bluebird2221 Oct 14th, 2019 125 Never
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  1. With a knowing nod and wink, you tilt your head at the kitchen door — and in the direction of Gwyn's room in the back of the nursery. The nursery matron immediately picks up on the gesture, her ears perking up and eyes beginning to glaze over at the mere thought of having that particular itch scratched. Bosoms heaving and tongue lolling out of her maw, Gwyn whines and begins panting in the most unladylike manner.
  3. There, there, girl. She can hold on a little longer until you're ready.
  5. Gwyn whines piteously, and reaches across the table to paw at you with one hand while the other fingers the neckline of her one-piece dress. Getting a bit hot under the collar there, girl?
  7. She nods and whines again.
  9. Okay, then. She can fire up her oven and make sure it's nice and toasty, and you'll see about putting in another batch of buns to cook.
  11. Now, what do you want to do with your domestic nursery matron?
  13. "That's fine with me," Gwyn says at your suggestion. "One of Daddy's maxims is not to make messes where you eat, after all."
  15. Oh? And she thinks that you're going to be making a mess with this?
  17. The wolfess just smiles. "Well, it's a good sort of mess, that's true. Still, it doesn't change the fact that it's a mess, and the kind of mess which provokes all kinds of inconvenient questions."
  19. All right, all right, you get the point. There is, after all, a time and place for everything. You wait a few moments for Gwyn to put away the tea and cookies, then scoop Gwyn up in your arms and throw her over your shoulder like some kind of war spoils to be hauled home, making for the kitchen door. Tail wagging, the nursery matron squeals excitedly, sounding not too much different from a peppy little girl as you throw open the kitchen door with gusto and make a beeline through the nursery towards her room in the back. Several of the ladies and children give the two of you looks — the former knowing, the latter curious — as you pass through the building, but quickly fall away to give the two of you space as you enter Gwyn's bedroom and slam the door shut behind the both of you.
  21. With that done, you dump your eager puppyslut down on the bed with a loud flump of mattress and duvets. She giggles happily — no, almost childishly — and begins to pant while looking up at you with all the expectations of puppy wanting a treat.
  23. There's little doubt as to what's going to happen now. Smiling and giving Gwyn a pat between the ears, you order the nursery matron to strip herself, barking out the words like an animal handler giving a dog a command.
  25. Gwyn's only too happy to comply, practically tearing off her clothes at being commanded to do so with a firm, strong hand. It isn't long before Gwyn's garments are lying in a dishevelled heap on the floor, with the nursery matron herself as naked as the day she came into the world.
  27. Once she's fully undressed, a heady, musky scent wafts over to you; you may not have the keen nose of a lupine, but even in this form it's more than enough for you to realize that this is the scent of Gwyn's arousal. Judging by the way the wolfess is panting and squirming, she must be in heat...
  29. Which makes it all the better for you, doesn't it? Gwyn is already eager most times — to have her extra-eager must be something to behold indeed. If you don't die from overexertion, that is.
  31. One way or the other, it's painfully clear that Gwyn's ovaries have hit the manual override and forcefully seized control of her brain. The poor puppyslut has begun rubbing at her swollen cunt lips with a couple of fingers, an almost pitiful attempt to stave off the growing need to fuck that's filling her body.
  33. Nothing left holding you back, then. Grinning — or perhaps more accurately, showing your teeth — you strip off your garments, taking your time so that poor Gwyn can feast her eyes upon you and set her active imagination to work. Piece after discarded piece of gear falls to the ground to join Gwyn's clothes, and at last you stand before Gwyn in your birthday suit, canine cock stiff and engorged, and let the wolfess have a good sniff of your man-meat.
  35. "Can't take much more. Can't wait much longer," Gwyn gasps out between her whorish moans and pants. "Fuck me. Come on, fuck me."
  37. Okay, but you're going to do it on your time, not hers.
  39. Clambering onto the bed to join Gwyn, you spend a few seconds savouring the feel of the soft duvet and mattress underneath you before turning your attention to the wolfess. Drawing her close to you in a big hug, you cuddle the poor puppyslut for a minute or so, stroking her fur all over — her thighs, her tummy, her voluptuous body, until she's begging you to skip the foreplay and just do the deed already.
