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"writing": "[b][u][center]Grime and Grunge and Girls\nFor VeronicaFoxx\nBy Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nGreta was walking from the venue to her motel room when she saw the German Shepherd sitting at the bus stop. The other dog clutched a cane the way a feral would bite a favorite chew toy, fingers rolling along the grip while the other hand tucked itself into her jeans pocket. She had her eyes glued to the ground in a way that the arctic wolf knew all too well: someone that was trying not to be seen. \n\nShe stopped across the street, rain beating down on the top of her hoodie and the wind sweeping between her legs. The fishnets she wore did jack-shit to keep the wind out, but her fur was fine. Glancing down the street for a second and seeing nobody, she shrugged, adjusted the guitar case on her shoulder, and darted across the street. \n\nAiming for the puddles instead of avoiding them, Greta announced herself with splashes and waves as she darted across the street. By the end of it, her feet were drenched, but at least the German Shepherd saw her coming. Leaping over the curb, she tucked herself under the plastic roof that kept most of the rain off and got comfortable. \n\n“Late bus?” she asked. \n\n“Mm.”\n\n“Yeah, figured; pretty shitty service late at night.”\n\n“Mmm,” the other canine said. \n\n“Yeaaaah, you’re not getting me to just walk on with the mmms, hon,” Greta said, chuckling. “Gonna have to give me more than that.”\n\n“Just waiting to go home.”\n\n“Uh-huh.”\n\nPulling her phone from her belly pocket, she tapped the screen. It flashed five ‘til midnight. She tilted it for the other woman to see. \n\n“Your bus run this late?”\n\n“…Fuck.”\n\n“Figured. How far you going?”\n\n“…Three transfers.”\n\nThe caginess made sense. Woman traveling alone? Even when you were talking to another female, wasn’t the smartest thing to get specific. This late, she doubted that there’d be a good deal going with the taxis, either, and the call-service stuff was expensive as hell.\n\nGreta looked the German Shepherd over again. The cane clearly wasn’t for age. The other woman looked like she was in her late thirties, [i]maybe[/i] early forties at a pinch, and despite the rain-matted fur running down her neck and face, she wasn’t sick or anything. A little hungry-looking, perhaps, but not sick. Drawn, but still had some stiffness – the white wolf would guess military, or at least, ex-military. \n\nAlso explained the thin clothing, too. T-shirt that was half-soaked, too dark to turn transparent but sticking to the other woman. Greta shook her head, getting to her feet and leaning her guitar against the bench. \n\n“Hang on.”\n\n“What are you – whoa, whoa, I don’t –”\n\n“You’re gonna freeze like that,” she said, grunting as she pulled her hoodie over her head. “Put it on.”\n\nShe held it out, only to get a wide-eyed, slack-jawed stare in return. Greta arched an eyebrow, then looked past the Shepherd to the reflection on the other side of the bus stop. \n\n[i]…Heh, right…[/i]\n\nIt was a barely-there reflection, the kind you got from a blurry piece of glass that was too smudged to look through but not shiny enough to show you details, but she could see herself. Without the hoodie, she was naked. Which was normal enough, considering that was how she performed, but she’d forgotten how casual it was for her. Black leather collar with eight spikes, crossbone piercings through her nipples, a long silver chain that hung from her clit and decorated the puffy black cookie pussy between her legs – it was a hell of a show when she got it all off. \n\nGreta pulled her phone out of the hoodie’s pocket, resting it against her hip as she offered the hoodie again. \n\n“Come on. Put it on; don’t want you to freeze while we talk.”\n\n“…You’re Greta, aren’t you?”\n\n“Hoodie, hon.”\n\n“Aren’t you?”\n\n“The way you’re staring, you know I am. And I’m always happy to see a fan, but seriously. Put the fucking hoodie on before you freeze.”\n\nAfter another second or two of hesitation, the German Shepherd finally took the damn thing. It was wet outside, but Greta had put money into that thing; it kept the rain off and didn’t let it through. As soon as the other dog had it on, she stopped shivering quite so much. \n\nFelt fucking cold sitting on the metal bench without the cloth in the way, admittedly, but she had thicker fur than the other woman did. She crossed her legs, one foot over her knee as she looked out at the dark road, the street lights flickering here and there in the growing puddles. She tossed her clit chain over one thigh to keep it from dangling and collecting cold. \n\n“So, got a plan for the night?” Greta asked. “Sounds like you ain’t getting home the way that you hoped.”