Before approaching: There's an extremely tall horned ausar man propping his feet on a table in a corner of the saloon. He's dressed like a cowboy from a Terran Western, and a cowgirl prostitute is chatting at him. He looks just a little bored.

After approaching: Ciaran's sitting at his usual table, leaning back in his chair with his hat angled partly over his face as he lazily checks a dataslate. When he glances up and notices you he grins and gives you a small wave hello.

}

Approach

{

First approach:

You make your way over to the extraordinarily tall ausar's table. Serendipitously, the prostitute at his table finishes chattering at him and departs, her farewell earning a lazy wave and a smile from the horned ausar. He shifts his gaze over to you as you approach, his smile turning into a wolfish grin.

"Well, what do we have here? A {PC femininity >65: pretty //else: handsome} young [pc.race] looking to sit at my table? {PC is kaithrit or half-kaithrit: I do so enjoy the company of {kaithrit/half-kaithrit}." His voice is deep, rich, and utterly masculine, though you're surprised to hear that he lacks a New Texas accent.

Being this close to him, you can {PC has pheromones: make out every note of his personal scent. It's a powerful and manly musk composed of countless individual notes: at times a rich and pleasant woodsmoke, at others the scent of warm petrichor, often an almost spicy scent as of peppers being cooked, but always a sense of warmth and the natural world. //else: detect a powerful and pleasant smell wafting off of him. It's something in between a primitive cologne and the scent of a warm, active body.} Was the room always this hot, or is that just you? When he speaks again, you realize you've just been staring blankly at him for several seconds and taking in his scent.

"I know I smell good kid, but surely there's something you'd like to ask me?" You can actually hear his tail thumping powerfully against his chair at this point, his amusement at your reaction obvious.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but his body language {PC is Treated: and scent} put{s} you at ease, giving you the sense that he's laughing with you rather than at you. Sheepishly, you ask him if you can sit down with him.

"Please, do," he responds warmly. "My name's Ciaran Eildean. What do you want to be called, kid?"

"Steele. [pc.name] Steele."

Ciaran cocks an eyebrow and grins at your introduction. "Well then, 'Steele, [pc.name] Steele,' it's a pleasure to meet you." He smiles playfully, amused by his own lame joke. "What can I do for you, kid?"

[Appearance] [Talk] [Sex]

Repeat approach:

Figuring he could use some entertainment, you mosey over to Ciaran's table. The massive hellhound tips his hat back as you approach and grins at you. "Just had to come back for seconds, huh? I guess every man since me has paled in comparison."

You roll your eyes at his self-aggrandizement, telling him not to flatter himself too much.

"Ah, don't flatter myself 'too much' you say. So you admit that I'm deserving of some flattery?"

You chuckle a bit, but you don't otherwise dignify his braggadocious banter.

He throws his clawed hands in the air good-naturedly, grumbling out in his deep voice, "Well what did you come over here for if not to inflate my ego? Did you want to help inflate my knot instead?" He asks the last question in a seductive tone, a lusty grin on his face.

[Appearance] [Talk] [Ear Scritches] [Sex]

}

Appearance

Ciaran Eildean is a Treated ausar, colloquially known as a hellhound. He stands seven feet, eight inches tall without counting his unusual horns, which are far more vertical than those of most Treated humans. He has tanned skin and thick, grey-streaked {silly mode: Cimmerian// else:onyx} hair that he keeps relatively short but unstyled, his mop parted by furry jackal-like ears the same color as his hair.

His left ear has a notch missing from it, seemingly damaged at some point. A black cowboy hat with holes for his ears and horns rests on his head. His eyes are a striking, fiery shade of orange, and in darker conditions they shine {PC is Bookworm: thanks to bright tapetum lucidum} like those of a nocturnal predator.

Whenever he speaks you can see his white teeth, seemingly sharper than most ausars'. While his neck is clean-shaven with a faded blue bandana tied around it, his face is covered in a dark five o'clock shadow, though there is a quartet of parallel scars on his right cheek where the hair will no longer grow. His ruggedly handsome features are sharply defined and a bit weathered from years spent outdoors, making him look distinctly middle-aged.

{Has sexed Ciaran other than Fingerfuck or Spank: Having seen Ciaran naked, you know he has many scars on his body that speak of a life of violence. The left side of his muscular neck has a scarred-over bite wound, presumably from an animal attack of some sort. His torso, both front and back, is marred by over a dozen scars of various sorts: stabbings, clawings, gunshot wounds, even flashburns from laser or plasma weaponry. There's no doubt his arms and legs are scarred as well, but his thick fur totally conceals any imperfections.}

His incredible physique speaks of many hours spent honing his body in the gym, with big pectorals and a set of perfectly-sculpted abdominals. The muscles of his arms and legs are well-defined even through the dense onyx fur covering his limbs. The claws of his fingers and toes are far more wicked-looking than a normal ausar's, though you notice that those on his right hand have been partially filed down.

Currently Ciaran is wearing an outfit straight out of a 20th century Terran Wild West film: long-sleeved crimson denim shirt, short and darkly-colored poncho, black denim pants, and trail-worn cowboy boots that appear to be made of tanned varmint hide. You see a very large bulge in the crotch of his pants {PC has sexed Ciaran: which you know to be concealing a thick canine cock a few inches over a foot in length, with a knot twice as thick as one proportionate to his already-large penis would be. Hanging beneath his member is a sack almost triple the size of the human norm, filled with four testes}. A tail with heavy black fur pokes out of his pants just under his belt. There's a gold ring at the base of his tail, nearly lost among the thick fur. Perhaps the only part of Ciaran that could be described as "cute", his tail wags mischievously as you finish your appraisal of the hellhound, its owner having apparently noticed your stare.

Talk

He leans his chair onto its back legs again, flicking his hat back to show more of his face. "I'd love a conversation, provided you're the one doing the talking. I hear myself jaw plenty; it's a whole lot more fun to listen to others {PC femininity >65:, especially pretty little things like yourself. They don't have a whole lot of those out on the plains}."

You frown slightly, asserting that he seems far more interesting than yourself.

He sighs at this, letting his chair return to its appropriate incline before gruffly muttering, "This is why I hate wearing this ridiculous getup. Everybody who walks in thinks I've got something interesting to tell. You know I've had tourists ask me if I'm an outlaw before?"

You chuckle at that, insisting that that is exactly the sort of story you expect he has in spades.

He waves a massive, clawed hand at you in good-natured exasperation. "Alright, I'll humor you for now. What did you want to ask me about?"

[Himself] Ask the ausar about himself in general. What does he do around here?

[Hobbies] Ask him about his hobbies and interests. Maybe he likes pina coladas?

[His Outfit] That's certainly not an outfit you're used to seeing. Ask him why he's wearing it.

[His Scars] You noticed some pretty wicked scars on Ciaran earlier. See if he's got any stories about how he got them.

[Annebelle] That silver-haired waitress is adorable, and Ciaran seems to know her pretty well, and regularly. Ask the DILF what he knows about Annebelle.

[Head Scritches] You're sure that under that rugged, ferocious exterior lies a sweet pooch that likes getting his ears scratched.

[His Past] He doesn't really have a New Texas accent. See if he'll tell you where he's from.

[Sex] Seduce the studly older man. Or more likely get dominated and pounded bareback in front of the whole saloon. Either one.

Himself

You ask him to tell you about himself.

He places a hand on his rugged chin as he takes a moment to consider his words before answering. "I'm a game warden: I keep the ecosystem in balance around these parts. Now what that mostly means is 'I hunt varmints', but there are other things too. For example, I stop poachers and wildlife smugglers, and I make sure no invasive species can get comfortable here. Cuntsnakes and similar organisms are probably the biggest threats, what with us Treated folks not having the best handle on our libidos."{PC has cuntsnake, cockvine, or other visible parasite: He gestures to your own parasite. "I hope for your sake you won't be causing any trouble with your, let's say, attachment?" You assure him you wouldn't dream of it, and he continues speaking.} "New Texas is also fertile ground for silicon-based organisms, many of which are even worse pests than the varmints."

{PC has fought a varmint: You know firsthand how obnoxious and dangerous varmints can be; you don't even want to think about how much worse they could potentially be. //else: You're not entirely sure how bad varmints really are, but from the tone of Ciaran's voice you gather that something worse than a varmint would be a terrible pest indeed.

}

You nod your head, telling him that sounds like a tough job.

Ciaran shrugs his shoulders. "It sure beats the hell out of my old job."

With a grin, you ask him how he thinks can get away with saying something like that and not expect to have to go into detail.

There's a subtle hardening of Ciaran's features when you say that; his frame seems to tense, and his cocksure smile almost slips away entirely as his fiery eyes stare fiercely into your own. Before the situation can get awkward though, he forces a soft chuckle. "That's a story for another time. How about you ask me something else and I act all evasive again?"

Seems you've found a sensitive topic. Maybe you should get to know him better before asking again. Or perhaps someone who knew him well would be able to tell you more?

Hobbies

You ask him what he likes to do for fun.

He shrugs lazily, but his grin widens a bit. "I love hunting, camping, and sometimes fishing. I only like to fish in wild waters though, and there aren't many lakes on New Texas that are safe enough for it anyway. Other than that, same things as most guys on New Texas: working out, having sex, and doing both at the same time. You think these come naturally?" He flexes his arm to show off his muscled biceps, nearly ripping his sleeves in the process. "No, this is the fruit of hours in the gym. Plus, thanks to my job, my cardio's a hell of a lot better than most bulls'. Spending the bulk of your day walking and running through the wilderness will do that for you. 'Cardio kills gains' my ass..." he mutters.

You give him a bemused look, commenting that he seems proud of himself before asking why then it is that you only ever see him in the saloon talking to whores.

He laughs wickedly at your question. "Is that jealousy I hear? There's plenty of Ciaran to go around you know!" The hellhound parts his legs and pats his crotch as he speaks, his enormous shaft already half-hard and straining against its cloth prison.

You blush in {PC is exhibitionist: arousal //else: embarrassment} at his crude display. You respond as soon as you can gather yourself, telling him that no, you're simply curious why he would spend so much time talking to cows when most bulls simply want to fuck them. {PC is Treated: You can speak from experience there.}

Ciaran feigns a wounded expression, "What, can't a man just talk to beautiful women without trying to get them to spread their legs?" At the dubious look you shoot him he continues, "Look, I enjoy hearing women talk to me. I also enjoy intelligent conversation with them. The only time you can get a decent chat with a cow is in between fucks." He adopts a slightly wistful expression. "Lots of people write off Treated girls as airheaded and ditzy, so most cows don't get to have too many chats with bulls they don't live with. The thing is, plenty of those cows enjoy hearing a male perspective on their ideas. It also doesn't hurt that lots of those same girls love to repay their suave, rugged, and handsome conversation partners with a good blowjob once they start getting horny again. And hell, even if they're prostitutes they usually won't even charge for it. It's always 'Oh Ciaran, let me show you my thanks for listening to my silly little problems' before they crawl under the table or into my lap. I don't know that there's a better way to finish a pleasant little chat than a good suck or a hard fuck." {If PC Femininity 60 or greater: He gives you a meaningful stare after that last sentence, his arms spread in a welcoming gesture as his pheromones practically pour off of him.

{PC has pheromones: Smells //else: Looks} like the ausar is propositioning you. Do you want to have sex with him now?

[Yes] [No]

{If Yes go to sex menu //if No: You shake your head, insisting that while that may be the case, your own "pleasant little chat" isn't finished yet.

He rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling. "Well, what else did you want to ask before I bend you over the table?"}

//PC Femininity less than 60: He eyes you for a very brief moment before shaking his head and smiling ruefully. "I think I'd rather we continue our pleasant little chat for now though." He winks and smiles at you somewhat apologetically.

Well, at least he let you down easy.}

//PC gains moderate lust, pass 3 minutes.

His outfit

You ask him about his outfit. Why would he wear it if he doesn't like tourists asking him about it?

Ciaran sighs and lets his ears droop a bit before he answers you. "Well, I spend so much time in the saloon that the owner offered me a deal a few years back. She figured that since I was pretty much a fixture of the place, I might as well look the part. As long as I wear this ridiculous getup while I'm in here, I get free drinks. It was pretty great at first, but at this point some of the locals have made a game out of trying to get gullible tourists to believe I'm actually some sort of bandit. I enjoyed it the first year or two, because I'd garner more off-world girls paying attention to me, and I'd get to talk to them or even, hah, give them a little something to remember me by." He pantomimes placing his hands on a set of hips and makes a few vulgar thrusts with his pelvis before laughing loudly. "The last year or so though I've practically become a tourist attraction, and I can hardly stand it." His expression turns sour. "You would not believe how hard it is to get some rich asshole from the core to stop asking you questions without resorting to putting your fist through his face. Thankfully Kithran and her girls are always there before I can lose my temper."

{PC hasn't met Ms. Kittie:

You raise an eyebrow at him, not sure of who he means.

Your hellhound companion's smile returns. "You didn't meet her on the way in? Kithran, or as she calls herself on the clock 'Ms. Kittie.' She's the madam of the Broodmare Bordello, the brothel upstairs." He jabs his thick, furred thumb upwards twice. "The locals just call it the Cathouse though since almost half the girls who work for her are her daughters. That woman's been in this business since before the Bucking Bronco opened. I'm probably her best john. Kithran, well..." Ciaran pauses, seemingly at a loss for words. You're shocked to see he's actually blushing! When he finds the right words, they all seem to spill out at once. "She reminds me of old times, in the best way. I'll leave it at that." The normally cocksure ausar suddenly pulls his hat brim down to cover his cheeks, hiding his blush from you!

This Ms. Kittie must be something else if she can turn a predator like Ciaran bashful!

Has met Ms. Kittie:

You aren't too surprised to hear that. From what you've gathered in your time spent with her, Ms. Kittie seems like she'd be quite skilled at making peace. Between her physique, her Treated instinct to ensure cooperation, and her skill at controlling others, you imagine the Bucking Bronco doesn't see too many fights. When you look back at Ciaran after considering this however, you notice that he's gazing out the window at Ms. Kittie with a blush and an almost bashful look on his face!

The hellhound must have quite a history with the imposing kaithrit madam if she can turn a predator like him bashful!

}

Dad Jokes

//Just randomly choose one joke from this list each time this option is selected

During a lull in your conversation with Ciaran, he cracks a goofy smile and gives you a sidelong stare before breaking the silence. "Do you like jokes, kid?"

{PC is Mischievous or Bimbo: You nod your head enthusiastically and ask Ciaran if he knows any good ones. //else: You shrug your shoulders and tell Ciaran it depends on if the joke is any good or not.}

His smile grows even wider at your answer. Oh, you're gonna love this one then.

{//Big list o' terrible jokes: "

Did you hear about the restaurant on the asteroid? Great food, no atmosphere.

What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta.

How many apples grow on a tree? All of them.

Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind, it's tearable.

I just watched a program about beavers. It was the best dam program I've ever seen.

Why did the coffee file a police report? It got mugged.

How does a penguin build it's house? Igloos it together.

I once worked as a can crusher, but I had to quit. It was soda-pressing.

What do you call somebody with no body and no nose? Nobody knows!

I'm not addicted to brake fluid. I can stop anytime!

Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field.

Why don't skeletons ever go trick or treating? Because they have no body to go with.

What did the buffalo say to his son when he left for college? Bison!

What do you call an elephant that doesn't matter? An irrelephant.

Want to hear a joke about construction? Nevermind, I'm still working on it.

I bought a pair of shoes from a drug dealer once. I don't know what she laced them with, but I was tripping all day.

Why couldn't the bicycle stand up by itself? It was two tired.

What did the grape do when he got stepped on? He let out a little wine.

I wouldn't buy anything with velcro. It's a total rip-off.

The shovel was a ground-breaking invention.

Did you hear about the Terran who invented the knock knock joke? He won the no-bell prize.

What did the police molecule say to the suspect molecule? I've got my ion you!

Never trust atoms. They make up everything.

A recent survey found that 5/4 of people admit that they’re bad with fractions.

Two goldfish are in a tank. One says to the other, "do you know how to drive this thing?"

I once went to a wedding between two sattelite dishes. The ceremony was nothing special, but the reception was incredible!

What do you call a fat psychic? A four-chin teller.

I would avoid the sushi they serve around here. It’s a little fishy.

What do you call a pony with a sore throat? A little horse.

The rotation of New Texas really makes my day.

I thought about going on an all-almond diet. But that's just nuts.

What's brown and sticky? A stick.

I’ve decided I hate elevators. I'm going to start taking steps to avoid them.

Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees? Because they're so good at it.

Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? It's fine, he woke up.

A furniture store keeps calling me. All I wanted was one night stand.

I used to work in a shoe recycling center. It was sole destroying.

What's the loneliest kind of cheese? Provolone.

I don’t play soccer because I enjoy the sport. I’m just doing it for kicks.

People don’t like having to bend over to get their drinks. We really need to raise the bar.

I once tried this tropical fruit diet, but I didn't last long on it. It was enough to make a mango crazy!

I knew I shouldn't have eaten the seafood platter. Now I'm feeling a little eel.

I'd like to thank all the sidewalks out there for keeping me off the streets.

I used to really hate facial hair, but then it really grew on me.

I really hate jokes about sausage. They're the wurst!

This wedding I went to a few years ago was so beautiful. Even the cake was in tiers!

What lies at the bottom of the ocean and twitches? A nervous wreck.

Have you heard of that new band 1023 MB? Yeah, I'm not surprised. They haven't quite got a gig yet.

Do you know why crabs never donate to charity? They're just shellfish.

Why can't you have a hand that's more than 11 inches long? Because then it would be a foot.

}

You put your face in your hands and groan at the DILF's truly corny joke. He laughs uproariously as much at your reaction as at his own joke. You quickly change the subject before Ciaran can inflict more of his terrible humor on you.

//Pass two minutes, no I'm not sorry for writing this

His Scars

//greyed out if PC hasn't seen Ciaran's scars

{Initial: You're not sure if it's a sensitive topic for Ciaran, so you broach the subject of how he acquired his myriad scars as tactfully as you can. //repeat: Knowing that Ciaran takes some measure of pride in his myriad scars, you ask him to tell you again about how he acquired them.}

Initially you're worried you've offended the older man, as he fixes you with a stern gaze. {Silly mode: "You wanna know how I got these scars? My father, was... a drinker... and a fiend."} Just when you start to feel uncomfortable though, he breaks out laughing. "I'm just fucking with you, kid. Really gets your imagination running when I act all dodgy about my scars, right?"

You breathe a sigh of relief before conceding that yes, you were worried after asking him.

Ciaran chuckles mirthfully at your response, obviously pleased with himself. He stifles his laughter when he notices you aren't laughing though, giving you a more serious answer this time. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I'm actually a bit proud of my scars, but they still weren't fun to earn. Cut me a bit of slack if I try to get some enjoyment out of them after the fact." He shrugs contritely and grins.

Satisfied with his apology, you ask Ciaran how he received so many scars when modern medicine often prevents them in the first place.

He wags a furred finger at you while smiling roguishly. "See, you've sort of answered your own question there. Modern medicine might prevent most scarring, but when I received most of these injuries all I had access to was what could be provided in the field. Basically, just first aid stuff." As he speaks, Ciaran begins undressing from the waist up, quickly exposing his sculpted musculature and the many exotic scars covering his bare flesh. "I served more than a decade in the reconnaissance marines, and I volunteered for all the most dangerous postings and assignments. That usually meant that I was either deep in the wilderness or behind enemy lines, two places where you can't exactly set up a field hospital. Then there were instances where I either wouldn't or couldn't be extracted for what would be considered proper treatment. I always figured that if I could march and hold a gun, I was ready for duty. It didn't matter to me if I had been shot, burned, or bitten." Ciaran punctuates his last three words by first gesturing to an old bullet wound on his stomach, then turning around to show a plasma burn on his left scapula, and finally a very faded bite mark on his right side. The poses that the hellhound adopts to show off his old wounds have the very enjoyable side effect of displaying his chiseled physique in different states of flexion.{PC is bimbo: You have a hard time focusing on a bunch of old scar tissue when there's so much hunky muscle on display. Is he just doing this as an excuse to flex? Not that you care either way. You fan your flushed face with your hand, trying to pay attention to the ausar DILF's story.} He begins dressing himself once more{if Bimbo:, much to your chagrin,} before taking a seat again.

Well that at least explains why Ciaran's injuries scarred over. Your next question is how he received so many wounds in the first place. Even given the dangerous places he says he served, he should have had personal shields that would at least mitigate serious injury{PC is half-ausar, or bookworm, or tech specialist, or 15+ INT:, especially given that ausar shields are the best available}.

The expression Ciaran makes when he hears your question is something in between boastful and abashed. He takes a moment to chew over his answer, searching for just the right way to express himself. Finally though, Ciaran responds, "Well it's true that ausar shields are top of the line. That's sort of how I got into so much trouble though. See, I was really, and I mean really reckless when I was younger. I would do the craziest things and take the dumbest risks you can imagine, always relying on my shields to keep me alive. In hindsight it was damn foolish of me, but it's how I clawed my way up from enlisted to officer. Reckless and stupid are highly desired traits in a soldier, and volunteering for things nobody else wanted got me noticed by the brass. Even when I was a first lieutenant, I still went into the field as often as possible. Sending other people into danger when I was sitting in a bunker somewhere just never sat right with me. I always preferred leading from the front. But that's how I ended up with the injury that finally made me accept a medical discharge."

Ciaran taps the grievous scar on his neck that he normally conceals with his bandana. "This is the closest I ever came to dying. I was leading a squad on this little asshole of a planet, Noxia VI. It's a death world, barely charted thanks to the acid storms that destroy most probes. We were there to assault a slaver base{PC has asked Ciaran about his past:, something you know is a very personal issue to me,} and rescue any of the captives we could. We moved on foot to try to take the slavers by surprise, and during the march, I got pounced by a Noxian acid beast. Horrible creature. All of their bodily fluids are acidic, and their drool is the most corrosive of all. It tore through my shields in seconds and took a bite out of my neck. The acid burn it left is all that kept me from bleeding out. The rest of the squad lit that fucker up as soon as they saw it, but they still barely got to me in time. I had to be extracted, and I left service shortly thereafter." Ciaran ties his bandana around his neck as he finishes his story.

You give Ciaran a sympathetic look, patting his huge, furred hand comfortingly. Although he didn't seem particularly bothered by telling you his story, he still appreciates the gesture, as his tail wags slightly at your touch. You ask him if he has ever considered having his scars removed.

The ausar shakes his head before gesturing to his limbs. "No, I feel like it would be a waste of money that I'd rather just save. You can't see them under all the fur, but I've got some scars on my arms and legs too. The fur was actually white in those places, but I got a nice color restoration mod several years ago as a gift{PC has asked about Ciaran's past: from my daughter. Little Celina said she hated the way it made me look like an old man}. I've already started to grey again, but that color mod, the Treatment, and a mod for my eyes are the only mods I've ever indulged myself with. I just couldn't pass up something that let me see in the dark now that I'm a game warden. It was something I always wanted, but my new job let me get a tax write off for it.{PC is half or full kaithrit: I was always jealous of you kaithrit and your better night vision, so I just had to jump on the chance to share in that.} Even before that though, the Treatment changed my eye color from gold to what you see now."

You thank Ciaran for explaining his scars to you.

He flashes his usual cocky grin as he responds, "Anytime kid, anytime. Not every day you see scars like these anymore, so I'm always happy to show them off."

Annebelle

//Display as "???" if PC hasn't met Annebelle, with tooltip "You can't ask about someone you haven't met!"

You ask Ciaran about Annebelle, the young waitress.

Surprisingly, Ciaran smiles fondly rather than grinning lecherously as you would have expected. "Annebelle? She's a great kid. {Asked Ciaran about his past: She's so much like my darling little Celina. Same age, same height, hell, Annebelle was even a little tomboy when she was younger just like Celina was. //else: She really reminds me of home.} Then the hellhound's scarred face shifts into the expression you had expected: a lewd smirk. "To top it all off, {Silly mode: that foxy lil' Moo-moo's //else: Annebelle's} a great lay. It's so easy to get her off, even compared to most Treated girls. Just giving her a compliment's enough to make her juice her panties, and if you actually flirt with her? Well then she's wetter than a broken tank at the milk barn."

It sounds like Ciaran's relationship with Annebelle is more than just that of casual acquaintances. When you comment as much, the older man just laughs.

"Well it's New Texas, and we're both Treated. What would you expect from two folks who see each other almost every day?"

Fair point.

"It's not all just me drinking her milk and her drinking my cum though. Annebelle's got some troubles in her life. I don't know the full specifics on all of them because I don't pry, but there's something about her surrogate pregnancies that brings her a lot of grief."

You think aloud that it must be difficult for any mother to give up the child she has carried for so long. Although Ciaran nods and grunts a "yeah" when he hears your words, something about his expression tells you you're not quite on the mark. He doesn't elaborate however, instead simply carrying on as if you hadn't said anything.

"She lives alone, and she's always pregnant. That's enough reason for me to want to keep an eye on her, so I check in on her from time to time when I make my rounds. I also try to watch out for her here at the saloon. Plenty of tourists hear that New Texans are tougher than most humans and end up forgetting they need to treat a pregnant girl more delicately. Then there's the matter of her wardrobe." Ciaran's grin returns to him now. "Lots of people steal the underwear off the waitresses at the Bucking Bronco. Part of their uniform is a pair of cute little tie-on panties that you can just reach up under the mini-skirt and slip right off, and Annebelle's a favorite target. {PC has stolen Annebelle's panties before:" You try not to look too guilty as the ausar says this. "}That poor little cow's lost more panties {silly mode: than even the most cursed washing machine could eat //else: than some people have ever owned}. And she just gets so horny whenever it happens that she can't help but ride every cock she walks by. It's just one of the many little things that make life hard for her." Ciaran sighs forlornly and slumps his shoulders a bit. "I watch over that {silly mode: foxy lil' Moo-moo //else: girl} as best I can; she's almost like a second daughter to me. I try to ease her burdens where I can, but there's only so much an old dog like me can do for a girl that insists on staying independent."

It seems that underneath or perhaps in addition to any other relationship Ciaran may have with Annebelle, he really does feel fatherly towards her.

{PC is masculine and has a penis: That idea is only reaffirmed when the DILF across from you speaks to you a bit more sharply than is strictly necessary. "If you're planning on fooling around with Annebelle, just make damn sure you don't break her heart. I'm the only one she's got to pick up the pieces, and I don't think I've got it in me to put them back together. I'd be pissed at anybody that hurt Annebelle like that." He gazes at you meaningfully with his fiery orange eyes as he emphasizes "Anyone."

You gulp and assure the hellhound that you'd never do something like that.

Looks like Ciaran's paternal feelings for Annebelle are enough for him to feel romantically protective of her too. If you want to stay on the warden's good side, you should probably avoid upsetting Annebelle to any permanent end.}

//pass 5 minutes, return to talk menu

Head Scritches

//only accessible after talking to Ciaran at least once

Figuring Ciaran can't be treated like a proper puppy too often, you decide to spoil him a bit with some petting. Mischievously, you walk over to the hellhound's seat, careful not to give away your scheme too early.

{Initial:

He casts you a suspicious glance. "What are you doing? Are you up to something?" His ears flick before swiveling towards you like big, furry radar dishes. Those targets are just too tempting to resist.

You put on a face like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth and innocently explain to the older ausar as you step behind his chair that you'd simply like to take a closer look at his old-fashioned hat.

He scoffs at your explanation. "Yeah, you and every other tourist in this joint. Hell, if you want it so bad kid, how about you wear it for a bit? Maybe the tourists will think you're the outlaw for once." With that he reaches up to doff his hat before passing it to you. {PC >8 feet tall: It's a little snug on your head, but that's not what matters. //PC <8 feet tall but >7 feet: It's an almost perfect fit for you {has anubis or puppy ears: and it even has holes for your ears to fit through,} but that's not what matters. //PC >7 feet tall but <6 feet: His hat's just too big for your smaller head, slipping down over your eyes and blocking your vision, forcing you to wear it at a tilted angle. That's not what matters though. //PC >6 feet: His hat is comically large on you, making you look like a child wearing their father's hat and forcing you to tilt it back at an extreme angle to hang off your brow, but that's not what matters.} What matters is that the ausar has unwittingly cooperated with your plan.

Repeat:

Confident after his previous reaction that he won't be too upset about a repeat performance, you gently tug his hat right off of his head.

"Hey, what the hell?" Ciaran tries to reach for his hat, but you simply place it on your own head as you rest a hand comfortingly on his shoulder to prevent him standing up to retrieve his headwear as you explain your actions. You tell him you just think he could use a little more tender affection in his life.

He grumbles a bit, but he doesn't try to stop you. "Geez, if you're so hung up on this I guess I won't stop you. Just give me a little warning next time, kid."

