“Hold still!” Raro commanded, shaking the anointing dye from his hand. “You know this won't wash off if I mess up!” The only response he got in return was a muffled, almost polite-sounding bark from somewhere above his head before a large, flat tongue unexpectedly dragged itself through the top of his mane. The lick carried enough force to knock the young lion off balance. He snarled, baring his fangs as his fingers were once again removed from the wooden dye-bowl, splattering the hide walls of his abode with bright red. The bowl itself thankfully wobbled to a halt right-side up, the substance inside viscous and thick enough to keep it from tipping over.
	
	The lion swore loudly, quickly cupping a hand over the bowl to keep it steady. “Arca!” he roared, “Convocation is at dusk, and I'm not even done with your legs yet!” 
	
	The four-legged 'canvas' made an apologetic whine, tilting her head. She didn't know what all the fuss was about - she was a dog.
	
	But Arca was not just any canine. She was a Sacred Hound, descended directly from the legendary hunting animals used by the Goddess of the Hunt herself. At least that was how the old stories went. Arca's size certainly lent credence to the theory that her species was at least partially divine in nature. On her haunches, she was more than five feet tall, just a head shorter than her partner. Her coat was a uniform tan colour, similar to the tawny coat of the leonin with whom she lived. A pictogram representing speed and fleetness of foot had been painstakingly painted into her left thigh. Ideally, when the night was through, she would have many similar markings covering her body.
	
	“Sit,” Raro commanded as he collected himself. Arca shuffled her feet in place impatiently. She hated waiting, and Raro knew it. He reached up to give her a scratch behind the ear, and dipped his finger into the carved wooden bowl again, dragging the wet, red fingers into her thick coat. The symbols had to be perfect. Once rubbed on, they were indelible. Such was the magic inherent in the anointing dye. Or maybe it was Arca's coat that was magic. Raro didn't know. All he knew was that if he messed up, the kennel-master would bar the both of them from convocation, and they would be split up. And that would break Raro's heart. But try as he might, explaining that to his enormous puppy of a cohort was impossible. 
	
	The leonin was forced to repeat his command almost every few seconds. Arca shuffled, pleaded, and thumped her tail cautiously against the floor, but every time she so much as twitched, Raro responded with a warning growl. He had to keep at least one hand on her at all times, or he feared she'd fly off the handle as soon as she thought he was done. 
	
	At last, the final line of the pictogram was rubbed into her muscular leg. “Finally,” Raro muttered, placing the anointing bowl on a high shelf for a moment as he pondered where to tackle next. As a hunter, she would need power and strength represented on both her forepaws as well as around her jawline, in addition to the same glyph that dominated her hind legs faithfully reproduced on her forelegs. She wouldn't want one set of legs faster than the other! The leonin dipped his finger into the dye once again and was about to resume his work when he heard the swish of tanned hide being pushed aside. 
	
	“Yes?” Raro asked his visitor, without turning around.
	
	“Do you have any idea what time it is?” A soft, insistent, feminine voice replied. Raro froze.
	
	“A-Ali!” he stammered, placing the anointing bowl down quickly and turning around. There she was, leaning on centre pole of the tent. Her chest was uncovered, a necklace of polished teeth dangling between her firm breasts. Her groin wasbarely hidden by a striped loincloth, clearly crafted from the hide of a zebra. Lucky Zebra, Raro thought. He could see the feet of Ali's hound under the hide flap, waiting patiently for his mistress to return. Why couldn't he have a mount that obedient?
	
	Arca pressed a paw lightly against the leonin's shoulder, as if she knew he was comparing her to someone else. Ali seemed unphased.
	
	“It's nearly sundown, and you're . . .not even halfway done!” Ali accused, “What have you been doing?”
	
	“You try painting a moving target,” Raro shot back, smirking, “How about you make yourself useful and give me a hand?” Arca growled a little, her paw becoming more insistent as it pushed on the male's shoulder. “And you!” Raro turned, pointing an accusing finger at the canine, “Shush!”
	
	But Arca wasn't taking no for an answer. She rose from her haunches, tail held high, and placed herself right in front of her handler, blocking out Ali entirely and pawing heavily at Raro's chest with enough force that he had to brace himself.
	
