Archive of Our Own ^beta

Aria opened the door to her home, a nondescript suburban single-family house with chipped paint, dull beige siding, and a creaky, rust-stained mailbox that leaned slightly to the right—utterly unremarkable, painfully average. Just like her. The porch light flickered weakly above her, casting long shadows on the concrete steps that had begun to crack from years of indifferent weather. Even the welcome mat was faded to the point of irony.

The familiar aroma of roasted vegetables and seared meat rolled out to meet her the moment the door creaked open. It hit her like a warm wave—rich, comforting, heavy with garlic and pepper. The kind of scent that clung to childhood, that settled into her clothes and hair whether she wanted it to or not. Home. Safe. Smothering.

It was Friday night—mandatory family dinner night. A weekly ritual dreamed up by her mother Marielle, the unspoken queen of their chaotic little household. One that nobody dared to skip, even when they claimed they were too busy. The table would be full. The voices would be loud.

She hesitated in the doorway just a second longer, the bag slung over her shoulder biting into her skin. Her shoes felt suddenly too tight. The air to thick, but there was nothing special here. Just dinner. Just them.

And her, the girl who didn’t fit.

With a sigh that felt heavier than her backpack, Aria slipped off her shoes, the hallway lights casting warm glows against the hardwood floor. She could already hear the muffled voices of her sisters down the hall, chattering, teasing—beastly girls with their twitching tails and feline smirks, their confident laughs laced with power Aria didn’t have. Not yet. She told herself.

Marielle emerged from the kitchen in a cloud of steam and maternal calm, framed by the soft clang of pans and bubbling sauces that accompanied her like a symphony of domestic grace. She was radiant without even trying—effortlessly divine in a way that didn’t feel fair. Her dark chocolate hair curled down her shoulders in thick, untamed waves, still kissed by humidity and heat from the oven. It was pinned back only loosely by a pair of ivory cow horns that peeked through like delicate ornaments, curved and glossy with natural polish. Her cheeks were lightly flushed from the heat, giving her the glowing look of someone who’d just finished baking a feast and still had love to spare.

She wore a cream-colored apron tied snug around her generous figure, the fabric stretched taut over the dramatic curve of her hips and soft belly. It was already stained from sauces and flour, clinging here and there to the subtle indentations of her body. But it did nothing to hide her overwhelming femininity—wide, powerful hips that swayed with matronly authority, a waist that dipped like a soft invitation, and breasts so massive, so undeniably heavy, they seemed to defy logic. They shifted subtly with every breath, the apron neckline pulled low enough that a generous valley of deep cleavage was always on display.

Aria hated how perfect she was.

"Hey sweetie, how was your day?" Marielle asked, her voice warm like honeyed tea spiked with something thicker, more intoxicating. Her eyes—rich brown and rimmed with barely-there laugh lines—found Aria’s face immediately. That subtle crease of her brow, the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth. She saw through her like glass.

"Oh, don’t make such a face, my dear," she cooed, closing the distance in just a few graceful steps that made her hips sway like they had their own rhythm. Her arms spread wide, soft and beckoning, and Aria barely had time to brace before she was engulfed.

The hug hit like a spell.

Marielle’s massive tits smothered her head, squishing in around her face with a pillowy, slow-spreading weight. It was like being pressed into heaven—hot, plush heaven wrapped in the scent of lavender soap, brown sugar, and a hint of spice that lingered from the kitchen. Aria’s breath hitched as her nose brushed against bare skin where the apron gaped slightly, the soft swell of titflesh so close she could feel the pulse beneath it.

The scent, the weight, the warmth—it was overpowering. Like being wrapped in a blanket of woman. She froze, stiffening instinctively, arms awkward and useless against her mother’s apron-covered sides.

Gods, she’s so warm… why does she always hug me like this? Aria’s inner voice hissed in protest, even as her body softened.

And yet, as her cheek mashed softly between her mother’s cleavage and her arms hung awkwardly by her sides, the unfairness of it all simmered hotter. Marielle wasn’t even trying. She was just… built like that. Blessed. Beautiful. Beasty.

And Aria was still the same boring girl with no tail, no ears, no fucking horns—trapped between tits that didn’t belong to her, surrounded by women who practically oozed supernatural allure.

It wasn’t fair.

Because she was the only one in this household—the only daughter of Marielle’s sprawling brood—who had gone through puberty and come out the other side still infuriatingly, embarrassingly human. Not a twitching ear, not a tail flick, not a single glimmer of bestial inheritance. All of her sisters had gotten something—Kaelen with her fluffy fox tail and smug golden eyes, Leonora’s regal lioness poise and that thick mane of hair, even lazy little Liora with her twitchy feline ears and jade slits that glowed in the dark. But Aria? Plain. Unevolved. A genetic fluke.

She knew it wasn’t guaranteed. Beast traits were a roll of the dice, even if your mother had them. But still—it felt personal. Like the universe had reached down, looked at her hopeful, eager little self, and laughed in her face. Human. Mundane. Nothing but skin and bone and disappointment.

The thoughts coiled in her chest like smoke, wrapping tight around her lungs, until—

Warmth.

Marielle’s hands, gentle but large and firm, pulled her face out from between those plush mountains of titflesh with slow care, smiling down at her like Aria hadn’t just been suffocating in a storm of soft heat and maternal scent. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes slightly wide from the overwhelming closeness, and yet the moment she was free, Marielle’s fingers were already mussing her hair in that same casually affectionate way that made Aria want to scream and melt all at once.

“I know what you're thinking,” Marielle murmured, her voice as soft as butter sliding across warm bread. “And don’t. You are perfect the way you are, my sweet girl. And maybe… you know, there’s still a chance. Don’t give up.”

She said it with such earnest belief that Aria’s protest died before it could leave her throat. The bitterness didn’t vanish, not entirely—but it softened. It curled like a cat around the warmth in her chest, soaking up the glow of being seen.

“…Thank you,” Aria whispered. Her voice cracked a little, betraying more than she meant it to.

Marielle beamed. That devastatingly radiant smile that made the whole room feel like it bloomed—like the air got warmer just from her expression. "Now get a smile on that face, dinner is almost ready," she said, giving Aria one last squeeze that made her ribs creak beneath the soft pressure of full, motherly flesh. Then she turned with effortless grace, hips already starting to sway as she walked.

Her hips swung with the kind of weight that didn’t bounce—it rolled, like a tide made of plush meat and decadent curves. The fabric of her apron clung to every motion, rising slightly with each step to reveal the tantalizing hem of her house dress underneath, the outline of those thick thighs pressing into it like dough. Her backside jiggled with every movement, but it wasn’t frantic or exaggerated—it was deliberate, regal, obscene in its control. Like even gravity wanted to savor her.

It was motherly. It was obscene. It was beautiful. It was torture.

Aria bit her lip so hard she tasted iron, her pulse drumming through her ears. Her vision tunneled slightly, fixed on the hypnotic rhythm of Marielle’s ass, the way one cheek lifted, then the other, swaying under the strap of her apron like it was being cradled by invisible hands. That’s not okay. That’s not okay. That’s your mother, she told herself.

But her cock—traitorous, humiliating thing—twitched again. Harder. A pulse of need that stabbed down into her belly, making her legs tremble with the sudden tightness in her pants. It throbbed once, then again, each beat teasing the seam of her underwear and sticking to the warmth between her thighs.

She squeezed her legs together, shifting her stance like it would hide the bulge. It didn’t. If anything, it pressed it closer, made the pressure worse. The heat more unbearable.

Her thoughts spiraled, scattered like dry leaves in wind. She hugged me too long. That’s what did it. She shouldn’t smell that good. She shouldn’t be so soft. She shouldn’t—

“Hey, Aria!” Leonora’s voice cut through the air like a warm roar—deep, resonant, unmistakably confident—as she stepped into view from the hallway, toweling off damp streaks of water from her mane of thick, gold-blonde hair. The faint scent of citrus shampoo and something musky and primal wafted ahead of her like a storm front, clinging to her flushed skin. She had clearly just stepped out of the shower, and the tank top she wore clung damply to her sculpted torso, the white cotton slightly transparent from residual moisture, outlining the firm press of her nipples against the fabric. Her shorts were snug, sitting low on her hips, riding up slightly with every lazy stride as those thighs—thick, powerful slabs of muscle wrapped in womanly softness—flexed and shifted with feline grace.

Leonora wasn’t just her older sister. She was the eldest, the queen of their jungle. Over six feet tall and carved like some ancient goddess of war and motherhood, she carried herself with the kind of regal presence that made people instinctively sit straighter when she entered the room. Her beast traits weren’t subtle—her eyes shimmered with amber slits that narrowed with focus, and when she smiled, those long canines peeked from her lips in a quiet promise of danger. Her mane framed her face and shoulders, wild and unbrushed from her shower, cascading down her back like sunlit silk.

Aria couldn’t help but tense at the sight. Even in the haze of her own rising embarrassment from earlier—her mother’s scent still clinging to her nose, the ghost of titflesh still pressing against her cheek—her eyes followed Leonora like a worshipper staring up at a shrine. That casual strut of hers as she padded across the hallway in bare feet made the hardwood creak softly beneath her. Her hips rolled with the natural swagger of someone who knew exactly what kind of power her body radiated.

“Hey, sis,” Aria mumbled, her tone too casual, too dry, trying to mask the blush already coloring her cheeks.

Leonora stopped, cocking her head, then sauntered over with a half-lidded gaze. “You just standing around here lookin’ lost?” she teased, voice teasing and warm as her golden eyes flicked down Aria’s frame briefly.

Aria stammered, shifting her weight. “Ehm—no, I was just talking to Mom. She’s went to the kitchen if you need her.”

Leonora gave a lazy shrug, the motion rippling through her tank top. “Nah, I’m good. Just smelled food and figured I’d help. Come on. Let’s get the table set before Kaelen starts using the salt shaker as a projectile again.”

She turned and walked away with that same impossibly confident grace, each step sending a hypnotic ripple through her ass, the shorts hugging every inch. Aria stood frozen for a second, jaw clenched, thighs tight. Then she followed, biting the inside of her cheek again for a different reason.