}

//merge

You take a moment to stare at Ciaran's head and formulate your plan of attack. You can see that he has the usual two anubis-like ears of most ausar poking up through the thick black hair of his head, though the fur of his ears is thicker than is typical of most ausar, and his left ear has been notched by a past injury. Far less typical though are the massive horns poking out of his skull and up through his hair. You're pretty sure you heard somewhere that bovines enjoy having the base of their horns scratched. You'll just have to hope that's true of hellhounds as well.

Setting your strategy in motion, you move your fingers to Ciaran's canid ears, alternating between scratching at the bases and gliding your nails up the lengths of those aural attachments. You don't seem to elicit any reaction yet, but you're confident that will change with time. The fur of his ears is ridiculously soft and far finer than the hair on his head. It's a joy just to run your fingertips over the lustrous strands, so you begin lightly pinching the edges of his ears with your fingers to feel both inside and out. Whenever you linger for too long on one spot, the respective ear flicks reflexively.

Your DILFy puppy growls a complaint at you the third time this happens. "Hey, those are more sensitive than they look. You're really just itching me when you do that. {PC is ausar, half-ausar, huskar, or half-huskar: How do you not know this when your ears are the same?}"

You apologize to Ciaran, assuring him that you know what you're doing. To prove your words you increase the intensity of your scratching, compressing his ears and massaging them between your fingers and his skull, truly putting force behind the strokes of your digits. It's barely audible, but you think you hear a stifled groan of pleasure. The older ausar is trying his level best to hide how much he's enjoying being treated like a little puppy, but his struggles only spur you on to spoil him even more. You begin to alternate between scratching those furry aural organs and scratching at his scalp. The response is immediate: Ciaran's tail starts wagging, thumping into his chair at the apex of each swing. You place your mouth right next to his ear and whisper a very important question to him. "Who's a good boy?" It's barely audible, but you know he heard it.

The ausar grunts and tries to respond evenly, "Shut up, kid!" but he stutters a little from the pleasure of your ministrations. Grinning, you decide it's time to enact the last masterstroke of your strategy. Adding in another stop on the circuit your hands have been following around Ciaran's head, you worm your fingertips through your puppy's hair to the base of his horns and begin scratching around their circumference. The hellhound instantly lets out a groan of pleasure, and his tail doubles the speed of its wagging. He's actually panting now, his tongue drooping slightly out of the side of his mouth. You repeat your earlier question, loud enough for those around you to hear this time. "Are you a good puppy? Tell me who's a good little boy."

Ciaran closes his eyes in pleasure and hoarsely mutters, "Me."

You slow down your scratching and rubbing and insist he say it louder before repeating yourself a third time.

With a groan of equal parts frustration, embarrassment, and enjoyment, the helpless DILF responds loudly "I'm a good boy! I'm such a good puppy! Please pet me more!" He rubs his head into your hands, desperate for more stimulation on his animalistic anatomy.

You laugh cheekily and tell him he's right, that surely such a good puppy deserves more petting. You redouble your earlier efforts, and the tall ausar adonis melts underneath you. He's putty in your hands at this point. You're pretty sure you could make him bark for you if you wanted. You decide to go easy on him for now though, instead spoiling the middle-aged puppy for over a quarter of an hour, occasionally telling him that he's a good boy or that he's strong or handsome. You heap him with praise and affection, appreciating the happy sounds he makes or the murmurs of agreement you sometimes receive. When your fingers grow sore from lavishing care for so long, you pat Ciaran on the head a few times with a final "Good boy."

Your puppy sits there dumbly for several seconds after you stop petting him, a dopey smile on his face and his eyes still closed. When he opens them again he's still blushing, but he turns to look at you with a more serious face. "I enjoyed that a lot kid, but you're really pushing your luck. Don't call me a puppy again when you aren't doing that unless you want some serious pain." The stern warning is undercut by his still rapidly wagging tail, but he does give you an idea. You know now how to make Ciaran want to punish you. Maybe you could do something with this information?

{Fem<60: While you're still considering this, Ciaran takes his hat back from you and pats you on the head. He grins at you for a moment and wags his tail before donning his headwear again and moseying over to the bar, leaving you happy to have made another so happy. //else: While you're still considering this, the DILF stands up and turns bodily to face you before taking his hat back from you and using it to cover the warm kiss he plants on your [pc.lips] from prying eyes. It only lasts a few seconds, but the kiss is tender and affectionate, almost as if Ciaran were trying to return as quickly as possible all of the pampering you've given him in the last fifteen minutes. You swoon, and he breaks the kiss with a smile in place of his usual cocky smirk before placing his cowboy hat on his head snugly over his horns again. He winks at you before moseying over to the bar, leaving you happy to have made another so happy.}

//15 minutes pass, put PC back in saloon. Unlock [Get Spanked] option under sex.

Get Scritched

//only unlock if the PC has animal ears and after accessing the Head Scritches scene once.

You're surprised when Ciaran wordlessly shifts over to the seat next to your own; you're downright stunned when he cups your cheek and kisses you tenderly. You swoon as his free hand moves to your [pc.ear], scratching the delicate skin just behind the protrusion. The DILF continues his surprisingly delicate kiss until you run out of air, continuing to pet your [pc.ear] even when you break the liplock to pant for breath. "Good [pc.boyGirl]," he whispers to you softly, just a hint of a grin on his rugged face.

You blush heavily, finally realizing that he's paying you back for your previous treatment of him, in more ways than one. Ciaran strokes your cheek briefly with his furred hand before moving that same hand to your head. He uses his claws to scratch at your scalp while running his fingers through your [pc.hair] tenderly. You feel tingles run through your body from the pleasurable contact, and you eagerly nuzzle into the hellhound's warm touch. The claws of Ciaran's left hand are extremely sharp, but he strokes you with the greatest finesse, never even coming close to harming you. {PC race is kaithrit or half-kaithrit: You're amazed at how skilled the ausar is at petting you given that you're a [pc.race]; he must have a great deal of experience lavishing affection on kaithrit to be so adept at pampering you. The sharp touch of his claws excites your own instincts as a [pc.race]. This is exactly how another kaithrit would stroke you! The DILF gently tilts your head back with his other hand and begins stroking your chin and throat as he whispers so softly that only you can hear it. "Good kitty. You're such a good little kitty." His praises make you purr happily.} He places both hands on the top of your head and repeatedly runs his fingers through your [pc.hair], tickling your scalp with his claws {PC has horns: and massaging the base of your [pc.horns] delightfully} as he continues to whisper quiet praises to you.

Ciaran spends a few minutes massaging and scratching at your head before he starts to slow down. You press eagerly into his hands, but he completely stops his ministrations when you do. The low rumble of his voice breaks you from your reverie. "I only pet good {PC is kaithrit/half-kaithrit/naleen: kitties // else: puppies} for longer than this. If you want me to keep it up, you'll have to tell everybody exactly what kind of {PC is kaithrit/half-kaithrit/naleen: kitty // else: puppy} you are."

You blink a few times before what Ciaran is asking you to do sinks in. You hesitate momentarily; when you do, he starts to remove his hands from your head. Without thinking, you immediately and loudly declare that you are a very good {PC is kaithrit/half-kaithrit/naleen: kitty // else: puppy}, and that you want Ciaran to keep praising you like the little pet you are. Your cheeks burn and you close your eyes in embarrassment when you realize what you've said and just how many people are now staring at you and chuckling, but your words have the desired effect. The ausar redoubles his earlier efforts, scratching affectionately at {PC has human ears and no horns: all of the most sensitive spots on your head and neck, including several you didn't even know you had //else: your animal anatomy, demonstrating his mastery at massaging your ears {PC has horns: and around your horns}}. You involuntarily {PC is kaithrit/half-kaithrit/naleen: purr // else:sigh} in pleasure as your whole body tingles. Ciaran spends the next quarter of an hour pampering you. He scratches and rubs around your [pc.ears] with the skill of a master, he compliments all of your features, and above all else assures you that you are indeed a very good [pc.boyGirl].

When you receive a final pat on the head and one last "Good [pc.boyGirl]," you open your eyes in confusion. As soon as you do Ciaran pulls you by the chin into a warm, passionate kiss, sending you swooning again. His kiss is tender, sensual, and sadly brief. You moan in disappointment as the hellhound separates from you, already feeling a bit lonely without his touch on your body.

Ciaran smiles at you mirthfully. "Sorry, but that's the same amount of time you gave me. Of course, I've got a lot more experience, so I'm a lot better at this whole petting thing than you are, kid. I think you might even owe me some ear-scratching now." He punctuates his teasing words with a good-natured wink. You roll your eyes and thank Ciaran for his efforts. He just grins and chuckles deeply as he stands up from his seat and moseys over to the bar. "Anytime, [pc.name]. Anytime."

You collect yourself and leave the table as well. With skills like that Ciaran could probably work as a masseuse!

//pass 15 minutes, return PC to saloon proper

His Past

//This is greyed out until you visit Ciaran's house, or ask Ms. Kittie or Annebelle about it

You ask Ciaran if he's from New Texas; given his lack of an accent he must surely be from elsewhere?

It's almost too quick to be sure, but you think you see him frown at this question. By the time you notice the change however, he's all smiles again. "Where to begin? {Silly mode: Between the time when the oceans drank Atlantis and the rise of the sons of Aryas, there was an age undreamed of. And unto this, Ciaran, destined to wear the jeweled crown of Ausarilonia upon a troubled brow.} I was one of the first children born on a newly-colonized world on the frontier. It was pretty much on the fringe of civilized space at the time, and even now I promise you've never heard of the place. It's an agricultural world very like New Texas, only a good deal hotter. We dealt with a lot of raids from pirates and slavers over the years." He pauses briefly, adopting a more serious tone. "I actually lost my mother and siblings to slavers when I was fairly young."

You're shocked to hear him tell you something so personal when you haven't even asked him directly. It must show plainly on your face, because Ciaran cuts you off when you try to speak.

"Don't worry about it. I came to terms with it decades ago. Which brings me nicely to the next part of my story: joining my planet's self-defense force. See, I was damned determined to make sure nobody else went through what I did, so as soon as I came of age I joined the planetary defense force, the marines specifically. After I finished my first tour of duty two years later I had a little angel that I named after my mother, Celina. She's beautiful, just like my mother before her. Actually, I've got some pictures of my little Celina right here." He pulls a codex out of his comparatively massive pocket and moves to the seat next to your own, opening a few files on the device's screen before presenting it to you. The album in front of you is filled with thousands of pictures and videos of a beautiful girl with long, lavender hair. Her round-pupiled gold eyes, lavender-furred limbs, sharp claws, and two long and incredibly fluffy tails clearly mark her as a kaithrit-ausar hybrid.

Ciaran's normally hyper-sexual attitude has completely disappeared, replaced with simple paternal pride and affection for his daughter as he shows you images, videos, and holo-clips of Celina. In just a few minutes the enthusiastic ausar takes you through his daughter's life from infancy all the way to her recent college graduation. Strangely, only a small handful of the images after the first dozen or so contain Ciaran, and most bizarrely of all is that none show Celina with anyone who could be mistaken for her mother. In most pictures or videos where you would expect to see the young girl's parents, you instead see an increasingly elderly kaithrit couple, and in some photos you even see {has met Mrs. Reasner and Traven: Mrs. Reasner and her husband Traven //else: an older, maternal Terran woman with brown hair and a ruggedly handsome, white-haired half-ausar man} with Celina. Ciaran is also absent from many of the photos, and only in the recent graduation shot is he Treated. Eventually Ciaran pockets his codex and continues telling his story, cutting off any chance you may have had to ask further questions.

"I re-enlisted when Celina was two. My father had just passed away of natural causes, and I came under even more stress shortly after that. I enlisted this time with the Royal Ausaril Reconnaissance Marines, for the better pay and family benefits. I served with enough distinction to actually work my way up to commissioned officer. You're talking to First Lieutenant Eildean right now." The older man adopts a mock military pose and a falsely serious expression for a moment before chuckling and relaxing again.

"I ended up spending most of my service time in the wilderness, and I absolutely loved it. Sure, it was often a horrifying death world we got sent, but I was getting a chance to see the galaxy, break up slaver rings, and kill pirates, all while getting paid. But a few near-death experiences made me think I might be in the wrong line of work. After the third time I had my guts shoved back into me, I was given a medical discharge. I decided a slightly safer job would be more my speed, so I signed on with a ship called the S.S. Inexorable. {PC has met Beatrice Reasner: You're surprised to hear a ship you actually know of. You tell Ciaran that you have met the captain of the S.S. Inexorable. The hellhound looks incredibly wistful when he hears that. In his usual evasive manner though, he continues on without an explanation of his reaction.}

"Those years on the Inexorable were some of the best of my life. I was in a pretty bad place emotionally when I signed on. The captain and her husband really helped me get my shit together; being part of their crew is less like being an employee and more like being a member of their family. They even had me move Celina onto the ship with me, and treated her like she was their own daughter. And apparently they thought I was good at my job. Hell, if I had stayed another few years I would've been a department head."

"If?" you ask. If his time on the Inexorable was as good for him as he said, why did he leave?

Ciaran sighs deeply at your question, taking a moment to consider his words. "That's really a story for another time. All I'll say is that even though I was working through my old problems, I started developing some new ones, and the only solution to them was to part ways. I left amicably; hell, I played host to the captain's husband, Traven, just last year when he visited New Texas. It was just time for me to go my own way for once. By this point I had a pretty impressive resume, so I was able to use all that training and experience to become a fairly high-class bodyguard in the core worlds. I spent years moving from contract to contract, taking on the jobs nobody else was stupid enough to in hopes of finding something lucrative that would last more than a few months. Ironically, it was when I was between jobs that I ended up getting my big break."

You crook an eyebrow at that and admit you're curious just what he means.

His cocky grin returns as he responds more than a little smugly. "Well you know the governor of this planet, Governor Tee?"

It's your turn to be smug when you answer {PC has met Big T: yes, you do know Big T and were invited to New Texas by him personally. //else: that though you were invited to New Texas by Big T, you haven't managed to meet him yet."}

Ciaran gives an impressed-sounding whistle, but his next statement makes it seem a bit sarcastic. "Well, not all of us are important enough to get an invitation from the planetary governor. In my case I was just walking down a lonely street one evening when I bumped into a huge human with bull horns and a tail. Keep in mind I was still barely over six feet at the time, so I bounce off this towering human and fall on my tail. While he's still apologizing to me I see a group of people with knives and clubs stepping out of a nearby alley behind him. Firearms were off-limits to civilians on this world, but since I was a bodyguard I was licensed to carry one, and it was damn lucky that I had actually worn my gun that day, because the group starts shouting about how this giant human has been oppressing people and mind-controlling them with poison, and about how they're there to kill him to make a statement about freedom. As soon as they start rushing him, I just throw myself in between him and the assassins. I got stabbed a few times for my trouble; they were just flesh wounds, so I still managed to fend the lunatics off until peace-keepers arrived. As the saying goes, once a marine, always a marine."

You compliment Ciaran on his heroics {PC is Merc: and ask how many of the assassins he defeated}.

The retired marine holds his hands up in false modesty. "Oh, there were just a little over two dozen of them. I shot half of them. The peace-keepers got there pretty quickly or I would've gotten more; thankfully they all survived since they got medical attention immediately. The important bit though is that their would-be victim turned out to be Big T's cousin. He promised me I'd never have to risk my life again if I didn't want to, and that he'd set me up on New Texas with the Treatment and any job I wanted with enough pay to keep me and my family comfortable for life."

You flash him a puzzled look, asking if he was at all concerned about taking the Treatment after what he heard his assailants say about it.

Ciaran throws his head back and laughs at your question. "I don't generally put much stock in what crazy alley assassins say. Now I did look into the Treatment before I took it, and I can't say I'm totally in love with every aspect of it. For example, I like women with something between their ears besides thoughts of cock. When I read more about it though I figured I could work with it. After all, the cows aren't actually stupid. No, they're just... distracted, and you would be amazed at what some of them will do if you promise them the right thing. In the first year I was here I promised a cow I'd arrange a gang-bang in the milking barn for her if she could solve a few calculus equations from one of my old textbooks by hand. She had to study for a few days to learn how to do it, but once she got the hang of it she solved them right away. I had to pay for the cleaning bill in the milk barn, but I think it was worth it. I don't believe the Treatment's a bad thing at all. I certainly wouldn't give it to the whole galaxy, but the only time I've ever been happier since taking the Treatment was when Celina was born."

Despite the grin as he claims this, you can't help but feel that Ciaran is leaving some key details out of this story: namely, he never mentioned anything about Celina's mother, and you didn't see her in any of the pictures or holos he showed you. Perhaps if he trusted you more and you had a bit of privacy, he might open up?

Sex

You feel like a roll in the hay with the handsome hellhound, but as if he had a sixth sense for your arousal his deep voice rumbles out before you can proposition him.

{Femininity<60: "I know what you're thinking there, kid. I can {Treated: smell //else: see} it before you even ask. I'll go ahead and save you some trouble: I understand why you'd want to hop on my cock, but I'm just not really interested. I prefer folks who are more on the feminine side, regardless of what's in their pants." Ciaran tries to soften the blow, but you're still disappointed.

He notices your expression and smiles more genuinely at you. "Hey, don't feel bad, kiddo. You're on a whole planet of horny bulls and cows who are much less discriminating. I just prefer more feminine types when I can get them. And like I said, there's a whole planet's worth of horny cows I can bend over and fuck any time I want. Maybe if we were the only ones around for a couple days though, then I might interested. It'd be far from the first time," he says with a wink.

At first you think Ciaran might be joking, but his tone and expression are totally serious. You change the topic before the situation can become awkward, but you're left wondering how exactly you might end up alone with the oddly-attired ausar for a few days. //else: "{Silly mode: U wan sum fuk? ;) //else: So you want to fuck?}" Ciaran grins at you wolfishly, the bulge in his pants visibly shifting and growing. "Most girls just give me a good blowjob, but I've got a few other ideas for you." He's already standing up and moving towards you, bulge still growing. He stops when he's standing behind your chair, leaving you in his massive shadow as he places his furred hands on your shoulders. You can feel the power of his muscles through his grip and the claws of his fingers pricking at your [pc.skinFurScales] {not nude: through your gear}; your body flushes with warmth as his scent and raw masculine presence completely subsume your personal space.

It's clear from his aggressive posture that he will be the dominant partner in any sexual activity here. How will you have him take you?

[Get Fingerfucked] [Get Spanked] [Vanilla] [Lap Fuck] [Heat Sex] //grey out Heat Sex if PC not in heat or deep heat

Sex scenes

Get Fingerfucked

//Requires genitals of some kind, no taurs lol

//tooltip: Have the handsome hellhound put those big hands of his to work. He'll probably feed you your cum if you have any.

[Cock] You're going to get some fingers in your ass and some of your own cum in your mouth. And you're going to like it.

[Pussy] Get your pussy played with!

You shudder as Ciaran firmly squeezes your shoulders a few times, the smells of distant lightning and rain on hot earth intensifying as his pheromone production ratchets up, conjuring mental images of a powerful summer storm approaching you. The ausar leans down to position his face less than an inch from your head, filling your senses with yet more of his personal scent. When he speaks, it's in a rumbling whisper that you both feel and hear. {Silly mode: "Do you even knot, bro?" //else: "I think I'll just strip you down and toy with you a bit. Would you like that young + pc.mf("man", "lady") + ?"} His lips nip at your [pc.ears] as he asks you this, the short hairs of his beard adding a scruffy, masculine texture to the experience. Your cheeks color as you mutter your agreement to his proposal.

The moment you do, Ciaran's powerful arms lift you out of your seat and pull you flush you with his body, his groin pressing into your {PC <4'0: shoulders //PC <7'0: back //PC >7'0: [pc.ass] }. He feels incredibly warm, almost feverish compared to a normal human or ausar, and his body heat only adds to the feeling of dominance he has over you right now; you aren't even in full control of your own temperature anymore, your face already flushing from the heat as much as the arousal.

He takes his time with your [pc.gear], scattering pieces everywhere as he strips you, lingering far longer than necessary on any interesting bits of anatomy he uncovers. As the DILF finishes denuding you, his furred hand grabs your chin and forcefully turns your head towards him. Your partner cups your cheek as he leans in to kiss your [pc.lipsChaste], his beard brushing your face. His broad, powerful tongue penetrates your mouth, dominating your [pc.tongue] in a mirror of his domination of your body. Ciaran cups one of your [pc.breasts] and roughly tweaks your [pc.milkyNipple] {pc is lactating:, his bulge swelling with excitement and pressing harder into you when [pc.milk] wets his fingers}. He then slides that same hand down your [pc.belly], his sharp claws grazing you just enough for you to know he could hurt you if he wished before arriving at your [pc.groin].

{Cock:

The ausar's sharp claws dance over your [pc.cockSmallest] before he starts slowly but forcefully jerking your shaft, his thumb teasing your [pc.cockHeadSmallest] at the apex of each pump and slathering pre-cum on your shaft. Within just a short time, you've smeared your member and his fur with your [pc.cumFlavor] pre-seed, and you moan into his kiss when a particularly large spurt of the the stuff is pumped out of you by the forceful hellhound.

Ciaran breaks the kiss to chastise you, his low voice practically vibrating through you when he speaks. "Now look what you've done. You've gotten my hand downright filthy. " + pc.mf("Boys", "Girls") + " have to clean up after themselves when they make a mess." With that he stuffs his digits into your mouth, being careful not to scratch you with his claws. Your own [pc.cumFlavor] scent cuts through the fog of pheromones that have been swamping you as you are forced to suckle your pre-cum off of the fingers you so diligently soiled. Ciaran doesn't content himself with simply filling your maw; he lewdly thrusts his digits in and out of your mouth as if he were finger-fucking your face, not stopping until well after all of his fingers are cleaned of your fluids.

After all the steamy kissing and finger sucking, your breathing is ragged. You've barely had a spare moment to think about anything other than the pleasure being forced through your body since the start of this encounter, much less catch your breath. As sweat beads on your face and limbs, Ciaran whispers to you again, "That was very good, kid. Now I'm clean enough for what comes next." His saliva-soaked fingers stroke your cheek possessively before moving down and around your body. You feel a fluffy texture and sudden pressure at your [pc.asshole], and your eyes go wide as you realize Ciaran is forcing his fingers into your ass. Thanks to the spit you so lovingly applied to the digits, one of those thick appendages batters right into your sphincter, {Anal looseness<2: even in spite of your tightness. The sudden penetration leaves your ass spasming in a vain attempt to keep out the probing digit, but it just ends up making the ausar wiggle his excessively warm finger around even more in an effort to force you open. //Anal looseness >2: your trained orifice gladly accepting something warm to keep it company. The ausar wiggles his digit around in your anus, stoking your passion even higher.}

You cry out as Ciaran's warm finger slides in past the knuckle and wiggles inside you, but the real treat comes when he starts slowly thrusting the digit in and out. You rock your [pc.hips] back and forth reflexively, which your partner takes as a sign to speed up his fingering. Easing your clenching {silly mode: boipucci //else sphincter} open with his ministrations, Ciaran adds a second thick finger to your [pc.asshole], the heat of his digits sending shivers of pleasure through you. He starts kissing and nipping at your ears and neck, leaving trails of hickeys and love bites{PC has no fur: for everyone to see}. His breath comes hot on your neck, making you sweat even more.

By now your arousal is almost painful, your neglected [pc.cockSmallest] hard and dripping pre-cum onto the floor. You beg Ciaran to stop teasing you as your hips buck helplessly in an effort to find any sort stimulation for your manhood you possibly can. All you manage to do is drive yourself even crazier, the sensation of the air itself tickling your shaft arousing you to madness.

The ausar DILF lets you thrust into the breeze for a few moments while he continues molesting you, tracing his lips over your face and neck, nibbling your ears, and teasing your ass with his powerful, furred fingers. Just when you feel you simply can't stand it anymore, he growls into your [pc.ear] in a harsh, mocking whisper "Are you sure you can handle the next part? I'm not entirely convinced you can, little {boy/girl}."

You loudly cry out that what you can't handle is anymore teasing, and you're more than ready for him to finish you off. You don't care if everyone around can hear or see you; right now you are so horny that release is all you can think of.

This answer seems to be what Ciaran wanted to hear, as he grins wickedly and quietly rumbles out "You asked for it." You moan happily as his free hand swiftly grasps your [pc.cockSmallest] and begins jerking you off, the action producing loud, lewd sounds and causing more pre-seed to leak into the small puddle you've already created beneath you. Your eyes cross and your [pc.tongue] drops out of your mouth as you feel his fingers suddenly press into your prostate. The dominant ausar alternates the movement of his hands so that each forward thrust of your [pc.hips] has his hand sliding down your dick, and each return has your prostate battering right into those thick fingers buried in your ass. You feel your [pc.balls] tightening and a tensing sensation in your lower abdomen, and you exultantly announce to Ciaran and every other person in the room that you're cumming!

You feel like a champagne bottle shaken until the cork bursts out as [pc.cum] erupts out of you in messy spurts. {Cum normal amount: You groan as you pump rope after rope of [pc.cumColor] seed on the floor, the puddle of pre-cum from earlier tripling in size as [pc.cum] splatters onto your [pc.feet]. Ciaran prolongs your orgasm by milking your prostate{has knot: and squeezing your knot} throughout. //Cum a lot: Your virility tends to make a mess of things, and now is no exception: you groan as you fire off rope after slimy rope of [pc.cumColor] goo, splattering jizz on the floor, your chair, and even the table in front of you as Ciaran milks every ounce you have to give from your prostate. You're left an insensate mess by the time you finally stop cumming.} {PC is herm: [pc.eachVagina] creams itself and everything in your vicinity, leaving your [pc.legs] soaked with copious amounts of [pc.girlCum].}

Rather than stopping or even slowing down once you've finished cumming, the domineering hellhound actually doubles the speed and intensity of his strokes. He fits a third finger into your asshole, ramming it in even through the clenching of your sphincter. You whine from the overstimulation. Your [pc.cockSmallest] is so ridiculously sensitive after such an intense orgasm that it's almost painful. You shout out obscenities and desperately flail your arms back at Ciaran, begging the older man to stop. He simply grins down at you lustily, those sharp teeth bared in the most predatory look you've yet seen from him. Your [pc.legs] spasm for a moment before giving out entirely, but the hellhound easily supports your full weight without missing a beat in his torturous performance, leaving just one more part of your being in his full control.

The already-furious handjob picks up in intensity as Ciaran fits a fourth finger into your spasming [pc.asshole] to join its sinfully thick brothers in raking at your prostate. Even though you just got through an orgasm such a short time ago, your body is forced to dredge up another. Your {has balls: [pc.balls] {have/has} //else: prostate has} nothing to give, but it doesn't stop your [pc.cockSmallest] from spasming frantically, an aching feeling of emptiness emanating from your {[pc.balls]//prostate}.

When your second orgasm finishes, Ciaran finally stops masturbating you. He removes his fingers from your [pc.asshole], leaving your anus agape and feeling as empty as your {[pc.balls]//prostate}. He gathers up the [pc.cum] still clinging to your shaft using his other hand, bringing it to your mouth for you to taste. Your chest is still heaving from the exertion of your back-to-back orgasms, but you dutifully clean the soiled fur of his fingers, your [pc.cumFlavor] taste swamping your tastebuds. Once the ausar is satisfied with your spit-shine, he pops his digits free of your mouth and spins you around before planting a deep kiss on your lips, his tongue plundering your mouth for all the residual [pc.cumNoun] clinging to your gums and teeth. It's a far more passionate kiss than his previous lustful ones, and somehow it almost seems apologetic. It doesn't last very long, and while you're thankful to have a chance to breathe again, you're a little sad it's over.

Seeing that your [pc.legs] still won't support you, Ciaran gently sets you down in your chair. Now that you're away from his incredible body heat the room actually feels a bit cold. You cross your [pc.arms] and pull your [pc.legs] into your seat, the sweat covering your [pc.skinFurScales] exacerbating the chilled feeling rising in you. When your paramour notices your plight, he reaches into his pocket and produces an enormous handkerchief. He sets about cleaning off your sweat and sexual fluids, and you're happy to have a bit of his warmth again. You settle back and enjoy your afterglow as the DILF tends to you almost like a father would a child who had spilled something on themselves. When he's satisfied that you're clean and warm enough, he gathers up your [pc.gear] and sets it all on the table in front of you. Only when you stand up to get dressed again do you notice that most of the nearby patrons in the saloon have been watching the two of you. Most of them stop looking when they realize there isn't going to be any more action, but you still feel {exhibitionist: proud //else: embarrassed} that so many people just watched you cum yourself stupid.

Ciaran breaks your reverie with a genial laugh and a surprisingly gentle pat on the back. "You make for a pretty fun toy, kid. Hopefully I didn't go too hard on you, because I'd love to play with you again."