  41. Hah. Well, if she wants to be fucked, she'll have to prove that she's a good puppy first.
  43. Gwyn whimpers. "Am a good puppy! Am best puppy!"
  45. Oh? A good puppy would present herself to you like the breeding bitch that she is.
  47. Scarcely are the words out of your mouth before Gwyn scrambles to all fours, practically tripping over herself in her haste to shove her ass in your face, her head buried in one of the fluffy pillows that adorn the bed.
  49. Seeing Gwyn, a lupine, in this position... well, it just makes it feel right, like this is the way puppysluts like her are supposed to be bred. Words can't quite describe the feeling of satisfaction that you have as you close the last bits of distance between you and her — perhaps the closest thing would be to say you know in your bones that this is the way things were meant to be with Gwyn.
  51. As you approach, Gwyn instinctively lifts her long, fluffy tail, giving you unfettered access to her delicious ass, still obediently presenting herself to you. You give each of the wolfess' plump asscheeks a swat, eliciting a happy bark from her, then wait for the jiggling to stop before grabbing her by her flared hips and drawing her close.
  53. She knows what's coming next, doesn't she?
  55. Gwyn whines.
  57. With that, you waste no more time and bury your bloated, animalistic dick as deep as you can into Gwyn's puppy-hole, those wet, pink lips easily stretching apart to grant you entrance. Ah, this so reminds you of the first time you took the nursery matron down on the kitchen floor — but this is a bit more comfortable, you have to admit. She howls and shakes violently from head to tail as you reach the bottom of her depths, the nursery matron's insides clenching and squeezing about your massive girth. And speaking of your girth — you wouldn't have imagined that Gwyn would've been able to take someone of your size into her, but you know that the nursery matron's had some really big puppies in the past. If it'd been anyone but her... well, there's a reason Gwyn has those hips of hers.
  59. On her part, Gwyn is clearly taking a perverse pleasure in being stuffed so full with dick — with such a large and stretchy puppy-hole, it makes sense that only an equally large shaft would be truly able to satiate her cock-hunger.
  61. The vigor put into the act, the all-pervading scent of sex, the wet squelches and creaking of the bed — not to mention, of course, that even the position the both of you are in is appropriately animal — with the deck stacked against her like this, it's not surprising that Gwyn soon gives in to her bestial lusts. Her senses and mind fleeing her like a rabbit from hounds, Gwyn snarls and yips, putting the strength of her stocky body to use in the singular act of mating.
  63. With the kind of noise you're making, there's no hiding just what you're doing in here — no matter how thick the nursery walls are, Gwyn's bed is creaking with enough noise for one to imagine that the entire building might just come tumbling down about the both of you. Once or twice, in your more lucid moments, you think you hear someone knocking at the door, but you wouldn't have been able to stop now even if you had the mind to.
  65. When Gwyn's climax comes, it's all at once. Pressing herself against the mattress, the wolfess arches her back downwards, thrusting her as and tail as high up as they'll go. At the same time, her pussy clamps down on your doggie-dong like a vise, wrenching, wringing, squeezing for all she's worth.
  67. Before you know it, your poor puppyslut crosses her eyes, braces herself against the bed's headboard and howls. It's a long, loud howl, a wanton, bestial thing that no doubt once sounded out across the moonlit forests of lupine ancestral territories. Here and now, though, with a naked, furry puppyslut in your hands and her head thrown back as the last of the howl dies out, the only thing you can think of is how wonderful it feels to have Gwyn's girl-cum seeping out from around your man-meat.
  69. That, in turn, drives your own orgasm, your fingers digging painfully into Gwyn's flesh as you clutch her in a death grip, plunging yourself as deep into her heated puppy cooker as your bodies will allow. The next few moments pass in a blurry cloud of sex-addled haziness — you're vaguely aware of you completely and utterly emptying your ballsinto Gwyn, any and all excess spurting out forcibly to join your sweat in staining the sheets.