\n\nThe Shepherd shook her head, her fingers tapping on her cane again. Not gripping, more like typing, not that different to the way she’d seen some move dots around an imaginary abacus. She looked down the street again. Not even a car going by. Street was about as dead as dead could be.\n\nGreta sighed. \n\n“Ah, fuck it. I got a room about twenty minutes down the road; wanna crash with me until morning?”\n\nNot surprisingly, the Shepherd flinched. Greta stood up, shouldering her guitar case again. Her clit chain clattered against itself as she put her hand on her hip and a smile on her muzzle. \n\n“No strings attached. Just putting the offer out there. You don’t like it, you don’t have to take it, but it’ll be a hell of a lot easier for you to get a bus somewhere in the morning. And you know as well as I do that it’s safer for the girls to stick together, even when they got a place to sleep.”\n\n“…I…This…doesn’t just happen.”\n\n“Yeah, well, [i]I[/i] didn’t just happen. I made me happen. So. You coming?”\n\n“…Fine.”\n\n#\n\nThe motel room was a bit of a dump, but that was what Greta could afford with the limited money that came in for a two-night gig. Hell, she was lucky that this time she could afford anything beyond begging a corner in the club itself for the next day. This was what she got when she was paid well.\n\nStill, a singular double bed, a rattling set of blinds in the window, and an old-style black and brown alarm clock that didn’t even have the right time on it wasn’t exactly luxury. Smoke smells lingered in the carpet and the walls were that shade of yellow that made her think of cheesy movies where detectives staked out their quarry from rooms like this, passing the time with smokes and booze and bad movies in the background. It was the kind of cheap place that nostalgia was made of and medical bills were charged for. \n\nStill, at least it had a roof and a bed and a door that locked properly. As soon as they were inside – and she noticed that the other canine locked the door almost immediately – Greta nodded toward the shower. \n\n“I’m gonna wash the show-sweat off. You good?”\n\nThe German Shepherd nodded. \n\n“By the way, you got a name?” Greta asked, making her way into the bathroom. \n\n“Veronica.”\n\n“Veronica. Thanks.”\n\nPeeling off the fishnet stockings and tossing them in the sink to drain, she pulled the hot water as high as it would go and stepped under it. The flow barely penetrated her fur – no surprise; she was just glad there weren’t any other problems. She ran her fingers through her hair, down her neck, and under her collar as she washed herself down. She wasn’t expecting to get fully clean. All she wanted was to get the stink of the stage off her before she flopped out. After all, other dogs could smell just how thick that could get, and she was sharing a bed with someone tonight. \n\nShe ran her fingers under her breasts, making sure to lift each and wash away the oily build-up where they’d been flopped against her chest. They weren’t as huge as some of the vixens that did pre-shows to get the audience all amped up in the underground clubs, but they were big enough to catch the eye. Lifting them up to wash the piercings and her nipples, she made sure that everything passed the sniff test before moving on. \n\nPits. Elbows. Thigh to hip joints. Stomach. Small of her back. A circle around the base of her tail. Between her cheeks and along the folds of her sex. Behind her knees. Her feet and between her toes and around the pads. All the spots where smell could collect and get a little too strong got a potent washing down. Didn’t take long, either; she’d had too many close-calls with schedules and having to take a whore-bath in a public place to linger even when she had time. \n\nShe turned off the water and shook. Her fur flung out, sending needles against the walls and down the tiles. Some puddles still formed under her pads as she stepped out of the shower, but that wasn’t too bad. She’d dry soon enough. \n\nGreta stepped out of the shower and blinked. Veronica had taken the bed already, but the Shepherd had stripped down to her panties, showing her own slightly bulging pussy through them, and she laid on the bed with her hands over her breasts and her head tilted to the side. Her toes curled and uncurled against the sheets as she ground her paws against the bed, and her eyes were anywhere but on the white wolf. \n\nShe pinched her muzzle and sighed. \n\n“Okay. Is this groupie/fan sexy stuff, or is this ‘I owe you for giving me a place to stay’ stuff? Because one of those I’m okay with and the other I’m [i]really[/i] not.”