	Raro heard a giggle from behind the enormous canine. “So bossy!” Ali taunted, “Looks like someone's the jealous type!”
	
	She was right, and Raro was very glad she couldn't see the way his ears flushed as the lioness hit the nail on the head. Arca was indeed the jealous sort – she demanded her handler's undivided attention, and when she wanted something, well, she was strong enough to take it. Raro took a step closer. He knew what she wanted. “Ali, would you excuse us for a moment? I need to give Arca a small lesson in manners.” 
	
	“So much for helping you out,” he heard her giggle, before the hide flap signalled her exit. Raro waited until he was sure before stepping closer to the massive canine and stretching his neck to give her a kiss on the muzzle. Arca returned the gesture immediately, her flat tongue practically smothering his face as is swiped his nose over and over.
	
	“You need to behave yourself,” Raro accused his cohort, “What if she had seen us?
	
	Arca whined in reply, standing up on her hind legs and putting her forelegs on the lion's shoulders, her tail wagging frantically from side to side. She wasn't even listening to him. She had one thing on her mind, and Raro knew what it was. Fortunately, he knew the steps to this dance well. He reached down with his fingers to stroke at her smooth-furred underbelly, and then down to the plush, puffy protrusion under her tail. The response was immediate. Arca's hips slammed forward, and the lions fingers quickly parted those dark, thick lips. Raro had to brace himself against something, fearing that she might push him all the way onto his back if she kept up this behaviour. “Easy, girl!” he insisted, pushing back against her shoulder as he curled his digits inside her. But Arca wasn't listening. She was too busy hammering her hips against his fingers, intent on using her two-legged handler to get herself off! 
	
	“Slow down!” Raro commanded, but it was a little late for that. Arca's nethers made a lewd squishing sound as they kissed the lion's fingers, suckling them like a newborn pup. He had to wrap one hand around her back to keep her steady and close as her plump sex enveloped his fingers almost completely. All Raro had to do was stand there – it seemed Arca was intent on doing all the work, using the lion's hand like a warm, animate sex-toy.
	
	Ali peeked back in through the flap. She had heard the noises begin almost instantly after she left, and her curiosity got the best of her. Her eyes widened at what she saw. Arca was . . .humping against something, presumably Raro, although the beast's massive body blocked out the figure of the comparatively slender lion. Arca's tail was going crazy, and she was clearly enjoying herself. The peeping lioness stifled a gasp, but couldn't bring herself to turn away. It was strangely . . .captivating. 
	
	Arca leaned down to smother Raro in kisses again, kisses which were eagerly accepted and returned with equal relish. His two fingers curled and rubbed the inside of the canine's glistening passage, the lion struggling to maintain a rhythm with Arca's frantic hip-rolling. She was in charge here. If Raro were to stop, he was sure Arca would only chase him down and take him by force. Surely, it was better to just give her what she wanted. He felt her engorged clit grinding against his fingers, bucking against them, and his other hand moved to her lower back, pressing against the base of her tail while encouraging her with soft words spoken into her angular ears. “Good girl,” he whispered, sandwiching her hips between his hands, “Use me.” 
	
	Ali's hand slipped under her loincloth. It was clear to her who was in charge in this tent, and it certainly wasn't Raro. Seeing a member of her tribe commanded so easily by a pack animal stirred something unfamiliar inside of her. She knew she wanted to watch, but she didn't know why. Was she watching Raro serve his 'master'? Was she watching Arca take what she wanted without fear? Or was she simply aroused from the sheer lewdness of the act, and the taboo of her observing it?
	
	Arca whined, digging her head into the lion's shoulder, licking at his neck. And then she started panting. Quick, heavy breaths ruffled Raro's fur, and her legs seemed to seize up. Raro let his restraining hand go, knowing what was coming. His fingers suddenly felt like they were in a furnace. And then she broke free in an explosion of sudden activity. She practically jumped away from him, quickly curling into a ball to lick between her legs before jumping back up and charging into him with enough force to bowl him over. In half a second she was gone again, bounding around the room, her tail slamming into the taut leather of the tent with loud, echoing thumps. Raro prayed she wouldn't hit any of the shelves. Ali cowered, hoping she wouldn't be discovered. Arca curled up again in an attempt to clean herself off and then uncurled violently, rolling into the padded bed and springing to her feet again. 
	