They padded through the hallway, Aria’s footsteps light and hesitant beside the thunderous confidence of Leonora’s stride, until they reached the wide archway that opened into the dining room. It was cozy but expansive, the lighting warm and golden as it spilled over the polished surface of a heavy oak table large enough to seat the entire beastly brood. Every chair had a name in this house, a rightful owner—and yet the scene they walked into felt like a caricature of normalcy. Except nothing here ever really was.

Liora, as usual, had claimed the plush couch shoved into the corner of the room. Her petite frame stretched out like a spoiled cat, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, the other bent just enough to let her toes flick in rhythm with the page turns of her thick novel. Her black hair fell messily over one shoulder, tangled and soft, and her jade-green eyes never lifted from the text. But her cat ears twitched in idle reaction to their presence, flicking cutely as her long, black-furred tail swished with deliberate laziness across the cushions.

She didn’t so much as glance toward the table—where Kaelen, poor Kaelen, was clearly being punished by circumstance. Alone, of course. No way the silver-haired fox would willingly do chores without provocation. Yet there she was, begrudgingly arranging cutlery with exaggerated flair and muttering under her breath as her golden eyes narrowed at each misplaced fork. Her ears perked instantly at the sound of approaching footsteps, swiveling with fox-like attentiveness.

“Hey, human,” Kaelen called, her voice lilting with practiced cruelty and unmistakable amusement, “finally got some luck?”

She didn’t even turn fully to face them, just smirked over her shoulder, her fox ears twitching with smug glee, and her silky, luxurious tail curling with deliberate laziness around her toned thigh. That damn silver hair gleamed under the overhead light, each layer falling just perfectly into place, like she woke up with natural smugness written into her DNA. Her bare shoulders caught the light in a way that made her look like some spoiled goddess of mischief.

Aria huffed, rolling her eyes as she passed, but couldn't stop the slight upward curl of her lip as she stuck her tongue out. It was routine by now. Predictable. Kaelen threw barbs, and Aria deflected. But it was never just teasing . Because with every jab, every sly look Kaelen threw, Aria’s blood didn’t just boil—it simmered, coiling low in her belly, confusing and infuriating and absolutely frustrated.

Leonora’s patience, however, was as thin as her tolerance for drama. Her amber eyes flicked with feline precision to Kaelen, and that single glance—sharp, golden, imperious—shut the fox up instantly. Kaelen's smirk faltered, and she turned back to the table with forced innocence, folding napkins like they’d just insulted her ancestry.

“Why aren’t you helping your sister?” Leonora asked, her tone deceptively soft, but undercut with that iron command that made spines straighten whether you wanted them to or not. Her voice didn’t rise. It never needed to.

Liora, buried half in a throw pillow and wholly in her book, didn’t even flick her gaze upward. Her jade eyes stayed fixed on the page as she lifted one delicate hand in a lazy wave, like the effort of responding was almost painful. “Mom said she needs to do it alone,” she murmured, voice dragging like honey over hot stone. “Means I don't need to”

Leonora’s brow twitched. “What did she do this time?”

Before Liora could answer, Kaelen snapped in with a mock-innocent tone, her voice dripping sarcasm. “I did nothing. Just got home late yesterday after the college party, and apparently that’s a mortal sin now.”

Her tail flicked behind her, agitated now, no longer coy. The sharp twitch betrayed her real mood, even as she tried to repackage herself in smug defiance. Aria watched them all, silent, not because she had nothing to say—but because everything in her was already a knot. Kaelen’s flirtatious cruelty, Liora’s languid detachment, Leonora’s authoritative glare—it was a script they’d all memorized. And she, as always, played the understudy in a drama where she couldn’t decide if she wanted the spotlight or the exit.

The dynamic was painfully familiar.

And she, as always, was just caught somewhere in the middle—the only human in her home. Not beast enough to belong to the effortless sensuality of her sisters, not plain enough to disappear into the background. Just human. Just here.

Of course, it was probably all in her head—she reminded herself of that often. Her mother and sisters never outright pushed her into the background, never truly treated her like some bizarre outsider, some aberration to be pitied or mocked. They laughed with her, included her, wrapped her in warmth and routine and comfort. She knew—deep in the quiet, aching center of her heart—that they loved her fiercely, that she loved them back with every part of her. But even so, it stung. It burned a little more each time her eyes caught the delicate twitch of a cat ear from Liora, or the elegant sweep of Kaelen’s fox tail curling smugly around her thigh. It was like living in a home built from reminders—every trait they bore was a mirror reflecting what Aria lacked. And Kaelen, godsdamn Kaelen, never passed up a chance to pour salt in that wound. Her teasing was constant, relentless, and artfully delivered with a smirk that danced on the line between playful and cutting. And maybe Aria should be over it by now—maybe the time window to awaken her own traits was long gone, sealed shut by fate and indifferent genetics. But even as she tried to bury it, to smother that longing beneath layers of resignation, it clung to her ribcage like a splinter. A tiny, maddening flicker of hope still glowed there, defiant and stupid and stubborn. The what-if that wouldn’t die. 

The blanket was always the best part for Aria when she woke up in the morning. It cocooned her like a warm embrace, snuggly and comforting, a shield against the outside world that demanded so much from her. On this particular lazy Saturday morning, it felt like pure heaven. There were no responsibilities clawing at her. No sisters to outshine her. Just the soft rustle of morning birdsong filtering through the partially open window, a soft breeze ruffling the gauzy curtain, and golden sunlight spilling in to drape her room in a slow, amber glow. Yet even that light, warming the worn posters on her wall and the scratched surface of her desk, felt distant compared to the deep, body-wrapping warmth beneath her covers.

She sighed contentedly, stretching like a cat, her body arching in languid grace as her toes flexed under the sheets. Her arms rose above her head, spine curving as her breath deepened, her chest rising slowly with the serenity of the moment. Her hair spilled over her pillow as she rolled slightly, hand reaching up to run through her soft chestnut locks. Fingers brushed over something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Something soft. Velvety. Fuzzy. Her fingers paused. Then instinctively scratched.

The sensation was strange—but oddly pleasant. It wasn’t until she scratched behind it—behind what felt like a folded tip—that realization sparked like a jolt of electricity in her half-sleeping mind.

Wait. Wait, wait—what the hell was that?!

Her eyes shot open, pupils wide as her heart rocketed in her chest. She sat up with the force of a thunderclap, sheets pooling around her waist as her hands flew to her head, frantically searching. She gasped. Her palms brushed against something unmistakable—two fluffy, triangular tufts poking out from the crown of her skull, twitching instinctively at her touch.

They weren’t a headband. They weren’t a trick of the blanket. They moved. They twitched.

“Oh my gods,” she whispered, voice trembling, eyes wide as moons. “Oh my fucking gods.”

Excitement burst through her like fireworks—shock, disbelief, and something deeper, something hotter—pride, joy, maybe even a desperate relief that made her breath hitch. Her fingers trembled as they brushed the ears again, tracing the silky fur, the soft give of the cartilage beneath. They were real. They were hers.

She bloomed.

After all this time, after all the years of wondering, comparing, envying—it happened. It really happened. Her whole body flushed with a heat so intense it bordered on delirium. Her skin prickled with a rush of adrenaline and arousal, a dizzy cocktail that made her toes curl and her stomach flip.

"I got ears," she whispered again, laughter bubbling up in her chest like a mad giggle. "I fucking got ears."

Her legs kicked beneath the sheets, an involuntary wiggle of joy as her body vibrated with giddy disbelief. Her nipples peaked through her thin sleep shirt, the fabric rasping lightly over her skin with every movement. Every sensation felt amplified. Her new ears twitched, flicking subtly with her breath. She could feel them.

“Oh, shit. This is so exciting,” she whispered to herself, a shaky grin spreading across her face. Her pulse thundered through her veins as she imagined—just for a moment—walking down the stairs with these beautiful ears upright and visible, seeing the look on Marielle’s face. On Leonora’s. On Kaelen’s.

But first she needed to see all the changes. Her breath caught with anticipation as she slowly stretched, her arms rising high over her head, joints popping, sinew shifting. Her eyes followed every motion of her limbs with rapt attention, watching for any hint of transformation. And there it was—subtle, but undeniable. Her biceps looked tighter, sculpted just a bit more, her shoulders held an effortless power to them. Was that a strength boost? Her heart pounded faster at the possibility. "Oh gods, that would be so fucking cool," she whispered aloud, a flush of warmth sparking to life low in her belly. That ember didn’t stay contained—it flared hot and heavy, a carnal throb blooming in her loins, a pressure that pulsed insistently from under her blanket. Her morning wood, long her familiar companion, was practically quivering with excitement, hard and eager and twitching like it shared in her discovery.

"Now which animal am I?" she murmured, the thrill bubbling out of her in breathless wonder. She focused on the new ears atop her head—their shape, the texture, the twitch of movement that happened without her input. They didn’t look feline… no, not feline. Then the boost in strength… Her eyes darted down her body, and a wild grin began to spread across her lips. "Maybe I got a tail," she said, voice rising in a gasp as she leaned forward, twisting around.

And there it was.

A full, fluffy, thick-furred tail curled behind her, twitching with life, dark and elegant in its wildness. A wolf’s tail. She clapped both hands over her mouth as laughter exploded from her throat—giddy, breathless, vibrating with disbelief. "I’m a fucking wolf! Oh my god, that is so fucking awesome!"

Her giggle turned into a sharp gasp as her cock gave an aggressive throb under the blanket, practically demanding attention. The twitch was so strong it drew her gaze downward instinctively and that’s when she really saw it. Her entire body went still. Her hands reached for the blankets and peeled them back slowly, breath held tight in her lungs. And there—right there—between her legs, proof of her transformation waited like a beast.

Her human cock—the one she’d gotten used to, even grown a little smug about—was gone. Replaced by something monstrous, alien, feral. Her eyes widened, mouth parting in a silent gasp as she stared.

Between her thighs stood a thick, veiny shaft—blushed dark red, its flesh ridged and textured like something primal, untamed, throbbing with a pulse so intense she could feel it echo in her hips. The skin along its length twitched with every heartbeat, ridges flexing, as though the cock itself had a will of its own. The head, sharply tapered and unmistakably canid in shape, glistened with a thick bead of precum, clinging to the tip like a pearl of molten desire that trembled before falling to her thigh in a sticky strand. Her breath caught in her throat, eyes roving hungrily along the veined shaft, marveling at how alien and lewd it looked compared to her old, familiar self.