\n\n“I – I am a fan…”\n\n“That’s not an answer,” she said, walking over to the bed and standing over Veronica – yep, she looked away almost immediately, not making eye-contact. “I asked, is this groupie sexy stuff, or is this you wanting to pay a debt?”\n\n“…”\n\n“It’s the debt thing, isn’t it?” \n\n“I can’t pay you back with cash,” Veronica muttered. “I thought –”\n\n“Fuuuucking hell,” Greta muttered, leaning against the wall. “Look. Flattered. Genuinely. And trust me, I’d love to sit on your face and grind my pussy against your tongue for hours, but I’m not doing that just because you owe me. I’m not having you bow and scrape and kiss my paws for a favor –”\n\n“Mmmph.”\n\nShe caught a squishing sound and scented a familiar tang. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she saw a darker spot in her ‘fan’s’ panties, outlining a more bestial sex just like her own. \n\n“Paw girl. Not surprised, heh.”\n\n“I – I should go. I just –”\n\n“Oh, hell no.”\n\nEven as Veronica started to lift herself up, Greta swung her leg over the other woman. Before she could sit properly, though – \n\n“Gah!”\n\nShe wasn’t even sure how it happened. One second, she was straddling the German Shepherd. The next, she was on her back, her collar twisted tight around her neck, and she had a knee to her cunt and her clit chain being pulled hard enough to make her lift her hips right off the bed. Greta coughed, clenched – \n\n“Fuck fuck fuck – sorry!”\n\nThen it all came loose again. Veronica let go of her neck, she dropped back to the bed without the chain getting yanked like an alarm cord, and she wheezed as she got her air back. She coughed, rubbing her throat as the other woman retreated to the other side of the room, looking away from her. \n\n“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”\n\n“Nnngh…no, my bad. I –” Greta coughed. “My bad. I should have thought about that.”\n\n“I should go.”\n\n“Say that one more time, and I’ll show you that you’re not the only scrapper in the room,” she muttered, rubbing her throat. “Besides, ain’t the roughest someone’s been with me. Hell, ain’t the roughest I’ve asked someone to be.”\n\n“Shouldn’t have done that. I could have hurt you.”\n\n“And who says that’d be a bad thing?”\n\nGetting her breath back enough to get off the bed, Greta walked over to the curled-up German Shepherd. Veronica wasn’t rocking back and forth or anything of the sort, but she was all balled up. She refused to look away from the corner, either. \n\nShe sighed. It was going to be like that, was it? Fine. \n\nGetting a strong grip on the base of her clit chain, she swung it around in a couple of loops before throwing it around Veronica’s throat. She pulled it tight on the other side, yanking back just hard enough to pull the Shepherd out of her tight little ball. The other woman let out a quiet gluk, reaching up before stopping herself. \n\n“Let’s get one thing clear, Veronica,” Greta said, yanking the other woman back until her own bare cookie touched the back of her head. “You’re here ‘cause I invited you. You wanna have sex? I’m [i]more[/i] than up for it. And I’ll show you some things that’ll get your toes curling like a bitch in heat. But you try and tell me that you’re spreading your legs and sticking out your tongue to pay me back, and I’ll choke you out right here and now. I don’t take pity-sex, I don’t take fuck-bois, and I don’t take anything but a bitch that knows what she wants and works to get it. \n\n“So, your choice, girl. Do you wanna have some fun, or do you want to say goodnight right now?”\n\n“Ulk…ugh…I’ll…I’ll take some…some fun.”\n\n“Good girl.”\n\nReleasing the chain-grip, she helped her ‘guest’ for the night back to bed. She laid Veronica down properly, but flopped out opposite to her, head at the foot of the bed and her paws right up by the other woman’s face. She pressed her toes against the Shepherd’s muzzle, almost immediately getting a toe-curling response at her end. \n\n“Hehehe, knew it.” She smiled, stroking along the other woman’s muzzle, her toes curled just enough for blunt claws to trace soft lines through the fur. “You wanna give ‘em a kiss, girl? Go for it. Kiss my pads.”\n\n“Mmmph…”\n\n“Don’t be afraid. We got all night for more ‘traditional’ stuff. For now…kiss.”