You blush fiercely at the thought, but you tell him that you're going to need some time to recharge before he can play with you again.

He chuckles at your response. "Well while you do that, I'm gonna go find somebody to handle this hard-on you gave me. Take care, kid." He kisses you on the forehead and bids farewell before walking over to a trio of half-kaithrit whores. You watch him take all three feline girls under his arms and disappear up the stairs with them, the young women giggling the whole way. You can guess what they're about to be doing. {silly mode: Playing boardgames of course.} You put on the last of your gear before you step away from the table, an employee with a high-tech wet-vacuum disguised as an old-fashioned push broom already beginning to clean up the mess you made.

//PC should have cum twice. 30 minutes pass. Return PC to saloon, balls should be empty. Add moderate exhibitionism. Decrease Libido 1 point. Remove Ciaran for 2 hours then return him.

Pussy:

The ausar's thick, powerful fingers press insistently at your labia, alternating between firm strokes and dextrous teases, gliding up and down the length of your womanhood. When your [pc.girlCum] starts flowing in earnest, Ciaran uses two fingers on your lower lips to spread your pussy wide open while tracing just inside your entrance with his thumb, the thick fur on the digit producing a thigh-soaking sensation as it simultaneously teases the inside and outside of your vagina. {PC is in heat or deep heat:

As the smell of your [pc.girlCum] wafts up from your crotch, Ciaran breaks from the kiss and inhales deeply. He smacks his lips and aggressively presses his crotch into you. A shudder of excitement runs up your spine as you feel his erection growing to full, throbbing hardness in response to your fertile scent. The ausar draws his hand from your pussy, taking a long whiff of your fluids before lapping them off of his fingers. When he speaks, his tone is almost bestial. "I could smell it before you even walked in. There's no finer smell in the universe. You're in heat. Desperate to be bred." Ciaran returns his hand to tracing the lips of your desperate pussy as he growls into your [pc.ear], "Pretty young thing like you can't have been in heat too many times. I bet you wandered in here hoping there'd be some experienced older man who knew what to do. Well I know exactly what to do." His erection throbs against you as he teases you before sealing his lips against your own again.}

You try to clench your [pc.thighs] in an attempt to draw him into penetrating you, but the dominant hellhound foils your efforts by wedging one of his thickly-muscled legs between your thighs, the rough fabric of his pants only adding to the already-unbearable teasing of your labia as the cloth quickly becomes completely soaked in your [pc.girlCum]. You moan into Ciaran's kiss and desperately try to buck your hips into his hand, but he denies you by keeping exact pace with your movements so that his hand is always in the same position relative to your [pc.pussy].

Only when you accept the futility of resistance with an agonized moan and a stilling of your [pc.hips] does your older lover finally penetrate you. The fingers that were previously spreading you open suddenly spear into you, each one as thick as the average Terran penis, and far more flexible. {PC is virgin: Ciaran's questing digits stop when they brush your hymen. The ausar gasps softly into your mouth, his eyes opening wide in surprise as he breaks the kiss. "You're a virgin?" he asks, slightly incredulous. You blush in embarrassment and nod your head. He smiles warmly before planting a brief kiss on your heated forehead. "Well, we'll keep it that way for now, but you won't be one for long if you keep letting big, strong, older men grope you in public." You shut him up with a kiss, and he allows the slight rebellion, continuing on before the situation becomes awkward.} His furred extremities explore your tunnel like hounds scenting game, seeking out all of your most sensitive spots and scoring runnels of pleasure into your [pc.pussy] from which your [pc.girlCum] flows freely, {vaginal wetness <3: wetting your alien paramour's thigh with more and more liquid lust. //vaginal wetness 3 or 4: soaking your thighs and your alien paramour's entire pants leg. //vaginal wetness >4: audibly dripping onto your partner's pants and absolutely drenching your legs as it pours out of your [pc.pussy] to puddle on the floor between your feet.} Your seasoned partner seems to instinctively know the most pleasurable parts of your anatomy, and he leaves you helplessly juicing yourself as your limp tongue is ruthlessly dominated by his own far more experienced muscle. When Ciaran moves his hand from your cheek to massage your [pc.breasts], you are treated to a new chord of pleasure in the carnal symphony. The wonderful feelings he has been forcing onto you quickly become overwhelming when those clawed fingertips predatorily circle a [pc.nipple] before latching on and tugging, {PC is lactating: forcing your [pc.milk] to flow as freely as your cries and moans harmonize beautifully with the melody of your pleasure. //else: the faint notes of pain harmonizing beautifully with the melody of your pleasure.}

Between the frequency of the moans Ciaran forces out of you and the duration of his kisses, you quickly run short of breath. The hellhound never seems to break a kiss to breathe himself; your lips only part when he notices you need air, and even then only long enough for you to gasp in a shallow lungful, every molecule of oxygen you take in polluted with his feral aphrodisiac musk and stoking your passion higher and higher. You feel light-headed as much from hypoxia as from sheer overwhelming arousal.

In spite of all the stimulation you're receiving, you realize that your clitoris has never once been touched. Ciaran has subtly avoided so much as brushing against it with his fur; it would almost be impressive if it weren't so tantalizing! Every time your climax starts to build, you are maddeningly edged by the dominant ausar. Whenever you try to grind your horny puss on the thigh he's using to spread your legs, he pulls it out of reach. Whenever you try to buck your hips into his fingers for deeper penetration he completely removes them from your womanhood to tweak your nipples instead, only returning those devious digits when you still your pelvis again. When you can no longer stand his teasing, you pull your lips away from his and beg him to let you orgasm.

He laughs and growls into your [pc.ear] in a harsh, mocking whisper "Are you sure you can handle the next part? I'm not entirely convinced you can, little {boy/girl}." He stops moving his fingers.

You desperately cry out that what you can't handle is anymore teasing, and you're more than ready for him to finish you off. You don't care if everyone around can hear or see you; right now you are so horny that release is all you can think of.

This answer seems to be what Ciaran wanted to hear, as he grins wickedly and quietly rumbles out "You asked for it."

You mewl happily and a little deliriously as his fingers spring into action again, two of those thick digits penetrating your defenseless womanhood and moving straight for your G-spot. He grinds your clitoris insistently with the palm of his hand while his fingers rapidly plunder your love tunnel, the forceful penetration giving off an incredibly loud and lewd wet sound as your [pc.girlCum] splatters all over his hand. Your eyes roll back into your head as you moan like a whore in heat at the stimulation. After having been edged for so long, this sort of fingering takes only a few seconds to push you over the edge. Your cries of pleasure climax into one continuous howl of ecstasy as you feverishly buck your [pc.hips} into Ciaran's hand as you cream all over his digits, your body instinctively trying to place the source of your pleasure as deeply inside you as possible so that the orgasmically-contracting walls of your pussy can properly milk your partner for seed that just won't come. Ciaran doubles the speed and force of his fingering as you climax, forcing you to squirt helplessly all over his hand and your legs, your [pc.girlCum] coating your respective lower halves. {PC has dick: [pc.eachCock] spurts seed in spite of being completely left out of the fun.} You thrust your hips all throughout your blissful orgasm, maximizing the pleasure of your long-awaited release. As your climax winds down however, Ciaran's forceful masturbation only increases, all five of his fingers coming into play as he fits a third digit into your canal and uses the others to mercilessly pleasure your [pc.clits], pulling back the clitoral hood{s} to maximize the sensation.

You moan desperately as you try to clench your [pc.thighs] in an effort to force the hellhound's hand away, but you only succeed in pushing him deeper into your pussy and harder into your button. You plead with the ausar in a mewling tone, your voice breaking from the overstimulation as you beg him to stop teasing you. He merely grins down deviously at you and tugs your [pc.nipples] with his other hand {PC is lactating:, milking you like a farm animal} before he silences your cries for mercy with another tongue-filled kiss.

Sweat pours off of you from his body heat and the strain of your extended orgasm, and you practically scream into his mouth. Your entire body heaves and shudders from the overwhelming pleasure that courses from your pleasure buzzer{s}, and your mind clouds over. When your entire world contracts to the feeling of his hands toying with your body, you finally accept your total helplessness and give in to the mind-shattering ecstasy, cumming a second time.

{PC is lactating: Your [pc.nipples] actually spray your [pc.milk] as your breasts join in on the full-body orgasm.} Your climactic thrashes are restrained like a trout on a line by Ciaran's powerful arms. {PC has cock: [pc.eachCock] dribbles more seed, too drained from your previous orgasm to do much more than spasm.} When your legs join the spasms and kick out from under you, the confident older man doesn't miss a beat, simply shifting his posture slightly to support your frame as if you weighed nothing at all. Those terrible, wonderful fingers of his stay busy inside your contracting cunny throughout, forcing you up to the heights of pleasure only to fall screaming back to earth again. The sensation of orgasm is so all-consuming you think you'll black out, when all at once your body simply goes slack, only giving an occasional twitch.

Ciaran mercifully removes his hands from your erogenous zones. His fiery orange eyes stare into your own unfocused eyes as he breaks your kiss to sample your feminine essence. He lewdly licks his hand clean, sucking his digits into his mouth and obviously savoring your [pc.girlCumFlavor] taste. When he pops the last finger out of his mouth, he cups your cheek with the same hand and kisses you again, some of your [pc.girlCum] still in his mouth. This kiss is far more passionate than the previous raunchy tongue-fuck you've been smothered with. You are an equal partner in this liplock, and the ausar is far more tender, almost apologetic. It doesn't last very long, and while you're thankful to have a chance to breathe again, you're a little sad it's over.

Seeing that your [pc.legs] still won't support you, Ciaran gently sets you down in your chair. Now that you're away from his incredible body heat the room actually feels a bit cold. You cross your [pc.arms] and pull your [pc.legs] into your seat, the sweat covering your [pc.skinFurScales] exacerbating the chilled feeling rising in you. When your paramour notices your plight, he unties the bandana he's wearing around his neck. He sets about cleaning off your sweat and sexual fluids, and you're happy to have a bit of his warmth again. You settle back and enjoy your afterglow as the DILF tends to you almost like a father would a child who had spilled something on themselves. When he's satisfied that you're clean and warm enough, he gathers up your [pc.gear] and sets it all on the table in front of you. Only when you stand up to get dressed again do you notice that most of the nearby patrons in the saloon have been watching the two of you. Most of them stop looking when they realize there isn't going to be any more action, but you still feel {exhibitionist: proud //else: embarrassed} that so many people just watched you cum yourself stupid.

You blush fiercely at the thought, but you tell him that you're going to need some time to recharge before he can play with you again.

He chuckles at your response. "Well while you do that, I'm gonna go find somebody to handle this boner you gave me. Take care kid." He kisses you on the forehead and bids farewell before walking over to a trio of half-kaithrit whores. You watch him take all three feline girls under his arms and disappear up the stairs with them, the feline girls giggling the whole way. You can guess what they're about to be doing. {silly mode: Playing board games of course.} You put on the last of your gear before you step away from the table, an employee with a high-tech wet-vacuum disguised as an old-fashioned push broom already beginning to clean up the mess you made.

}

//PC should have cum twice. Return PC to saloon. Add moderate exhibitionism. Decrease Libido 1 point. Remove Ciaran for 2 hours then return him.

Get Spanked

{First time:

Remembering the warning Ciaran gave you when you last scratched his head, you decide you'd like to see how far you can push the hellhound with some real teasing.

Repeat:

You know just how to push Ciaran's buttons now, and you're in the mood for some more "punishment".

}

//merge

You rise from your seat and move over behind the hellhound just as you did when you scratched his ears and horns.

Ciaran looks at you expectantly as you move behind him. "What are you doing, kid? Are you gonna pet me again? It's pretty embarrassing, but I can't say I don't love it when yo-" His words are cut short when you rudely snatch his cowboy hat away from him, pulling his ears sharply and unexpectedly as they are forced through the holes in the brim. The older ausar cries out in surprise and pain and glares at you. "What the fuck are you doing kid?"

With a devious smirk you declare "I don't think little puppies should have hats." You punctuate your words with a playful wink and a seductive pose, your hip thrust out to the side coquettishly as you spin his hat on an outstretched finger.

His expression softens a bit, but you're not sure if the coloring of cheeks is arousal, embarrassment, anger, or all of the above. "What did you just call me?" His voice is quiet and menacing, and as he speaks you can see his extra-sharp canines more clearly than usual.

Your heart begins to race nervously. Is he going along with your game or have you crossed a line? Ciaran's face seems playful, but his tone is deathly serious. Having come this far already, you decide to stick to your guns. You turn your back to him and feign huffing dismissively. "Well first I called you a puppy, but now I'm thinking maybe 'old man' would be more appropriate. Even your name sounds like an old man's name; 'Old man Eildean.' That's what I'll call you now." You peek over your shoulder at the older man after dropping your last jab. Your {has penis: [pc.cocks] jumps{s} //has pussy: [pc.cunts] moisten{s} //has cock and pussy: [pc.cocks] jumps{s} and your [pc.cunts] moisten{s}} when you see the fiery, predatory gaze Ciaran is boring into your [pc.ass]; he's {PC is clothed: already undressing you //nude or revealing clothing: practically fucking you} with his fiery orange eyes, and his aphrodisiac scent is pouring off of him in waves, washing over you and announcing his lust for you. Once you notice where Ciaran's looking, you ask him "Why won't you come over here and get your silly hat back? Do you not think you're man enough? Is the dog maybe too old and tired?" You shake your rump at him seductively as you tease him.

That's the final straw for Ciaran. Your ass may as well have been a red cloth in front of a bull, because he jumps out of his seat and charges at you before you can even react. His clawed hands are all over you, and he uses his great strength and size to force your arms behind your back before dragging you over to the table. {PC is clothed: He pulls down your [pc.lowerGarments] before sitting down and hoisting you across his lap. //PC is nude: He pulls off your [pc.gear] and sits down before hoisting you across his lap.} His pheromone production is through the roof now. All you can smell is Ciaran's personal scents of warmth and an approaching thunderstorm. You shudder in arousal and anticipation. This is exactly what you wanted!

The DILF's voice is a harsh growl as he sneers down at you. "If you want to act like a spoiled little [pc.boyGirl], then I hope you're ready to get treated like a spoiled little [pc.boyGirl]."

{PC has tail: He gives [pc.eachTail] a sharp upwards jerk, hard enough to hurt. "You'd better hold that pose if you know what's good for you" he growls.} You tense up in anticipation, awaiting the first delicious slap across your [pc.ass], closing your eyes and holding your breath. When several seconds pass and you still haven't received your punishment, you open your eyes and look up at your canine disciplinarian. The moment you make eye contact with him, he smiles deviously and slaps you hard on the ass. You gasp sharply at the stinging sensation and tense up again. The hellhound seems to be able to read you like a book, as the moment you start to relax he smacks your bottom again with his powerful hand.

He takes a moment to lightly rake his claws over your still-stinging asscheek, the sharp points just barely catching your skin and adding a whole new sensation to the pleasurable pain in your buttocks. The stimulation is enough to make you shiver. He gives you another harsh slap, this time on your other cheek. He punctuates the slap with a question. "Why are you being punished?" he barks loudly. You simply squeak in masochistic pain, too surprised to answer. He smacks your [pc.butt] again, his huge, furred hand slapping both cheeks at once this time. "Why are you being punished?"

You bite your lip to stifle a little moan before stuttering out an answer. "I-I don't know!"

His hand flies through the air and impacts your [pc.butt] harder than ever. SMACK! "Yes you do you bratty little [pc.boyGirl]! You know why you're being punished! So I'm gonna ask again. Why are you being punished?"

Your eyes water a bit from the pain, but your {has vagina: [pc.cunt] leaks [pc.girlcum] all over your thighs, some of it even dripping to the floor. //has penis: [pc.cockLargest] throbs and leaks precum onto the floor. //has penis and vagina: [pc.cunt] leaks [pc.girlcum] all over your thighs, and your [pc.cockLargest] throbs and dribbles precum to join the [pc.girlcum] you're already puddling on the floor.} You struggle to keep your voice level when you answer. "B-because I stole your hat?"

SMACK! "That's not why I'm spanking you. Tell me the real reason!" Ciaran drags his claws over your reddening ass while awaiting your answer.

You cry out in pain at his blows, but your [pc.groin] is burning with arousal at the shameful display that's being made of you. It's all you can do to focus on answering the older ausar. "It's because I called you old isn't it?"

SMACK! The DILF rains another blissful clap on your buttocks. "Try again little [pc.boyGirl]! You're being punished because of why you did those things. Tell me why you acted like a spoiled brat!"

You bite down on your lip almost hard enough to draw blood. The sensation of being dominated so completely by this confident older man is overwhelming you with arousal, your submissive urges mixing with the pain he's inflicting on your bottom and the aphrodisiac scent of his pheromones to form a heady cocktail of stimulation. You inhale deeply to savor the smell of the hellhound before you answer him again. "I did all that because I wanted you to punish me!"

SMACK! He chuckles richly at your reply as he rewards you with another stinging slap on the ass. This close to him you feel the rumbles of his laugh as much as you hear them. "And why did you want to be punished? What did you think would happen?"

You whimper in masochistic delight, your breath coming in short, panting gasps as your arousal spikes from admitting the truth. "I- I wanted to be spanked! I wanted you to put me over your lap and spank my bare ass like the bad little [pc.boyGirl] I am {PC is exhibitionist: in front of the whole saloon! I wanted to be spanked in front of everybody}! Now please, please keep spanking me!" You provocatively wiggle your still-stinging behind in an effort to tempt Ciaran into continuing.

Your efforts pay off as the ausar DILF brings that furred hand down on your ass again with a laugh, satisfied at how you've debased yourself. His scent fills your nostrils, all sex and warmth and pure animal lust. The muscular lawman rains blow after delightfully painful blow on your helpless bottom, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You relish every second of your "punishment" and cry out each time his palm makes contact with your asscheeks, eventually just moaning in pleasure rather than crying in pain.

Ciaran's pheromones cloud your perception of time and drive your arousal to a fever pitch; combined with the delicious blows on your [pc.ass] you are driven to the edge of orgasm. You begin to buck your hips in pleasure, reflexively trying to find some sort of sexual stimulation. Unfortunately for your {has penis: manhood //has vagina: womanhood //has both: naughty bits //has neither: sphincter}, the storm of blows being rained on your ass is the only stimulation you're going to get. Just when your arousal is so overwhelming that you think you'll cum from the next spank the hellhound gives you, he breaks his rhythm. Instead of a firm strike on your buttocks you instead receive an affectionate stroke. You look up at Ciaran in confusion, but he just grins down at you. "It wouldn't be much of a punishment if you got to cum, now would it?"

You mewl pathetically and shake your [pc.ass] to try to entice him, but he simply {not nude: pulls your [pc.lowerGarments] up again and} sets you on your feet again before standing up himself. He walks over and picks his hat up off the floor. You hadn't even realized you dropped it when he pounced on you earlier. Humming {PC is Treated: a strangely familiar //else: an unfamiliar} tune to himself, he places it on his head again before moseying over to his chair and sitting down like nothing had ever happened. He speaks to you again with that usual cocksure grin when you just stand there dumbly. "Well don't just stand there kid. It makes me uncomfortable when people just hover near me while I sit."

You rub your tender bottom and tell him you'll be ready to take a seat when your ass gets a rest.

He throws his head back and laughs uproariously. "Well I guess you should've thought of that before you decided you wanted a spanking." He then goes back to drinking his beer, pretending you aren't even present.

You blush in embarrassment and squirm with unfulfilled need. Your loins are burning with arousal right now, but Ciaran is enjoying ignoring you. You see him look at your dilemma out of the corner of his eye from time to time with a smirk. Groaning in frustration, you storm off, horny beyond all belief and with a butt too sore to sit on. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

//10 minutes pass, max arousal, add a lot of exhibitionism, add +1 libido slow stat gain, put player back in saloon

Vanilla

//When player clicks "Vanilla" present them with [Vaginal] and [Anal] buttons. Choose fork in scene based on which button they click.

//tooltip: Knock boots with the studly ausar in a more private and intimate setting.

//no taurs, lol

Ciaran massages your shoulders as he takes a moment to consider what he wants to do with you. You relish the feeling of his powerful hands grasping and pulling at your muscles, the tension bleeding out of you at his touch. The finesse his movements display is somewhat surprising to you, but rather than give it any thought, you simply lean back into his relaxing grip. You're a bit startled when the ausar's's deep bass voice whispers right next to your [pc.ear] "I think I'd like to take you somewhere private. Show you something special. Would you like that?"

You nod your head eagerly, sighing huskily when Ciaran's lips begin nibbling on your [pc.ears]. You suggest your ship, to which the ausar man simply replies "{Silly mode: Caaaannnnn do! //else: Alright.}"

You gasp in shock as you are suddenly hoisted out of your seat and into the air. The world spins momentarily as with no warning you are slung over Ciaran's broad shoulder. You flail your [pc.legs] reflexively for a moment, but you still your movements when a clawed hand firmly grasps your [pc.ass], giving a little groping squeeze as it does so. Once you've gotten your bearings you realize that you're now being held on Ciaran's shoulder facing the same direction he is as he carries you out of the saloon. You blush as a few of the regulars laugh, catcall, and shout teases at you and the DILF, but your partner barely acknowledges them. Seems like this must be a regular occurrence around these parts.

Ciaran shoves through the saloon doors and out into the warm air, taking long, rapid strides towards the landing barn. It may be a little demeaning to be carried like a sack of flour, but you can't deny the primitive thrill of feeling helpless, feeling claimed by someone large and powerful enough to hoist {PC height >6 feet: even someone as large as} you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing to him. From your current position facing downward you can see that as he moves closer to the landing barn the ausar's pants are straining against an ever-growing erection. His zealous pace carries the two of you back to the landing zone in a third of the time it normally takes you.

As the two of you pass through customs you receive a distracted wave and greeting from Ogram, who is seated at his desk with Amma nowhere in sight: "Hey Ciaran, hey [pc.name]." You hear a muffled feminine voice from underneath Ogram's desk, and Ogram groans briefly in pleasure until the voice stops, at which point the customs bull speaks again. "Amma said 'Howdy Ciaran, how ya doin'?' and 'Howdy [pc.name]!' I swear, even with a dick in her mouth this woman can't help but greet everybody."

Ciaran gives the bull an acknowledging grunt and a distracted wave, not slowing down one bit for idle pleasantries. With his goal in sight the ausar's excitement is peaking: you can actually hear the swish of his tail wagging, the swing of its arc so wide that it thuds softly into Ciaran's back on both sides. You feel a quick squeeze on your [pc.ass] before Ciaran asks tersely, "Which one's yours?" You gesture to the bay containing your ship, and before you can even describe it the eager ausar is off again. When you finally arrive at your destination Ciaran sets you down to allow you to open the entrance of your ship.

The moment the two of you are inside, your onyx-furred partner surprises you by sweeping your [pc.legs] out from under you and catching you in a bridal carry. You {if bimbo: giggle delightedly //else: gasp in shock} at his actions before you are silenced by a surprise kiss. Your [pc.eyes] open wide in momentary surprise before shutting tightly in total delight. The steamy liplock lasts just long enough to leave you begging for more when it ends. Ciaran chuckles richly at your obvious disappointment, plainly feeling his oats as he toys with you. He bares his sharp teeth in a grin as he asks in a deep, rumbling tone, "Where do you want to scream my name all {day/night}, [pc.name]?"

In spite of how unbelievably cheesy the question was, the utter sureness and confidence with which the DILF asked it gives you butterflies in your stomach. You stare into his fiery orange eyes dumbly before remembering the question and directing him to your room. In what feels like moments, you are whisked into your quarters by Ciaran, who turns down the lights to a twilight brightness. Rather than frantically ripping your clothes off of you as you expected however, the hellhound is shockingly subdued. He gently lays you down on the bed before speedily but sensually removing your [pc.gear]. {PC has underwear and genitals: When he finally begins tugging off your [pc.lowerUndergarments], Ciaran's restraint obviously wavers. His eyes widen, he licks his lips unconsciously, and he takes a long sniff of your [pc.crotch] as he strips bare your most private of places. After a few more breaths of your sexual scent he masters himself once more{PC is in heat or deep heat:, though it's obviously extremely difficult for him after several lungfuls of your heat-scent}.} Once he's finished, Ciaran disrobes as quickly as possible while still making a show of it, tossing his boots, hat, and poncho haphazardly aside before unbuttoning his shirt dramatically, exposing his sculpted physique and a bevy of rugged scars across his body, his tanned flesh glistening with a thin layer of pheromone-laced sweat from the near-frantic journey here. You're distracted from the scars by the heavy falling of the DILF's pants, revealing a pair of surprisingly cute white boxers decorated with scarlet hearts. When he sheds his boxers he reveals his massive ausar cock, even more scarlet than the hearts on the underwear it has been straining at since Ciaran first hoisted you over his shoulder. {PC is bimbo: You actually have to wipe away a bit of drool after staring at that magnificent pillar of masculinity.} As each article of clothing comes off, the room fills with more and more of Ciaran's pheromones, his intoxicatingly masculine scent fogging your brain with lust.

Once he's finally free of his bothersome clothes, the handsome hellhound is a sight to behold: his fiery orange eyes literally glow in the dim light of your quarters, his fur is a wild mess from hasty disrobing, and his powerfully-muscled chest heaves as he pants from the effort of restraining himself. He looks absolutely feral, like a predator that is within striking distance of his prey but is held at bay for whatever reason. You feel butterflies in your stomach again as the fearsome ausar stares hungrily at your naked body, openly eye-fucking you, his cock growing harder by the second. Ciaran seems to come to some sort of realization, as he closes his eyes briefly and shakes his head before making eye contact with you and striding over to your bed.

He lies down next to you propped up on his elbow, gazing down at you with a warm smile. After a long moment he whispers in a gravelly tone, "You're beautiful."

The simple complement catches you off-guard given Ciaran's amorous behavior up to this point. You blush darkly, unprepared for simple praise when you were expecting wild sex instead. Ciaran laughs softly when he sees the effect his words have had on you. It's a bassy, good-natured laugh that relaxes you, and you can't help but smile in response. When the DILF's laughter ends he moves his arm from under himself to the back of your head, pulling your face towards his own.

When his lips touch yours, your eyes flutter closed, your [pc.lipsChaste] parting to allow his broad tongue to probe your mouth. Ciaran tastes of you hungrily, his oral muscle exploring your mouth and dancing circles around your comparatively inexperienced tongue. You try to keep pace with him briefly, but you quickly realize how hopeless that is and instead simply relax and submit to the amorous older man's will. Once you do he breaks the kiss to smile at you again. He places his clawed hand on your [pc.chest], tracing the contours of your [pc.chestFull] before sliding down your [pc.belly] towards your [pc.crotch], the thick fur of his hands tickling your sensitive hide only for the sharp nails following in their wake to prickle your flesh with a taste of their quiescent violence.

{Vagina:

Ciaran's powerful hand glides over your pubis{has dicks:, giving [pc.eachCock] a few quick pumps on the way down} before arriving at your already-moist [pc.cunt]. The little gasp of pleasure his firm touch elicits from you is silenced by a smoldering kiss from the hellhound. You close your eyes once more, delighting in the feeling of being the center of attention for an experienced lover who is dedicating himself to your pleasure over his own. Fur teases at your [pc.clits] as Ciaran's fingers rub gently at your pearl{s}, the individual hairs sometimes sliding under your clitoral hood{s} and sending paroxysms of pleasure through your body. The DILF's kiss intensifies at the same pace as his exploration of your womanhood, moving from strokes along your outer lips to deeper probing motions.

{PC is virgin:

When the thick finger spreading your lips makes contact with your hymen, you reflexively tense up. Immediately, Ciaran stills his motions and breaks the kiss to whisper a question. "[pc.name], is this your first time?"

You reluctantly open your eyes, your first sight being Ciaran's piercing orange orbs staring into your own [pc.eyes]. He is smiling warmly, his gaze more questioning than anything. You clear your throat before nervously answering yes with a deep blush.

The DILF's smile widens into a reassuring grin. "Hey, there's nothing to be embarrassed or nervous about kiddo. Everybody has to start somewhere."

Ciaran's kind words calm you down, making you return his grin with an anxious smile. He leans down and kisses your forehead in a surprisingly paternal gesture, stroking your {hair/head} soothingly. The DILF chuckles to himself before continuing, "Damn, am I glad I chose this instead of a quickie in the saloon. I would've felt a little weird doing this in public. Now, just relax and trust me. I know what I'm doing; this isn't my first time with a first-timer."

Your alien paramour's confidence is infectious. If he's certain you're going to enjoy this, why shouldn't you be? He's certainly more sexually experienced than you are. You finally allow yourself to relax completely, and Ciaran immediately returns his fingers to their task of preparing your virgin pussy for its very first penetration. His lips quickly find yours once more.