That vein—thick, dark, prominent—ran like a roadmap of need down the underside, leading her gaze further until the base swelled. No, not just swelled—it blossomed. Into a massive knot, a bulging orb of flesh so big, so obscenely swollen with pressure and potential, it seemed to defy anatomy. It pulsed visibly, with a slow, throbbing rhythm that radiated heat in waves. The size alone made her thighs fall open wider, her legs welcoming the weight and stretch with a subconscious hunger she hadn’t expected. It was lewd. Bestial. Utterly hypnotizing.

And beneath that? Her lungs seized, drawing in a breath that trembled with disbelief and raw want. Her balls—what had once been a modest, ignorable presence—were now transformed into something wholly different. A heavy, pendulous pair of testicles that hung low and proud between her thighs, dark and tight, their leathery surface blushed with need. Each orb looked distended, packed with cum that begged for release, their weight pulling at her groin with aching insistence. They radiated heat—thick, palpable, almost oppressive. Her hand twitched with the need to touch them, to cup that impossible mass and feel just how overcharged they were. Her thighs instinctively tightened, then loosened again, trying to cradle the new burden.

Her whole body felt like it was buzzing, tingling with a fierce, unfamiliar energy that coursed through every nerve. Her vision swam, not from dizziness, but from the high of arousal and transformation. "I am a wolf…" she whispered, the words dazed, heavy with awe and rising arousal. Her eyes couldn’t look away. Her body throbbed with new sensations, new need.

A need like no other bloomed in Aria’s belly—sharp, pulsing, and volcanic. It wasn’t just lust. It was instinct—a raw, biological scream from her newly minted balls, swollen and throbbing with seed, demanding release with the single-minded purpose of spreading it. Her wolf cock pulsed with authority, thick and needy, the knot already flexing at the base as her whole room felt soaked in heat. She drew in a breath through her nose and gasped. The musk was unbearable now—rich, feral, and utterly soaked in pheromones. The air felt syrupy with it, clinging to her skin, her sheets, even the very walls like a mist of rut. Her loins were a furnace, a deep heat radiating outward in waves, curling steam-like from between her legs.

She whimpered—an involuntary, shameful sound—her breath trembling in her throat as her fingers hovered over the monstrous length now claimed by her body. They shook, unsure, caught between fear and fascination, like she was reaching for some forbidden relic instead of her own cock. But it called to her—no, it demanded her touch. Her entire body thrummed with a heat so all-consuming it made her dizzy, a carnality that sang through her blood and set every nerve aflame. The moment her trembling hand made contact, the shaft twitched violently, thick and veiny under her palm, and a wet thump echoed as her fingers landed against the slick girth. Even trying to wrap her hand around it felt absurd. Her fingertips didn’t come close to meeting. It was alive. It was throbbing.

A ragged gasp tore from her lips. She felt it—everywhere. The pulse of it was in her spine, her ribs, the hollow space behind her eyes. The weight of it rested on her belly like a lead pipe, and yet it wasn’t heavy—it was glorious. Each subtle shift of her grip sent sparks of awareness exploding through her, and when her fingers curled slightly, giving the barest, most uncertain stroke, it felt like she’d dragged lightning down her spine. Her thighs clenched involuntarily, and her wolf tail gave a sharp, happy flick against the sheets.

This can’t be real, she thought, but the needy throb of her cock insisted otherwise. It was too hot, too real. Her skin flushed pink, sweat already beading at her temples. The shaft was rigid, almost violently so, textured with ridges and veins that stood out like molten rivers of lust. As her hand slid up its impossible length, precum oozed in syrup-thick ropes from the pointed tip, soaking the sheets beneath her with wet, glistening heat.

Then the sound came.

The soft creak of hinges that might as well have been a thunderclap.

Aria’s blood froze in her veins.

Leonora’s silhouette filled the doorway—radiant and relaxed in casual wear, a simple tank top glued to her sculpted chest by humidity, the curve of her abs visible beneath. Her shorts were nearly swallowed between the muscle of her thighs, lion-like and powerful, every inch of her body exuding alpha heat. She was humming. Her mane spilled around her shoulders like a halo of gold. Until she saw.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her golden eyes locked onto Aria and dilated instantly, wide and glowing and hungry. Her nostrils flared. Her lips parted just slightly as the thick fog of wolf musk—dense with rut, soaked in pheromonal lust—hit her like a drug. Her body shivered, and the sound of the door clicking shut behind her was quiet, final, charged.

“Oh… wow,” she murmured, her voice lower now, slowed by disbelief and something deeper. The tone curled around Aria like warm honey, dragging heat to her cheeks, her chest, her cock.

“Ehm… morning,” Aria croaked out, but the words barely passed her lips. Her voice cracked like a guilty child’s, and her hand remained glued to the fat, obscene length between her legs, still drooling steadily as her body trembled with need. She should have let go. She should have hidden it. But it pulsed again—sharper, firmer—like it wanted Leonora to see. And gods, she was seeing it. Devouring it with her eyes.

Leonora moved closer. Each step a soft thud against the floor. Slow. Measured. A predator approaching something precious. Her gaze never broke away from the sight of that throbbing cock, her expression a strange, beautiful mix of awe and… something else. Reverence. Hunger. Desire.

“You bloomed,” she whispered, and her voice trembled with real joy, pride, something almost maternal. “I’m so happy for you.”

Aria’s eyes darted to her sister’s thighs, the subtle twitch beneath the fabric of her shorts. She swallowed thickly, her whole mouth dry.

“Thanks, but…” she began, only to falter. Her lips couldn’t form the words. Not while Leonora stood there like that, drinking her in. Not while her heart pounded like a war drum and her cock flexed harder, thicker, spraying another lazy bead of slick heat onto her trembling belly. Not when she was being looked at like that.

She saw Leonora bite her lower lip, her eyes never once straying from the thick, twitching mast jutting from Aria’s lap. There was something primal in that gaze, something dangerously charged, and it made Aria's throat close around the next breath. The lioness tilted her head slightly, golden locks spilling forward like a mane framing a predator in heat. Her voice was thick with amusement and lust as she murmured, "Huh… interesting. Kaelen didn’t get a fox cock when she bloomed."

The words were spoken too casually, far too soaked in heat to be neutral. As she stepped forward, each slow, deliberate movement carried the weight of inevitability. Her knees sank onto the soft mattress with a gentle creak, towering frame folding gracefully into a looming, statuesque presence. Her muscular thighs spread slightly for balance, giving Aria a view of those shorts strained over quaking lion thighs, the faintest outline of dampness betraying Leonora’s own rising arousal.

"Kaelen?" Aria asked with a breathless voice, the name breaking from her lips on a moan-thin whisper. She couldn’t hide the need; it coated every syllable like honey clinging to a spoon.

"Mmhmm." Leonora’s eyes flicked up briefly, her smile slow and secretive. "She needed help during her first heat. It hits hard your first time... So we helped her out."

Her gaze dropped again, riveted to the pulsing length that throbbed like it was trying to reach her. It twitched violently, slapping wetly against Aria’s lower belly and smearing precum like syrup against trembling skin. It wasn’t just lust now—it was hunger. The kind that went beyond carnal. The kind that made mouths water and logic vanish.

Leonora licked her lips slowly, then leaned closer, her breath ghosting over the shaft. "And look at you. Just bloomed and already in heat? Gods, poor little thing… though little might not be the right word."

Her hand rose—one of those big, lion-strong hands with thick fingers and rough palms, made to hold things—and hovered just inches away from the swollen crown of Aria’s cock. The heat between them could have scorched the air. Aria’s breath caught in her throat, pupils blown wide, her chest rising and falling in panicked, desperate rhythm. The ache between her legs was unbearable now. Her cock twitched again—so eager, so ready it almost pleaded to be touched. Another glob of precum welled up, leaking thick and slow, the scent of wolf rut now cloying in the air, undeniable and thick as oil.

Aria’s voice stammered out in a choked, near-silent plea. She wanted it. Gods, she needed it. Every nerve in her body was screaming for sensation, for friction, for release. Her thighs were trembling, her toes curled tight, and her fingers clenched fists into the sheets beneath her as her body tried not to buck upward into that hovering hand.

The moment stretched—painfully drawn, almost cruel in its tension—until Leonora met her eyes.

"Do you want my help?" she asked, her tone deep, almost reverent, like she was offering a sacred rite.

Their eyes locked—and Aria, heart hammering, voice lost, mind drowned in need—could only give her a shaky, desperate nod.

"Very well," Leonora murmured, voice molten and thick with hunger. "Just lean back and enjoy it."

Her hand wrapped around Aria's swollen shaft with reverent slowness, and the moment her fingers made contact, the beast between Aria’s thighs bucked violently. That wolf cock—pulsing, monstrous, slick with need—throbbed as if it had been waiting for her touch since the moment it bloomed. It was hot, fever-hot, radiating primal heat through her palm. The ridged length twitched as a thick string of precum welled from the pointed tip, drooling lazily onto Aria’s trembling belly.

Aria gasped—a sharp, strangled sound, more moan than breath. Her whole body jerked with the pleasure that arced through her like a lightning strike. Her hips bucked without her permission, forcing more of that obscenely thick cock into Leonora’s grip. The lioness let out a husky, awed chuckle, her amber eyes gleaming. “Fuck,” she muttered, dragging her second hand up to help. “This thing’s a fucking monster… can’t even get my fingers around it.”

Her fingers strained against the girth, barely closing around the meaty shaft as she began to stroke—slowly, deliberately, her thumbs teasing the ridges, her palms dragging across the heat-slicked skin. Each stroke milked more slick from the tip, the thick goo painting her knuckles as Aria writhed. Her back arched, head falling into the pillows with a shuddering moan. Her thighs fell open in instinctive submission, exposing the full length of her cock and the heavy swell of her balls, which twitched and tightened with every squeeze of Leonora’s hand.

“Y-you think this is a good idea?” Aria managed, voice ragged, trembling with need and disbelief. Her eyes were wide, breath shallow, her chest heaving with every pulse of carnal overload.

Leonora smirked—a slow, devastating expression of confidence and lust. She leaned in, her breath brushing over the leaking crown, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled the dense, heady musk that clung to every inch of Aria’s cock. “Yes,” she purred, her voice husky and thick with hunger. “It’s the best idea I’ve ever had.”