\n\nAnd the other woman did. One soft huffing sniff, then a kiss right to the biggest pad on her left foot. Chuckling, Greta alternated pressing one foot against Veronica’s face with the other, grinding, pressing, putting just enough weight on the other woman’s muzzle to keep her head pinned to the bed while she licked and kissed – \n\nOh, and nibbled. Here and there, just a little bit of nibbling, tooth-combing motions along the fuzzier parts. Greta smiled, laying her clit chain over Veronica’s thigh before sliding her fingers inside herself. \n\nShe slowly fingered her pussy to the soft kisses and nuzzles her paws received. Eventually, the German Shepherd reached up and started holding them properly, massaging further back along her paw and calf as she kissed, licked, and moaned against the white wolf’s paws. Every so often, Greta curled her toes to catch the other woman’s tongue, reminding her where she ‘belonged.’\n\nIt made the soft tang of horny bitch in the room get stronger and stronger. With her free hand, Greta reached up, stroking along Veronica’s thighs. Eventually, she found that puffy spot in her panties and – \n\n“Mmmph!”\n\nVeronica pushed her hips up, grinding back against Greta’s knowing fingers. The white wolf chuckled, rubbing that puffy cookie, tracing the lines of its curves through the soft underwear. \n\n“Mmm, someone’s excited.”\n\n“Nnngh…you tease…”\n\n“Heh, you want a tease? Let me show you something.”\n\nPulling Veronica’s underwear off, she changed their positions. Now, she was straddling the other woman, facing away, her paws pointed back. She rolled her hips forward, grinding her pussy against the soft rise of flesh at the top of Veronica’s puffy sex. Every time she ground forward, her pussy parted ever so slightly for that tip, and she loved the little shivers that gave the other woman. \n\nBut that wasn’t all she had in mind. She took her chain, rubbed it against her own slick sex, and – \n\n“Mmmph!”\n\n“Heh, let’s see how you feel with a nice smooth chain in your depths…”\n\nIt was a thick, heavy thing, too, one that had been custom-made to pull at her own clit all the time without damaging it. She slowly inserted one link after another, gently nudging it deeper, deeper, pooling inside of the other canine. All the while, she kept grinding, keeping them both wet and needy. \n\nIn the end, it was about two feet of metal chain inside of the Shepherd. She ground down, pressing cookie to cookie with Veronica, leaning forward to make sure that it was all inside. \n\n“Heh, ready to feel it come out?”\n\n“I-In a minute,” Veronica moaned, holding one hand to her stomach. “Fuck…Fuck, that’s…that’s a lot…”\n\n“Feels good, huh?”\n\n“Oh yeah…weird…but good…”\n\n“Heh…you ain’t seen nothing yet…”\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]\n\nSummary: Been a while since I showed off Greta. Let’s have a little lesbian show of what she’ll do with someone else that’s not doing too well, and who has a puffier, canine-style pussy the way that she does. \n\nTags: F/F, German Shepherd, Trauma, Veteran, Greta, White Wolf, Arctic Wolf, Canine Anatomy, Breasts, Shower, Sex, Grinding, Paw Play, Scissoring, Piercings, Chain Play, Celebrity, Teasing, Nudity, Exhibitionism, Choking, \n",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Grime and Grunge and Girls For VeronicaFoxx By Draconicon
Greta was walking from the venue to her motel room when she saw the German Shepherd sitting at the bus stop. The other dog clutched a cane the way a feral would bite a favorite chew toy, fingers rolling along the grip while the other hand tucked itself into her jeans pocket. She had her eyes glued to the ground in a way that the arctic wolf knew all too well: someone that was trying not to be seen.
She stopped across the street, rain beating down on the top of her hoodie and the wind sweeping between her legs. The fishnets she wore did jack-shit to keep the wind out, but her fur was fine. Glancing down the street for a second and seeing nobody, she shrugged, adjusted the guitar case on her shoulder, and darted across the street.
Aiming for the puddles instead of avoiding them, Greta announced herself with splashes and waves as she darted across the street. By the end of it, her feet were drenched, but at least the German Shepherd saw her coming. Leaping over the curb, she tucked herself under the plastic roof that kept most of the rain off and got comfortable.
“Late bus?” she asked.
“Mm.”
“Yeah, figured; pretty shitty service late at night.”
“Mmm,” the other canine said.
“Yeaaaah, you’re not getting me to just walk on with the mmms, hon,” Greta said, chuckling. “Gonna have to give me more than that.”
“Just waiting to go home.”
“Uh-huh.”
Pulling her phone from her belly pocket, she tapped the screen. It flashed five ‘til midnight. She tilted it for the other woman to see.
“Your bus run this late?”
“…Fuck.”
“Figured. How far you going?”