	“Easy!” Raro giggled, even though he knew there was no stopping her. At the sound of his voice she came galloping over, pushing him down and assaulting his muzzle with kisses. “Alright, girl, roll over. It's my turn!”
	
	Arca went belly-up obediently, her tail swishing from side to side in anticipation. Her legs were splayed far to either side, and her glistening sex was on clear display. Raro licked his lips. The earlier display was more than enough to get him hard – he felt like he was practically bursting at the seams. Slipping inside her wasn't difficult either. Given her size, and the fact that she was already practically dripping from a previous orgasm, the lion was able to push himself balls-deep on the first thrust. The sudden impact seemed to startle the massive beast, who let out a breathy huff as the lion's textured cock pushed her silky lips apart with one fluid motion.
	
	She was relatively still for a while after that, her head rolling back on the ground as her two-legged lover rested on top of her, bucking his hips into her plentiful underfur. He gripped her chest, right where her breasts would have been if she were a female of his own species. Instead, the lion was rewarded with a double-handful of long, silky underfur. He let out a breathy chuckle at the awkward gesture, and then wrapped his arms around her upper body as far as he could reach. Arca's forepaws didn't bend that way, and must have looked rather silly, bouncing around uselessly as the lion pounded his shaft into his feral lover with a feverish strength. He was desperate to finish before she did, otherwise she'd be bouncing off the walls again, and that was a risk he didn't want to take. He gripped her tightly, hoping that maybe just this once she'd stay still, or at least that he'd finish before she did. 
	
	But such was not to be. He heard her start panting again, and her left leg starting to twitch. He could feel something coming, and he only got a split-second of warning before the large canine had what looked like a panic attack. She drew her front legs close to her body and pushed suddenly, forcing Raro out of her and sending the unsuspecting male onto his back with a yelp. Arca followed, flipping her body upright and landing on top of him. She was in complete control now, and she mercilessly ground into the male's hips until she got what she wanted a second time. He wasn't even inside of her anymore – she was just grinding against whatever she could find in a desperate attempt to get herself off a second time. Raro barely had a chance to recover before he felt the tell-tale flash of heat, and she was off like a shot again. Raro grunted as Arca sprang away. His shoulder hurt, and he was pretty sure that he was going to have a massive bruise on his hips come tomorrow morning. He watched through a daze as Arca proceeded to do her best impression of a natural disaster. Her tail knocking into hanging bottles, she tripped over clay urns and narrowly missed smashing the bowl of red dye. Raro sighed with relief. That was close.  He waited for hurricane Arca to settle down before he sat up, giving himself a quick jerk to keep himself hard. Now it was his turn.
	
	Ali still watched, wide-eyed, her fingers nearly knuckle-deep between her legs.
	
	Raro approached Arca from behind, and scratched the base of her tail. It almost immediately flagged to the side. As long as he was ready, she was ready. He pushed her down so that he might get on his knees and mount her properly. A little teasing with a finger and then he shoved himself inside her again, grabbing onto her feral hips and pounding her dripping sex with every ounce of strength he had. He was so close, all he needed was a few moments of control to tip him over the edge. 	
	
	Just like her handler, Arca seemed to know something was coming. Perhaps it was a change in Raro's breathing, a tightening of his grip, or a change in the way he pushed against her tail. Whatever it was, she felt it, and she acted. Just as Raro closed his eyes and stifled an orgasmic grunt, the massive canine pulled away quickly, turning around and pressing her cold nose against his groin. The sudden shock was enough to finish him off, and he grabbed the closest thing – her neck. Arca didn't seem to mind. She opened her mouth around the throbbing, spurting member and dragged her tongue eagerly across it, the canine intent on cleaning up every last drop. Raro was on the verge of being completely overstimulated. As soon as she coaxed the last drop from his loins he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily. 
	
	Ali took the opportunity to make a hasty exit. As soon as she crawled out from the tent, her own hound was waiting for her. He cocked his head and whined, and a curious grin spread over Ali's muzzle. How long was it until sundown, again?