her fingers again. He took the chair’s place, straining with her posterior on his back.


“I love foreigners,” the corgi said casually as if the three of them were in a cafe. “Some come to this country for nature, lounging on our beaches or trekking through the mountains. Most, in my experience, come for the more physical pleasures.” She pets the rottweiler while speaking, referring to him by name when pulling his head up by his scruff, “Jeremiah tells me you’re the latter. You’ve enjoyed the night after night of the local dick here. Rarely just one. I don’t mean to sound like I’m slut shaming, but don’t you need to rest?”


Stephanie huffed. The corgi smiled. “I suppose that stamina will be helpful for your new job. To make things as clear and concise as possible, you are not a person anymore. You’re meat. Meat with holes meant to be filled by those looking for stress relief. Hard workers who spend over ten hours a day dealing with spoiled tourists. More importantly, you’re my meat,” she sensually scratches behind the rottweiler’s ears, “And as Jeremiah can tell you, I take care of my meat. So long as they know their place and keep me happy. Do you know your place, meat?”


The corgi pushed Stephanie’s face into the mattress with her heel before the lioness could even grunt. She growled and flailed in her bondage, but the heel would not budge. “You will address me as Madame Roth when speaking to me. Is that clear, meat?”


For a moment Stephanie lay silent, considering her options. She’d made no headway in removing her restraints and the pressure from the corgi’s shoe was beginning to hurt. She wouldn’t put it past the bitch to hurt her for compliance. Seeing no other choice, the lioness muttered the corgi’s name through her gag, title, and all.


The Corgi snapped her fingers. Her rottweiler seat stood up and went around the lioness. He pulled Stephanie up by her headfur and held her in a headlock, unlatching the gag as far away from her mouth as possible. Her jaw ached in relief, but the corgi’s patience wore thin.


“Say it.” Madame Roth demanded.


Stephanie stared at her kidnapper as though she could gut her there. “It is clear, Madame Roth.”


The smile across her lips seemed uncanny like a mask slipped on. “Excellent. But to be on the safe side, we’ll need to break you in. Jeremiah, bring her to the wall.”


Jeremiah overpowered her, forcing a muzzle over her maw to keep her from snapping as he released her from the wall. Using her headfur as a leash the naked canine forced her forward, head down to keep her eyes on the floor through the hallway. It didn’t take long for her to hear muffled music and murmuring crowds. Hopes of help were shattered when she realized they were headed in that direction.


Remixed pop music blanketed her ears. Canines dressed for clubbing filled her peripheral vision, masked by strobe lights and a sea of dancing bodies. The scent of sex permeated throughout, stinking her nose and wetting her eyes. She caught a few jeers directed toward her, the slurs for lions couldn’t be for anyone else.


After a short flight of stairs, Stephanie found her neck pushed against rubber padding. Several hands held her in place so Jeremiah could unchain her arms and lock each into a pillory hole next to her head. Her ankles were secured to the floor, and something cold, metal, and bulbous penetrated her ass.


“Stop struggling,” Jeremiah grabbed her flailing head, lifting it for a nose-hook to slip into her nostrils. He pulled it taut to keep her steady, locking it to a ring on the pillory, shared with another tight rope connected to whatever was lodged in her ass. “Bite me, and we’re getting a dentist for those teeth.” Nothing in his voice indicated a bluff, leaving Stephanie to keep her jaw slack. He replaced her gag with a large thin metal ring that spread her mouth as a perpetual roar, open to anyone who wished to use it. She saw interest lining up behind Jeremiah as he locked it in place.


“You are meat.” The dog said, pressing his thumb against her tongue. “Nothing but holes. An object for everyone here. That’s the only truth in this place. Best you forget everything else you knew.” He spat over her face, then spanked her ass before leaving her at the mercy of others. She wasn’t alone for long.


The pull of a zipper caught her attention despite the music blanketing the room. A dalmatian with a smile and a red cock growing at the sight of her inched closer. The nose-hook kept her head still but her hands pulled at the restraints frantically. Her growls were met with laughter.


Two hands held her by the ears as his cock slipped inside. The pointed tip sank past her tongue and down her throat until the knot bumped her nose. He held it there. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Stephanie gagged, her eyes darting up with tearful mercy.


“Sweet, this one still has her gag reflex.” The dalmatian pulled out and slammed back in. Heavy balls bounced against her chin with the ensuing thrusts, each focused on his pleasure and his alone regardless of her complaints. Spurred on by her sloppy wet gagging, the dalmatian grunted and then pulled out. Strands of white seed splattered across her face. She closed her eyes on reflex, refusing to open them when the dalmatian bid her farewell.