“…Three transfers.”
The caginess made sense. Woman traveling alone? Even when you were talking to another female, wasn’t the smartest thing to get specific. This late, she doubted that there’d be a good deal going with the taxis, either, and the call-service stuff was expensive as hell.
Greta looked the German Shepherd over again. The cane clearly wasn’t for age. The other woman looked like she was in her late thirties, maybe early forties at a pinch, and despite the rain-matted fur running down her neck and face, she wasn’t sick or anything. A little hungry-looking, perhaps, but not sick. Drawn, but still had some stiffness – the white wolf would guess military, or at least, ex-military.
Also explained the thin clothing, too. T-shirt that was half-soaked, too dark to turn transparent but sticking to the other woman. Greta shook her head, getting to her feet and leaning her guitar against the bench.
“Hang on.”
“What are you – whoa, whoa, I don’t –”
“You’re gonna freeze like that,” she said, grunting as she pulled her hoodie over her head. “Put it on.”
She held it out, only to get a wide-eyed, slack-jawed stare in return. Greta arched an eyebrow, then looked past the Shepherd to the reflection on the other side of the bus stop.
…Heh, right…
It was a barely-there reflection, the kind you got from a blurry piece of glass that was too smudged to look through but not shiny enough to show you details, but she could see herself. Without the hoodie, she was naked. Which was normal enough, considering that was how she performed, but she’d forgotten how casual it was for her. Black leather collar with eight spikes, crossbone piercings through her nipples, a long silver chain that hung from her clit and decorated the puffy black cookie pussy between her legs – it was a hell of a show when she got it all off.
Greta pulled her phone out of the hoodie’s pocket, resting it against her hip as she offered the hoodie again.
“Come on. Put it on; don’t want you to freeze while we talk.”
“…You’re Greta, aren’t you?”
“Hoodie, hon.”
“Aren’t you?”
“The way you’re staring, you know I am. And I’m always happy to see a fan, but seriously. Put the fucking hoodie on before you freeze.”
After another second or two of hesitation, the German Shepherd finally took the damn thing. It was wet outside, but Greta had put money into that thing; it kept the rain off and didn’t let it through. As soon as the other dog had it on, she stopped shivering quite so much.
Felt fucking cold sitting on the metal bench without the cloth in the way, admittedly, but she had thicker fur than the other woman did. She crossed her legs, one foot over her knee as she looked out at the dark road, the street lights flickering here and there in the growing puddles. She tossed her clit chain over one thigh to keep it from dangling and collecting cold.
“So, got a plan for the night?” Greta asked. “Sounds like you ain’t getting home the way that you hoped.”
The Shepherd shook her head, her fingers tapping on her cane again. Not gripping, more like typing, not that different to the way she’d seen some move dots around an imaginary abacus. She looked down the street again. Not even a car going by. Street was about as dead as dead could be.
Greta sighed.
“Ah, fuck it. I got a room about twenty minutes down the road; wanna crash with me until morning?”
Not surprisingly, the Shepherd flinched. Greta stood up, shouldering her guitar case again. Her clit chain clattered against itself as she put her hand on her hip and a smile on her muzzle.
“No strings attached. Just putting the offer out there. You don’t like it, you don’t have to take it, but it’ll be a hell of a lot easier for you to get a bus somewhere in the morning. And you know as well as I do that it’s safer for the girls to stick together, even when they got a place to sleep.”
“…I…This…doesn’t just happen.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t just happen. I made me happen. So. You coming?”
“…Fine.”
#
The motel room was a bit of a dump, but that was what Greta could afford with the limited money that came in for a two-night gig. Hell, she was lucky that this time she could afford anything beyond begging a corner in the club itself for the next day. This was what she got when she was paid well.
Still, a singular double bed, a rattling set of blinds in the window, and an old-style black and brown alarm clock that didn’t even have the right time on it wasn’t exactly luxury. Smoke smells lingered in the carpet and the walls were that shade of yellow that made her think of cheesy movies where detectives staked out their quarry from rooms like this, passing the time with smokes and booze and bad movies in the background. It was the kind of cheap place that nostalgia was made of and medical bills were charged for.
Still, at least it had a roof and a bed and a door that locked properly. As soon as they were inside – and she noticed that the other canine locked the door almost immediately – Greta nodded toward the shower.
“I’m gonna wash the show-sweat off. You good?”