Vaginally-filled:

When Ciaran's finger finally penetrates you in earnest, you can no longer hold in the load you've been carrying in your pussy. Leftover jizz {vaginal wetness >3: mixed with your own [pc.girlCum]} coat{s} the older ausar's fingers and leak{s} out onto your bed, accompanied by an incredibly vulgar wet sound. Ciaran breaks the kiss shortly afterward. When you open your eyes to see why, he is smirking and examining his stained fingers. He laughs when he sees you looking. "You are one horny little [pc.boyGirl], aren't you? You couldn't even wait for all the cum to leak out of you before you hopped on the next cock you found. {PC is Treated or Bimbo: I can't say I'm surprised of course. I know how horny young cows like you are. I bet even while whoever you're fucking is still cumming in your little twat, you're dreaming about the next big creampie. I wonder: is this sloppy seconds, or sloppy sevenths?} Nothing wrong with that of course. I like a [pc.boyGirl] with a little spunk in {him/her}." Ciaran punctuates his terrible double entendre with a wink, leaving you groaning from his lame humor. He's quick to return those thick digits to their task of preparing you for penetration, transforming your groan to one of pleasure before silencing you with another kiss.

}

In no time at all, you lose yourself in your partner's amorous embrace. The kiss Ciaran has ensnared you with grows in intensity and duration. Your lips only leave his to allow you to draw a few labored breaths, the air heavy with Ciaran's personal pheromone scent. His cock throbs powerfully into your side, smearing you with hot and delicious-smelling precum, but he makes no attempt to pleasure himself even in spite of his apparently extreme {Silly mode: horny level //else: arousal}. Instead he focuses his lusts on your [pc.cunt], stroking your folds at randomly varying speeds, preventing you from ever acclimating to the sensation. Intermittently he inserts two fingers into your mound and spreads you wide, stretching you a little further each time, ensuring you are ready for the main act. Warmth builds in your belly, and your [pc.girlCum] flows freely, but before his fingers can drive you to orgasm, Ciaran withdraws them and pulls back from the kiss to sample your [pc.girlCumFlavor] fluids. The rumbling groan of delight he makes as he laps at his furred digits fills you with lust and no small amount of pride.

When the ausar DILF has lapped up the last of your [pc.girlCumNoun] he finally rolls over and climbs on top of you. {PC naga lower body: You coil your lower half around the older man, something that he seems to enjoy immensely //else: The older man positions his furred legs between yours, guiding your [pc.legs] around his hips} as he grabs your [pc.hips] and positions your pelvis beneath his own. His canine phallus throbs eagerly, demonstrating its readiness by pulsing out a huge dollop of earthy-smelling precum to splatter directly onto your [pc.cunt] and [pc.clits]. The musky liquid is so hot you're surprised it doesn't sizzle; the overwhelming sensation causes you to seize up with pleasure, your spasming [pc.legs] unintentionally pulling Ciaran's red-hot rod into full contact with your fitfully-clenching cunny and dragging the full length from tip to knot over your engorged pleasure buzzer{s}.

You throw your head back and moan {bimbo: whorishly //else: deeply} in overstimulated bliss. The ausar atop you doesn't skip a beat, immediately beginning to thrust his searing cock back and forth through the petals of your [pc.girlCum]-{Wetness <3: trickling //>3 but <6:dripping //wetness 6+:gushing} flower, bearing down on your [pc.clits] with each pass. After all the foreplay earlier it only takes a minute of this treatment before you're creaming all over the wonderful cock grinding into your muff. Your vision fills with stars while [pc.girlCumFlavor] femcum{if Vaginally Filled: and much of your last creampie} coat{s} every inch of Ciaran's member {has cock: while your [pc.cocks] jerk{s} fitfully and pump{s} out ropes of your semen} as the ausar increases the intensity of his thrusts, the [pc.girlCumFlavor] scent of your arousal sending the lust-addled DILF into a rut. You shout Ciaran's name repeatedly, your voice cracking and stuttering as you beg him to slow down.

Your orgasm is extended well beyond normal before your partner mercifully stills his hips, drawing a deep breath to calm himself and wagging his tail apologetically. It's all you can do to lie under him sweating and panting for air, but it seems to be all he can do not to rut you like a beast. Ciaran distracts himself by tracing the curves of your body, raising goosebumps as he teases your flesh with his sharp claws. {PC has boobs: You gasp and whine with oversensitivity as the DILF molests your [pc.chest], groping, massaging, and stimulating every inch of your mammaries, stopping to twist your [pc.milkyNipples] every so often.} After you've had a short while to rest, Ciaran begins snickering. When he notices your confusion he explains with a cocky smirk, "I knew you'd be screaming my name. Ready to scream it again?" Your cheeks burn crimson as you realize both that you've unwittingly played into the dominant man's hands and that he fully intends to reduce you to a puddle of fuck again. When Ciaran aligns his tapered cockhead with your [pc.cunt], your answer catches in your throat. This close to finally penetrating you, the ausar's eyes look feral with lust, glinting in the dim light of your quarters as they greedily drink in the sight of your body. You suddenly feel very exposed, but at the same time, knowing that on a planet full of beautiful women, such a fine specimen of a man is this desperate to fuck you thrills you to your core.

{PC is virgin:

Though it's obviously an effort to restrain himself, Ciaran slowly parts the moist veil of your labia with his mercifully tapered ausar member. The feeling of gradual stretching is alien to your inexperienced tunnel, but combined with the incredible heat of Ciaran's penis, the sensation is breathtaking. Your virgin pussy spasms wildly at the intrusion, unsure whether it wants to repel the invader or draw it deeper. With barely more than the tip inside you, the panting DILF is already on the verge of deflowering you. He pauses at your hymen, gazing into your wide [pc.eyes] and asking in a hungry tone, "Ready to feel like a {man/woman} now, [pc.name]?" You bite your lip and nod nervously, gasping when you feel a dollop of hot pre-cum being deposited into your pussy. Ciaran smiles reassuringly, reaching down to stroke your {PC has animal ears: ears //else: [pc.hair]} tenderly. His gentle touch is calming, and your [pc.cunt] finally relaxes, giving your partner the signal to continue.

You hiss sharply as Ciaran fills you with a slow but inexorable thrust, exercising all the care he can in claiming your virginity, working as hard as possible to make your first vaginal penetration not only painless, but pleasurable. There's undeniably pressure, and just a bit of a sting at first, but your alien paramour does as well as anyone could in his situation. He soon transforms your hiss of pain into breathless gasps of delight. You pussy spasms disjointedly as your walls are stroked and stretched to their utmost in ways you've never experienced before. The warmth of Ciaran's throbbing shaft is hellishly pleasurable, and like a carnal bucket brigade, your canal vainly gushes a torrent of femlube in an effort to quench the heat radiating off of the burning cock impaling you. By the time the hellhound's infernally-hot cock bottoms out inside you, you imagine your love juices must be practically bubbling.

not virgin:

Trusting that the extensive foreplay has been enough to prepare you, Ciaran quickly thrusts into your eager channel. {Looseness 1: Even after all he did to ready you though, your sinfully tight tunnel forces the horny ausar to fight for every inch, the feeling of his thick dick stuffing your constricting cunny ripping a {Treated: moo //else: moan} from deep in your chest // Looseness 2-4: His previous ministrations prove to have been just enough for your experienced slit. The thick red rocket penetrating you doesn't feel too big, but it still feels fantastically girthy as it stretches your walls wide //Looseness 5+: {Silly mode: It's like throwing a hotdog down a hallway as Ciaran's mastiff member fails to even brush the walls of your used-up cunt. Coincidentally, a breeze blows through the area, and you hear the wind whistling through your cavernous chasm //else: You knew before he even started that your greedy cunt needed no warm-up. Even now, the thick red rocket penetrating you feels just right in your moist chasm, and in less than a second Ciaran has bottomed out inside you}. You groan as much in delight as disappointment, wishing as always that there was simply more dickmeat on hand to wreck your once-tight womanhood with.} The warmth of Ciaran's throbbing shaft is hellishly pleasurable, and like a carnal bucket brigade, your canal vainly gushes a torrent of femlube in an effort to quench the heat radiating off of the burning cock impaling you. By the time the hellhound's infernally-hot cock bottoms out inside you, you imagine your love juices must be practically bubbling.

}

Ciaran shuts his eyes and groans a hot breath into your [pc.ear] as the relief of finally sheathing his desperate cock inside your warm hole washes over him. The sound of his pleasure is so earnest and masculine that you can't help but shiver in auditory delight. His shaft throbs eagerly inside you, pulsing out huge globs of oh-so-hot precum to splatter against your deepest reaches. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, still feeling more sensitive than usual from creaming Ciaran's cock once already. The older ausar's keen ears twitch, and he props himself up again to gaze down at you with a predatory smirk. "No, no, none of that. Let's not have any more holding back now, [pc.name]. I want to hear you moan under me. I want to hear all the vulgar noises your pussy makes around my cock as I fuck you to pieces. And more than anything else," he leans down to whisper breathily into your [pc.ears], "I want to hear your pretty little voice scream my name again, and again, and again." Ciaran emphasizes each "again" by withdrawing his red-hot shaft before slamming it into you to the edge of his knot, dragging his femcum-soaked hardness along your [pc.clit] with each thrust until your eyes cross and your [pc.legs] spasm slightly.

Your alien paramour pauses once more to allow you to recover from his surprise assault, leaning down to {height <5'8: kiss the top of your head reassuringly //else: snare your [pc.lipsChaste] with his own in a deep, hungry kiss}. You can already feel your [pc.girlCum] {Wetness <3: slowly dripping down your [pc.ass] //<6: freely flowing down your perineum to soak the sheets under your [pc.ass] //6 or greater: overflowing your tunnel in a constant stream that stimulates your perineum as it pools under your [pc.ass], [pc.thighs], and [pc.legs] in a [pc.girlCumFlavor]-smelling feminine deluge.} You can only imagine how much wetter you're going to be when he starts fucking you in earnest. The thought has only just crossed your mind when Ciaran suddenly places his furred hands on your [pc.chest],{PC has boobs: groping your bosom and} teasing your nipples mercilessly{PC is lactating:, actually licking his chops like a cartoon wolf when your [pc.milk] flows out to soak his palms and your [pc.skinFurScales]} as he begins thrusting into your channel in earnest.

Ciaran uses his grip on your [pc.breasts] as leverage to begin mashing his pelvis into yours. At first he fucks you with long, slow drags of his cock, withdrawing all the way to his tip before penetrating you just a little deeper at a new angle each time, doing his best to stimulate your [pc.clits] and every single fold of your sopping wet pussy. Soon, warmth builds in your belly, but it's so much hotter than usual. You feel like you're past the point you normally would've orgasmed, but the sheer stimulation you're receiving is both intensifying and delaying your release, like a fire having so much fuel added to it that it almost smothers but only grows hotter and smokier as it nearly gutters out.

When the hellhound suddenly teases your [pc.nipples] with a light rake of his claws, it's like blowing a bellows on that struggling flame inside you. That internal heat flares into an inferno of ecstasy, and every nerve in your body combusts with sheer bliss. You try to scream your pleasure, but only a hoarse whine escapes you as your muscles tense up. You throw your [pc.legs] around Ciaran's hips and claw at his hard-muscled back while your pussy frantically clenches and wrings his cock, all in an instinctive effort to force him to cum inside you, but your lust-wracked frame is powerless against the muscular DILF. For most of this tryst he has focused on your pleasure at the expense of his own, but now it seems he is finished with his deferential treatment of your body.

When Ciaran feels {Wetness 4-5: your [pc.girlCum] squirting all over his crotch and //wetness 6+: your [pc.girlCum] squirting all over his crotch, abdomen, and legs, and} your cunt milking his cock for cum, he takes mercy on you and thrusts deeply into your clenching cunny. His knot kisses your lower lips with a lewd squelch before he begins to grind hard into you. Stars fill your vision as your partner's tapered cockhead digs into the sensitive area just before your cervix while his knot rubs your [pc.clits] back and forth, up and down. The orgasmic contractions of your love tunnel redouble their efforts to bring your partner to his own climax, but aside from a powerful twitch and a massive shot of that hot pre-cum, Ciaran seems like he's just getting warmed up. When your orgasm finally begins to wind down and you let your body go slack, your suspicion is confirmed by a soft chuckle from Ciaran. You gaze up at him through heavily-lidded eyes, panting and sweating even though you've simply been lying on your back this whole time. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Creaming my cock already, [pc.name]? Well you might want to try to hold out a little longer than that this time. I won't be slowing down again until I fuck this big, thick knot into you." He grinds the bulb of flesh against your entrance, just the very edge of his endowment already pushing your vaginal opening to its limits. "And it's gonna be a whole lot bigger when I do," he husks, nipping your ear sensually before he resumes thrusting into you once more.

You mewl piteously, feeling utterly exhausted after two powerful climaxes and no rest, but you can't find it in yourself to really complain. You're tired and sweaty, but it's just so satisfying to be the object of such a hunky man's desire. It certainly doesn't hurt that the fuck Ciaran is dishing out feels incredible, and he seems to only be speeding up. Gradually he builds to a brisk pace as you lie under him gasping for air between moans, succeeding only in breathing in more of his wonderful pheromones. In your overheated state, you feel as if you're melting. Your muscles are like jelly,{PC is goo:even more so than usual,} and it's a monumental effort just to lift your arms. The buffet of sculpted flesh suspended above you proves too tempting to pass up though, and you can't help but reach up to feel the hard curves of Ciaran's physique. His tanned flesh feels rough in the most deliciously masculine way, and as you touch his myriad scars you are left wondering about each one's origin before Ciaran grinds his engorged knot into your [pc.clits], shocking the thought from your mind with pure pleasure.

The hellhound continues sloppily grinding his breeding bulb into your soaking wet folds in an effort to stimulate the increasingly sensitive ball of flesh. The sheer heat of his endowment and the force with which he grinds it into your swollen labia and still-hooded clitt{y/ies} hellishly straddles the line between pleasure and overstimulation, leaving your [pc.thighs] trembling as your moans grow in pitch and volume until eventually you're screaming Ciaran's name and exhorting him alternatively to slow down, ease off, speed up, or grind into you even harder, your body having been pushed so closely to the margin of pain without ever crossing it that you don't know if you want this to stop or go on forever.

Ciaran never once relents in grinding his knot into your mound, and when he finally presses into you hard enough to begin stretching your entrance around his bulb, your breath hitches and your body locks up. When a heavy splurt of thick precum splatters against your walls you suddenly and violently cream every inch of burning cockflesh filling you, throwing your head back and {Treated: mooing //else: moaning} deeply as your whole body fitfully trembles in an orgasm you barely have the energy for. Your cunny clenches and spasms wildly as it {Wetness <4: gushes a trickle of femcum to soak Ciaran's hot knot and dampening the sheets under your [pc.ass] // wetness 4-6: squirts a huge volume of femcum, soaking Ciaran's hot knot and massive balls and wetting your thighs as the [pc.girlCumColor] puddle under you [pc.ass] expands //Wetness 6+: squirts so much [pc.girlCumColor] femcum that it splatters wetly off of his manhood to paint his lower half with a new coating of [pc.girlCum] as the lake of sexual fluids under your [pc.ass] expands}.

When he feels your girly fluids soaking him again, the DILF releases his grip on your [pc.hips] and grasps the headboard of your bed. Ciaran's manhood is like red-hot iron, and now that your [pc.girlCumNoun] has quenched it somewhat he withdraws his knot from your entrance before his hips begin hammering the entirety of his burning hardness into you once more, not waiting even a moment for you to recuperate. You alternately whine and moan, wanting to rest but loving every second of this incredibly rough treatment. In just this short amount of time, Ciaran has sussed out your pleasure redline, and he obviously intends to keep your body running at it for the rest of this tryst. All you can do is lie back and take everything this virile man has to give you as he uses your body for his pleasure.

Your submissiveness is rewarded richly. Ciaran establishes a seemingly unconscious cycle of sawing his fat cock in and out of your sopping box at alternating angles to maximize your pleasure, stimulating your [pc.clits] and G-spot until the urge to stimulate his knot overwhelms him, whereupon he savagely mashes the growing ball of flesh into your vulva, taking time to pleasure himself while forcing you to cream yourself repeatedly. He sinks his knot just a bit deeper into your entrance each time your pussy contracts orgasmically, basting your walls in creamy pre-cum and groaning his hot pleasure into your ear whenever he does, giving you false hope that he's about to tie you before, maddeningly, he starts fucking you again. Your vocalizations grow quieter as your waning endurance wears thinner, while every penetration grows louder as your twitching love tunnel becomes wetter and stickier. Hours pass; sometimes you try to make Ciaran slow down, other times you try to make him speed up, but always he soldiers on, pulling so many orgasms from you that you become firmly convinced he knows your body better than you do.

The hellhound's knot, already large when he first disrobed, has been engorging with more blood, growing larger, hotter, and more sensitive as the sex drags on. Every time Ciaran bottoms out inside you, he wiggles his hips a bit to drag the sensitive bulb of flesh along your [pc.clits] and folds, making you {Treated: moo //else: moan} loudly each time. The more his knot swells, the more eager he is to grind it into your pussy, until eventually his bitchbreaker is frighteningly large and all he's doing is grinding it into you. Ciaran's thick cock swells even thicker and twitches meaningfully, and he moves his clawed hands to your [pc.ass], lifting your {low tone, high thickness: squishy //low tone, low thickness: soft //high tone, high thickness: firm //high tone, low thickness: hard} butt into the ideal position for the deepest penetration possible. You sense the change in his demeanor and instinctively throw your [pc.legs] around his hips, marshaling the last of your energy to help your partner bring this wild bout of sex to a close. Ciaran grunts as he slams his hips into yours, using his enormous bitchbreaker like a battering ram to force your lower lips open.

You lift your hips to meet Ciaran's thrusts and press him into you with your [pc.legs] until finally, with an incredibly loud, incredibly wet pop, he triumphantly ties the two of you, instinctively nestling his tapered cockhead against your cervix to ensure you'll be bred as thoroughly as possibly. There's a delay right on the precipice of orgasm, as if your body was so distracted with the effort of taking such a massive insertion that it forgot it was supposed to feel pleasure from it. Your climax is all the more ecstatic when it finally arrives, stars filling your vision as you hoarsely scream {Treated: a moo of //else: in} total bliss as your folds clench and wring Ciaran's cock.

Your cry is cut short when that fat dick throbs powerfully and blasts an enormous load of incredibly hot jizz directly onto your cervix, instantly filling your plugged pussy, basting every millimeter of your walls in musky, white cum. {PC is pregnant: Your occupied womb stays sealed, leaving the rest of Ciaran's load with nowhere to go until your love tunnel pressurizes, great jets of semen shooting out around Ciaran's huge knot, quickly forming a veritable lake of sinfully hot and musky spunk on your bed. Your folds are stretched to their limit by the sheer volume of liquid filling your pussy, your torturous pleasure magnified by the added pressure of repeated orgasms adding your own ladyjizz to the mix. The wonderful torment finally comes to an end when Ciaran's ejaculations slow down. //else: The second spurt of alien seed is fired directly into your precious babymaker, followed almost instantly by an endless series of ejaculations of thermal spunk, filling your deepest reaches with incredible warmth. Your entire body trembles and twitches with the overwhelming ecstasy of a continuous orgasm as Ciaran dumps a massive load of hyper-virile ausar seed into your defenseless womb, groaning and panting in bliss and wagging his tail even as he makes short, jerky thrusts into your cum-filled cunt to better stuff your uterus with his spunk. In short order your belly begins to swell with creamy cum, the breeding bulb sealing your pussy doing its job and ensuring that you receive the most thorough insemination possible. Your oh-so-hot cream filling continues until you've swollen up to a 9 months pregnant look, when Ciaran's ejaculations finally slow down.}

As Ciaran's orgasm wanes, he finally relaxes, letting out a deep breath before looking down at you. Though you expected him to be smug again about making you scream his name, he instead smiles earnestly at you, a very paternal warmth behind his expression. He strokes your sweat-soaked {hair/head} gently as he leans down on his elbow, {height <5'8: kissing the top of your head and whispering sweet nothings to you //else: capturing your [pc.lipsChaste] in a tender kiss as he cups your cheek protectively} while his member continues to sporadically pulse, still trickling a non-stop stream of hot, creamy seed into your already-stuffed sex. You practically melt under the ausar's gentle affections, even as you finally feel like you've adjusted to Ciaran's higher body temperature. All too soon though, your eyelids grow heavy, your accumulated fatigue finally catching up to you. Ciaran props himself up on his elbows, grinning congenially and wagging his tail lazily. "Feeling tired, kiddo?"

You barely have the strength to do so, but you nod your head yes.

Ciaran chuckles a bit before wrapping his arms around you and rolling you over on top of him. You gasp for a moment in surprise, but you adjust quickly as he throws the driest part of the sheets over the two of you. He whispers his explanation to you, "This ought to be more comfortable for you, keeping you up out of all the mess. Figure it's only fair seeing as I caused it all." You murmur your thanks and nuzzle into the lawman's muscled chest. Ciaran kisses the top of your head once more before he returns to massaging your scalp and {PC has elf ears or animal ears other than weird lizard earholes: scratching your ears like an expert}. The DILF wraps his arms affectionately around you, and you mirror him before falling asleep.

Anal:

Ciaran's powerful hand glides over your pubic area, {Has penis: {PC multicock: giving [pc.eachCock] a few quick pumps before} eventually settling on your [pc.cockBiggest]. The little gasp of pleasure his firm touch elicits from you is silenced by a smoldering kiss from the ausar. You close your eyes once more, delighting in the feeling of being the center of attention for an experienced lover who is dedicating himself to your pleasure over his own. Fur teases at your [pc.cockHeadBiggest] as Ciaran's fingers rub gently at your crown{has foreskin:, the individual hairs sometimes sliding under your foreskin and sending paroxysms of pleasure through your body}. {PC has balls: The lawman's hot fingers cup your [pc.sack] gently, hefting the contents and appraising your weight.} Soon you moan as your [pc.cockBiggest] throbs out a blob of pre-cum. Before the fluid can leak down your shaft, Ciaran collects it on his fingers before trailing those wet digits down further, over your {has balls: [pc.balls] and} taint, {has vagina/s: though not before briefly teasing [pc.eachVagina],} {just vagoo: before arriving at your already-moist [pc.cunt]. The little gasp of pleasure his firm touch elicits from you is silenced by a smoldering kiss from the hellhound. You close your eyes once more, delighting in the feeling of being the center of attention for an experienced lover who is dedicating himself to your pleasure over his own. Fur teases at your [pc.clits] as Ciaran's fingers rub gently at your pearl{s}, the individual hairs sometimes sliding under your clitoral hood{s} and sending paroxysms of pleasure through your body. The lawman's fingers gradually start moving from strokes along your outer lips to deeper probing motions that draw out a generous amount of your girly fluids. Ciaran collects your moisture on his fingers before trailing those wet digits down further, over your taint, before} finally trailing between the cheeks of your ass to prod at your {sillymode: boipucci //else: rosebud}.The warm, furry appendages just tease your anus for now, poking at them without penetrating. The DILF's kiss intensifies at the same pace as his exploration of your body, moving from feathery touches at your backdoor to finally inserting the tip of one finger.

{PC is anal virgin:

When that hot, thick digit lodges into your ass, you reflexively tense up. Immediately, Ciaran stills his motions and breaks the kiss to whisper a question. "[pc.name], is this your first time?"

The DILF's smile widens into a reassuring grin. "Hey, there's nothing to be embarrassed or nervous about kiddo. Everybody has to start somewhere."

Your alien paramour's confidence is infectious. If he's certain you're going to enjoy this, why shouldn't you be? He's certainly more sexually experienced than you are. You finally allow yourself to relax completely, and Ciaran immediately returns his fingers to their task of preparing your virgin butt for its very first penetration. His lips quickly find yours once more.

Anally-filled:

When Ciaran's finger finally penetrates you in earnest, you can no longer hold in the load you've been carrying in your [pc.asshole]. Leftover jizz {anal wetness >3: mixed with your own fluids} coat{s} the older ausar's fingers and leak{s} out onto your bed, accompanied by an incredibly vulgar wet sound. Ciaran breaks the kiss shortly afterward. When you open your eyes to see why, he is smirking and examining his stained fingers. He laughs when he sees you looking. "You are one horny little [pc.boyGirl], aren't you? You couldn't even wait for all the cum to leak out of you before you hopped on the next cock you found. {PC is Treated or Bimbo: I can't say I'm surprised of course. I know how horny young {faux-}cows like you are. I bet even while whoever you're fucking is still cumming in your little asshole, you're dreaming about the next big creampie. I wonder: is this sloppy seconds, or sloppy sevenths?} Nothing wrong with that of course. I like a [pc.boyGirl] with a little spunk in {him/her}." Ciaran punctuates his terrible double entendre with a wink, leaving you groaning from his lame humor. He's quick to return those thick digits to their task of preparing you for penetration, transforming your groan to one of pleasure before silencing you with another kiss.

}

In no time at all, you lose yourself in your partner's amorous embrace. The kiss Ciaran has ensnared you with grows in intensity and duration. Your lips only leave his to allow you to draw a few labored breaths, the air heavy with Ciaran's personal pheromone scent. His cock throbs powerfully into your side, smearing you with hot and delicious-smelling precum, but he makes no attempt to pleasure himself even in spite of his apparently extreme {Silly mode: horny level //else: arousal}. Instead he focuses his lusts on your [pc.ass] {has genitals: {has cock: and [pc.cockBiggest],} {no cock but vag: [pc.cunt],} thrusting his finger {has cock: and milking your shaft} {no cock but vag: into both your holes}} at randomly varying speeds, preventing you from ever acclimating to the sensations. Intermittently he inserts two fingers into your {silly mode:boi}hole and spreads you wide, stretching you a little further each time, ensuring you are ready for the main act. {has genitals: Warmth builds in your belly, and your {has cock: precum} {and} {has vagina: [pc.girlCum]}} flow{s} freely, but before his fingers can drive you to orgasm, Ciaran withdraws them from your ass and gathers some of the fluids dripping from your [pc.groin] before pulling back from the kiss to sample your {penis: [pc.cumFlavor] //just vag: [pc.girlcum]} fluids. The rumbling groan of delight he makes as he laps at his furred hand fills you with lust and no small amount of pride.

When Ciaran has lapped up the last of your {penis: [pc.cumNoun] //just vag: [pc.girlCum]} he finally rolls over and climbs on top of you. //no genitals: Finally, Ciaran rolls over and climbs on top of you.} {PC naga lower body: You coil your lower half around the older man, something that he seems to enjoy immensely //else: The older man positions his furred legs between yours, guiding your [pc.legs] around his hips} as he grabs your [pc.hips] and positions your pelvis beneath his own. His canine phallus throbs eagerly, demonstrating its readiness by pulsing out a huge dollop of earthy-smelling precum to splatter directly onto your [pc.groin]. The musky liquid is so hot you're surprised it doesn't sizzle; the overwhelming sensation causes you to seize up with pleasure, your spasming [pc.legs] unintentionally pulling Ciaran's red-hot rod into full contact with your {has cock: own manhood, frotting full, hot length from tip to knot over your engorged cock{s} //just pussy: womanhood, grinding his full, hot length tip to knot over your engorged labia // neuter: [pc.groin]}.

You throw your head back and moan {bimbo: whorishly //else: deeply} in overstimulated bliss. {Got cock: The ausar atop you doesn't skip a beat, immediately beginning to thrust his searing cock back and forth against your drippy shaft, bearing down on your crown with each pass. After all the foreplay earlier it only takes a minute of this treatment before you're spurting all over yourself and the wonderful cock grinding into your [pc.cockBiggest]. Your vision fills with stars while {has vagina: [pc.eachVagina] coats the ausar's massive balls in ladyspunk, even as} [pc.cumFlavor] jizz{small cumshot: spurts onto your [pc.belly] //medium: coats your [pc.belly], [pc.chest], and some of Ciaran's cock //lotta cummies: blasts out of you like a fire hydrant, hosing down your own face and your entire upper half as well as Ciaran's cock. The DILF snickers as you moan and wallow in your own cum, but he collects some of your spurting semen and tastes it, grunting his approval of your flavor when he does //no cock, but vag: The ausar atop you doesn't skip a beat, immediately beginning to thrust his searing cock back and forth through the petals of your [pc.girlCum]-{Wetness <3: trickling //>3 but <6:dripping //wetness 6+:gushing} flower, bearing down on your [pc.clits] with each pass. After all the foreplay earlier it only takes a minute of this treatment before you're creaming all over the wonderful cock grinding into your muff. Your vision fills with stars while [pc.girlCumFlavor] femcum{if Vaginally Filled: and much of your last creampie} coat{s} every inch of Ciaran's member as the ausar increases the intensity of his thrusts, the [pc.girlCumFlavor] scent of your arousal sending the lust-addled DILF into a rut. }. Ciaran increases the intensity of his thrusts, the {cock: [pc.cumFlavor] //just vag: [pc.girlCumFlavor]} scent of your ecstasy sending the lust-addled ausar into a rut.} You shout Ciaran's name repeatedly, your voice cracking and stuttering as you beg him to slow down.