Her lips hovered just above the tip for a single, suspended breath and then her tongue darted out, slow and teasing, licking up the heavy drop of precum like it was nectar. The taste hit her instantly—salty, potent, thick with the flavor of heat and need. She moaned low in her throat, the sound vibrating against Aria’s shaft as she gave the tip another slow lick, circling it now, savoring the way it twitched under her tongue.

Aria cried out, her hips lifting, her hands fisting in the sheets. Her whole body was ablaze, her new anatomy oversensitized and begging for more. The touch of Leonora’s tongue felt like fire—like every nerve in her cock had been rewired to scream for attention. Her vision blurred, her mind short-circuited, and all she could think—all she could feel—was Leonora’s mouth and the volcanic heat burning in her loins.

“Oh gods… more,” she whimpered, voice cracking under the weight of want.

Leonora’s grin curled like sin incarnate, and she leaned in with a slow, deliberate hunger, tongue slipping out to graze the trembling crown of Aria’s wolf cock. Her spit slicked across the throbbing flesh, turning that dark-red beast into something obscene and glistening. Her mouth worshipped the length like it was sacred, lips tracing reverent kisses along one side as she descended, each press leaving behind a sticky sheen of saliva that cooled in the open air only to be reheated by the next touch. Her tongue teased the veiny underside, curling with sinuous intent, flicking upward in a path that made Aria’s thighs quake. Each press was wet, lewd, deliberate—soft mouth dragging across oversensitized skin that flexed beneath her, twitching with every exhale and teasing kiss.

Aria’s breath caught in her throat, hips jerking with each slow glide of Leonora’s lips, the friction setting off electric fireworks behind her eyes. Her cock pulsed wildly, spasming as it soaked in attention that felt like lightning crashing down her spine—raw and uncontrollable. Her swollen, aching balls hung like bloated orbs between her thighs, dense and heavy and unbearably full, radiating that primal pressure that begged to be drained. Every breath Leonora took, every humid exhale against her shaft, seemed to make them swell further, a pulsing need that pushed Aria’s sanity to the brink. They tensed with every kiss, every lick, every pulse of her cock against Leonora’s palms, tightening like they were already winding up to unload an earth-shattering torrent. She moaned—a helpless, broken sound that tore from her chest, her throat straining with the sheer intensity of sensation overtaking her. Too much… too good… fuck, she’s going to make me… her mind fogged, spiraling as the lioness’s worship dragged her deeper into a haze of feral, desperate pleasure she never wanted to leave.

Leonora’s lips slid lower, dragging trails of spit down the shaft until her face nuzzled close to the base—where the monstrous, engorged knot pulsed like a heart of molten lust. “Gods, this knot…” she murmured under her breath, reverent, almost dazed. She leaned in and pressed a full, open-mouthed kiss to it. Aria’s whole body convulsed. Her back arched, a breathless cry ripping from her lips as the knot spasmed beneath Leonora’s tongue.

"Oh, so sensitive here?" she teased, voice dripping with lewd amusement as her tongue lapped slow, sinuous circles over the knot, her lips trailing wet heat in obscene, spiraling patterns that made Aria's entire lower half quake. She gave the bulbous base another long, savoring lick—like she was tasting something forbidden—before leaning in and suckling again, messily, hungrily, practically making out with the knot as if it were a lover’s mouth. Her lips dragged over the swollen orb with obscene wet noises, her cheeks hollowing slightly with every pulse as if she meant to drain it through sheer will. The heat of her breath, the slickness of her tongue, the soft, wet pressure of her mouth—all of it created a storm of sensation that made Aria twitch and buck against her sister’s touch, a broken moan choking out as her tail thumped the bed helplessly.

Leonora’s hands never stopped moving—slow, commanding pumps up and down the spit-soaked shaft, her palms slick with drool and precum, her fingers stroking with a finesse that could only come from experience. Each glide teased and squeezed every twitching ridge, coaxing out thicker and thicker globs of syrupy fluid from the pointed tip. The precum spilled in lazy, obscene ropes, trickling down the underside of Aria’s cock in glossy sheets that caught the light like molten amber, pooling into the hollow of her navel and matting the sheets beneath her. Her hands, soaked and glistening, gripped tighter as the shaft throbbed between them, painting her skin with sticky need. The smell was overwhelming—musk, heat, spit, and sex—heavy enough to taste.

“Such a mess,” Leonora murmured, voice muffled by the knot still in her mouth. Her tongue licked deep between the folds of that bulging base as if searching for something sacred, and every motion made Aria’s breath hitch in raw desperation. The lioness sucked harder, drawing a shuddering gasp from Aria as her balls tensed and churned, bloated with cum, swinging with animal weight between her thighs. Her body was on fire—twitching, drenched, drowning in sensation. She wasn’t just close—she was unraveling, falling into a spiral of pleasure so sharp and thick it threatened to collapse her entirely.

She moaned deeply, her throat vibrating with a sound soaked in raw desire, as both her hands coiled tighter around Aria’s spit-slick, throbbing shaft. Her fingers moved with steady, possessive intent, milking each vein and ridge with practiced precision, her grip tightening with each forward stroke as though she were claiming the length as hers—utterly and completely. Her sisters eyes blazed golden in the soft light, locked hungrily on Aria’s face, watching every tremble, every hitched breath, every broken moan that escaped her swollen, parted lips.

Aria was trembling, helpless under the overwhelming tide of sensation, her body a tense coil of trembling nerves, her toes curling into the sheets as her muscles strained against the bed. Her mind swam, awash in heat and disbelief and a pulsing carnal hunger she’d never imagined would feel this fucking good. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest heaving with the strain of her own need, every nerve in her newly awakened body screaming with hypersensitive need.

The lioness’s tongue left her spit-glazed knot with a slow, sensual drag, a wet smack echoing in the haze-drenched room as she licked her way up the twitching shaft. Her tongue curled around the base, dragging through the valley of bulging veins and slickened ridges, collecting the messy, glossy trail of her own spit and Aria’s leaking need. Every inch she traveled was claimed with reverent filth—her lips barely touching but close enough to make the skin jump beneath her breath. She made a soft hum as she reached the halfway mark, vibrating pleasure into the meat of Aria’s cock that made the younger girl’s hips twitch, a strangled moan breaking past her lips. Her shaft was pulsing with desperate life, each throb making the lioness's tongue bounce slightly as she grazed it with teasing flicks, her saliva layering it in obscenely thick coats.

By the time Leonora reached the pointed, canine crown, the shaft was glistening—drenched in layers of heat and devotion, marinated in precum so thick it slithered down the underside in milky strands. Her breath ghosted over the engorged head, hot and damp, making it twitch wildly. Aria couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—every part of her felt like it was being pulled toward that teasing heat, that open mouth hovering so close yet not close enough. She needed it—needed it with a desperation that burned behind her eyes, her hands clenching the sheets like lifelines. The head pulsed again, thick and twitching, leaking a fresh, lazy stream of precum that clung to the crown like melted honey, threatening to drip before Leonora caught it with a slow, languid lick.

Leonora’s mouth hovered, parted and insatiable, her amber gaze meeting Aria’s—locking with an intensity so fierce it made Aria’s breath catch, her chest stuttering under the weight of it. That look held her like a collar, binding her in place, drowning her in the heat of it. The moment stretched between them, thick with lust and unspoken promises, and then—slow, sultry, devastating—Leonora smiled. That teasing, knowing curl of her lips that said I need it. She gave Aria a wink, slow and deliberate, and Aria’s stomach flipped, a jolt of lust crashing through her like lightning in her veins.

Her lips descended with agonizing slowness, the breath from her nostrils flaring against the slick head until finally—finally—they wrapped around the tip. Heat, pressure, wetness. The moment her mouth enveloped that swollen crown, Aria cried out, her body jolting like a live wire. Her thighs snapped shut around Leonora’s shoulders instinctively, as if to anchor herself against the devastating wave of pleasure that surged through her. Leonora’s tongue was a sinuous thing, swirling in expert circles, tracing every flare of the head, flicking at the drooling slit with lewd, wet laps that made Aria’s stomach clench. Each stroke of that tongue dragged her deeper into a haze of overstimulation, her mind a storm of white noise and desperate need.

Her cheeks hollowed slightly as her lips stretched wide to accommodate the girth, saliva spilling at the corners and dribbling down Aria’s shaft, coating it in a glistening slickness that caught the light. She sucked with a slow, deliberate hunger, dragging every ounce of sensation from the sensitive crown, milking it with obscene slurps that echoed in the quiet, sticky air of the room. Aria’s eyes rolled back, her chest heaving with ragged gasps, every nerve in her body exploding in waves of molten sensation that spread from her cock outward to every fingertip, every toe. She could feel her heart hammering in her ears, her vision blurring as Leonora pressed further, the velvet heat of her throat creeping down the shaft inch by inch. Still the lioness descended deeper, her mouth a velvet furnace that gripped and licked, pulling her into a spiral of ecstasy she had no hope of resisting.

And everything came to a fevered, blistering peak once Leonora swallowed every last inch down to the root—well, down until the knot stopped her. Her lips pressed hungrily into the swollen bulb, throat convulsing, choking and relaxing in rhythm as she forced her body to deepthroat the massive shaft with all her leonine skill.

The sheer sight of it was obscene: her throat bulging with Aria’s cock, veins straining under flushed skin, her cheeks hollowed and slick with spit as she gulped and sucked greedily around the girth. Strings of drool spilled from her lips, running down the length and soaking her chest, her eyes glassy with the effort yet filled with hunger. Aria’s vision blurred with white light, her head rolling back against the pillows as pleasure detonated through her nerves like wildfire, sparks of sensation racing to every extremity. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, her toes curling so tight her calves cramped, and still Leonora forced herself down, gagging wetly as her throat stretched around the invading meat. Her knot, swollen and hypersensitive, twitched violently with every brush of Leonora’s lips, each tiny graze sending bolts of lightning through her spine, making her hips buck in raw, instinctual thrusts she couldn’t stop even if she tried. Every drag of Leonora’s throat over her shaft felt like a vice of molten velvet, squeezing and milking her cock, coaxing more precum to spurt and drool into that hungry mouth that refused to let go.