The German Shepherd nodded.
“By the way, you got a name?” Greta asked, making her way into the bathroom.
“Veronica.”
“Veronica. Thanks.”
Peeling off the fishnet stockings and tossing them in the sink to drain, she pulled the hot water as high as it would go and stepped under it. The flow barely penetrated her fur – no surprise; she was just glad there weren’t any other problems. She ran her fingers through her hair, down her neck, and under her collar as she washed herself down. She wasn’t expecting to get fully clean. All she wanted was to get the stink of the stage off her before she flopped out. After all, other dogs could smell just how thick that could get, and she was sharing a bed with someone tonight.
She ran her fingers under her breasts, making sure to lift each and wash away the oily build-up where they’d been flopped against her chest. They weren’t as huge as some of the vixens that did pre-shows to get the audience all amped up in the underground clubs, but they were big enough to catch the eye. Lifting them up to wash the piercings and her nipples, she made sure that everything passed the sniff test before moving on.
Pits. Elbows. Thigh to hip joints. Stomach. Small of her back. A circle around the base of her tail. Between her cheeks and along the folds of her sex. Behind her knees. Her feet and between her toes and around the pads. All the spots where smell could collect and get a little too strong got a potent washing down. Didn’t take long, either; she’d had too many close-calls with schedules and having to take a whore-bath in a public place to linger even when she had time.
She turned off the water and shook. Her fur flung out, sending needles against the walls and down the tiles. Some puddles still formed under her pads as she stepped out of the shower, but that wasn’t too bad. She’d dry soon enough.
Greta stepped out of the shower and blinked. Veronica had taken the bed already, but the Shepherd had stripped down to her panties, showing her own slightly bulging pussy through them, and she laid on the bed with her hands over her breasts and her head tilted to the side. Her toes curled and uncurled against the sheets as she ground her paws against the bed, and her eyes were anywhere but on the white wolf.
She pinched her muzzle and sighed.
“Okay. Is this groupie/fan sexy stuff, or is this ‘I owe you for giving me a place to stay’ stuff? Because one of those I’m okay with and the other I’m really not.”
“I – I am a fan…”
“That’s not an answer,” she said, walking over to the bed and standing over Veronica – yep, she looked away almost immediately, not making eye-contact. “I asked, is this groupie sexy stuff, or is this you wanting to pay a debt?”
“…”
“It’s the debt thing, isn’t it?”
“I can’t pay you back with cash,” Veronica muttered. “I thought –”
“Fuuuucking hell,” Greta muttered, leaning against the wall. “Look. Flattered. Genuinely. And trust me, I’d love to sit on your face and grind my pussy against your tongue for hours, but I’m not doing that just because you owe me. I’m not having you bow and scrape and kiss my paws for a favor –”
“Mmmph.”
She caught a squishing sound and scented a familiar tang. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she saw a darker spot in her ‘fan’s’ panties, outlining a more bestial sex just like her own.
“Paw girl. Not surprised, heh.”
“I – I should go. I just –”
“Oh, hell no.”
Even as Veronica started to lift herself up, Greta swung her leg over the other woman. Before she could sit properly, though –
“Gah!”
She wasn’t even sure how it happened. One second, she was straddling the German Shepherd. The next, she was on her back, her collar twisted tight around her neck, and she had a knee to her cunt and her clit chain being pulled hard enough to make her lift her hips right off the bed. Greta coughed, clenched –
“Fuck fuck fuck – sorry!”
Then it all came loose again. Veronica let go of her neck, she dropped back to the bed without the chain getting yanked like an alarm cord, and she wheezed as she got her air back. She coughed, rubbing her throat as the other woman retreated to the other side of the room, looking away from her.
“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”
“Nnngh…no, my bad. I –” Greta coughed. “My bad. I should have thought about that.”
“I should go.”
“Say that one more time, and I’ll show you that you’re not the only scrapper in the room,” she muttered, rubbing her throat. “Besides, ain’t the roughest someone’s been with me. Hell, ain’t the roughest I’ve asked someone to be.”
“Shouldn’t have done that. I could have hurt you.”
“And who says that’d be a bad thing?”
Getting her breath back enough to get off the bed, Greta walked over to the curled-up German Shepherd. Veronica wasn’t rocking back and forth or anything of the sort, but she was all balled up. She refused to look away from the corner, either.
She sighed. It was going to be like that, was it? Fine.