{Has genitals: Your orgasm is extended well beyond normal //neuter: It takes a short while} before your partner mercifully stills his hips, drawing a deep breath to calm himself and wagging his tail apologetically. It's all you can do to lie under him sweating and panting for air, but it seems to be all he can do not to rut you like a beast. Ciaran distracts himself by tracing the curves of your body, raising goosebumps as he teases your flesh with his sharp claws. {PC has boobs: You gasp and whine with oversensitivity as the DILF molests your [pc.chest], groping, massaging, and stimulating every inch of your mammaries, stopping to twist your [pc.milkyNipples] every so often.} After you've had a short while to rest, Ciaran begins snickering. When he notices your confusion he explains with a cocky smirk, "I knew you'd be screaming my name. Ready to scream it again?" Your cheeks burn crimson as you realize both that you've unwittingly played into Ciaran's hands and that he fully intends to reduce you to a puddle of fuck again. You try to formulate a retort as your partner {genitals: gathers up some of your {has penis: jizz //no penis: cunny honey}// neuter: lathers his fingers with spit} and coats his phallus in the slick stuff. When Ciaran aligns his tapered cockhead with your [pc.asshole] though, your answer catches in your throat. This close to finally penetrating you, the ausar's eyes look feral with lust, glinting in the dim light of your quarters as they greedily drink in the sight of your body. You suddenly feel very exposed, but at the same time, knowing that, on a planet full of beautiful women, such a fine specimen of a man is this desperate to fuck you thrills you to your core.

{PC is anal virgin:

Though it's obviously an effort to restrain himself, Ciaran slowly spreads your ass open with his mercifully tapered ausar member. The feeling of gradual stretching is alien to your inexperienced orifice, but combined with the incredible heat of Ciaran's penis, the sensation is breathtaking. Your virgin sphincter spasms wildly at the intrusion, unsure whether it wants to repel the invader or draw it deeper. With barely more than the tip inside you, the panting DILF is already on the verge of stretching you wider than you've ever been stretched. He pauses for a moment, gazing into your wide [pc.eyes] and asking in a hungry tone, "Ready to feel like a {man/woman} now, [pc.name]?" You bite your lip and nod nervously, gasping when you feel a dollop of hot pre-cum being deposited into your ass. Ciaran smiles reassuringly, reaching down to stroke your {PC has animal ears: ears //else: [pc.hair]} tenderly. His gentle touch is calming, and your ass finally relaxes, giving your partner the signal to continue.

You grunt in discomfort as Ciaran fills you with a slow but inexorable thrust, exercising all the care he can in stuffing your butt for the first time, working as hard as possible to make your first anal penetration not only painless, but pleasurable. There's undeniably friction, and a very foreign sensation at first, but your alien paramour does as well as anyone could in his situation. He soon transforms your grunts of displeasure into breathless gasps of delight. You ass spasms disjointedly as your rectum's walls are stroked and stretched to their utmost in ways you've never experienced before. The warmth of Ciaran's throbbing shaft is hellishly pleasurable, and by the time the hellhound's infernally-hot cock bottoms out inside you, {has penis: your [pc.cocks] are throbbing without even being touched //has vagina: [pc.eachVagina] {is/are} clenching jealously, feeling frustratingly empty compared to your far too full anus //has both: your cock{s are //is} throbbing without being touched even as [pc.eachVagina] clench{es} jealously //neuter: your whole body is tingling}.

not virgin:

Trusting that the extensive foreplay has been enough to prepare you, Ciaran quickly thrusts into your eager anus. {Looseness 1: Even after all he did to ready you though, your sinfully tight tunnel forces the horny DILF to fight for every inch, the feeling of his thick dick barging into your backdoor ripping a {Treated: moo //else: moan} from deep in your chest // Looseness 2-4: His previous ministrations prove to have been just enough for your experienced ass. The thick red rocket penetrating you doesn't feel too big, but it still feels fantastically girthy as it stretches your sphincter wide //Looseness 5+: {Silly mode: It's like throwing a hotdog down a hallway as Ciaran's mastiff member fails to even brush the walls of your clown car cavity. Coincidentally, a breeze blows through the area, and you hear the wind whistling through your cavernous chasm //else: You knew before he even started that your greedy ass needed no warm-up. Even now, the thick red rocket penetrating you feels just right in your hungry hole, and in less than a second Ciaran has bottomed out inside you}. You groan as much in delight as disappointment, wishing as always that there was simply more dickmeat on hand to wreck your once-tight asshole with.} The warmth of Ciaran's throbbing shaft is hellishly pleasurable, and by the time the DILF's infernally-hot cock bottoms out inside you, {has penis: your [pc.cocks] are throbbing without even being touched //has vagina: [pc.eachVagina] {is/are} clenching jealously, feeling frustratingly empty compared to your far too full anus //has both: your cock{s are //is} throbbing without being touched even as [pc.eachVagina] clench{es} jealously //neuter: your whole body is tingling}.

}

Ciaran shuts his eyes and groans a hot breath into your [pc.ear] as the relief of finally sheathing his desperate cock inside your warm hole washes over him. The sound of his pleasure is so earnest and masculine that you can't help but shiver in auditory delight. His shaft throbs eagerly inside you, pulsing out huge globs of oh-so-hot precum to splatter against your deepest reaches. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, still feeling more sensitive than usual from cumming all over yourself once already. The older ausar's keen ears twitch, and he props himself up again to gaze down at you with a predatory smirk. "No, no, none of that. Let's not have any more holding back now, [pc.name]. I want to hear you moan under me. I want to hear all the vulgar noises your ass makes around my cock as I fuck you to pieces. And more than anything else," he leans down to whisper breathily into your [pc.ears], "I want to hear your pretty little voice scream my name again, and again, and again." Ciaran emphasizes each "again" by withdrawing his red-hot shaft before slamming it into you to the edge of his knot{has penis:, dragging his well-lubed hardness along your prostate with each thrust until your eyes cross and your [pc.legs] spasm slightly}.

Your alien paramour pauses once more to allow you to recover from his surprise assault, leaning down to {height <5'8: kiss the top of your head reassuringly //else: snare your [pc.lipsChaste] with his own in a deep, hungry kiss}. Ciaran suddenly places his furred hands on your [pc.chest],{PC has boobs: groping your bosom and} teasing your nipples mercilessly{PC is lactating:, actually licking his chops like a cartoon wolf when your [pc.milk] flows out to soak his palms and your [pc.skinFurScales]} as he begins thrusting into your channel in earnest. Ciaran uses his grip on your [pc.breasts] as leverage to begin mashing his pelvis into yours. At first he fucks you with long, slow drags of his cock, withdrawing all the way to his tip before penetrating you just a little deeper at a new angle each time, {PC has penis: doing his best to stimulate your prostate and} every inch of your bowels. Soon, warmth builds in your belly, but it's so much hotter than usual. You feel like you're past the point you normally would've orgasmed, but the sheer stimulation you're receiving is both intensifying and delaying your release, like a fire having so much fuel added to it that it almost smothers but only grows hotter and smokier as it nearly gutters out.

When the hellhound suddenly teases your [pc.nipples] with a light rake of his claws, it's like blowing a bellows on that struggling flame inside you. That internal heat flares into an inferno of ecstasy, and every nerve in your body combusts with sheer bliss. You try to scream your pleasure, but only a hoarse whine escapes you as your muscles tense up. You throw your [pc.legs] around Ciaran's hips and claw at his hard-muscled back while your ass frantically clenches and wrings his cock, all in a reflexive effort to force him to cum inside you, but your lust-wracked frame is powerless against the muscular DILF. For most of this tryst he has focused on your pleasure at the expense of his own, but now it seems he is finished with his deferential treatment of your body.

When Ciaran feels {has penis: your cum spurting onto him} {has penis and vagina with wetness 4 or more: and} {Has vagina: Wetness 4-5: your [pc.girlCum] squirting all over his crotch along with //wetness 6+: your [pc.girlCum] squirting all over his crotch, abdomen, and legs, along with} your [pc.asshole] milking his cock for cum, he takes mercy on you and thrusts deeply into your spasming sphincter. His knot kisses your rosebud with a lewd squelch of alien pre-cum before he begins to grind hard into you. Stars fill your vision as Ciaran's tapered cockhead digs into {has penis: your prostate //else: your bowels} while his knot teases your dark star with the promise of an even greater stretching to come. The orgasmic contractions of your [pc.asshole] redouble their efforts to bring your partner to his own climax, but aside from a powerful twitch and a massive shot of that hot pre-cum, Ciaran seems like he's just getting warmed up. When your orgasm finally begins to wind down and you let your body go slack, your suspicion is confirmed by a soft chuckle from Ciaran. You gaze up at him through heavily-lidded eyes, panting and sweating even though you've simply been lying on your back this whole time. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Cumming on my cock already, [pc.name]? Well you might want to try to hold out a little longer than that this time. I won't be slowing down again until I fuck this big, thick knot into you." He grinds the bulb of flesh against your entrance, just the very edge of his endowment already pushing your anus to its limits. "And it's gonna be a whole lot bigger when I do," he husks, nipping your ear sensually before he resumes thrusting into you once more.

You mewl piteously, feeling utterly exhausted after two powerful climaxes and no rest, but you can't find it in yourself to really complain. You're tired and sweaty, but it's just so satisfying to be the object of such a hunky man's desire. It certainly doesn't hurt that the fuck Ciaran is dishing out feels incredible, and he seems to only be speeding up. Gradually he builds to a brisk pace as you lie under him gasping for air between moans, succeeding only in breathing in more of his wonderful pheromones. In your overheated state, you feel as if you're melting. Your muscles are like jelly,{PC is goo:even more so than usual,} and it's a monumental effort just to lift your arms. The buffet of sculpted flesh suspended above you proves too tempting to pass up though, and you can't help but reach up to feel the hard curves of Ciaran's physique. His tanned flesh feels rough in the most deliciously masculine way, and as you touch his myriad scars you are left wondering about each one's origin before Ciaran grinds his engorged knot into your sphincter, shocking the thought from your mind with the sheer size of his endowment.

The hellhound continues sloppily grinding his breeding bulb into your ass in an effort to stimulate the increasingly sensitive ball of flesh. The sheer heat of his endowment and the force with which he grinds it into your stretched backdoor {has penis: while his cockhead batters your prostate} hellishly straddles the line between pleasure and pain, leaving your [pc.thighs] trembling as your moans grow in pitch and volume until eventually you're screaming Ciaran's name and exhorting him alternatively to slow down, ease off, speed up, or grind into you even harder, your body having been pushed so closely to the margin of pain without ever crossing it that you don't know if you want this to stop or go on forever.

Ciaran never once relents in grinding his knot into your [pc.butt], and when he finally presses into you hard enough to begin stretching your entrance around his bulb, your breath hitches and your body locks up. When a heavy splurt of thick precum splatters against your walls you suddenly and violently clamp down on every inch of burning cockflesh filling you, throwing your head back and {Treated: mooing //else: moaning} deeply as your whole body fitfully trembles in an orgasm you barely have the energy for. Your {has penis: cock spurts a few thing ropes of [pc.cum], having ejaculated too recently to have much more to expel} {has both: while} {just vag: your cunny clenches and spasms wildly as it {Wetness <4: gushes a trickle of femcum to soak Ciaran's groin and his hot knot and dampening the sheets under your [pc.ass] // wetness 4-6: squirts a huge volume of femcum, soaking Ciaran's hot knot and massive balls and wetting your thighs as the [pc.girlCumColor] puddle under you [pc.ass] expands //Wetness 6+: squirts so much [pc.girlCumColor] femcum that it splatters wetly off of his groin to paint his entire lower half with a new coating of [pc.girlCum] as the lake of sexual fluids under your [pc.ass] expands// neuter: bowels wring at his cock with incredible fervor}.

When he feels your {genitals: sexual fluids soaking //neuter: ass squeezing} him again, the canid man releases his grip on your [pc.hips] and grasps the headboard of your bed. Ciaran's manhood is like red-hot iron, and now that your pleasure has quenched it somewhat he withdraws his knot from your entrance before his hips begin hammering the entirety of his burning hardness into you once more, not waiting even a moment for you to recuperate. You alternately whine and moan, wanting to rest but loving every second of this incredibly rough treatment. In just this short amount of time, Ciaran has sussed out your pleasure redline, and he obviously intends to keep your body running at it for the rest of this tryst. All you can do is lie back and take everything this virile man has to give you as he uses your body for his pleasure.

Your submissiveness is rewarded richly. Ciaran establishes a seemingly unconscious cycle of sawing his fat cock in and out of your bowels at alternating angles to maximize your pleasure, stimulating your walls {has penis: and prostate} until the urge to stimulate his knot overwhelms him, whereupon he savagely mashes the growing ball of flesh into your [pc.ass], taking time to pleasure himself while forcing you to cum repeatedly. He sinks his knot just a bit deeper into your entrance each time your anus contracts orgasmically, basting your walls in creamy pre-cum and groaning his hot pleasure into your ear whenever he does, giving you false hope that he's about to tie you before, maddeningly, he starts fucking you again. Your vocalizations grow quieter as your waning endurance wears thinner, while every penetration grows louder as your twitching tunnel becomes wetter and stickier. Hours pass; sometimes you try to make Ciaran slow down, other times you try to make him speed up, but always he soldiers on, pulling so many orgasms from you that you become firmly convinced he knows your body better than you do.

The hellhound's knot, already large when he first disrobed, has been engorging with more blood, growing larger, hotter, and more sensitive as the sex drags on. Every time Ciaran bottoms out inside you, he wiggles his hips a bit to force the sensitive bulb of flesh into your constricting asshole, making you {Treated: moo //else: moan} loudly each time. The more his knot swells, the more eager he is to grind it into your [pc.asshole], until eventually his bitchbreaker is frighteningly large and all he's doing is grinding it into you. Ciaran's thick cock swells even thicker and twitches meaningfully, and he moves his clawed hands to your [pc.ass], lifting your {low tone, high thickness: squishy //low tone, low thickness: soft //high tone, high thickness: firm //high tone, low thickness: hard} butt into the ideal position for the deepest penetration possible. You sense the change in his demeanor and instinctively throw your [pc.legs] around his hips, marshaling the last of your energy to help your partner bring this wild bout of sex to a close. Ciaran grunts as he slams his hips into yours, using his enormous bitchbreaker like a battering ram to force your backdoor open{Silly mode: without even getting a warrant first}.

You lift your hips to meet Ciaran's thrusts and press him into you with your [pc.legs] until finally, with an incredibly loud, incredibly sloppy pop, he triumphantly ties the two of you, instinctively nestling his tapered cockhead as deeply as he can to ensure you'll be bred as thoroughly as possibly, even in spite of the obvious futility of that effort. There's a delay right on the precipice of orgasm, as if your body was so distracted with the effort of taking such a massive insertion that it forgot it was supposed to feel pleasure from it. Your climax is all the more ecstatic when it finally arrives, stars filling your vision as you hoarsely scream {Treated: a moo of //else: in} total bliss as your butt clenches and wrings Ciaran's cock.

Your cry is cut short when that fat dick throbs powerfully and blasts an enormous load of incredibly hot jizz deep into your bowels, searing the depths of your plugged ass, basting every millimeter of your walls in musky, white cum. The second spurt of alien seed is fired with even greater force, followed almost instantly by an endless series of ejaculations of thermal spunk, filling your deepest reaches with incredible warmth. Your entire body trembles and twitches with the overwhelming ecstasy of a continuous orgasm as Ciaran dumps a massive load of hyper-virile ausar seed into your sorely-used backside, groaning and panting in bliss and wagging his tail even as he makes short, jerky thrusts into your [pc.butt] to better stuff your bowels with his spunk. In short order your belly begins to swell with creamy cum, the breeding bulb sealing your sphincter doing its job and ensuring that you receive the most thorough insemination possible. Your oh-so-hot cream filling continues until you've swollen up to a 9 months pregnant look, when Ciaran's ejaculations gradually slow down.

As Ciaran's orgasm wanes, he finally relaxes, letting out a deep breath before looking down at you. Though you expected him to be smug again about making you scream his name, he instead smiles earnestly at you, a very paternal warmth behind his expression. He strokes your sweat-soaked {hair/head} gently as he leans down on his elbow, {height <5'8: kissing the top of your head and whispering sweet nothings to you //else: capturing your [pc.lipsChaste] in a tender kiss as he cups your cheek protectively} while his member continues to sporadically pulse, still trickling a non-stop stream of hot, creamy seed into your already-stuffed bottom. You practically melt under the ausar's gentle affections, even as you finally feel like you've adjusted to Ciaran's higher body temperature. All too soon though, your eyelids grow heavy, your accumulated fatigue finally catching up to you. Ciaran props himself up on his elbows, grinning congenially and wagging his tail lazily. "Feeling tired, kiddo?"

You barely have the strength to do so, but you nod your head yes.

}

//PC should cum a stupidly large number of times, pass 11 hours, probably don't bother with calculating cumflation since it'd all be over when the PC wakes up

[Next]

You sleep soundly in the powerful embrace of the fatherly older man. His boundless stamina has burned through every bit of energy in your body, but you'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. You haven't slept this deeply in ages, so you're not really accustomed to the groggy feeling that shrouds your mind and senses as you slowly awaken. The first thing you realize is just how {silly mode: h*cking //else: fucking} sore your entire lower half feels. You're pretty sure that if you threw the sheets back right now, cartoon stars would be shooting off of your {Vaginal scene: womanhood //Anal scene: backside}. You're going to be sitting and walking funny all day, and your {[pc.cunt] //else: [pc.asshole]} feels like it is screaming at you over the rough treatment it has received. {Silly mode, vagina only: You think you might have a cuntcussion.}

You shut your eyes and groan in discomfort as you roll over onto your side, reaching out for the comforting embrace of Ciaran. After a few blind, probing touches fail to find the warm body you crave, you open your eyes, finally realizing that you're in bed alone. You sit up with a groan, ignoring your aching pelvis as you look around the room. There's no sign of Ciaran anywhere, but most of his clothes are folded up neatly on your dresser, right next to your own [pc.gear]. It looks like the DILF did some cleaning while you were asleep. Before you can swing your [pc.legs] out of bed to investigate though, the door to your room opens. In walks Ciaran wearing nothing but his heart-patterned boxers, bearing two plates of food and a huge smile.

{Silly mode: "Alright, sweetheart, what are you waiting for? Breakfast in bed? Another glorious day on New Texas! A day on New Texas is like a day on the farm. Every meal's a banquet! Every paycheck a fortune! Every herd a parade! I love New Texas! //else: Good morning, [pc.name]! Did you sleep well? Of course you did. You were dog-tired," he says with an exaggerated wink.} You're still a bit groggy, so all you can muster in response to his atrocious humor is {Nice personality: to put your face in your hands and groan //mischievous: rolling your eyes and sarcastically pantomiming a rimshot //hard: two middle fingers way up}. Ciaran laughs loudly at your response, clearly finding far more enjoyment in your reaction than in the joke itself.

The hellhound sits down at the foot of the bed and hands you one of the plates he was carrying. It's a hearty breakfast of eggs, buttered biscuits, and grits, and it's still steaming hot. When you smell the delicious food in front of you, you realize that you're absolutely ravenous. You practically snatch the spoon Ciaran offers you out of his furred hand, and immediately begin to wolf down your food. The DILF watches you with a sly smile as he eats his own breakfast. When you notice him observing you, you swallow your current mouthful a bit self-consciously before asking Ciaran why he's smiling like that.

He beams proudly in response before answering, "I'm just always happy to see someone enjoy my cooking. It's really fulfilling to nourish another person with nothing but my own efforts. If you can believe it, I was a househusband when I was younger. Cooking was one of my favorite things about it."

You find it so difficult to imagine this scarred, rugged ausar of all people as a happy househusband that you can't help but begin giggling. The DILF feigns a frown and mock-scolds you. "Hey now, that's not very nice, young [pc.manWoman]. Didn't they tell you in school you can be whatever you set your mind to? Or do you just have such a thing for older men that you were too busy ogling your teachers?"

{PC is bimbo: You gasp for a moment before breaking out into bubbly laughter. Ciaran has seen right through you. Even if you didn't ogle your teachers back then, you sure would now. //else: You gasp briefly before putting on your best wounded face.} Ciaran laughs mischievously at your response. Before you can formulate a witty retort though, he speaks up again. "I went out and bought the ingredients while you were still asleep. Best thing about an agri-world is how cheap food is, but I gotta admit: the local cuisine was a bit of culture shock. I figure as much you were sweating when I was fucking your brains out though, a nice, hot, salty meal was what you needed. Lucky you I felt like cooking instead of offering you my usual nice, hot, salty meal." Ciaran grins lasciviously as he grabs his package through the thin fabric of his boxers, and you blush at his insinuation. {bimbo/cumslut: You really wish he had offered to let you drink his cum though. You bet it would've been totally yummy!} You distract yourself by returning to your food, and quickly polish off the remaining morsels. Once you're finished eating, Ciaran takes your empty plate and his own back to the kitchen.

While he's gone you take the opportunity to climb out of bed. Your {pussy/ass} still aches in protest, but you ignore it and stretch your limbs, yawning as you shake the last bit of stiffness from your body. It's then you realize just how powerfully your bedroom reeks of sex. As you begin to strip the sheets from your bed, you can't help but notice just how much musky, spicy ausar semen there is on the bed. Your {pussy/ass} has drained out by now, but there's so much spunk covering the bed that you can only imagine it is the result of multiple loads. Did Ciaran keep filling you even as the two of you slept? {ifBimbo: Like, wow! If only every night could be like that!} You flush a bit at the thought. When you're bent over the bed removing the linens with your back to the door, you hear a sharp wolf whistle from behind you. {ifBimbo/mischievous/moderate or high exhibitionist: You {has tail: lift your [pc.tails] and} wiggle your [pc.ass] flirtatiously, putting on a very brief show for the horny older man. "Are you trying to get me to ruin your other sheets too?" Ciaran asks, only half-joking. //else: You immediately stand up straight again, reflexively covering your butt with both hands as you blush self-consciously. "Hey, why so shy, kiddo? You were comfortable with me doing a lot more than looking before now." Ciaran teases.} You hold your tongue and bundle up the dirty bedding before dropping it in the laundry. When you retrieve fresh linens, the DILF helps you make the bed again, something he does with military precision. When Ciaran notices your gaze he grins. "Once a marine, always a marine. My drill sergeant in boot camp was a huge bitch about bedding." {PC is Mercenary:

You can definitely relate to that.}

Once the bed is crisply made, Ciaran {PC not nude: throws you your [pc.gear] mischievously before he} begins redressing himself. {PC not nude: You slip on your own clothing while {bimbo: openly drooling over //else: surreptitiously ogling} Ciaran's muscles. You're sad to see his wonderful physique disappear under his cowboy garb, but you have to admit that he looks good in those clothes. You're pretty sure they'd look ridiculous on almost anyone else, but Ciaran somehow wears them with total confidence and great panache, like the idea that his ensemble might look silly never once crossed his mind.

Once {the two of you are/ he's} redressed, Ciaran smiles at you again, sincerely and affectionately. "That was a lot of fun, [pc.name], but I gotta get back to work now. I can do most of the job remotely, but I still have to report back to the station every so often." You smile back, though a bit regretfully, and tell the ausar you understand. You escort him to the exit of your ship. Before Ciaran steps out into the hangar though, he surprises you by grabbing your shoulders, spinning you to face him, and planting a smouldering kiss on your [pc.lipsChaste]. While you're still swooning, he laughs to himself and dons his cowboy hat before stepping outside. The handsome DILF gives you a wave goodbye and a final "See you around, kiddo." You lazily return his wave, still feeling a lot more flustered from his kiss than you should have. Your body is still a bit sore, but as you watch Ciaran walking off, you find yourself already wondering when you can next do this with him all over again.

//pass 1 hour, leave PC at ship, give 'em the "home cooking" buff or whatever

Lap Fuck

//tooltip: Ride that red rocket and getted knotted extra hard. You /may be biting off more than you can chew. Requires a pussy.

With a lusty grin you gesture at Ciaran's crotch and ask "Is this seat taken?"

He chuckles richly, as much at your joke as your forwardness. {Silly mode: "Do you even knot, bro?" //else: "Strangely {young man/little lady}, no. I'm not sure why; I'd say it's the best seat in the house."} He smirks at his own comment, and his pheromones begin pouring off of him in a non-verbal confirmation of his lust for you, {PC has pheromones: inundating you with a masculine scent with warm and spicy notes, reminding you of peppers and the start of a summer thunderstorm. //else: his aphrodisiac scent stoking your own passions.} The ausar returns to his chair and leans back in it, shifting the growing bulge in his pants into a more comfortable position before instructing you further. "How about you slip into something a little more comfortable while I get your seat ready for you?"

Smiling lustily, you agree with Ciaran. {PC is nude: Since you don't have any clothes to take off, you simply remove what little gear you have on as sensually as possible, taking your time to strike every seductive pose you can think of as you place your equipment to the side. //else: You make a little striptease out of disrobing, taking your sweet time in baring each part of your anatomy to the piercing orange eyes of the older man.} Ciaran is so distracted by your erotic display that by the time you're fully nude he has only managed to take off the upper half of his outfit. He gazes at you like a predator sizing up his prey, erection straining ever-harder to escape and leaving a wet stain of pre-cum on the crotch of his pants.

{PC is in heat or deep heat: Thanks to your heat //else:When you notice his obvious arousal}, you can't hold back anymore. You clamber into his lap excitedly, savoring the sensation of his own far warmer body pressing into your nude form. His torso is deliciously manly, the hard sensation of his skin and thick chest hair teasing your [pc.breasts] with an indescribably masculine texture. You run your [pc.hands] down his front, admiring his chiseled musculature and noting the many scars covering his body. His long-since healed injuries are not only numerous but diverse; claw and bite marks, blade scars, bullet wounds, even laser and plasma burns all paint a picture of violence on the canvas that is Ciaran's burly body. Your fingers pause at each wound, and you can't help but be impressed. Some of these injuries look as if they could have been fatal. Ciaran must be ridiculously tough to have survived them! You are broken from your musings by the DILF clearing his throat. Startled, you look up and lock eyes with Ciaran, those fiery orbs boring into you from atop a cocky grin. The hellhound chuckles at your expression, but when you go to speak he simply seals his lips against your own, his broad tongue sliding into your open mouth and passionately frenching you. You gasp at the surprise kiss before moaning into it as his musky pheromones assault your senses, replacing any lingering questions in your mind with an overwhelming need to breed.

You put a hand behind the DILF's head and pull him deeper into the kiss{PC has breasts and is lactating:, pressing your [pc.chest] into his broad pectorals, the pressure combined with your arousal enough to force dribbles of [pc.milk] out of your [pc.nipples], wetting the ausar's chest and allowing streams of [pc.milk] to cascade down his muscular front //else:, pressing your [pc.chest] into him}. The hulking hellhound's proportionally massive erection presses hard into your muff {PC has penis: as your own member is compressed between your bodies to smear precum all over the both of you}. The coarse texture of his pants rubs against your [pc.clits], leaving you breathless from pleasure. The delicious friction on your most sensitive parts leaves you so horny you can't think straight. Instead of doing the logical thing and pulling back for a moment to allow your partner to remove his pants, you instead grind your soaking-wet gash into his cloth-bound package. When you feel that magnificent cock twitch in response to your pussy, your heart soars. You feel so damn sexy right now! You're buck-naked in the lap of a ruggedly handsome man more than twice your age, and he's so desperate to fuck you that his cock seems like it's going to tear through his pants at any moment.

Your lust-drunk mind can't comprehend why you haven't been filled with the delicious dickmeat that is already rubbing into you. The only thing your body seems to understand is that you're supposed to be thrusting your hips right now, which is precisely what you do. You grind your mound into Ciaran's package at a feverish pace, {vaginal lubricant <4: your [pc.girlcum] staining the crotch of your partner's pants and leaving your smell on them for what will surely be days. //vaginal lubricant 4 or more: your exceptionally wet pussy drenching the entirety of your partner's pants and splattering onto his six-pack with each lewd squelch of your lower lips parting around his cloth-bound member. He's going to smell like you for hours, and his clothes are going to reek of your scent forever; the thought only makes you that much wetter.} As much as you love the feeling of rubbing off on an older man's package, {PC is exhibitionist: in public no less,} it just isn't enough for you to cum. You moan deliriously into Ciaran's mouth, your [pc.hips] still thrusting into his own as if your movements could dig through his pants. His extreme body heat combined with your desperate grinding leaves you sweating and panting for breath in the rare moments you can tolerate breaking your lip lock with the ausar DILF.