  71. The simple ferocity of it all, the energy, the animal nature of what you've just done with Gwyn — an act of not so much sex, but breeding — finally begins to take its toll on you, and you don't even have the wits to try and pull your slowly softening shaft out of Gwyn. On her part, the wolfess herself is more than happy to keep you inside her for a little while longer, her silken cunt walls massaging your seam-shredding, pointed prick as she lies there with a dopey but hugely satisfied smile plastered all over her face.
  73. Aww, with your puppy so happy, it's hard not to feel all warm and fuzzy inside as well. The two of you just remain there in that position for a while, basking in the afterglow of the deed until you finally deign to withdraw from Gwyn and drop back onto the sheets to catch your breath. It's as she predicted — you've created quite the mess on the bed from your lovemaking, but you just can't seem to muster the will to get up and find a less sticky spot to lie on.
  76. -----------------
  78. Gwyn looks a little uncertain. "Here? Now? I didn't quite check the kitchen schedule, so I don't know if -"
  80. You silence the nursery matron with a raised finger. There, there, you'll take care of everything. It's going to be all right; she has to have faith that this is a good idea, yes? Besides, the idea that the two of you might be discovered while you're ravishing her here in the kitchen — doesn't that make it all the more tense and exciting?
  82. As if on cue, Gwyn turns her gaze from the table, then to you, then back to the table again before slowly licking her lips. There's something about the word "ravishing" that really gets her gears going, and since she seems too reluctant to take the lead here you quickly stand and pick up the tea and cookies.
  84. "Um, I -" Gwyn begins, but the sound is quickly drowned out by the loud clack of you setting the tray on the wall counter. With the table thusly cleared, the stage is set for your conquest here. The wolfess doesn't just fail to resist, but eagerly complies as you grab her by the wrist and yank her out of her seat, tail wagging happily as she begins to pant.
  86. Don't worry, no one will find the two of you here. You'll make this short and sweet, very, very sweet.
  88. Gwyn whines.
  90. No time to lose, then. Even with the kitchen door locked and latched, someone might come across the two of you at any time. You rip Gwyn's apron off her body, the stiff protective garment coming apart at the strings to crumple in a pile at her feet. The one-piece dress puts up more of a fight — if barely so — but soon succumbs to the same fate as the apron, leaving Gwyn before you in her underclothes. Now, maybe, you can slow down a little — as you slide your hands down the elastic of Gwyn's panties, you stop for a moment to rub a couple of fingers across the nursery matron's pussy lips, teasing the petals of her womanly flower. They feel plump and fresh and juicy, not too different from rose petals wet with morning dew, advertising Gwyn's prodigious fecundity. Gwyn squirms and instinctively shies away from you, but you keep a good hold on her as she whines in soft delight.
  92. With such a promise, there's no need to hold back on your ravishment. A hard tug has her panties down by her feet, and then her milk-heavy mammaries sag ever so slightly as you divest her of her nursing bra. On her part, Gwyn is absolutely enjoying every moment of her clothes being forcefully torn from her, the wolfess' eyes bright and tongue hanging out of her mouth as she eagerly anticipates your impromptu ravishment of the poor, helpless nursery matron. The last thing that remains, then, are her gloves...
  94. Hmm. Well, she can keep them on if she wants. There's a certain something or the other about a lupine lady with nothing on save for her gloves... that, and you're raring to go already. Who cares about some silly gloves that're not even in the way anyway?
  96. Now that that's done, you smile and push Gwyn face-down onto the kitchen table, spreading her legs by nudging them with a foot. At that, the poor nursery matron whimpers in excitement and her long fluffy tail wags frantically, practically a blur as you get out your giant, bestial member and line it up with her puffy pussy lips.
  98. There's a good puppy, yes? Who's been a good puppy? Who's been a good girl?
  100. "I have! I have!"