Getting a strong grip on the base of her clit chain, she swung it around in a couple of loops before throwing it around Veronica’s throat. She pulled it tight on the other side, yanking back just hard enough to pull the Shepherd out of her tight little ball. The other woman let out a quiet gluk, reaching up before stopping herself.
“Let’s get one thing clear, Veronica,” Greta said, yanking the other woman back until her own bare cookie touched the back of her head. “You’re here ‘cause I invited you. You wanna have sex? I’m more than up for it. And I’ll show you some things that’ll get your toes curling like a bitch in heat. But you try and tell me that you’re spreading your legs and sticking out your tongue to pay me back, and I’ll choke you out right here and now. I don’t take pity-sex, I don’t take fuck-bois, and I don’t take anything but a bitch that knows what she wants and works to get it.
“So, your choice, girl. Do you wanna have some fun, or do you want to say goodnight right now?”
“Ulk…ugh…I’ll…I’ll take some…some fun.”
“Good girl.”
Releasing the chain-grip, she helped her ‘guest’ for the night back to bed. She laid Veronica down properly, but flopped out opposite to her, head at the foot of the bed and her paws right up by the other woman’s face. She pressed her toes against the Shepherd’s muzzle, almost immediately getting a toe-curling response at her end.
“Hehehe, knew it.” She smiled, stroking along the other woman’s muzzle, her toes curled just enough for blunt claws to trace soft lines through the fur. “You wanna give ‘em a kiss, girl? Go for it. Kiss my pads.”
“Mmmph…”
“Don’t be afraid. We got all night for more ‘traditional’ stuff. For now…kiss.”
And the other woman did. One soft huffing sniff, then a kiss right to the biggest pad on her left foot. Chuckling, Greta alternated pressing one foot against Veronica’s face with the other, grinding, pressing, putting just enough weight on the other woman’s muzzle to keep her head pinned to the bed while she licked and kissed –
Oh, and nibbled. Here and there, just a little bit of nibbling, tooth-combing motions along the fuzzier parts. Greta smiled, laying her clit chain over Veronica’s thigh before sliding her fingers inside herself.
She slowly fingered her pussy to the soft kisses and nuzzles her paws received. Eventually, the German Shepherd reached up and started holding them properly, massaging further back along her paw and calf as she kissed, licked, and moaned against the white wolf’s paws. Every so often, Greta curled her toes to catch the other woman’s tongue, reminding her where she ‘belonged.’
It made the soft tang of horny bitch in the room get stronger and stronger. With her free hand, Greta reached up, stroking along Veronica’s thighs. Eventually, she found that puffy spot in her panties and –
“Mmmph!”
Veronica pushed her hips up, grinding back against Greta’s knowing fingers. The white wolf chuckled, rubbing that puffy cookie, tracing the lines of its curves through the soft underwear.
“Mmm, someone’s excited.”
“Nnngh…you tease…”
“Heh, you want a tease? Let me show you something.”
Pulling Veronica’s underwear off, she changed their positions. Now, she was straddling the other woman, facing away, her paws pointed back. She rolled her hips forward, grinding her pussy against the soft rise of flesh at the top of Veronica’s puffy sex. Every time she ground forward, her pussy parted ever so slightly for that tip, and she loved the little shivers that gave the other woman.
But that wasn’t all she had in mind. She took her chain, rubbed it against her own slick sex, and –
“Mmmph!”
“Heh, let’s see how you feel with a nice smooth chain in your depths…”
It was a thick, heavy thing, too, one that had been custom-made to pull at her own clit all the time without damaging it. She slowly inserted one link after another, gently nudging it deeper, deeper, pooling inside of the other canine. All the while, she kept grinding, keeping them both wet and needy.
In the end, it was about two feet of metal chain inside of the Shepherd. She ground down, pressing cookie to cookie with Veronica, leaning forward to make sure that it was all inside.
“Heh, ready to feel it come out?”
“I-In a minute,” Veronica moaned, holding one hand to her stomach. “Fuck…Fuck, that’s…that’s a lot…”
“Feels good, huh?”
“Oh yeah…weird…but good…”
“Heh…you ain’t seen nothing yet…”
The End
Summary: Been a while since I showed off Greta. Let’s have a little lesbian show of what she’ll do with someone else that’s not doing too well, and who has a puffier, canine-style pussy the way that she does.