When the ausar can no longer contain his own arousal, he breaks the kiss and moves you off of him. You feel cold away from his burning warmth, and you shiver in arousal and chill. Ciaran doesn't bother to remove his [pc.girlcum]-stained pants, opting instead to merely open the fly as quickly as he can. His rock-hard cock springs instantly to attention, painfully and throbbingly erect, already coated in thick, creamy, musky precum and twitching in the air. It's truly magnificent: over a foot of thick, red flesh with a tapered head and a bitch-breaker of a knot at the base that's already begun to swell in anticipation of plugging you up and filling you with seed. Your love tunnel twitches at the sight of that massive member, eager to put it to proper use packing every inch of your pussy. Ciaran groans when his massive phallus is finally freed. He invites you to mount him again with a quiet growl of "Ready."

You idly rub your [pc.clits] with one [pc.hand] as you use the other to grab Ciaran's broad shoulder for balance. He grasps your [pc.hips] in one of his powerful, clawed hands, and uses the other to grope your [pc.ass]. The DILF's iron grip ensures you stay exactly where you're supposed to be: in position for a thorough breeding. You straddle his lap, balancing on your knees as you move into position for penetration, your muff already rubbing the underside of his shaft. The feeling of his burning-hot red rocket touching your vulva provokes a hiss of pleasure from you and a gush of lubricant from your pussy. Your lower lips grind the underside of his shaft drunkenly, coating that cock in a mixture of your own [pc.girlCum] and his heady pre-seed. After all the foreplay you've already endured you can't bear any more teasing. Ciaran evidently feels the same way; he puts both his hands under your ass and hefts you up to the top of his towering erection, the tapered head of his shaft nudging your lower lips open and threatening to penetrate you. You moan eagerly, breathless in anticipation and wild with arousal.

{//PC is virgin:

Your lover pulls you down onto his shaft agonizingly slowly, and you're thankful for the lethargic pace when his glans presses into your hymen. He immediately halts and looks up at you in surprise. "Is this your first time?" he asks softly. You bite your lip and nod your head yes, slightly embarrassed to have come so far without telling your partner. "Are you sure you're okay with this? Mine's not exactly the easiest first dick to take, if you couldn't tell."

You nod again, telling him that you don't mind. You chose him to take your virginity because you thought an older partner would be understanding and knowledgeable. His concern for you only confirms that he was the right choice.

Ciaran blushes at your words, his dick twitching inside you and leaking hot pre-cum into your tunnel. He smiles warmly at you and moves a hand to cup your cheek, pulling you into a tender, comforting kiss. His other hand squeezes your butt reassuringly before pulling you further down onto his shaft, pushing through the brief resistance he encounters as the experienced DILF gently claims your virginity. //virginity loss message here

You whimper into his kiss, tensing up at the sensation as your pussy reflexively tries to expel the intruding phallus, but your lover strokes you comfortingly and kisses you deeper, his tender affections and the gentle, inexorable force of his manhood filling you swiftly replacing any discomfort with unadulterated pleasure. When your lower lips deliver a squelching kiss to his growing knot, he breaks the kiss above to whisper reassurances into your [pc.ears], kissing and nipping at them sensually as he does so.

//PC not virgin:

Your lover pulls you down onto his shaft agonizingly slowly. {vaginal looseness 2 or less: You're grateful for the tapered shape of his cock and the slow speed at which he fills you with it; your eyes roll back into your head from the pleasurable stretching of your walls. When your lower lips deliver a squelching kiss to his growing knot you swoon at the feeling of being totally filled. //vaginal looseness 3 or 4: Even your well-trained cunny is forced wide by the wonderful pussy-stretcher being slowly fed into you. Your toes curl from the sensation of fullness you so rarely experience these days. When your lower lips deliver a squelching kiss to his growing knot you sigh happily at the feeling of having your pussy packed. //Vaginal looseness 5 or more: Your gaping pussy has no trouble whatsoever accepting the mammoth member. You greedily take every inch of flesh offered to you, even trying to force yourself down faster in your hunger for massive insertions. When your lower lips deliver a squelching kiss to his growing knot you moan in disappointment that there is no more dickflesh to pack into your [pc.cunt].

}

You press your face into the lawman's neck, relishing his warmth and breathing deeply of his intoxicating, masculine scent. Ciaran wraps his muscular arms around you, pulling you closer to him as he traces the curves of your body with his clawed fingers. You feel so safe in the older man's embrace, and each throb of his shaft inside you serves as proof of how sexy you are. The ausar DILF allows you several long moments to revel in your sexual connection with him{PC has no canine tail:, his rapidly-wagging tail giving away that he's enjoying this just as much you. //PC has canine tail: His tail wags just as rapidly as your own, giving away that he's enjoying this just as much as you.} Eventually though, you both grow impatient, your temporarily-sated lusts rising again from such close contact with a willing partner.

Ciaran moves his hands to your [pc.ass] again and lifts you up. You mewl pathetically at the feeling of overwhelming emptiness his burning-hot rod leaves as it withdraws from your channel. When only the head of his tremendously long cock remains inside you, he finally thrusts into you again, this time all at once. You cry out in ecstasy as the hellhound slams you down on his member with a wet slap, filling you suddenly and completely, his cock's tip kissing your womb in an intimate promise of the thorough seeding to come even as his breeding bulb grinds your [pc.clits]. Your lover immediately repeats the maneuver, increasing the speed of his movements each time until he reaches a crisp pace. His thick shaft swells even thicker with blood from the pleasant friction it's receiving, bulging deliciously as the veins on its surface swell to press into the nerves of your pussy. The feeling drives you wild, and you instinctively begin to follow the pace he has set, thrusting your [pc.hips] into him in a vulgar symphony of lurid squelches and claps of flesh on flesh. When Ciaran notices you've started to bounce on your own, he moves his hands from your [pc.ass] to your [pc.chest], pinching and pulling at your nipples with furred fingers.{

PC is lactating: The cock inside you swells and twitches excitedly when your [pc.milk] begins to leak over the ausar's fingers. Immediately, Ciaran leans down to take your [pc.nipple] in his mouth, eagerly sampling your lactation. Your breath hitches from the incredible sensation of simultaneously being penetrated and being suckled from. Seemingly on instinct, Ciaran's powerful hands massage your chest, his consummate motions coaxing out as much of your motherly bounty as possible while also feeling utterly divine. You heart flutters from the unique feeling of intimacy and connectedness that can only come from nursing another person. The enthusiasm your partner shows as he gulps down your [pc.milk] only makes the experience better, and the skill with which he suckles your teat stokes your lusts even higher. The older man's oral affections are at least as effective as any mechanical pump would be at extracting your liquid nourishment; his lips provide the perfect amount of suction as his tongue lavishes your teat with tender strokes, tracing elaborate patterns that keep the sensations from fading into the background and cause your bud to throb as it feeds the ausar more of your [pc.milk]. You grab his horns and pull his head harder into your [pc.breasts], the extra pressure forcing even more of your lactic essence to flow into Ciaran's eager mouth. {PC is Treated: Nursing your partner as he fucks you silly is the most natural feeling in the world to your Treated mind. You weren't aware of it before, but you've been incomplete up until now, and the sensation of lips sucking on your [pc.nipple] and a cock pounding into you has completed you. You feel whole and fulfilled, like you're being put to your proper purpose; the only way you could be happier is if this canine stud knocked you up. With no input from your conscious mind, that desire to be bred sets your pussy into overdrive, clenching at and milking the thick dick inside you in a frenzied effort to hasten your impregnation.}} The merciless teasing your nipples are receiving quickly takes its toll on you, leaving you gasping and moaning excitedly as your pussy spasms around Ciaran's red rocket.

Whenever you are tempted to slow down and savor the tryst, your burly paramour seizes you by the hips again and bounces you on his lap until you move at the pace he dictates. When he wants you to go faster, he bucks his hips up into you at the apex of your movements, and once you've sped up he never allows you to slow down for long. Ciaran rewards your good behavior with kisses and nibbles to your ears, while punishing any efforts to deviate from the rhythm he has set with a tweak of your nipple or a sudden shocking bite to your shoulder or neck. His bites never injure you; they simply add in a dash of pain to the sea of pleasure you're swimming in, the feeling of his sharp teeth grazing your [pc.skinFurScales] and the knowledge that he could injure you if he truly wished sending shivers of submissive pleasure through you.

It almost feels as if the heat from Ciaran's red-hot rod has permeated you in some way. Every bit of you is sweaty from both your constant movements and the incredible warmth of the hellhound's body and manhood. Even through your own feverish temperature, you can feel warmth pooling in your midsection. Your box begins to clench tighter, and your back arches of its own volition as you {bimbo: whorishly moan //else: softly whimper} unconsciously. As the speed and intensity of your penetration escalates and your [pc.clits] continue{s} to rub against your partner's knot, so too does the heat in your belly worsen. Instinctively, you know that more stimulation, more pleasure, more {silly mode: cowbell //else: cock} is all that can quench the roaring inferno. You feverishly slam yourself down onto Ciaran's magnificent member, changing the angle of your descent slightly to maximize the friction your [pc.clits] receive{s}, {bimbo: emitting an erotic chorus of pleasured sounds without even realizing it //else: biting your lip to stifle your moans}, and splattering your [pc.girlCum] {vaginal wetness <4: all over your thighs and Ciaran's crotch //4 or 5 wetness: all over your [pc.legs], Ciaran's stomach and crotch, and the immediate vicinity //wetness >5: all over your [pc.legs], Ciaran's crotch, torso, and his face, and somehow even landing on the masturbating voyeurs who have gathered to watch the show}. Just when you think you'll either go mad or melt, you finally achieve glorious release. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your whole body locks up. You throw back your head and announce your climax to the entire saloon with a throaty moan of pure delight as your pussy clenches rhythmically and {vaginal wetness <4: gushes [pc.girlCum] to run down your partner's cock and drip off of his balls into his pants // vaginal wetness 4+: squirts a torrent of [pc.girlCum], drenching your partner's manhood and pooling in and under his pants.} On biological auto-pilot, your hips drive you downwards to fill you with as much cock as possible. You grind your [pc.clits] against Ciaran's knot roughly, thrusting your pelvis into him with short, quick, needy jerks and rapid, wet schliiicks that send more of your feminine fluids flying. {PC has cock: The [pc.cocksLight] sandwiched between your [pc.belly] and Ciaran's own chiseled abs join{s} your [pc.cunts] in orgasm, {PC cum amount very small: dribbling // normal: squirting // a lot: pumping ropes of //stupid amount: geysering gallons of} your [pc.cum] out to stain you and the hellhound [pc.cumColor].}

As your orgasm winds down and twitching aftershocks roll through your pussy, you nuzzle your head into your alien paramour's neck, inhaling more and more of his potent scent as you gasp for breath. You close your eyes in exhaustion, simply enjoying your afterglow and relaxing. Your rest is cut short by a deep growl that you can actually feel against your [pc.chest]. Startled, you look up into Ciaran's glowing eyes to see him wearing a nearly feral expression. His hands clench your ass hard enough to hurt slightly as he gruffly asks "Forgetting something, [pc.name]?" You realize what he means immediately when his massive cock twitches powerfully inside of you. You're embarrassed to have gotten so lost in your own pleasure that you forgot your partner, but at the same time you're impressed with the restraint he showed in waiting for you to finish your own orgasm.

Sheepishly, you apologize to him and slowly resume bouncing on his red-hot rod, moaning loudly as your still-sensitive folds drag along his shaft. The sudden stimulation makes your box spasm fitfully from your recent orgasm, the sensation bordering on over-stimulation. Still you soldier on, feeling you owe Ciaran for such an enjoyable orgasm. He's patient enough with you for a while, giving you a chance to get your second wind before he resumes his previous "encouragements". It doesn't take long for you work back up to your previous rhythm, moving your still-spasming folds up and down the length of the canine member inside you, your eager cunny milking spurts of precum larger than a normal man's ejaculate out of the rugged DILF's cock. You can't help but yelp loudly in pleasure each time one of those creamy spurts bastes your walls. With Ciaran's cock now twitching eagerly and unloading what feels like gallons of thick pre-ejaculate into you, you start to feel that familiar heat in your abdomen returning after just a few minutes. You bite your lip desperately, trying to hold off your inevitable climax and return the pleasure your partner has given you as best you are able.

It's a losing battle. As you hump the hellhound harder, he emits more and more of those damnably arousing pheromones and pumps more creamy pre-ejaculate into your channel. Finally, when you bottom out on his cock in an effort to pleasure his swelling knot, the tapered cockhead nestled against your cervix blasts that sensitive opening with a massive, scalding load of pre-seed. The sensation instantly makes you scream in pleasure, your eyes going wide as you throw your [pc.legs] around the canine DILF's back and grind your [pc.clits] as hard as you can against his throbbing breeder's bulb, totally heedless of your partner's comfort as the ecstasy drives all conscious thought from your mind. This orgasm is even longer and more intense than the first, your [pc.toes] curling, your back arching{PC has tail:, your [pc.tails] {PC tail canine: wagging as fast as {it/they} can // else: thrashing}}, and your womanhood attempting every trick {PC is Treated: the Treatment //else: nature} has given it to force the cock inside of it to submit and breed you.

It doesn't work. Feeling as if you'll pass out as your orgasm wanes, you look at Ciaran through heavily lidded eyes, your face darkly flushed as you pant and heave for air. Your voice is hoarse from all the moaning and shouting you've been doing, and it takes a tremendous effort just to whisper an apology. Blushing even darker, you confess to the ausar that you don't think you can keep bouncing on him.

His face is half-crazed with arousal. After being edged twice already his sack is churning and his cock is throbbing with need. He brushes his lips against your ear and quietly growls a simple command: "Let me take charge."

As soon as you murmur your consent you are bounced into the air by a brutal thrust from Ciaran. His cock feels as though it is emitting a constant stream of pre, and even through his pants you can feel his scrotum throb against your ass; you dimly realize his sack contains two more cum-factories than a normal man's, but the implications are blasted from your mind by the next bone-rattling thrust from Ciaran. He grasps your hips firmly, his claws digging into your flesh hard enough to leave marks, ten little pin pricks that will show any other lovers in the next few days that you, at least for a time, were this virile hellhound's breeding bitch. That thought makes your sweat-slicked [pc.skinFurScales] burn even hotter, and sets your middle aflame again with the building heat of an orgasm. You're thankful that the Treatment changes the subconscious of its users; even when he's almost lost to a breeding rut, Ciaran somehow still manages to pleasure you almost artfully. His thrusts may look guileless and bestial, but you can certainly feel otherwise. Each penetration is at a slightly different angle from the last, and every time he bottoms you out on his knot he gyrates his hips a bit to ensure your [pc.clits] receive{s} the maximum amount of stimulation.

His personal pheromones have completely saturated every nook and cranny of your olfactory organs. You can even taste him when you breathe through your mouth, that wonderful odor of cooked peppers and summer rain somehow combining with the smell of sex to create a scent finer to your lust-addled mind than the finest perfume. Doubtless you will smell like Ciaran until you thoroughly bathe, his scent marking you as his territory the same way his claws have.

The pheromones fogging your brain seem to have done something to your refractory rate, because in barely more than a minute you're creaming his cock again. You're so exhausted that all you can do is cling to the canine DILF desperately and softly moan. Your pussy spasms in ecstasy once more, but this time Ciaran doesn't slow down. If anything, he speeds up, fucking you through your orgasm until you see stars from overstimulation. You cum again after that, then once more after that. The time between each orgasm decreases until you are locked in a state of almost-perpetual orgasm, your face pressed into the crook of Ciaran's neck as you inhale his wonderful scent and whimper quietly. {Silly mode: You want to get off Mr. Eildean's Wild Ride, but the ride never ends.}

Time loses all meaning to you as you simply accept your role as a pleasure-drunk vessel for Ciaran's lust. The only thing that snaps you back to lucidity is a sudden and dramatic change in your lover's movements. He begins slamming his phallus into you in short, powerful thrusts, his obscenely-swollen knot trying as hard as it can to batter your pussy into submission. With mindless instinct Ciaran grabs you by the [pc.ass] and begins pushing you downwards each time he thrusts his cock into you. When this fails to yield results, Ciaran growls and bites your neck in a show of dominance. That extra bit of sensation is all it takes for your pussy to allow that massive bulb of flesh to pop into you with a lurid squelch, allowing the tapered tip of the canine cock to kiss your womb and make good on its earlier promise to seed you. Thick, sticky, and above all hot jets of semen flood your abused womanhood. Your tunnel fills up after the first wonderful throb of hellhound cock, and with that gigantic knot sealing your entrance, the only place for the hyper-virile seed to go is into your defenseless womb. You mewl in pleasure and pain, excited to be claimed and bred by such a wonderful mate, happy even for the slight pain of his claws and teeth scoring your flesh and his spunk distending your belly. Even though you were the one on top this whole time, you've still completely and utterly submitted to Ciaran in the end, and you're thrilled to have done so. The burning heat of his semen in your expanding womb is the greatest reward for submission you could've asked for.

Ciaran's orgasm never seems to end. Every time you think your uterus can't handle any more of his creamy ausar seed, you expand again to take in more. Even if your other organs are starting to complain, your womb just can't seem to get enough cum, always greedily stretching to accept even more baby batter in a deep-seated biological urge to ensure conception. When you finally look like you're in your third trimester of a pregnancy, you shudder in one final orgasm and briefly black out. While unconscious, your mind conjures up images of eager ausar sperm fertilizing your [pc.race] eggs, and your belly swelling up with a litter of pups. It seems even if your own wishes and desires don't match up, your body is eager to breed.

You awaken like a princess from a storybook: to a gentle kiss on your lips. Briefly you wonder if your dream about pregnancy wasn't just a dream; your womb feels so hot and full, and your belly is stretched obscenely. When you feel a hot spurt of cum against your cervix though, you realize what's happening. You're still knotted on Ciaran's cock, his member even now continuing to pump more jizz into you. The DILF is stroking your face and body tenderly, almost apologetically. He breaks his liplock with you to kiss around your face until he reaches your [pc.ears], where he softly whispers {silly mode: sweet arigatou's that make your kokoro go doki doki// else: apologies, words of gratitude, and warm, genuine praise}. Whenever he's silent for long enough you can hear moos of pleasure in the background as the locals who were watching you finish masturbating. Ciaran's current behavior is a shocking departure from his previous actions, but you're too exhausted to really ponder it. Instead you simply luxuriate in the gentle affection and pampering you're receiving.

The ausar looks over your body with the eye of a father checking over a child, scanning you for any injuries he may have caused. Each time he speaks, his voice is a low, rumbling growl that vibrates your body. "I'm sorry [pc.name]. Did these hurt? Let me kiss them better for you." At each bite mark he left on you earlier he now plants a delicate kiss, and though you should know better, the placebo effect turns the kisses into a soothing balm. You've finally adjusted to the hellhound's overwhelming body heat, and now it combined with your cream filling just makes you feel perfectly warm, all of your aches and worries fading away in the afterglow of an amazing bout of sex. You nuzzle into Ciaran again, allowing him to pamper you until you fall asleep once more.

[Next]

When you wake up you're on a soft surface that you slowly realize is a luxuriously soft bed. The second thing you realize is that your [pc.cunt] is very empty and very sore. Just trying to move your legs provokes a hoarse groan from your parched throat. The sound causes a huge mass of black fur and muscle to shift around next to you in bed: it's Ciaran, lying under the covers with one of his huge arms draped protectively over your cum-stuffed belly. He smiles warmly when he sees you're awake, his eyes twinkling. "Good morning starshine. New Texas says hello. Did you get enough rest?"

You moan and groan a bit, shifting around to try to find a more comfortable position under your sperm-paunched midriff before you answer that yes, you did rest well, but you're thirsty and more than a bit sore.

The handsome DILF tenderly rubs a furred hand across the dome of your abdomen as you speak. When you finish he pats your belly affectionately, the action forcing a bit of cum to squirt out of your pussy to join the large puddle underneath your ass. You blush as you realize just how much of the stuff there already is, but if it bothers Ciaran he doesn't show it. He simply mutters "One sec," before rolling out of bed and walking over to a table on the far side of the room. On the table sits your gear, a pitcher, two glasses, and a few items you can't make out from this distance owing to their small size. Ciaran grabs a glass and fills it with the contents of the pitcher, which turns out to be full of cool, clear water. With his other hand he scoops up the smaller items before walking back over to you. He hands you the glass of water and a small pill. "Here, take this pill and drink all of this."

{PC is nice: Trusting him implicitly, you take the pill as soon as he offers it. You're too good-natured to be suspicious of him at this point, so you simply swallow the pill and eagerly gulp down the refreshing water. //Mischievous: You cock an eyebrow at him slyly, asking him if you're about to wake up in a bathtub full of ice with one less kidney. The older ausar rolls his eyes at you. "It's a minor painkiller. The bordello's employees use them in situations like yours." He smirks proudly at his comment. You accept the pill and eagerly gulp down the refreshing water. //Hard: You ask the older ausar if he really thinks you'll just take a strange pill without knowing what it is. He rolls his eyes at you. "It's a minor painkiller. The bordello's employees use them in situations like yours." He smirks proudly at his comment. You accept the pill and eagerly gulp down the refreshing water.}

Shortly after you swallow the medicine your sore and abused pussy finally stops aching. The drink of water also soothes your parched throat. You thank Ciaran for the painkiller and the drink, handing him the empty glass. He returns it to the table, exchanging it for another of the small items. He walks back to the bed, leaning over you and hoisting you up and over to the edge of the bed. Thankfully he leaves you wrapped up in the sheets, so you aren't too cold being exposed to the comparatively cool air of the room. Taking a seat on the bed himself, your alien paramour pulls the sheets down past your [pc.nipples], which quickly harden from the sudden temperature drop. You shiver slightly, but the hellhound's warm, furry hand on your shoulder helps keep the chill at bay. Ciaran examines you thoroughly, eyeing the various hickeys and lovebites he left all over your neck, shoulders, and chest. You're surprised to see him blush just a bit when he notices a few places where he drew blood.

"Geeze, I'm really sorry kid. I get a bit carried away when I get too horny. It's fairly common with Treated ausar. I mean, you had to know they call us hellhounds for a reason." His voice is low and soft, and though he chuckles at his explanatory comment you can clearly see he feels guilty about hurting you.

You try to comfort him by explaining that you loved how rough he was with you, that the small abrasions he left were all part of what made the experience enjoyable. {PC was virgin when they chose this scene: You'll certainly never forget losing your virginity like this.}

Ciaran just won't accept your words. "No, I still shouldn't have done it; bite wounds get infected very easily, especially when you're sweating at the time like you were. I'm going to put some antibiotic gel on those bites."

You try to protest, saying that you can just as easily do that yourself when you return to your ship.

The DILF cuts your complaints off early with a silencing gesture. He speaks gruffly and sternly. "I was your age once too. I know how kids like you think: you're young, you think you're invincible, you've got better things to do than put medicine on a tiny cut. Then it gets infected and next thing you know, it's off to the doctor with a raging fever."

You explain to him that you have been implanted with micro-surgeons which make common bacterial infections a non-issue. This doesn't stop Ciaran however, who still frets over you. "Be that as it may, this gel will also help you heal faster, and keep any of those bites from hurting once that painkiller wears off," then, so quiet you can barely hear him, "and make it so {that/those} beautiful [pc.skinFurScales] doesn't scar."

At that comment you just smile and allow the doting DILF to do as he wishes. It's clear to you now that he's doing this as much to relieve his own guilty feelings as he is to take care of you. There's also the fact that being coddled every once in awhile simply feels wonderful. The personal attention Ciaran is smothering you with sends joyful tingles through your scalp and back. The older man's behavior is still a bit shocking to you. Gone is the cocky, sexually aggressive hellhound you normally see, replaced instead by a man who dotes on you and treats you gently and with paternal affection. As he massages the gel into your bitemarks, you notice that his canine tail is wagging fairly quickly, the gleam of his ring shining through the fur occasionally. Sometimes you even notice the ausar taking a big whiff of your scent, as if to memorize your personal smell. When he has finished applying the antibiotic to your upper half, he gives you more commands. "Alright, drop those sheets and show me that heinie. I know for a fact I left scratches on your hips and butt."

Given the current state of your box, gaped and dripping a river of cum as it is, you're {exhibitionist: excited //else: embarrassed} to expose yourself to the older man, even after all you've already done together. Suppressing your feelings, you do as instructed and present your hind end to him, {PC has tail: lifting your [pc.tails] out of the way dutifully}. In this position you can't help but put weight on your massively distended belly as it hangs low beneath you. The compression forces a jet of doggy seed out of your pussy with a lewd, wet squelch that makes you blush darkly in embarrassment. You're even more embarrassed when you realize that your impromptu squirt just splattered onto Ciaran's six-pack. He doesn't seem phased in the least, simply reaching down to scrape off as much of the wasted jizz as possible. He brings the cum-soaked hand up to his nose to sniff before licking his hand clean. Your [pc.cunts] begin to moisten at his lewd display, and when he comments simply "You add a wonderful taste." your [pc.cunts] flutter{s} a bit. Your shake your [pc.ass] in an effort to entice your paramour to penetrate you, but he ignores it for now, instead applying more of the medical gel to the pinprick wounds on your hips and ass where he grasped you so tightly. You shiver at the sensation of the cool goop on your derriere, but it warms up almost immediately thanks to Ciaran's hot touch. His hand lingers on your [pc.ass] and [pc.hips] longer than is strictly necessary, but it's not enough to do more than tease you.

You're taken totally off guard when a trio of furred fingers suddenly assaults your cum-dripping box. Two fingers stroke your g-spot rapidly, while a powerful thumb rubs your clit hard enough for the fur covering the digit to slip under your hood to tickle at your [pc.clit]. You moan loudly at the surprise fingering, arching your back and pressing your gravid belly down into the mattress again, forcing a stream of semen out of you. The faux-ejaculation combined with the shocking fingerfuck is enough to make your cum suddenly, squirting for real this time and soaking the fur of Ciaran's hand in your [pc.girlCum] and his own seed. The unexpected orgasm causes your arms and legs to give out under you, and you collapse with your full weight pressing down on your cumflated abdomen. The extra burden combined with your climax does a wonderful job of relieving the pressure in your jam-packed womb. What must be a few gallons of semen gushes out of your cunny over the course of your orgasm, helped along by Ciaran's fingers and the pleasurable feeling of the canine seed flowing out of you extending your orgasm in a feedback loop of ecstasy. By the time you're finished cumming you're a panting mess of [pc.girlCum] and backed-up spunk, and you've thoroughly coated Ciaran's arm in the lewd cocktail of sexual fluids.

The DILF steps away from the bed briefly, and in your lust-addled state you don't have the presence of mind to watch him. He returns momentarily, his arm somehow clean again already, something that's explained when he begins rubbing you down with what at first seems like a simple towel. When the mixture of cum, both male and female, is instantly lifted from your skin wherever the fabric touches, you realize that the cloth is actually a cleverly-disguised surgeon's towel, a high-tech device that uses nano-bots to remove residue from skin, fur, feathers, and scales with equal ease. Ciaran rubs you down from head to toe, leaving your backside spotless. He hefts you up with one arm as if you weighed nothing, and proceeds to clean your frontside with the surgeon's towel before wiping off the bed as well. Once the sheets are mostly free of your combined sexual fluids, he lays the surgeon's towel down on the mattress before cradling you in his arms and positioning you such that your head rests on a comfortable pillow while your still-leaking cunny is positioned over the high-tech towel so that the rest of Ciaran's liquid payload can dribble out of you without pooling under your ass. The older man tucks you in like he would his own {son/daughter}, save for a kiss on the lips. The kiss is surprisingly chaste; you'd be disappointed if you weren't so damn weary, but in your exhausted afterglow it's enough to make you swoon. Your surprise orgasm drained the little bit of energy you had regained, so you simply smile at the ausar DILF as he breaks the kiss and whispers to you "Rest as long you like; I've got an arrangement with the bordello so I can use this room whenever I need to. Get some sleep kiddo, you've earned it."

While it is a struggle, you do manage to keep your eyes open long enough to watch Ciaran redress. When he notices you're still awake and watching he makes a little show out of putting on his ridiculous costume, flexing his muscles unnecessarily, shaking his hips to set his cock swaying from time to time, and bending over with his tail raised to show you his perfect, muscular glutes. When he finally slips on his boots and buckles his belt, he grabs his enormous hat off the rack in the corner before speaking again, his cocky demeanor returned to him now that he's in his usual clothes and had time for his arousal to return to normal. "I'll see you later little {Ms./Mr.} Steele. Sleep tight, and don't let the varmints bite." With a wink and a grin, he walks out the door, closing it behind him. Almost as soon as he's gone you fall asleep dreaming of puppies.