Below, her heavy balls—dense, swollen, steel-hard orbs sloshing with weeks of pent-up need—were being worshipped by Leonora’s hands. Two strong palms kneaded and squeezed, rolling the weight with obscene devotion, her thumbs pressing into the thick seam between them and tracing circles that made Aria’s legs spasm helplessly. Fingers dug into the taut sacs, tugging and rolling them with slow, relentless intent, coaxing them like she wanted to milk every last drop straight from the source. The pressure sent Aria into delirium, her back arching off the bed as if she were being wrung out from the inside, every nerve ending screaming as hot sparks shot up her spine. Her stomach clenched violently, as though her whole body were straining toward eruption, trembling and convulsing under Leonora’s touch. It was too much, too fucking much, the kind of pleasure that blurred into pain, only to loop back into bliss so sharp it made her toes curl, her thighs quake, and her voice break into ragged, animalistic cries that she barely recognized as her own. Drool spilled unchecked down her chin, her eyes rolling as her body bucked wildly, her instincts overtaking any rational thought.

And all of it—the heat of Leonora’s throat, the brutal suction around her shaft, the relentless worship of her balls—was coming from her sister, her protective, overbearing Leonora, now choking, gagging, and drooling on nearly a foot of her wolf cock as if she were starved for it. That truth alone shattered Aria’s composure, sent her cock pulsing harder than ever, the thick veins bulging with frantic need, her knot swelling obscenely at the base as if demanding to lock her in place. Her balls churned and throbbed, bloated with cum and aching to unload, each squeeze of Leonora’s hands making them tighten higher against her body. She was gone, undone, her entire body winding into the inevitable spiral of climax, every muscle wound taut like a bowstring, every breath a broken sob as she hovered at the precipice, teetering on the brink of explosive release with no escape.

Leonora held it, throat stretched wide, eyes tearing as spit bubbled at the corners of her mouth. Her nostrils flared with ragged, desperate breaths as the swollen knot ground against her lips, the one barrier keeping her from swallowing Aria whole and pressing her nose into the younger girl’s pelvis. She stayed there, locked in place, her throat walls constricting and massaging every inch above the knot with obscene ripples. The tight, wet channel flexed and clenched, bubbling with spit as it squeezed Aria’s shaft in waves that made her vision blur. Leonora gagged around it, choking wetly, before she finally tore herself free for air. The thick crown popped from her lips with a filthy smack, a string of spit snapping between them as the cool air rushed over the raging, angry-red tip. It throbbed violently, spitting precum, demanding release like it was alive.

Aria’s breathing was ragged, her chest heaving with every gasp. Some tiny voice whispered she should intervene, that maybe this was wrong—but the thought melted instantly when she looked at Leonora’s face. Eyes half-lidded and glazed, spit and drool streaking her chin, her lips parted in a messy smile as thick strands still connected her to the glistening shaft. She looked cock-drunk, intoxicated on the musk pouring off Aria’s body, her expression one of lusty hunger and delirious need. The heat-heavy pheromones radiating from Aria’s cock only drove her deeper into that haze, making her lick her lips like a starved animal.

“I-I think I’m close,” Aria stammered, voice cracking, her whole body trembling under the unbearable tension. Leonora’s only response was a hungry growl before she shoved herself back down, forcing her throat to bulge obscenely around that massive shaft again, choking herself eagerly on the meat as she dove for it like it was the only thing she wanted in the world.

It was too much—too intense, too overwhelming, too filthy, and yet so fucking perfect. The strangeness of her new cock, still alien yet entirely hers, boiled with unbearable heat, veins throbbing as the primal instinct to breed surged to the forefront of her brain like a beast loosed from its chains. Her hips flexed forward involuntarily, driven by something beyond thought, beyond logic. She needed to cum—needed to unload in the hot, clenching throat swallowing her like it was built for her.

Her cock jerked wildly, pulsing with brutal strength, thick as a forearm and twitching madly, and then—Aria's eyes rolled back. She let go.

A deep, animal growl tore from her throat as her heavy, churning balls clenched impossibly tight, drawing upward with a visible shudder. The thick orbs pulled taut against her body, the seam between them pulsing with pressure, before they unleashed their load in a savage, earth-shattering climax. Her entire body bucked, every muscle drawn tight, as thick, boiling-hot seed blasted from the tip in a violent gush. Her first load erupted in one monstrous spurt, slamming into Leonora’s throat with the force of a punch. It was like a dam bursting—thick, dense, pearlescent wolf cum flooded her siser’s mouth, flooding past her tongue and plunging into her stomach in heavy, obscene swallows.

Spurt after spurt followed, each one a jet of virile spunk hotter and heavier than the last. Her cock throbbed uncontrollably with every burst, twitching in Leonora’s throat like it was trying to fuck her from the inside. The lioness moaned around the onslaught, her throat flexing as she tried desperately to gulp it all down. But there was too much, way more than Aria could have ever imagined. Her cum was thick, sticky like honey, and came in such volume that it splashed out around Leonora’s seal, flooding down her chin in molten ropes. Every time she swallowed, more came, painting her tongue, teeth, and lips in a glossy sheen of creamy white.

It ran down the base of Aria’s cock in obscene rivers, dripping over the bulging knot now fully swollen and throbbing like a heart. It swelled painfully, eager to lock her inside a mate she didn’t have, twitching wildly with every desperate clench. Even without being buried in a tight, hungry cunt, her body wanted to tie, to seed, to breed. She couldn’t stop moaning, each ragged cry louder than the last, her hips grinding forward with shallow thrusts that sent more cum shooting into Leonora’s overstuffed throat.

It felt endless. Her orgasm dragged on and on, her balls pumping out obscene amounts of spunk, coating every inch of Leonora’s throat, mouth, and chin. The sounds were messy, lewd—wet gurgling, sucking gasps, the slosh of cum pooling between her thighs and soaking the sheets beneath her. Aria’s body twitched violently with each pulse, her back arching again and again until finally—finally—it began to taper off.

Her cock gave a few final, lazy throbs, spurting weaker strands of seed that oozed from her tip in creamy ribbons. Her breath was broken, shallow and gasping, as though her lungs were too wrecked to work. Her arms flopped limply at her sides, her chest rising and falling like she’d just sprinted for her life. Her mind was blank, bliss-fogged and stunned.

Leonora let her stay like that for several moments before she slowly, reverently pulled back. Her lips slid up the shaft, still sucking gently, draining every drop as if it were sacred. Finally, with a loud, wet pop, the swollen tip slipped free from her mouth, strings of saliva and cum snapping between her lips and the red, pulsing head.

She was a mess—Aria’s mess. Her face was flushed, chin and cheeks painted in white, her golden eyes gleaming with awe and hunger. She licked her lips slowly, sensually, cleaning off what she could before letting out a low, satisfied hum. Aria stared at her, dazed, utterly wrecked, as if she were looking at some goddess who had just swallowed her soul.

Leonora nuzzled deeper into Aria’s slick, overstimulated crotch, her ruined, cock-drunk face utterly blissful as she lapped at the thick, glossy rivers of cum that had slithered down the younger girl's twitching balls. Her tongue flicked out with slow, lazy strokes, dragging from the bottom seam to the apex where the skin was tightest, pausing to suck and kiss like it was something sacred. Her palms cradled the swollen orbs with reverence, her thumbs brushing the sensitive skin with affectionate worship. Aria’s shaft remained stubbornly erect, proud and pulsing, defiant of its earlier climax and still radiating heat like a furnace.

Despite the orgasm that had left her breathless minutes before, the inferno in her loins continued to burn with maddening insistence. Her core still clenched with unspent need, the primal voice in her head screaming to breed, to fuck, to claim. But then, through the fog of lust, something flickered—an unfamiliar yet grounding sensation. A sliver of clarity pierced the haze. That weird little pocket of post-nut introspection whispered against her skin, strange and intrusive in its calm.

"Hey, sis," Aria murmured with a breathy, shuddering moan, her voice catching between the waves of aftershock still coursing through her nerves. Each syllable trembled on her tongue, heavy with disbelief and saturated pleasure, her throat raw from moaning too much, too loud. Leonora’s mouth remained latched to her cum-drenched balls, suckling like they were her only source of air, coaxing lingering pulses from the overly sensitive sac with obscene tenderness. Her tongue painted lazy, circular patterns along the taut seam, and Aria could feel each flick deep in her gut, her core still quivering with lingering tension and barely-sated heat.

The words spilled out in a daze, strange and jarringly mundane against the backdrop of animalistic lust and raw need that had just consumed her. Her mind tried to grasp at something logical, something grounding, but it faltered beneath the weight of Leonora’s continued devotion—her mouth still suckling, her fingers trailing reverent paths along the base of her cock as though nothing had changed, as though she hadn't just wrung a climax out of her that shattered reality itself. And yet, despite the haze, despite the absurdity of speaking at all in such a moment, Aria's voice cracked out, tentative, confused, but not ungrateful. "I think we should talk about this."

She hadn’t meant to say it—it had just happened, born of bewilderment and curiosity, laced with a raw vulnerability that trembled just beneath her cum-glazed skin. Because how the hell had this even happened? What kind of sister immediately dropped to her knees and deepthroated her into another dimension just because she was what now? In heat? What exactly did ‘help’ mean in this insane household? Leonora had pounced the moment she saw it—like she’d been waiting. And the way she looked up at Aria now, amber eyes glowing with possessive hunger, made it clear she wasn’t done, not even close.

Leonora didn’t stop. Her mouth remained glued to the heavy sac, her tongue pressing slow, rhythmic circles that made Aria’s spine twitch. The lioness gave a low, possessive growl, the sound vibrating against Aria’s skin like thunder. It wasn’t annoyance—it was promise. A promise that the conversation could wait.

"Later," Leonora said simply, her voice thick with lust and certainty. She tilted her head up, amber eyes burning into Aria’s with raw hunger as she began to lay kisses up the twitching shaft. Each kiss was deliberate, slow, reverent, like worship. Her tongue followed behind, tracing the path with fluid, teasing flicks, as if retracing familiar territory she had no intention of leaving any time soon.

"Okay girls, do you know why we're all here today?" Marielle's voice was light, almost singsong, as she clapped her hands together. Her movement caused her enormous, pendulous cow tits to jiggle with a weighty bounce that seemed to ripple in slow motion. The soft clap of her palms was nothing compared to the hypnotic sway of her breasts—massive, heavy mounds of titflesh that quivered under the thin cotton of her apron, nipples outlined in scandalous relief. Aria’s eyes snapped straight to them, her cock giving a fierce throb that strained her already tented sweatpants. She couldn’t help it. Watching those tits sway, ripple, bounce—it was like they were moving in time with her own lust, pulsing in rhythm with the heat still boiling inside her.