  102. Good girl. Without further ado, you ram as much of your man-meat as you can straight into Gwyn's puppy-hole, making the nursery matron moan and tremble with the insertion. Despite the huge size of your canine cock, Gwyn's puppy-hole is more than capable of accommodating your girth — after all, the sheer size of the puppies that come out the other way don't trouble her at all. It stretches wide, the folds of her womanly flower parting like curtains to admit you entrance.
  104. Length, though, is another matter. It soon becomes apparent that there's no way you're getting all of you into the wolfess — to your surprise, you hit the limit a little earlier than expected, then remember that Gwyn's womb isn't going to let you in when it's already occupied with a litter of puppies. Oh well, them's the breaks, as the saying goes.
  106. Keeping her shoulders pinned down, you keep on pounding Gwyn, driving your canine shaft into her as she rocks her hips back into every thrust you make, trying to take you ever deeper into herself.
  108. "I love it... remind me how I always end up having your puppies," Gwyn moans as you thoroughly abuse her tight and juicy puppy-hole from behind. Ravishing isn't the proper word to describe what you're doing to the mother of your children, although it's close — perhaps ravaging would be a better description.
  110. And she's loving every moment of it.
  112. It truly is a sight to see — Gwyn with her head thrown back, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. Her hands grip the edge of the table, claws digging into the wood; her mouth is slack and open with her tongue lolling out, drooling on the tabletop like an idiot. Last but not least, Gwyn's sumptuous breasts are squashed against the table, a small but steady stream of milk leaking out from her nipples and pooling beneath her.
  114. Ah, glorious.
  116. Once you've affirmed your grip on Gwyn, you truly unleash yourself, riding your puppyslut hard and wild until she's biting back cries and screams, choking them into anguished half-noises in the back of her throat. Your grip on her still rough and tight, you ply your hands all over Gwyn's curvaceous body, served up on the kitchen table like a delicious meal for you to enjoy — and enjoy it you do. Shamelessly groping away at her tits, her hips, her butt — anywhere the wolfess is rounded, your hands find it to give her a pinch and squeeze, reaffirming Gwyn's status as your prized breeding bitch, the alpha female of her pack second only to one.
  118. There's a good girl, you whisper into Gwyn's ear, the words completely at odds with the ferocity with which you're fucking her. Unable to withstand the assault on both body and mind, Gwyn can only pant and wag her long, furry tail in assent, not so much hearing the words as the comforting tone in which they're spoken. Eventually, the poor wolfess becomes so addled with the repeated slamming of your crotch against her butt that she can't do much more than hold on as the large hardwood table shakes and shudders beneath the two of you, more and more of her girl-juices staining her fur as you proceed apace. It feels like almost desecration, for such a lewd act to be conducted in what would otherwise be a warm, domestic place, so close to cookfire and hearth.
  120. Considering the energy you're pouring into this, Gwyn lasts surprisingly long — the girl has a good constitution, after all. But even she has her limits, and when she finally leaps over the brink of climax, the nursery matron cries out for you to tie her, something you're only more than willing to do as you feel your own orgasm mounting. Her body is as desperate as she is, her inner walls clenching and squeezing about your dog-cock as you drive your knot into her and feel it fill her nicely. Poor Gwyn yelps and barks like a whore as you pump your seed into her, but even a womb as powerful as Gwyn's isn't going to take that much into her. The excess cum you're blasting into her sprays out from around your cock, running down her legs, dripping onto the floor and creating a messy puddle on the kitchen floor.
  122. At last, it's time to withdraw, and you do so, pulling free of Gwyn's cunt with a wet pop. Gwyn herself is still lying on the kitchen table, her well-fucked pussy dribbling with your seed as proof that you've left the poor puppyslut thoroughly bred. Gently, you reach out to ruffle the fur on her back, and her tail wags weakly a few times.
  124. It's always so fulfilling when they're left satisfied, isn't it?
  126. Nevertheless, it's probably your duty to stay here awhile until Gwyn can come to her sense and clean up the place; the vigorous fucking took quite a bit out of you, too. And besides, the tea and cookies are still on the kitchen counter where you left them...
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