You wake up feeling utterly refreshed and energized; certainly not like you just got fucked until you passed out earlier. Your pussy seems to have finally leaked out the last bit of cream filling and mostly returned to its normal tightness. Your box certainly doesn't ache like you'd expect, and you're not walking bow-legged either. It seems the medicine Ciaran gave you really did the trick. Maybe you should ask one of the Broodmare Bordello's employees where you can buy some of those pills? You're still touched by the tenderness that the ausar DILF showed earlier. His softer side is always a surprise to you, no matter how many times you see it or think about it. It's rare to find someone who can rut you like an animal and then turn around and act like a gentleman! You gather your [pc.gear] and re-equip yourself properly, visions of both the frenzied fuck and the gentle treatment that followed still filling your mind as you exit the room.

While you're walking downstairs to the saloon your eyes catch sight of Ciaran, sitting at his usual table. There are two women, one seated on each side of {ifSilly: the smug doggo //Else: the grizzled hellhound} and conversing with him, both of the women tourists judging by their lack of horns and comparatively modest busts. The ausar looks to be enjoying himself, asking them short, leading questions that guide them into carrying the conversation. He notices you as you walk into the main part of the saloon, flashing you a lascivious wink and a grin before he whispers something into each woman's ear that makes them blush and look at each other before giggling. When the two women stand up, Ciaran surprises them by hoisting them onto his shoulders, both of the much smaller females shrieking and giggling as he carries them upstairs to the room you just left. You shake your head and giggle quietly. You seriously doubt those girls know what they're in for. With a renewed energy you're not quite used to having after a long series of powerful orgasms, you resume your journey, taking a mental note to ask Ciaran for that seat again sometime.

//pass 2 hours, PC should cum 15 times, return to saloon

Heat Sex

//tooltip: "An ausar like Ciaran would be very easy to excite in your current needy state. Bend over and offer him the chance to mate with you."

//grey out if PC not in Heat or Deep Heat with the tooltip "You would probably need to be in heat for this."

//have a vagina, be in heat, obviously, no nagas

With the need to breed eating away at you, your thoughts turn inevitably to the ultra-virile male sitting across from you. In your hormonal state, your attraction is operating on an instinctual level, making a large, powerful man like Ciaran seem sexier than ever before. You know an ordinary ausar would be ready to pounce on a bitch in heat. Your [pc.cunts] moisten{s} when you imagine how a hellhound would react!

You're quickly given a hands-on demonstration when Ciaran begins sniffing the air. In just a few seconds he has pinpointed your scent, and he seems to be deeply affected by it: his face colors, his pupils dilate, and his enormous cock stiffens instantly. The ausar's expression is downright predatory, like a ravenous wolf that has just sighted his favorite prey. Unconsciously, you spread your [pc.legs]{has tail: and lift your [pc.tails] higher} in a show of submissiveness and readiness. In a breathy, needy whisper, the only word that comes out of you is "Please!"

And just like that, your mate is upon you. You stand up and are immediately snared in Ciaran's powerful embrace, his lips finding your own and kissing you hungrily as he rubs his magnificent member on you. Spicy-smelling, pheromonal pre-cum already stains the fabric of his pants where the ausar's tapered cockhead strains to escape. Ciaran's scent consumes your sense of smell: it's an intoxicating cologne of primal masculinity and pure virility that makes your [pc.legs] tremble and [pc.cunts] weep thick flows of [pc.girlCum] in the anguish of emptiness. There's no real foreplay; Ciaran just kisses you as if your mouth is the sweetest thing he's ever tasted while his clawed hands roam your body, groping every inch of you while tearing off your [pc.gear] as if he he bore it a grudge for obstructing him.

When Ciaran separates from you, you whine pitifully, but he holds you at bay, shucking his own clothes in record time. His angry red breeding rod stands to attention, throbbing and leaking blobs of delicious-smelling pre-seed large enough to leave a puddle under Ciaran. When your stud's cock is bared to you you drool from both sets of lips, [pc.girlCum] drenching your [pc.thighs] as you reach a hand out to grab that amazing tool. Before you can grasp your prize however, its owner makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a growl before shoving you down onto the table. You mewl plaintively, but Ciaran's massive, furred hand pins you to the table, the wooden surface rubbing along your [pc.milkyNipples]. Even just that little bit of stimulation is enough to drag a {Treated: loud moo //else: deep moan} from you in your lust-addled state, and you raise your [pc.ass] up higher, presenting like the needy breeding bitch you are.

When it's clear that you've accepted your submissive position, Ciaran lifts his hand and moves behind you, grabbing your [pc.hips] before squatting down to put his face as close to your sopping wet womanhood as possible. He breathes deeply of your fertile scent, his grip tightening when he does so. You mewl pitifully. You can't understand why he's doing this when you're so damn horny already! In desperation, you try to thrust back to grind your dripping muff into the Ciaran's face, but his brawny arms are far stronger than your lust-weakened [pc.legs], and he denies you even this small rebellion. When Ciaran exhales a hot breath across your [pc.clits], you juice yourself in anticipation, your [pc.cunts] leaking [pc.girlCum] and clenching at nothing in a pointless bid to be stuffed with something, anything. You're almost ready to cry before you suddenly feel a hot wetness on your mound.

You {Treated: moo //else: moan} loud and low in pleasure as your canine mate licks from your pubis to your perineum in one slow, forceful drag of his alien tongue. Your puss{y/ies} gush{es} all over the DILF's face from the sudden stimulation, and he greedily laps up all the pheromone-rich [pc.girlCum] you have to give. You nearly shed tears of joy as Ciaran drinks deeply from the [pc.girlCumFlavor] fountain that is your womanhood, his tongue polishing your puss{y/ies} before he wraps his lips around your throbbing pearl and sucks the fleshy bud until you scream and gush into his mouth again.

As Ciaran continues to lick [pc.eachVagina], you can feel a familiar heat building in your belly, and in record time. After just a few short moments of having [pc.eachVagina] lavished with teasing licks and kisses, you find yourself {PC is a squirter: squirting// else: cumming} powerfully. Your [pc.thighs] spasm helplessly and your eyes roll back into your head as you scream your joy to the rafters, instinctively voicing your delight in the most obvious way possible to let everyone know that a proper mate is pleasuring you. When the first drops of your pheromone-rich [pc.girlCumNoun] hit Ciaran's tastebuds, he immediately plunges his alien tongue into your pussy, lapping up your femcum and maximizing your pleasure{multipussy: even as your other slit{s} drench{es} his face and hair in your [pc.girlCum]}.

Your orgasm lasts much longer than usual, but even so, your hellhound mate somehow senses the exact moment your climax is about to wane. He sticks his tongue as deeply into your contracting box as possible and begins frigging your [pc.clits] with his thick fingers, forcing you to cream his tongue all over again and earning another huge gush of fertile-smelling [pc.cumNoun] directly into his thirsty mouth. Your whole body quakes with pleasure as Ciaran munches your muff like it's his purpose in life, the horny male grunting softly as his tongue is futilely milked for cum. {PC is lactating: Your [pc.nipples] join in the fun, spurting thin streams of [pc.milk] onto the table in undeniable lactic joy.}

As incredible as having [pc.eachVagina] enthusiastically eaten out feels, you just can't be satisfied with it. Your instincts demand that you be filled with as much creamy seed as possible, and ausar tongue is no replacement for a thick creampie. Though Ciaran extends your orgasm for as long as possible, you feel no diminution of your arousal. If anything, you feel even hornier than before. Panting heavily, you look back over your shoulder with a smoldering expression. {PC has big butt: You can only see your chosen stud from the forehead up thanks to your more than generous bottom, but // You lock eyes with your chosen stud as he laps up every drop of your fluids he can. His gaze is totally different from normal, like his mind has been replaced with pure instinct and hunger for your sex. You almost cum again just from the sight, but instead} you huskily ask him to mount you, to breed you properly. Your dirty talking quickly devolves into pitiful begging however, your heat making you instinctively submissive. When the DILF still doesn't fill your achingly-empty twat, the last of your self-control breaks down, and you alternate between curses and half-crazed promises of whatever you think he might want.

Finally, with his face soaked in your girly fluids and his brain polluted with your fertile pheromones, Ciaran stands up. He's panting heavily, and when you see his face again you realize why he ate you out before mounting you: after being totally inundated in the scent of your heat, the hellhound is in a state of rut. His cock looks hard enough to punch through {silly mode: Steele //else: steel} right now. Ciaran pulls your [pc.ass] back towards him, angling his tapered, pre-cum soaked tip to wedge open the lips of your pussy before thrusting his red-hot rod into you{if virgin and/or have hymen:, stopping only briefly at your maidenhead before piercing through that thin veil, your desperation to be bred making the loss of your innocence not only painless but exhilarating. The idea of your first time being with a virile stud who wants nothing more than to fill you with his children arouses you in the most primal way imaginable. It just feels so right when the DILF plunges into you} until his hips slam into your own. His meaty balls slap into your [pc.girlCum]-dripping pleasure buzzer, and you instantly scream in pleasure, your voice so loud that it briefly drowns out the clamor of the saloon.

You need no time to adjust to the insertion, and Ciaran doesn't give you any. He immediately begins hammering his hips into your [pc.ass], the force of his thrusts creating a loud clap of flesh on flesh and lurid squelches from your soaking-wet pussy. Each withdrawal of his sinfully-thick cock is accompanied by {1-3 wetness: a few drops //4-5: fat droplets //6-8 wetness: thick ropes //8+ wetness: a thick stream} of [pc.girlCum], as if your womanhood were weeping at the possibility of not being thoroughly inseminated, while each insertion is accompanied by a vulgar wet sound from your lower lips and a joyful sound of ecstasy from your upper ones. {PC is cum-stuffed: Seemingly without conscious effort on his part, Ciaran fucks out as much of the cum already filling you as he can, jealously scraping his cock along every inch of your folds from every angle he can in an animalistic attempt to foil the efforts of your last partner to fertilize you. The feeling of possessiveness from Ciaran and the extra stimulation is almost overwhelming.} You writhe in pleasure, instinctively bucking your [pc.hips] back into your partner to ensure his wonderful cock {PC is cum-filled: and your last hard-earned creampie} stay{s} just where {it/they} belong{s}.

Rational thought has been washed from your mind by hormones, replacing your normal personality with an overwhelming need to breed. You've finally found exactly what you wanted, no, needed: a strong male to hold you down and fuck you pregnant! You've never felt so fulfilled, and your body rewards you for submitting to your instincts with one of the most incredible orgasms you've ever experienced. It takes you completely by surprise; one minute you're delightedly bucking back against the exquisite cock stuffing you, the next you're tensing up every muscle in your body as your pussy goes into overdrive. Your synapses are too preoccupied going off like fireworks for you to so much as whimper. All you can do is gasp and shiver as your cunn{y/ies} {gush{es}/squirt{s} torrents of} [pc.girlCum] all over Ciaran's red rocket as your cock-stuffed cunny tries everything {Treated: the Treatment //else: nature} imbued it with to coax the male stuffing you into seeding your too-empty womb.

You aren't sure if you're disappointed or exhilarated when the spastic clenching of your folds yields only a grunt and a jet of creamy pre-seed from the rutting hellhound, but when when the latest rush of your fertile pheromones reaches Ciaran's sensitive nose, he makes up your mind for you. His dick throbs out more pre and thickens perceptibly as he tightens his grip on your [pc.hips] and begins thrusting even harder into you. The virile ausar jackhammers you hard enough to push your torso up along the table, once more scraping your sensitive [pc.milkyNipples] on the wooden surface {PC lactating:, which combined with the force of his impacts is enough to create a puddle of [pc.milk] under your [pc.chest]} until you finally draw enough of a breath to moan like a whore again.

Each thrust of Ciaran's hips sends him balls-deep into you, causing his tightening sack to stimulate your clitt{y/ies}. His still-growing but already huge knot teases your entrance every time the ausar bottoms out in you, taunting you with the prospect of tying you and making you his until you're pregnant, but never slipping more than a fraction of the way in. Throughout it all his tapered cockhead stimulates your deepest reaches, held back from your womb by his knot but threatening to breach your last line of defense and fill your helpless womanhood with thermal jizz when its owner finally deigns to breed you.

Ciaran sensually slides his hands up your sides to interlock his furred fingers with yours as he leans down over you. {PC shorter than 7'8 if not taur, shorter than 5'8 if taur: His superior size and powerful muscles send shivers of lust up your spine //else: His powerful muscles and sheer virility send shivers of lust up your spine}, your heat-fueled instincts causing you to thrill at the feeling of being dominated by a strong male. You close your eyes and push back into him, unconsciously testing his strength to confirm he's able to pin you down as proof of his worthiness to mate with you. The rutting hellhound is more than a match for your lust-wracked form, and he answers you by bearing his hot weight down on you and growling into your ear, forcing you to totally submit to him. Shuddering submissively, you give yourself over to your mate completely and utterly, overwhelmingly eager to bear his assuredly-strong children.

Ciaran keeps you pinned under him through at least a dozen more breath-taking orgasms, the new angle of penetration stimulating your g-spot enough to make your eyes cross and [pc.eachVagina] weep [pc.girlCumNoun] in joy. He never once slows down, growing hotter and sweatier as his breathing becomes heavier and his dick swells even thicker. You lose track of how many times you've cum or of how long you've been going at this as your sense of time is gradually washed away under a pink haze of endless climaxes and fantasies of being knocked up.

When you feel Ciaran's hot breath on your neck, you think nothing of it until his thrusts reach a crescendo. His red-hot rod has been basting your walls and cervix in slippery pre-cum almost the entire time you've been mating, but now the frequency with which he does so and the increased thickness of the creamy stuff clues you in to what's about to happen. Instinctively, you begin to thrust your hips back into Ciaran as hard as you can, grunting like an animal with the effort of it. Words are beyond your exhausted mind, but you still whimper submissively, signalling your desires to your mate. Ciaran takes this as his cue and begins fucking his immense knot into you. Even your breed-crazed mind initially questions taking such a massive insertion, but the hellhound pinning you down doesn't give you much choice, and the realization that you have no control over him thrills you.

As Ciaran rams his bitch-breaking knot into your mound again and again, he becomes increasingly frustrated. You yelp in shock when he suddenly bites down on your neck. It's not hard enough to break the skin, but the animalistic show of dominance forces your pussy to finally and utterly give in to the insistent thrusts of the male atop you. With a primal groan of raw, masculine pleasure, Ciaran stuffs his knot into you. Your slit squelches loudly and your voice runs away from you in a howl of pleasure as your g-spot is pleasured by the enormous breeding bulb to an almost unbearable degree. The tip of his canine cock kisses your womb, holding it open for the huge creampie to come, exactly as {PC is ausar/half: your //else:the ausar's} biology intended. You feel an overweening sense of pride at being able to handle such an intimidating piece of man meat, even if it does feel like your insides are going to be shaped like Ciaran's dick forevermore.

Your tunnel is so incredibly wet that you first realize Ciaran is cumming in you only from the feeling of his hot quartet of testicles clenching against your hooded clit. Not long after that you feel the incredible, wet heat blossoming in your womanhood. It finally clicks in your head that you're being knocked up, triggering a tidal wave of endorphins in your head and the mother of all orgasms. You babble incoherently, simultaneously trying to beg Ciaran for more, thank him, and plead with him to slow down. Throughout your simultaneous orgasms he makes short, jerky thrusts against your [pc.ass], massaging your cervix into opening a bit wider for his virile load and blasting all thoughts from your mind with the crushing pressure on your G-spot and stimulation of your [pc.clits]. His hands clench your own reassuringly throughout, and his sharp teeth press into your sensitive flesh possessively. More and more scalding alien semen is pumped into your womb, pressurizing you in a matter of seconds. The impossibly-huge knot plugging your pussy ensures that the remaining cum stretches your defenseless womb to a ten months pregnant size, the fertile swell of your belly hanging heavily underneath you.

As your twin orgasms wind down, you sigh in complete and utter fulfillment. Ciaran pulls you{r tauric hindquarters} down into a chair, resting you on his lap with his cock still trickling seed into you. He kisses and sucks your neck and nibbles your [pc.ears] sensually, breathing hot and heavy on you. The DILF spends a while cradling your cream-filled belly, running his clawed hands up and down your [pc.skinFurScales] and massaging your stretched abdominals. {PC is lactating: Your [pc.milkyNipples] dribble their payload down your front, and your affectionate mate delightedly reaches up to milk more out of you, massaging your lactic essence into your [pc.skinFurScales]. Periodically he brings a hand to his mouth to sample your [pc.milk], sometimes offering you the chance to taste yourself as well.} Your eyes grow heavier until you yawn{not a taur: and nuzzle back into Ciaran. He cups your chin and turns your mouth towards him for a smoldering, passionate kiss. It doesn't last long, but it's the perfect bookend to your sexual encounter. //taur:. Ciaran massages and kisses your tauric hindquarters, patting your rump soothingly as you rest your upper half on the table.}

You feel tingly all over, and so wonderfully warm, both inside and out. Like fighting fire with fire, Ciaran's hot cum has put out the hungry flame in your womb, for the moment at least. For the first time in quite a while, you're finally able to relax, and your [pc.eyes] gradually slip shut as Ciaran kisses and cuddles you protectively.

You wake up some time later to find yourself wrapped in a very warm blanket. As you take in your surroundings you realize that Ciaran is nowhere to be found, although your [pc.gear] is piled up on the table in front of you with a note on top.

"Sorry kiddo, but I had to leave while you were still sleeping. I needed to visit the office today, and it was already all I could do not to keep pumping cum into you. {PC Fem. <60: Normally I wouldn't be all that interested in plowing you, but you just smelled too damn good today!} Maybe if I have a few days off in a row sometime, I can breed you properly. Make sure you stay hydrated! If you're still feeling antsy after all that, you're welcome to get a little 'hair of the dog that bit you' when I return. ;)

Stay safe - Ciaran."

There's a thick pool of musky, alien spunk puddled under your [pc.ass], but you still feel stupidly full. Either Ciaran can't have left too recently or he creampied you even more thoroughly than you thought. When a raven-haired waitress notices that you're awake, she brings you a large pitcher of iced tea and one glass. You try to tell her you didn't order anything, but she politely explains, "Don't worry about it darlin'. Warden Eildean paid for it and said I was to make sure you drank it when you woke up. Trust me, honey: you might feel like you've had plenty of fluid put in ya, but you really wanna make sure you don't get too thirsty. Nothin' worse than a cramp when a bull's got your legs on his shoulders."

Thanking the woman for the tea and the advice, you stand up to {PC isn't nude: get dressed again //else: stretch your limbs}. You notice after a moment that the waitress still hasn't left. She smiles coyly. "I was paid to make sure you drank that tea. Warden Eildean left me a very generous 'tip', and I wouldn't want to let him down." {Bimbo, hasn't read Treatment codex: Like, what does she mean by that? You don't think about it for long though. You don't think about anything for long, except maybe sex. //not bimbo, haven't read codex: Well, you can guess what she means by that. This waitress does seem uncharacteristically lucid for a cow though. You're not entirely sure what sets her apart from the other women of New Texas. //else: Well, that "tip" at least explains why this waitress is lucid enough to stick to a job. Ciaran must have gotten her off pretty powerfully, and pretty recently too. That confirms that he only left a short while ago.} You can't help but smile back at the kind woman and drink some of the iced tea. You get the feeling that she isn't just doing this because she was paid to, but that she genuinely cares for your well-being. The stories you've heard about New Texans being some of the friendliest folks out there must have at least some truth to them.

The tea is very sweet, but not overly so. When you swallow the first mouthful, you realize just how thirsty you really are, and quickly drain the glass before pouring yourself another. The ravenette giggles girlishly at your reaction before parting ways with a simple, "Come back now. Ya hear?" You take the time to drink the entire pitcher, feeling refreshed and reenergized once you're done. As you take your first step away from the table, {not taur or goo puddle: with a much more bow-legged gait than before} you wince {not taur: and tenderly massage your aching womanhood}. You're incredibly sore, and still a bit gaped from Ciaran's enormous knot. Even so, you can't help but think about Ciaran's message in the note he left. Could he really fuck you even harder than he just did? Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you resume your journey, hoping the hellhound's seed that is even now filling your womb will take. {Cum Slut, Deep Heat, Treated or high libido: You clench your pussy as tightly as you can, trying to hold in as much of Ciaran's sperm as possible just to be sure.}

//Pass 2 hours, PC should orgasm like 20 times (lol, timeskips), remove Ciaran from saloon for 1 hour and return him

Random scenes

Help Blotto Doggo Home

{placeholder to remind myself}

When you start to walk towards Ciaran's table you notice that the hellhound is already standing next to it rather than reclining in his seat as he usually is. Not only that, he's currently speaking to {PC has met Ms. Kittie: Ms. Kittie, the kaithrit madam //else: an imposing kaithrit woman even taller than he is, wearing an elaborate saloon girl dress}. The two seem to be having a disagreement of some sort, as their body language is tense and their voices are noticeably raised.

"Ciaran, you have got to go home. You are scaring the tourists! James is gonna throw you out if you keep this up! Now we have got a big group coming in at the Bordello shortly. I can't just put you in a room to sleep this off like usual, and I can't spare a girl to take you home." Even as flustered as she obviously is, the kaithrit's voice is still serene and commanding, the only giveaway in her tone being that her New Texas drawl seems to thicken when she emphasizes a word.

When Ciaran responds, his speech is badly slurred, and as you close the distance you can see that his face is scarlet and twisted in a snarl. He's obviously smashed, and he doesn't seem like the happiest drunk. "I told you Kithran, the bottle just slipped cause it was wet! I'm not so drunk that I'd just drop what I was holding! And who cares if I scared a couple of rude out-of-towners away? If a man throw- accidentally dropping a bottle of whiskey spooked them, they'd probably run crying when Sydney went on break!" The inebriated warden slings his arm wide towards the thraggen currently playing piano. Ciaran's wild gesticulation throws him off balance, and he begins to topple over before the woman he has been arguing with catches him, his face landing squarely in her cleavage.

She peers down at Ciaran with a hint of a smile at the edge of her mouth, the ausar now gently motorboating the kaithrit's magnificent HH-cup breasts and bringing his hands around to grab and knead her equally breath-taking derriere. Kithran softly chides Ciaran in a weary but affectionate murr, "I told you to call me Ms. Kittie when I'm on the job you old mutt." The kaithrit matron sounds more like she's scolding a child than a giant middle-aged man. She allows him to fondle her though, even going so far as to scratch behind his ears and rub his back while he presses his face into her chest and squeezes her plush bottom. When you finally arrive at the table, you can actually hear Kithran purring, a low, deep sound, nearly inaudible over the clamor of the saloon. Once she notices you, her eyes light up, but she lifts a gloved finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Kithran continues to purr, the sound obviously soothing Ciaran if his wagging tail is any indication.

She gestures to Ciaran, you, and the exit while mouthing the question "Can you take him?" Her expression is hopeful, but the hellhound in her embrace hasn't noticed you yet. Sure he's calm now, but he seemed pretty belligerent just a moment ago. Kithran, or Ms. Kittie, seems to have more than just a professional relationship with Ciaran if she can influence him like this. Would you really be able to shepherd the DILF home if she weren't around?

[Yes] It's clear Ciaran's in as much of a bind as Ms. Kittie is. The hellhound needs help from someone, and you may well be the only one available to assist him. Plus, visiting his home would be a great opportunity to learn something about his past.

[No] Ms. Kittie obviously has this under control. There's no need for you to trouble yourself, right?

[Yes]

You nod your head yes, and Ms. Kittie smiles with relief and mouths "Thank you" before speaking to Ciaran. "Look pup! Your little friend the Steele [pc.boyGirl] is here. I'm gonna call a Moober for you two and [pc.heShe] is gonna take you home, okay?" She then pulls away from Ciaran and pulls out a pocket codex to charter the promised ride.

Ciaran groans as the woman separates from him, but when he turns and sees you he smiles dazedly. He immediately tries to convince you of his innocence with an angry, slurred rant. "Hey kiddo! Can you believe they think I need to go home? I just uh, 'dropped' a bottle next to some tourists who were yelling at one of the whores, and now James and Kith-uuhh Ms. Kittie say I need to leave. It's total bullshit, right?"

As you listen to Ciaran, you wrap an arm around his waist and begin guiding him to the exit. {Nice/peace of mind: You nod your head sympathetically, but diplomatically avoid answering the belligerent hellhound. //Bimbo: You don't know why anyone would get angry when they could just get laid instead, but you know just how to soothe a raging bull. You nod you head sympathetically and none-too-subtly stroke your hand lightly over Ciaran's package as you look into his eyes. He quickly relaxes and stares back at you, but you don't take it any further for the moment. //Brute: You agree wholeheartedly with your bro, but you assure him those dudes aren't worth it, and that the two of you will keep the party going at his place. //Mischievous: You nod your head and grin, sarcastically agreeing with Ciaran that there's just no justice anymore. //Hard: You roll your eyes as you nod your head, holding your tongue through the hellhound's annoying, drunken rambling.} By the time you reach the exit Ciaran has calmed down considerably. There's a hover-car outside with a cow-print paintjob. The drone pilot beckons you with its robotic arm. Before you make it off the saloon's porch though, Ms. Kittie rushes out to meet you two, her enormous breasts bouncing enticingly from the motion of jogging. Ciaran's eyes are glued to the miraculously perky mammaries, but when he reaches out to grope them, Ms. Kittie clasps his hand in both of her own before speaking in a low voice. "You know full well I could've handled that, Ciaran, and I've told you to leave ornery customers to me. It's my job after all! Still, that was a really sweet thing you did, sticking up for my girl like that." The MILFy madam smiles sweetly and squeezes the DILF's furred hand before leaning in to kiss his scarred cheek. Her soft lips leave a lipstick mark across Ciaran's facial scars, and though he was already fairly flushed from the alcohol, you can still tell that he's blushing. "Thank you, Ciaran. Stay safe."

The intoxicated DILF smiles like the biggest idiot you've ever seen, obviously delighted. "Hell, Kithran, it was nothing. I'm always ready to lend a hand." You feel his tail batting into you as it wags quite fiercely.

Kithran smiles at you as well, speaking with Ciaran's hand still clasped in her own. "Thank you for making sure this old hound dog gets home in one piece. He's drunk as a skunk, and liable to get into a heap of trouble if somebody doesn't put him to bed."

"Hey, I can hear what you're saying, you know!" pouts Ciaran, furrowing his brow.

Kithran huffs and mock-slaps the back of the ausar's furred hand before releasing it, chastising him in a good-natured manner. "Oh, so you could hear that, but you couldn't hear me earlier telling you to go home? You should be glad little {mister/miss} Steele dropped by when he [pc.heShe] did, or I would've slapped a leash on you and tied you to a post." Ciaran's ears flatten, and he grumbles under his breath, but the kaithrit woman just laughs coquettishly and pinches his other cheek. "I'm grateful to have such a fierce guard dog as you Ciaran. And {mister/miss} Steele," she leans in and kisses your forehead demurely, "thank you again. I paid round trip for the Moober, so it'll bring you back here when you're ready. Stop by the Broodmare sometime and I'll show you my gratitude. That goes for you too, Muffin." Kithran husks the last few words as she squeezes Ciaran's bulge through his pants before blowing him a kiss and spinning on a heel, vanishing through the saloon doors with her huge butt distractingly-framed by her feline tails.

You usher Ciaran into the hover-car. The hellhound seems fairly placid now, which you suppose must mean he's getting close to passing out. It doesn't take long for your taxi to reach Ciaran's house, and you help the towering drunk out of the car. You take a moment to survey the exterior of Ciaran's home. It's a one-story ranch-style house in the native architectural style. There's a front porch, and you can see what looks like a pet door built into the front door of the house. While you're still looking, Ciaran fumbles in his pockets for the keys before finding them. "C'mon inside a minute kiddo." He gestures for you to follow him.