Marielle’s gaze swept over the gathered daughters, her smile warm but knowing. The reason everyone was here, crammed into the dining room around the heavy oak table, was no mystery to any of them. The reason pulsed thick in the air like a fog, filled every breath with the dense, musky scent of heat.

"Aria and her heat," Marielle continued, her voice gentle.

"Yeah yeah, she finally bloomed. Got some wolf ears," Kaelen chimed in, lounging with her usual lazy smirk, arms folded behind her head. She tried to sound indifferent, but Aria didn’t miss the flicker of something else—jealousy, maybe? That quiet edge to her voice when she heard Aria had finally awakened her beast traits. It hadn’t been just the ears, though. Aria’s scent had changed too—richer, more primal, like something that demanded attention.

"Don’t talk it down so much, dear," Marielle chided sweetly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek with fingers that seemed to glow with warmth. "We all know Aria has always dreamed of blooming."

Her eyes lingered on Aria a little longer than necessary, and the way her gaze slid down to the bulge in Aria’s pants sent another pulse through the younger girl’s shaft. She shifted uncomfortably, as if that would somehow calm the heat simmering in her blood.

Liora's cat ears flicked lazily, the tufted tips barely twitching, her jade eyes half-lidded and unfocused as she sniffed the air with a languid, catlike curiosity. Her nose crinkled slightly, the scent of heat and tension lacing the room like perfume. Her tail swayed like a metronome behind her, slow and deliberate, mirroring the way her sharp mind processed every unspoken cue. The teasing curve of her lips betrayed her detachment—she was observing, as always, taking in the storm brewing beneath Aria’s awkward shifting, Leonora’s heated stares, and Kaelen’s prickling hostility. "So what’s it got to do with us?" she asked, voice smooth, unconcerned, yet deceptively loaded with implication.

The question hung in the thick air for only a moment before Marielle responded, voice calm but unmistakably pointed, like a mother about to teach a lesson with a wooden spoon behind her back.

"Well, as you all know, futanari with beast traits can enter heat," she said, enunciating each word with a slow, practiced cadence, her voice soft but commanding like honey poured over steel. It was the tone of a matriarch reining in a fractious herd. The weight of her words made Kaelen scoff, rolling her eyes so hard they practically clicked.

"You should remember that, Kaelen," Marielle added, her eyebrow arching high and her tone sweetly chiding. "Because what did we do when you went into your first heat?"

The room stilled. Kaelen froze mid-lounge, her tail giving a sharp, betraying flick. Aria’s eyes darted between her family, her heart thudding in her chest, blood roaring in her ears, cock twitching with renewed pressure, swollen and eager against her waistband.

"You and Leonora helped me relieve myself, I know, but that doesn't mean Aria gets the same treatment. That's unfair," Kaelen blurted out, her voice sharp with irritation and something darker threading beneath—jealousy, frustration, maybe even insecurity. Her words lacked conviction, and everyone heard it. Her golden eyes avoided Aria’s, lingering instead on the table.

It was a flimsy argument. Everyone knew it. But Kaelen clung to it with the stubborn desperation of someone who hadn’t figured out how to voice what really bothered her. That someone else had stolen the spotlight, the heat, the hunger.

"Hush, young woman," Marielle's tone dropped like velvet over steel, her motherly aura now firm and resolute. "Everyone is equal in this house. And I remember quite clearly that just a few years ago, you were practically begging us to help you during your heat. You were moaning louder than anyone, if I recall." Her words carried the weight of finality, and Kaelen’s ears flicked downward in a clear sign of defeat, her mouth tightening as she sighed, subdued.

"Fine," she huffed with crossed arms, shoulders tense, eyes narrowed, though she didn't argue further.

Liora, lounging lazily against her chair with legs tucked beneath her, broke the tension with a single question: "And how exactly do we help her?" Her voice was light but curious, that sharp glint of mischief already gleaming in her half-lidded eyes.

Before Marielle could even open her mouth, Leonora leaned forward with a smirk tugging at her plush lips, her voice rich with amusement. "Well, what can’t you do? Obviously, sex is ideal—it’s the most effective for someone in heat. But honestly, even just a good blowjob goes a long way. Aria tastes amazing, by the way." The way she said it dripped with pride, like someone who had just claimed a rare prize.

Aria's face flushed hot, her cock twitching in her pants at the raw memory Leonora had casually tossed into the conversation like it was nothing. Her mind flashed with images: Leonora choking on her shaft, lips stretched, tears in her eyes, her lioness throat convulsing with each swallow. She squirmed slightly in her seat, trying to ignore the slick throb of arousal between her legs.

Liora noticed. Of course she did. The cat-girl’s sharp eyes locked onto her instantly, her lips curling upward as she bit gently at the corner in thought. "Oh really?" she purred, voice low, eyes glinting with wicked curiosity. There was already something prowling behind her calm facade—a storm of lazy but intent mischief waiting to pounce.

Marielle, ever the calm mediator, stepped in with a warm but unyielding tone. "Yes, but listen to me clearly. You only do what you're comfortable with. Nobody—nobody—will force anything. Not Aria. Not anyone else. Do you understand?" Her eyes swept the room, grounding them all, setting the house rules without needing to raise her voice.

A few nods followed. And Aria sat frozen in the swell of tension and longing and anticipation, her body still humming from Leonora's earlier affection, her mind caught between guilt, desire, and the strange heat blooming in her core again.

Great," Marielle finally said, her voice a rich, honeyed balm that washed over the room with finality, as no further objections rose. Her gaze, warm yet insistent, settled on Aria, and her tone softened into a velvet coo. "Aria, sweetheart, how are you feeling? Do you need some relief?"

Her words were laced with maternal affection and sensual invitation, and as she moved, those impossibly plush, pendulous cow tits rippled with hypnotic grace. Each subtle shift of her hips sent the twin masses swaying with soft, tantalizing weight beneath her apron, her nipples visibly outlined against the thin fabric like peaks begging to be suckled. Aria's mouth went dry, her breath catching in her throat as she tried—and failed—not to stare.

What was she supposed to say to that? Her heart hammered, her mind tripping over itself. She blinked rapidly, face flushed, the thick scent of her own arousal flooding her senses. "I... I would love that," she managed to stammer out, the words barely audible, trembling on her tongue like forbidden truths.

Marielle's smile in response was tender, indulgent, and faintly mischievous, like a mother hen who'd just caught a chick peeking where she shouldn't—but welcomed it anyway.

Before the moment could deepen, Kaelen’s sharp voice sliced through the air. "Wait, just like that? You’re just gonna ask her?"

She sounded borderline scandalized, her tone dripping with tension and barely concealed frustration. Her tail twitched behind her in short, agitated bursts, and her golden eyes were a little too wide. The rich, thick musk pouring off Aria was clearly affecting her more than she wanted to admit.

Marielle turned toward her with a bemused smile, tilting her head slightly. "Sweetie, don't overcomplicate things. You need some too?"

Kaelen didn’t even hesitate. Her voice cracked through the air with raw hunger. "Yes. Yes, I do. Why don’t I get a blowjob?"

Marielle laughed, low and warm, the sound wrapping around everyone like silk. "Very well then," she said with that same even grace. "Stay right here, and I’ll help you too."

Kaelen opened her mouth to protest—perhaps to clarify, to question, to reel—but nothing came. Before a full Wait, what? could leave her lips, Marielle had already turned to the remaining two.

"How about you girls? Any plans?"

Leonora stretched, her long limbs extending in an elegant display of strength. Her tank top lifted as she reached, exposing a band of chiseled abs that gleamed faintly in the light. She rolled her shoulders with a purring hum. "I already got a taste, remember? And I was planning to hit the gym, so I’ll leave you to it. Have fun."

Marielle nodded with a knowing smile, then turned her gaze to Liora.

Liora, half-slouched and perched sideways in her chair like a bored cat sunbathing on a windowsill, blinked slowly as realization dawned. "Oh, uh... I’ve got some things to do," she muttered, running a hand through her sleep-mussed black hair. Her voice was nonchalant, but the quick flick of her ears betrayed intrigue. She stood smoothly, brushing past Aria with an unmistakably playful wink.

"Have fun, you three," she added as she joined Leonora, their footsteps fading as the two slipped from the room, leaving behind a smoldering air thick with promise and tension.

The door clicked shut.

And the room, for just a moment, held its breath. Then Kaelen stood up, the usual smugness practically dripping from her expression as she stretched with exaggerated ease. "Come here, sis," she purred, her voice laced with mock superiority. "Oh, and please, Aria, don't embarrass yourself too much." Her golden eyes glittered with amusement, but there was a twitch of tension in her smile, a crack in the mask.

Aria’s eyes narrowed, the heat in her blood stoked even higher by Kaelen’s ever-present needling. But her gaze dipped involuntarily, catching on the prominent, twitching bulge in Kaelen’s fitted pants. It was thick, already pressing against the fabric like it couldn’t wait any longer. Kaelen’s cock strained with need, eager and already half-hard, the outline practically obscene. Aria's own cock throbbed in response, her body surging with competitive heat as she stood as well.

“I’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about,” she shot back, lifting her chin defiantly. The tent in her sweatpants was impossible to ignore, stretching the fabric with a heft that made Kaelen’s smirk falter. From even a quick glance, it was clear who was packing more, and Aria saw that flicker of insecurity ripple across Kaelen’s fox-like features. But Kaelen just huffed, ears twitching slightly as she crossed her arms, saying nothing.

Before the tension could crackle any further, Marielle's voice cut in like warm butter. “Now, now, don’t fight, my sweet things,” she cooed with that irresistible maternal purr, stepping forward with grace that made her hips sway and her apron flutter.

In one fluid motion, her fingers danced across the knot at her back, and with a gentle tug, the apron slipped to the floor, her shirt soon following. What she revealed made Aria’s breath hitch audibly.

A massive pair of tits spilled into view—gravity-defying, impossibly perky despite their impossible size. They bounced as they settled, soft and full, capped with large, dusky nipples that jutted with subtle arousal. Aria’s jaw nearly unhinged. She had never seen breasts this large or this perfect before—plump mounds of pure indulgence, heavy with a fullness that made her cock surge with delighted approval. Her shaft throbbed hard, jerking against her pants in a happy pulse that made her hips twitch.