The salty aftertaste of his cock and seed stained her tastebuds. She could do nothing to wretch it clean though Stephanie tried with every flick of her tongue.


A sheepdog walked past her. His heavy paws grabbed her flanks and gripped them tight. While not a virgin, Stephanie needed foreplay to get going. A kiss, a massage, some tongue action between her legs. The sheepdog offered none of these, penetrating her with all the eagerness of her first customer.


Already agape, her mouth hung in silence at the sheer size inside her. She thought it was a balled-up fist at first, but the pressure of his knot probed otherwise. He grunted with every thrust as if his shaggy fur weighed him down. Were it not for the sling, her legs would have given out.


Then the knot slipped in. He tried once, then twice, then thrice to push it in, growling at each failure. One mighty push got it inside. Stephanie swore her cry broke through the club’s music but the cheers that followed were of little comfort. He filled her, locking in with his knot expanding. Her only solace came when he took a pill to deflate faster, but that just meant more guests.


The line to her stage lengthened with time. Some let impatience beat them out to find shorter lines for more experienced attractions, others remained patiently for their chance. Sometimes they came in pairs, one with her mouth and the other at her cunt, even going as far as switching once done. They filled her throat, strangled her with their knot, and pumped her pussy until she felt the excess dripping on the floor. The downside of impossible crossbreeding meant no one needed a condom.


“Well, aren’t you a sorry sight?” A feminine voice said. A thumb cleared away the cum from her eyes, revealing a tall doberman woman with a fat cock between her legs. She smiled when the lioness’s eyes shrank. “Oh, don’t worry dear. I prefer being gentle. Would you like me to be gentle?” Stephanie raised a shaky thumb in lieu of nodding. The doberman smiled, grabbed her cock, and pressed it against the lioness’s nose. “If you show me some extra love and care, I’ll be gentle with you. Promise.”


The heat of her cock thrummed against Stephanie’s face. Every breath took it in against her will, mixing with the scent of countless others. Unable to move her head much, she instead pushed her tongue out to lap at the doberman’s shaft. Her new customer encouraged her throughout, keeping a tight hold on the lioness’s head as she coated her saliva over the entire member.


“What a treat,” the doberman grinned, letting go and wiping her wet cock over Stephanie’s cheek. She bopped her dick across the lioness several times, humming to herself with glee to her plaything’s torment. “I suppose it’s time I make up my side of the deal.”


The doberman vanished from her view, revealing herself with the subtle trail of her nail along the lioness’s flank. Both hands clapped onto her cheeks, spreading them wide before circling the anal hook. Without warning she slowly pulled it out, ignoring the open-mouthed cries from the lioness.


“I can’t believe no one bothered with this hole.” The doberman’s cockhead braced it. Stephanie quivered, but her lower body was too weak to clench. “Guys keep focusing on cunt. The better hole is right here. More for me.”


True to her word the doberman was gentle. Whether Stephanie’s choice of hole mattered was another story. Having never done anal the lioness’s breaths sped up as the doberman slowly forced her way into her. Inch by unbearable inch that filled her asshole like a fist.


Then came the thrusts. They were slow, deliberate as if the doberman wanted Stephanie to feel every part of the cock instead of her just being used like an onahole. An inch back, an inch in. Two inches back, two inches in. The doberman whispered the lengths, growling quietly as she lightly pulled the lioness’s nose hood back.


“I like this ass,” she said quietly, close enough to gnaw at Stephanie’s ear. “It has…potential. Like a coal ready to be a diamond.” Her speed picked up, building a pattern that dug deeper for every inch pulled away. “I might have to pay the madam to have dibs on this ass. Make you my first stop whenever I’m visiting. Would you like that? I know I would. Nothing quite beats having some proud lion bitch as my anal whore.”


The thrusts came faster. The stocks rattled against the weight of her pistoning. Stephanie, against her desire, felt an orgasm brewing from the doberman’s onslaught. Her legs cramped when it came, with her juices spraying the floor as the doberman cried out, filling her but failing to plant her knot inside.


“Yeah…” the doberman slapped her ass upon withdrawing, “We’ll need to train this hole. Get it nice and stretchy to take my entire knot.”


Stephanie hung her head, exhausted and weary from the ordeal. Shame crawled up her spine with how empty she felt without something in her ass. The doberman fixed that with the anal hook. “See you around, cutie.” left the stage with a kiss, moving aside for Stephanie’s next guest.


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