You had intended to see him inside anyway, so you accept the offer and enter the older man's home. Ciaran closes the door behind you and stumbles into the nearby kitchen. He calls out from the other room "Make yourself at home, kid. I'll just be a minute." You meander into the living room. The interior the home seems to be mostly wood, a rich mahogany that accentuates the rustic decor. You can certainly tell this is the home of an unmarried man, but it's not a total wreck like so many bachelor pads. While the place is definitely disheveled, there seems to be a sense of order to the mess, and everything seems very clean, even if not very tidy. There are clothes scattered across the couch, which along with all the other furniture, is sized for someone of Ciaran's proportions. On the walls are various hunting trophies, along with a few antique firearms from various cultures and time periods{PC is bookworm:, though nothing particularly impressive}. Everything is well-dusted and maintained, but there's a pair of lacy pink tie-on panties hanging off the antlers of a mounted deer head. {PC has met Annebelle: You're pretty sure those belong to Annebelle.}

You notice a scratching post for a cat next to the stone fireplace{Silly mode AND met Ms.Kittie:, probably for when Ms. Kittie gets too antsy}. Above the fireplace the mantle is decorated with shadow boxes containing various ausar military medals, challenge coins from several ships, {PC has Inexorable Challenge Coin: including the Inexorable,} and several photographs. Almost all of the pictures are of a girl with lavender hair and fur, two fluffy tails, and golden eyes: she's an ausar/kaithrit hybrid. There are pictures of her at several different ages being held by or posing with a smiling ausar man with black hair and fur streaked with white. Every photograph depicts the girl winning some sort of academic or athletic award, and the man looking very proud of her. When you see the most recent photo, you realize the man is Ciaran before taking the Treatment. He apparently had no horns and was much shorter and less muscular, though still powerfully-built for an ausar, and with the same tattered ear. Could that mean the girl with him is his daughter?

Before you can ponder it further you hear Ciaran walking into the room. When you turn to face him you notice he's bare from the waist up. His sculpted torso is covered in a multitude of scars of various sizes, shapes, and origins. He flops his hand at you lazily as he pulls off his belt and mutters, "Stand down, marine. I'm going to sleep." Ciaran kicks off his boots before he topples face-first onto the couch, passing out almost immediately. You stand there awkwardly for a moment before shrugging to yourself. It doesn't seem the most comfortable place to sleep, but you suppose he at least won't choke in his sleep.

You let yourself out and climb into the hover-car. On the ride back to the saloon and for a while after you step out of the taxi you consider Ciaran's home. You regret not having the chance to ask him about any of what you saw, but you know you'll have the opportunity the next time you see the rugged ex-marine. You walk back into the saloon, ready to resume your journey.

//pass 30 minutes, remove Ciaran and Ms. Kittie from saloon for 8 hours before returning them, unlock talk options "His Past" and "His Scars".

[No]

You raise your hands and shake your head vigorously as you back away quietly. This little fiasco isn't your problem.

Ms. Kittie glares at you for just a moment with a sour expression, but she quickly returns to her usual professional demeanor. As you are leaving you can hear her speaking to Ciaran in a soothing tone. "C'mon Muffin, let's see if that little Annebelle girl can get off work early to help you home." Ciaran groans in disappointment as the woman holding him pries his hands off of her wonderful posterior. Ms. Kittie leads him off by the hand, interlocking her fingers with his {silly mode: in the most depraved, repulsive act you've ever seen //else: to keep his hands off her}. The hellhound's attention is totally focused on the beautiful kaithrit matron, allowing you to slip away unnoticed.

//pass 3 minutes, +1 hard point, cap gain wherever you think appropriate, remove Ciaran and Kithran from saloon for 8 hours before returning them

"Mr. Eildean"

//10% to trigger this scene each time you approach Ciaran after meeting him, 3 day cooldown, only triggers if Annebelle is in saloon.

Before you can make your way over to where Ciaran is seated, {PC has not met Annebelle: an unfamiliar but noticeably pregnant cow in a waitress's uniform //else: Annebelle the waitress} approaches his table, looking nervous. As you move into earshot you hear {Not met Annebelle: the young waitress //else: Annebelle} bashfully mumble "U-um... Mr. Eildean? It happened again..."

When he hears her words Ciaran tilts his hat back and takes his feet off the table, speaking in a tone of feigned exasperation. "Really, Annebelle? You lost them again? What am I gonna do with you, girl?" Annebelle says nothing in response, simply blushing deeply and turning her head away from Ciaran as she rubs her plush, dripping-wet thighs together. Ciaran chuckles richly. "Well I've got an extra pair, but they won't do you any good like that. C'mon kiddo, let's get you cleaned up first." The comparatively small cow nods meekly, which Ciaran takes as a signal to stand up from his seat. He hikes up the young waitress's miniskirt and carefully seats her on the edge of the table, spreading her shapely legs and revealing her flushed and very wet pussy to the entire room. Ciaran sinks to his knees and leans in close to Annebelle's mound before he inhales deeply, closing his eyes and obviously relishing the smell; his tail begins wagging rapidly as he savors the girl's feminine scent. Annebelle seems mortified at Ciaran's behavior, but at the same time, you notice a puddle of her lady lube beginning to form under her squishy butt.

With the young waitress's entire body now flushed crimson in embarrassment, Ciaran pulls his head back from Annebelle's pretty little pussy and instead begins lapping at her thighs, trailing his broad, flat tongue along her sensitive flesh to collect as much of her moisture as possible. The young cow's reaction is both immediate and priceless. "{Silly mode:MMOOO-ster //else: Mr.} Eildean! W-what are you doing?" She shudders in pleasure at the handsome older man's teasing licks, two wet spots quickly forming on her uniform's top.

Taking a moment to swipe his talented tongue over his lips before answering, Ciaran looks up at Annebelle and answers roguishly, "What does it look like you {silly mode: foxy little Moo-moo //else: silly little girl}? I'm cleaning you up!" With that, he redoubles his efforts on the cow's thick thighs, alternating his touches between long licks and little laps at her cunny honey. Occasionally you can hear Ciaran whisper a quiet, short compliment or tease to Annebelle, such as "You're delicious," "I love your taste," or "Naughty girl." Each time he does there's another little gush from Annebelle, accompanied by a stifled moan or a quiet moo.

In no time flat, there's a puddle of cunt liquor pooling under Annebelle's delicious thighs and juicy booty and threatening to run off the table. When it begins to drip onto the floor, the teasing hellhound stands up again, wiping his drenched face with his hand and licking his fingers clean. Annebelle groans softly in unfulfilled arousal, prompting Ciaran to speak with a lewd grin on his face. "This is getting out of hand, kiddo. I think it'll take some serious work to get you presentable again." The DILF removes his hat and bandana, placing the latter in his pocket before placing the former on Annebelle. The huge cowboy hat is entirely too large for the young cow. The only thing keeping it from falling down over her eyes is the presence of her two small bovine horns. "Keep it dry for me, Belle."

Ciaran winks at the blushing waitress and gives her pregnant belly a gentle rub before he lays his poncho over a chair and lies down on the table face-up. He's still grinning as he explains himself to a confused Annebelle. "Given your little baby bump I think this position ought to be the most comfortable for you." She stares over her shoulder at the older man, her mouth open in surprise. When she still doesn't move, Ciaran barks a command at her. "What are you waiting for? C'mon, ride 'em cowgirl!" That snaps her back to her senses. Annebelle gingerly pivots on the table and begins crawling on her hands and knees. The weight of her middle causes her to arch her back, thrusting her shapely ass into the air, that perfect posterior cutely accented by the dainty cow tail swishing nervously above it. From your current position you are looking directly at the cowgirl's horny and swollen puss. That sweltering tunnel leaks a constant stream of Annebelle's liquid lust to run off of her throbbing, gumball-sized clit; periodically her juicy box gushes out a little extra girl lube as it clenches around the cock it wishes was filling it.

The young waitress makes her way up to Ciaran, and with his powerful arms to guide her she swings a leg over the much larger man's head to plant her sopping muff less than an inch from his face. As you move closer for a better view you can see that Ciaran's face is already coated in Annebelle's cunny honey, her pussy winking at the virile man below her in an instinctive effort to tempt him into penetrating her. The DILF resists the temptation for now, opting instead to lick around Annebelle's smooth, hairless mound, lapping up her sexual fluids and causing even more to rain down to drench his face. The moment his canine tongue makes contact with Annebelle's vulva, she emits a loud MOOOO! and reflexively arches her back in pleasure. The sudden change in posture combined with her gravid midsection causes Annebelle to lose her balance, but as soon as she begins to tip backwards Ciaran's furred hands grasp the smaller girl protectively, steadying her even as he continues to drink her liquid ardor. The rugged ausar shouldn't be able to see anything with his face buried in delightfully soft, nubile cowflesh, yet he knew just when he would need to brace Annebelle; Ciaran must have a great deal of experience doing this with the horny waitress to be able to sense when she has shifted her weight enough to need help.

On Annebelle's part there's barely any acknowledgement that she nearly toppled over a moment ago. The curvy cowgirl has her eyes closed with one hand grasping onto one of Ciaran's horns and the other resting atop the hand Ciaran is using to clutch her hip. As the scent of her feminine arousal fills the air, so too do her pheromones. She seems oblivious to the effect her scent is having on the hellhound beneath her; with her eyes shut and her body turned the opposite direction, Annebelle can't see the massive erection threatening to burst through the crotch of Ciaran's pants. If the cloth-straining red rocket is bothering Ciaran, he doesn't show it. The horny DILF seems to be completely focused on licking up as much of Annebelle's fragrant liquid as possible. The only hint that he is being mentally affected by the young cow's pheromones is that his licks to Annabelle's muff are increasing in speed and intensity. The constant teasing leaves Annebelle whining in arousal and frustration, Ciaran's tongue so close to her pussy yet tantalizingly avoiding it.

Eventually the young cow's aphrodisiac pheromones overwhelm the ausar's restraint. With no warning he suddenly plunges his tongue as deep into Annebelle's sodden box as possible, his nose rubbing her extra-large clitty and his facial hair rubbing at her labia while his oral muscle goes wild inside her. The unsuspecting cowgirl's eyes go wide, and she moans the loudest MOOOO of pleasure you've yet heard from her as her pussy spasms wildly and gushes a torrent femspunk all over Ciaran's head. He simply opens his mouth wide to drink as much as he can while everything from his scalp to his neck is drenched in Annebelle's sweet-smelling nectar. The still-cumming cowgirl bucks her hips feverishly, grinding her pussy into Ciaran's rugged face even as he tongues her tunnel mercilessly and drinks down her orgasmic fluids.

The wet spots on the waitress's top grow larger and darker until her milk begins to leak through the fabric, dripping down her shirt to roll over the swell of her baby bump. When some of her lactic excess drips down onto Ciaran he moves the hand Annebelle isn't holding onto up to her breasts and yanks her top down before squeezing her massive boobs repeatedly, earning a moo with each squish of titflesh and jets of milk from both nipples that actually arc through the air to land on the floor. Just as Annebelle's orgasm begins to wind down, Ciaran suddenly begins sucking on and licking the young cow's throbbing pleasure buzzer. It only takes a few seconds of this treatment to make Annebelle cream herself all over again, mooing and moaning even louder than before from sheer sensitivity, her hands joining Ciaran's in squeezing and kneading the milk out of her bountiful melons. The hellhound is deluged once again in Annebelle's cunt liquor, and he returns his tongue to her dripping box to consume as much of her carnal moisture as possible while maximizing the pleasure and duration of her climax.

The ausar DILF and the young cow fall into a rhythm: like clockwork, each time Annebelle finishes an orgasm, Ciaran immediately returns to masterfully pleasuring the girl's gumball-sized clit, leaving her helpless but to cum again, at which point Ciaran hungrily eats her out and forcefully milks her breasts. Annebelle gradually shifts from grabbing Ciaran's horns and pulling him harder into her muff to holding onto his muscular arms to avoid tipping over as the endless tide of pleasure gradually robs her of muscle control, moaning and mooing in ecstasy so loudly and frequently that she begins to lose her voice. With each spectacular climax, the volume of her ejaculate diminishes until finally it is little more than a trickle. By that point Annebelle is totally blissed-out, whimpering softly each time her frame is wracked by orgasmic contractions, only staying vertical thanks to Ciaran's protective grip on her body.

Finally removing his flat tongue from her pussy, Ciaran returns to how he began this whole affair: licking all of the fragrant cunny honey off of Annebelle's mound and thighs, causing the cowgirl to moan softly at the delicate touches of the older man beneath her. Once Ciaran has licked off all the girlcum he can find, he gently moves the practically-boneless, zoned-out young waitress atop him into a supine pose next to him, being mindful of her swollen belly as he does so. Ciaran takes his cowboy hat back from Annebelle and clambers off the table to reach into his pocket, retrieving his bandana. He spreads Annebelle's twitching legs and begins wiping off her plush thighs, spasming mound, and squishy butt. When he finishes drying the comparatively small cow, he drapes the lady lube-soaked bandana over a chair and reaches into a back pocket. A moment later Ciaran produces what is in his enormous hands a tiny piece of pink cloth.

As he unfurls it you realize what the item really is: a pair of transparent, lacy, pink tie-on panties. Ciaran gently lifts Annebelle's butt off the table and proceeds to dress her in the risque little undergarment. You're impressed to see that in spite of his large size, Ciaran is extremely dextrous; he quickly ties the panties on the waitress, but rather than tying a simple bow, he uses a sophisticated sailor's knot to secure the lacy little panties. He tucks the young waitress's breasts back into her tube top, then tenderly rubs Annebelle's gravid midriff to rouse her back to full consciousness as he coos to her so softly you can barely hear. "There we go kiddo. That ought to keep those panties on until your shift is over. Now you're clean and dressed again and ready for work."

Annebelle gazes blissfully at Ciaran, nothing but fondness for him in her eyes. She giggles girlishly as he picks her up off the table, enjoying being hoisted around with no apparent effort on the hellhound's part. He sets the waitress down slowly, buttressing her with a warm embrace until she can stand on her nerveless legs again. When she's able to support herself once more, Ciaran fixes her skirt for her before rubbing his head with his hands, gathering up as much of Annebelle's femspunk as he can and licking it off his furred digits while the young girl gazes up at him dopily, still deep in her afterglow. In a blissed-out tone, she asks him with a cheeky grin, "How did I taste, Mr. Eildean?"

The DILF doesn't skip a beat, immediately responding "Like this," and leaning down to lock lips with Annebelle. She swoons instantly, forcing Ciaran to support her weight again to prevent her falling down, which he does quite easily. The two of them french passionately for the better part of a minute, the older man letting the younger girl enjoy a mouthful of her own femcum, something Annebelle accepts quite happily. Her already dopey expression turns positively ecstatic as she forgets about the rest of the world and simply relishes the feeling of being swept up in the passions of a more experienced and dominant partner.

When the two of them break their kiss, their lips stay connected briefly by a strand of mixed saliva and femcum, the little strand as reluctant to break apart as Annebelle is to break from Ciaran. She stands there staring at him adoringly, her bovine tail swishing gaily as she watches the older man don his poncho and tie the now Annebelle-scented bandana around his neck again. The cowgirl rubs her thick thighs together as she stares, her soft skin already wet again with her lubricant. When Ciaran notices this he just laughs exasperatedly. "What am I gonna do with you, kiddo? You've got a job to get back to, and I'm gonna smell like you for the rest of the day!" He leans down briefly, placing a chaste peck on Annebelle's forehead before shocking her out of her stupor with a smack to her cushy ass. Annebelle yelps and scuttles away from Ciaran, who chuckles richly. "I'll see you later kiddo. I need to check in at work for a while." The warden places his cowboy hat on his head again, concealing the bulk of his girljizz-plastered hair, though certainly not the smell of Annebelle, nor the massive erection he still sports. He gives you a brief greeting as he walks past you. "Hey kid. See you later."

Looks like you won't be talking to Ciaran for now, but with the show he just provided, can you really complain?

//pass 30 minutes, add a ton of lust, if conversation topic [Annebelle] not unlocked yet, unlock it.

Father/Daughter Time

//This scene by Altair Hayes

Before you can head over to Ciaran, {a silver haired cow/Annebelle} runs up to him and gives him a hug, from seemingly out of nowhere.

"Whoa, calm down there Annebelle," chuckles Ciaran as he strokes her head. He falls back into his chair as he pulls her onto his lap. "What's gotten into you?"

Annebelle just smiles and hugs him, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, her breasts pressed up against the ausar's body. She looks up at him and gives him a peck on the cheek. "What? I just wanted to hug you."

"With where your hand is, I'm thinking you want more than just a hug," the ausar says with raised eyebrows as he shakes his head. "Were you trying to sneak a fuck in? C'mon, you don't have time to goof off. Get your butt out there."

Annebelle just giggles. "I'm on break."

"And you chose to spend it with me?"

"Yep! It's really fun spending time with you, Daddy-" Annebelle's eyes grow wide as her face turns beet red. "I-I mean M-Mr. Eildean. I ha-have to go get back to work."

"Alright baby girl, have fun," the ausar says as he gently pushes her off, a smirk plastered on his face. "You can come back to 'Daddy' after your shift ends, alright?"

She doesn't respond to him, instead turning her reddened face to the floor and quickly making her way into the kitchen. She's so embarrassed that she doesn't notice that her panties are now in the hands of Ciaran, who takes in a deep breath of her feminine scent. When Annebelle walks back from the kitchen, she finds herself garnering a lot of attention from the bulls who happen to look under her skirt.

Before she can even ask for her underwear back, she has to deal with a bull sticking his nose -and tongue- in between her legs. A series of moans, moos, and grunts lead to shaky legs and one particularly satisfied bull. Before another customer can 'convince' Annebelle to sit on their face, she makes her way to Ciaran, power walking with intent. However, this only makes her ass bounce enticingly and her skirt hike up further, drawing the gaze of many horny bulls.

"Mr. Eildean!" Annebelle says right in front of him, her voice oddly commanding, in a cute, nonthreatening sort of way. "May I have my panties back?"

Ciaran holds up a finger as he takes one more breath of her cunny-scented panties. As he exhales he hands it back to her, but not before quickly ducking under her skirt and taking a whiff of her femininity straight from the source. "Of course, darling. You smell like a real woman down there. This nose just needed a couple more sniffs to be satisfied, and your panties did just the trick. They're yours to have. I just wanted you to spend a bit more time with me. What better way than to make you have to come back?" Ciaran places his hand on her supple thigh. "Besides, you're still on break. Not like you have enough time for a dicking. But I'd still rather you stay with me."

Annebelle, her face now hidden in the crook of his arm, giggles a bit. Her grin is impossible to hide, though. For the next few minutes, she sits on her "Daddy's" lap as he strokes her inner thighs. From what he's whispering into her ear, she has quite a lot going on tonight.

Despite her leaving hornier than when she arrived, Annebelle has a new pep in her step. It seems like she needed Ciaran to recharge. The silver-haired cow happily skips back to the kitchen, ready to head back out and take plenty of cocks and orders.

"She's got her work cut out for her," chuckles Ciaran, sipping his beer before turning to you. "Anyway, kid, what's on your mind?"

//Pass 5 minutes

It's not sexual harassment if it's wanted ;^)

When you arrive at Ciaran's table, the ausar is just standing up from his seat. He welcomes you with a jovial wave and a typically brief greeting of, "Hey there, kid." After you return his greeting he begins stretching his arms, speaking in a slightly strained tone, "Tell me about your day." {Bimbo: The idea that Ciaran might be asking you this as entertainment while he stretches his limbs never even crosses your minds. You're just thrilled to actually have a hot guy ask you to talk about yourself, so you immediately begin bubbling with delight and going over every inane, vapid detail of the last few hours. It's pretty hard to concentrate on talking though. This DILF in front of you just keeps, like, flexing his muscles really hard, and it's like so hot. //else: It does seem a bit unfair to you to have to carry the conversation alone, but you so rarely have the chance to just tell someone who cares all about the minutiae of your day. No detail seems too mundane or esoteric for the DILF, who nods his head or asks a short, leading question periodically to show he's paying attention.}

While you're still talking, {PC has met Ms. Kittie: Ms. Kittie //else: a massively tall and gorgeously mature kaithrit woman} somehow sneaks up behind Ciaran. She grins mischievously, her copper tails flicking excitedly as she makes a "shh" gesture to you, indicating for you not to alert Ciaran. When he bends over to touch his toes, the kaithrit MILF grabs the ausar's slowly-wagging tail in one hand while groping his muscular bottom with the other. Ciaran makes a confused sound before looking back over his shoulder. When he makes eye contact with his feline groper, he gasps out, "Kithran!"

As soon as the word is out of his mouth, he gasps again as Kithran pinches his butt. She grins coquettishly before teasing her victim in a smoky voice, "Uh uh uh. I told you, call me Ms. Kittie while I'm at work. While we're here, I'm Ms. Kittie, and you're Mr. M-"

Her words are interrupted by Ciaran bolting upright again and hastily cutting her off. "Oh c'mon Kithran- uh, Ms. Kittie. You know I just slip up sometimes. There's nothing to get bent out of shape about." Once he's finished speaking though, the ausar grunts in surprised pleasure as Ms. Kittie grabs his {silly mode: OwO //else: bulge} and begins squeezing. She cups his manhood in her gloved hand, hefting Ciaran's oversized testicles with her palm before tracing his now quite hard penis with her velvet-swathed claws. Her other hand continues feeling up his muscled bottom while her tails stroke him from time to time, touching his arms and legs, his face, and sometimes even his own slowly-wagging tail.

Ms. Kittie looks up from Ciaran's groin while still fondling him. She smirks impishly as she scolds him, "No sirree Mr. Muffin Face! I know your daddy raised you better than to interrupt a lady when she's talking. If you're gonna be a bad dog," the kaithrit MILF leans in to the ausar's notched ear and breathily purrs, "then I'll just have to teach you some obedience." She punctuates her statement with a tight squeeze of both hands, eliciting another grunt from Ciaran. The normally-dominant DILF seems to be totally spellbound by Ms. Kittie; not just her touch but her words as well. When her black-gloved hand slips down the waistband of Ciaran's pants, he groans and almost doubles over. Judging from the large stain of sticky wetness now blossoming on the crotch of Ciaran's pants, she is giving him one hell of a handjob. When Ciaran tries to grab her magnificent breasts to occupy his own hands however, he yelps in pain, his fluffy tail immediately tucking between his legs. Ms. Kittie speaks to him as if she were explaining something to a very young and very naughty child, "This is a punishment, not a reward. If you're gonna interrupt me because you can't keep your words to yourself, then you're gonna have to keep your hands to yourself too."

Ciaran leans his head back and groans in frustration, balling his hands into fists in an effort to control his instincts. Once he masters himself, Ms. Kittie smiles lustily and coos, "Good boy!" before patting the hellhound's head with the hand not currently masurbating him. {Low libido and not bimbo/bro: You're blushing furiously at the raunchy scene before you, but before you can excuse yourself //high libido or bimbo/bro: The raunchy scene before you is tantalizing. It's like a scene from a high-grade porno, but it's happening right in front of you! Before you can start recording the view}, Ms. Kittie makes eye contact with you out of the corner of her eye. The madam grins like a Cheshire cat as she milks another spurt of precum from her victim, the air now beginning to take on a spicy, richly-masculine scent. She continues facing Ciaran even as she speaks to you. "I know Terrans say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I say that's nonsense. Mr. Muffin Face here's proof of that! He showed up here a few years ago, not an obedient bone in his body. Except maybe this one!" The kaithrit laughs imperially and begins jerking off Ciaran in earnest, the motions of her arm setting her enormous breasts jiggling and bouncing hypnotically as she turns her head in your direction.

"I don't know if you're aware of this, young {man/lady}, but the Treatment doesn't work on ausar the way it does on most folks." When Ciaran groans loudly in pleasure, Ms. Kittie furrows her brow and frowns slightly before stroking his cheek with her free hand as she scolds him, "Shush that noise, you old hound dog! I told you not to interrupt me." Her tone is scornful, but her mien is puckish. Even so, the order is clear, so the canid lawman whines one last time before he grits his teeth to silence himself. His obedience is immediately tested when Ms. Kittie intensifies her tugjob, milking Ciaran's thick, red dick with the sort of skill only the Treatment combined with decades of experience can impart. {Has a dick AND: Bro/Bimbo or High libido or high exhibitionism: You're starting to feel kind of jealous of Ciaran!} Still, he soldiers on, his whole body tensing up under the exertion of stifling himself as more and more musky pre-seed is artfully milked from his fat cock. Ms. Kittie is obviously pleased with her oversized "hound dog's" self-control. Her breath is coming faster, and even under the generous amount of rouge she's wearing, you can tell her cheeks are blushing darkly. The kaithrit MILF rewards Ciaran's obedience by scratching his ears and the base of his horns while cooing excitedly, "Oh, I just knew you were a good boy! Yes, I knew you could act right for me!" The ausar shuts his eyes and blushes in shame, but his tail begins wagging fast enough to audibly displace air as it swishes in primal joy.

Ms. Kittie continues where she left off, smiling lustily the whole time. "As I was saying, ausar who take the Treatment turn into what we call hellhounds, on account of how big and scary and ill-mannered they are. No matter how sweet a little pup they were before, it just makes them run around like they own the place. It was the same with Mr. Muffin Face here at first, but you can see how much he's improved now." Ms. Kittie bears down on a particular spot on Ciaran's scalp, and remarkably, he begins kicking his leg like a real dog, literally panting in pleasure and effort as he does so. The kaithrit woman toying with him continues to purr sultry praises to him as she does so. After a few moments, she returns to explaining, "You know how he got this silly little nickname? For the last few years, he has come to this saloon almost every single day, and just about every time he does, one way or another, he ends up eating my pussy out. And I mean eating it! He munches my box like a starved-down wolf and laps up my ladycum like a dog dying of thirst. Even when I'm pregnant! Hell, especially when I'm pregnant..."

The MILF's own words seem to be exciting her. You notice now that there are thick rivulets of cunny honey trickling down her curvaceous thighs, and the scent of Ciaran's spicy precum is now starting to be overpowered by the tangy scent of Ms. Kittie's arousal. When she increases the pace of her handjob to match her own excitement, the vigorous motions and her horny state cause her swollen nipples to begin leaking milk to wet her top, and her speech grows increasingly breathy. "And if for some reason he ever can't lick my slit, he ends up lapping away at one of my girls or one of the waitresses. I'm the only one that's a match for his appetite though, so he's almost never satisfied with that. He spends as much time working his actual job as he does with someone's muff in his face. So, that's why I started calling him 'mister muff-in-face' whenever he doesn't call me by my working name: that's his working name. I don't know why he acts embarrassed about it though. He loves every second he spends with his head between my thighs."

By the end of her story, Ms. Kittie's arm is a blur, and Ciaran is panting and writhing in pleasure. He bucks his hips helplessly as his dick is mercilessly milked in the velvet grip of his kaithrit paramour. With Ciaran's eyes still shut, Ms. Kittie winks at you again before leaning in to the ausar's jackal-like ear. "You've been a good boy for me. Oh, I can feel how big your knot is now. Are you gonna cum for me?"

Ciaran nods yes, and the kaithrit madam begins purring in response. Her tails swish excitedly as she asks in a voice like molten sex, "Are you gonna blow a huge load in your pants for me? Just absolutely coat that long, fat cock and those big, manly balls of yours in your own hot, musky cum? Are you gonna take off those dirty, dirty pants and let me lick every drop of your delicious seed off of your huge knot while it's still swollen and sensitive?" The DILF nods feverishly.

"No you're not." Ms. Kittie smiles innocently and stops masturbating Ciaran. He shouts in dismay, but she cuts him off by placing a finger on his lips. "Did you forget this was a punishment? Remember this next time you want to act up in front of others." The kaithrit removes her other hand from his pants. When she notices how much creamy precum is coating her glove, her eyes light up. You and Ciaran both watch, spellbound, as the beautiful MILF spends the next minute purring loudly and licking all the musky pre-seed off of her hand. It's obvious she's making a show of it to further tease her canine victim, but it's definitely having an effect on you too. Ciaran's throbbing cock is ready to rip a hole in his pants by the end of Ms. Kittie's little show, and for her part her pussy has leaked a large puddle of fragrant lady lube. However, she acts like this is the most ordinary thing in the world as she adjusts her milk-soaked top. Then without warning she pulls Ciaran into a deep and passionate kiss, letting him taste himself on her tongue. When the kiss breaks, Ciaran's tucked tail is wagging again, and his lips are stained with the madam's lipstick. Ms. Kittie politely bids farewell to you before departing for the bordello. She calls out while she's still close, "See you soon, Mr. Muffin Face!"

After standing there dumbfounded for a few moments, Ciaran shouts loud enough to draw the attention of half the saloon, "FUCK! The things that woman does to me! She knows I can't stand being treated like that in public! I'm gonna go give her a piece of my mind right now! See you later, kid."

You say your own farewell to Ciaran and watch him storm off after his tormentor, which you're pretty sure is exactly what she wanted him to do. Seeing someone as aggressive and dominant as Ciaran made so submissive so easily makes you wonder what Ms. Kittie could do to you. You couldn't help but notice a few other things as well, like the fact that Ciaran said "in public" specifically, or that they're are on a first name basis with each other. The two of them also kiss with far more passion than you'd expect in a normal client-customer transaction. You can only wonder how far their relationship goes beyond just madam and john.

//pass 20 minutes, add a bunch of lust, remove Ciaran and Kithran from the saloon for 4 hours and then put them back