Kaelen’s cock throbbed too, her breath catching as she drank in the sight of their voluptuous caretaker. And as Aria’s gaze drifted over those pendulous cow tits, lingering on the dark, puffy nipples, she saw it—a tiny droplet of milk pearling at the very tip.

“Mom?” Aria breathed, voice thick with arousal and disbelief.

Marielle giggled softly, cupping one heavy breast in each hand, lifting and kneading the fat, warm flesh with practiced ease. “Oh, that’s perfectly normal, sweetie,” she said with casual grace, her fingers teasing a nipple until a bead of milk dripped free and trailed down the soft curve.

“I’m always lactating,” she explained, squeezing the base of her nipple gently, “but when I’m in the presence of someone in heat…” She took a slow, deep inhale, her eyes fluttering slightly as the musky air thickened between them. “…they get a little excited.”

Her eyes sparkled as she stepped forward, breasts swaying hypnotically, each step bringing her luscious body closer to her two visibly aroused daughters. The heat in the room climbed higher with every bounce of her tits, every breath scented with musk and tension. Her presence was magnetic, impossible to ignore, and as she closed the distance, her smile deepened—warm, indulgent, and full of promise.

Aria opened her mouth, perhaps to say something sarcastic to Kaelen or question Marielle’s boldness, but the words dissolved on her tongue as those glorious, gargantuan tits came closer. Kaelen too seemed to forget her retort, golden eyes transfixed on the hypnotic sway of Marielle’s enormous breasts, their fullness swaying like a slow, sensual pendulum. The older woman stepped right between them, her wide hips and matronly confidence parting their tension like a warm breeze. With one slow, deliberate motion, she lifted both massive tits, presenting them like sacred offerings—soft, luscious mounds glistening faintly with perspiration and tipped with swollen, dusky nipples already pearling with milk.

A hush fell over the room. The moment was thick with tension, desire, and reverence. The air itself seemed to hold its breath. Aria felt it first—the undeniable, animal pull toward those breasts. She couldn’t resist, and neither could Kaelen. Both girls leaned forward, hands lifting in synchrony to cradle a breast each, their fingers sinking into the warm, pillowy flesh. Aria’s hands trembled slightly as she hefted the tit toward her face, the weight far more substantial than she expected. The warmth radiated through her palms, and when she gave the taut nipple a tentative lick, her brain short-circuited at the taste.

Then she latched on, her lips sealing over the thick nipple, suckling greedily. Milk rushed into her mouth in a gush of warm, creamy sweetness, the flavor thick, almost intoxicating, like honeyed cream infused with heat and something unmistakably feminine. A deep moan rumbled from her throat, vibrating against Marielle’s breast. It was too good. She suckled harder, more eagerly, eyes fluttering as her mind dissolved into a haze of taste and heat.

Beside her, Kaelen mirrored her actions, lips sealing around the other nipple with a feral kind of hunger, her cheeks hollowing dramatically with each greedy gulp of the rich milk. Her golden eyes rolled back momentarily, a pleased purr vibrating in her throat as the flow thickened, coating her tongue with Marielle’s warm, syrupy sweetness. Each suck came with a muffled moan, and her fluffy fox tail flicked wildly behind her, betraying the throbbing, relentless lust building in her core. Her fox ears twitched with carnal delight, practically trembling with each wave of liquid pleasure.

The milk wasn’t just nourishment—it was addictive. Every pulse from the nipple sent a flush of warmth down her throat, blooming in her stomach and flooding her veins with molten heat. Her hand instinctively sought the hard line of her own cock, stroking the bulge beneath her pants with restless fingers, her need mounting with every swallow. She fed like she was starving, nursing with an obscene rhythm, eyes fluttering half-shut in bliss as she let the taste of Marielle soak into every corner of her tongue.

Marielle let out a sultry, pleased moan, low and thick, her voice a soft, sensual symphony of indulgence. Her arms curled around both girls with motherly tenderness, but her fingers were anything but innocent. They slid downward, gliding between the two futas, fingertips grazing and teasing the throbbing cocks trapped in fabric prisons. She cupped Aria’s bulge with one hand, Kaelen’s with the other, her palms kneading the twin erections with deliberate reverence, her fingers curling possessively around their shapes.

The fabric wasn’t a barrier—it was a canvas, and she traced every contour of heat and hardness beneath it. Aria’s cock jumped at the touch, a low groan escaping her lips around the nipple she suckled. Kaelen moaned into Marielle’s flesh, her hips thrusting subtly into the teasing pressure of that soft, knowing hand. Both girls bucked into her touch instinctively, the reflex primal, raw, and utterly beyond control.

Then Aria felt it—the slow, purposeful tug of her pants slipping past her hips, cool air kissing her thighs as Marielle’s hands worked with practiced ease. Her heart thudded in her chest, her suckling faltering for a split second before resuming with even more fervor. Her cock sprang free with a lewd bounce, monstrous and glistening, veined and thick, the knot already visibly swollen and tight at the base. The weight of her heavy balls swayed low, pendulous and aching with heat, and thick, lazy strands of precum oozed from her tip in a glossy spill that left no doubt of her need.

"Oh my," Marielle purred, her tone dripping with mischief and awe as her eyes roamed over the unveiled wolf cock, her voice a silky caress. "What a magnificent thing you’ve bloomed into, Aria…" She leaned in, her breath hot and intimate, the scent of milk and musk blending between them.

Kaelen’s eyes flicked toward the beast Aria had unleashed, a spark of shock mingling with challenge flashing across her flushed features. Even with her lips latched around Marielle’s nipple, her tongue still swirling with greedy licks, her gaze screamed one thing—this wasn’t over. Her competitive streak had just been ignited, and she wasn’t about to let herself be outdone.

The air around them grew impossibly thick, cloying and musky with the primal scent of Aria's heat. The fire that had first flared under Leonora's touch now surged back tenfold, and the aroma that pulsed off her body in heady waves was no longer just a faint tinge but a full, feral onslaught of pheromones that filled every corner of the room. With her pants gone and her monstrous cock bobbing proudly in the open, the full force of her scent broke free like a storm, lashing into the lungs of everyone around her. Both Marielle and Kaelen inhaled sharply—Kaelen’s golden eyes dilated with startled hunger, and Marielle’s breath hitched as her nostrils flared, her soft lips parting in quiet awe.

Then Marielle's hand—warm, strong, and impossibly skilled—curled around Aria's cock with reverent hunger, like she was greeting an old lover she hadn't touched in far too long. Her palm was soft yet commanding, sliding over the burning heat of Aria’s shaft with a grip that trembled with both restraint and yearning. Her fingers could barely stretch around the girth, struggling to span the pulsing width, but that didn’t stop her from trying; each attempt a wordless testament to how much she wanted it. The second she made contact, Aria’s breath stuttered into a high-pitched moan that sounded like it had been torn from the very center of her soul. Her body jerked, hips twitching against their own will, her chest arching into the pillowy softness of Marielle’s pendulous breasts. Her breath fogged the underside of those heavy tits with every gasping exhale, her lips dragging heat across supple skin as her hips bucked like an animal in heat.

That hand began to stroke—slow, deliberate, unrelenting—each upward drag a study in tension, twisting just enough to scrape Aria’s senses raw with pleasure. Her palm curled at the top of each glide, milking the swollen, vein-ridged shaft with the kind of pressure that felt honed by years of intimate experience. Her rhythm was maddening: not fast enough to push Aria over, but not gentle enough to allow her mind to gather itself. It was a crescendo built on the edge of control, a tease just barely this side of torture. Every downward pull wrung more precum from the tip, thick and creamy like melted sugar, spilling over Marielle’s knuckles in syrupy ropes.

Marielle didn’t waste a drop—no, she relished it. Her thumb smeared the slickness up along the shaft, circling the crown, tracing the sensitive slit with obscene reverence. She worked the fluid like a lubricant, spreading it across every inch until Aria’s cock gleamed like a monument to lust. Her strokes began to quicken, just slightly, her grip tightening in the right places, just enough to make Aria moan deep and animalistic. The younger girl’s hips surged forward, helplessly rutting into that soft, wet heat like she was on fire, like her body had been born for this rhythm, for this friction. Each pump made her cock jerk violently, her thick knot twitching as it swelled, her balls drawing up with a tightness that sent white noise buzzing through her ears. Her hands clenched uselessly at the sheets, fingers spasming as she surrendered entirely to the expertly drawn crescendo Marielle was crafting with every stroke. She couldn’t stop it—Aria’s body moved on its own, a beast of muscle and hunger thrusting raggedly into the silken vice of Marielle’s palm, as if release could save her from drowning in this heat.

But just as quickly, that expert hand gripped hard—an unspoken command that brought Aria’s hips to a quivering halt. She gasped, her cock jerking with frustrated need, her body shaking with restraint as Marielle looked down at her with calm, maternal dominance. "Easy there," she murmured, her tone syrupy sweet but firm as steel. "There’s no rush, sweetheart. Let me take care of you properly."

Kaelen snickered, her breath shallow with barely restrained need, her eyes darting between Aria's flushed face and the throbbing cock twitching in Marielle’s grip. "Already that close, sis? Really? You’ve gotta have more stamina than that. Or is this heat thing just that intense for you?" Her voice was mocking, but the way her thighs pressed together betrayed her own arousal.

Marielle, ever the peacekeeper, didn’t let Aria try to answer through the fog of mind-melting pleasure. Her smile was indulgent as she chuckled. "I don't remember you having much self-control either, Kaelen, when you were in heat." Her voice carried a teasing lilt as she slowly pulled back, easing her tits just far enough that her nipples popped free from their greedy mouths with an audible pop, glistening and swollen, leaving trails of milk across both girls' cheeks. The brief absence of contact made Aria whimper, her shaft flexing in Marielle’s hand.

With a sultry gleam lighting up her eyes, Marielle descended slowly to her knees, every inch of her motion soaked in that sacred, reverent hunger only she could wear like silk. Two monstrous erections now towered before her—thick, twitching, leaking monuments to raw, unfiltered need. Her gaze flitted between them with open admiration, her breath hitching slightly as the heavy scent of lust filled her lungs. Aria glanced sideways at Kaelen’s cock, thick and veined and already drooling slick down its curved length, a proud ten inches of eager human meat—but her eyes couldn’t help flick back to her own shaft. Hers was a beast of another breed entirely: longer, heavier, more primal. A towering, veiny wolf cock that dwarfed her sister’s proud length with sheer mass, crowned with a flared tip that throbbed with need, her knot already starting to swell at its base like a promise yet unclaimed.

Marielle purred in approval, her hands wrapping around both shafts—Kaelen’s slipping easily into her palm, while Aria’s monster cock would required both hands to even attempt to manage the girth. She cooed something unintelligible as she slapped the two heavy, drooling cocks onto her flushed cheeks, letting their hot weight press down on her face with shameless glee. Her skin glistened with a mix of sweat and precum as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, as though savoring the blend of pheromones and want that poured off Aria in waves.

She began her worship with Kaelen’s shaft, lips brushing the side, tongue flicking along the underside like she was tasting a fine wine. Her motions were delicate at first—teasing, savoring—but soon her mouth was working hungrily, coating Kaelen’s length with slick spit, suckling the head just enough to milk a fat bead of precum that she swallowed with a satisfied hum. Then her focus shifted—Aria's cock loomed beside it like a shadow.

With reverence, she kissed the drooling tip, her lips barely grazing the slick crown as a fat, hot strand of pre spilled directly onto her tongue. She moaned at the taste, eyes fluttering, and began dragging her tongue up the length with deliberate, worshipful licks, slow and wet, each motion gathering slick and heat as she painted the shaft with saliva. She alternated between them, wet, hungry kisses peppered across their shafts, her cheeks flushed, her tits bouncing with every shift of her body as she worshiped the two beasts like a devout priestess.

Aria’s hips twitched, the sensations overwhelming—each flick of Marielle’s tongue sent shockwaves through her body, her muscles tightening in waves of clenching hunger. Her heat roared back to life with feral intensity, an aching pressure in her core building with every breath. The musk pouring from her shaft thickened in the humid air, wrapping around Marielle like a second skin. Aria couldn’t stop the gentle roll of her hips, each motion a desperate plea for more, her breath hitching in needy, broken gasps. Her fingers clenched at her sides, the need clawing at her nerves.

Fuck… she’s going to make me cum just from licking, she thought wildly, the heat in her loins threatening to consume her. She wanted it—no, she craved it—Marielle’s lips around her shaft, her throat stretched tight around the girth, that warm, perfect mouth swallowing her down to the knot. Her whole body trembled at the thought, her heart pounding, her breath catching on the edge of a moan as Marielle’s tongue flicked just beneath her crown again, right where her nerves were screaming for contact.

Marielle paused, glancing up with milk-warm eyes that twinkled with mischief. “You taste divine, sweetheart,” she purred. “So much... and we’ve only just started.”

The moment blurred into a feverish, desperate cyclone of heat and hunger, Marielle’s mouth a relentless whirlwind of adoration, her motions no longer measured but manic with need. Her lips, plump and glistening, clung to whichever cock throbbed closest, her mouth stretched indecently wide around veiny, drooling shafts as she gave herself over completely to her sacred task. She was insatiable—tongue whipping and curling, tracing every ridge and vein with the same reverence a sculptor might show to her masterpiece, spit gluing her chin to her collarbones in viscous strings. Her throat was slick and welcoming, working like a piston as she plunged deeper and deeper, her sounds raw, guttural, obscene.

Each wet slurp echoed loud in the small space, bouncing off flesh and breath and moans like the chorus of a blasphemous hymn. Her cheeks hollowed dramatically around Kaelen’s cock one moment, making the foxgirl groan above her and buck involuntarily, then puffed wide as she dared to take the flared crown of Aria’s monster in next, her jaw pushed nearly to its limit. Both cocks glistened with her saliva, smeared and pooled across their lengths in glossy trails that dripped down her tits and thighs, soaking the mat beneath her. Her hands jerked along the shafts in opposing rhythm, determined to give each girl their due, each touch a spark that only fed their frenzied rutting.

Her tongue danced from base to tip, smearing precum in slick spirals, her lips trembling with each pass. She moaned around the girth, the sound bubbling deep in her throat, harmonizing with the pulse of need that beat like a drum through the room. She wasn’t just sucking them off—she was worshipping them, relishing every taste, every twitch, every shudder of the thick shafts she tried to tame. Her mouth, her throat, her spit—all of it belonged to them in that moment. She welcomed it. She reveled in it.

Aria could barely think over the roar in her ears, her vision narrowing to just the sight of Marielle’s lips stretched obscenely around cock. She could feel the way her knot throbbed against the woman’s chin, demanding to be stuffed deeper. Her heat crackled up her spine, turning her body into a furnace of need, her belly tight with that sweet agony of denied orgasm, of primal lust curling tighter and tighter like a whip about to snap. Every muscle in her body wanted to rut. To breed. To conquer.

And Marielle was giving her the opening.

Kaelen groaned above her, hips jerking forward with impatience, her cock pulsing hard as she barked, “Suck it.” Her voice was ragged, fogged with heat and dominance, golden eyes wild and dilated, drunk on pheromones and lust. Her shaft twitched visibly, slick with saliva and glistening precum, throbbing at the attention it received—but it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed to claim that mouth.

But Aria wasn’t about to let her win so easily. Her hips surged forward, colliding against Kaelen’s as she growled, “No. Me first.” Her voice cracked with raw need, her brown eyes wide with desperation. Her breath hitched as Marielle’s tongue flicked under her swollen crown again, and she whimpered, “Please…” the word spilling from her lips, soaked in hunger, humiliation, and longing. Her cock twitched violently, her knot throbbing against Marielle’s chin, the heat making her vision blur. She felt like she’d explode if she didn’t bury herself somewhere—deep, wet, tight.

Marielle, devoted and unflinching, kept working both cocks with relentless care—her hands stroking in perfect rhythm, her mouth switching from one glistening head to the other, tasting them both, coaxing more precum with every worshipful flick of her tongue. But the tension was spiraling—both girls were rutting forward, thrusting as if trying to claim her throat by force, their bodies boiling over with pent-up heat. The silent challenge between them escalated: whose cock would dominate that mouth, whose pleasure would come first?

And then—

A sharp jolt of instinct stabbed through Aria’s haze. Her body screamed not just for relief—but for release. Her heat wasn’t just about climax. It was about breeding. About spreading her seed. About fucking a hole made for her.

Her eyes snapped downward, catching the soft swell of Marielle’s hips, her plush curves kneeling right before her—ripe, ready, open. Her cock throbbed with savage glee at the thought, jerking violently at the mental image of driving into that fertile cunt, knot swelling, hips slamming home as she emptied herself inside.

In the moment of realization, her breath hitched—and Kaelen struck.

With a growl, the foxgirl lunged forward, her hips thrusting hard. Her cock shoved past Marielle’s lips with a wet smack, burying half her slick length in the waiting mouth. Marielle moaned around the intrusion, her throat instinctively swallowing the thick girth, even as her hands twitched in surprise. She tried to pull back—but Aria didn’t fight it. Instead, she stepped back, a wicked grin curling on her lips.

She would let Kaelen have the mouth.

Because Aria had her eyes on the real prize.

“Already giving up, sis?” Kaelen sneered with victorious arrogance, her fox ears twitching smugly as Aria took a step back. Her amber eyes glittered with dominance as she watched Marielle commit fully to her shaft, lips parting hungrily around the drooling tip. The older woman moaned shamelessly, her throat flexing as she pushed deeper, her hands steadying against Kaelen’s hips while her mouth swallowed inch after inch of twitching human cock. Kaelen groaned low in her throat, hips stuttering forward as her length was engulfed. She savored it, the wet glide of Marielle’s throat, the way the older woman slurped at her with lust-drunk eagerness.

But Aria wasn’t done. Not even close.

“Who says I’m giving up?” she purred, voice molten with wicked confidence, every syllable rolling off her tongue like honey laced with venom. Her grin was feral, teeth flashing in the dim light as she stalked behind Marielle with the presence of a predator finally letting herself hunt. Each barefoot step was heavy, deliberate, echoing with a new kind of power that thrilled in her veins—the strength of a wolf no longer caged.

Her hands slid low around Marielle’s waist, fingers splaying against the older woman’s hips like she was claiming her. And then, without hesitation, Aria bent down, muscles taut beneath her shirt, her breath a growl in her throat—then lifted, hoisting Marielle like she weighed nothing more than a pillow.

“What—?!” Kaelen gasped, her moan cracking with shock as her cock was buried deeper than she expected. Her hips hitched reflexively as Marielle gagged around the sudden force, throat convulsing, but not pulling away. Aria’s biceps bulged, her stance wide and steady as she handled the weight of her curvaceous mother with raw, carnal grace. This wasn’t the quiet, reserved Aria of yesterday. This was the beast in her unleashed—an apex bitch in heat, drunk on power, rutting need, and the delicious surrender in the air.

She moved Marielle like she was made for this—cradling her, guiding her, offering her to the table as if presenting a feast. The way she laid her down, slow but firm, made Kaelen shudder, her fox ears twitching from sensory overload. Marielle was still latched to her shaft, her cheeks bulging and lips stretched around thick cock as she moaned around the intrusion. Kaelen barely held on, her knees locking as she stepped with them, refusing to let that wet, perfect mouth free.

Marielle’s head now dangled perfectly off the edge, lips parted wide as Kaelen’s shaft thrust into her with obscene squelches, her throat wet and twitching, the slick sounds of sucking wrapping around the room. Kaelen grabbed the table, eyes fluttering as she sank inch by inch, her shaft vanishing into that stretched, devoted throat. She could see her outline in Marielle’s neck, a bulge moving with every inch taken, every pulse of her cock.

But Aria wasn’t paying attention to any of that.

Her gaze had locked lower. Her breath hitched as she stared down between those parted thighs—the real treasure glistening before her like a sacred altar. Marielle’s thick thighs parted beneath her hands with ease, her fingers sinking into soft, pliant flesh. The older woman’s pants were soaked through, clinging to her like a second skin, already darkened with arousal. Aria didn’t hesitate. Her fingers shredded the fabric with brutal precision, tearing them aside to expose the glorious treasure hidden beneath.

That cunt was soaked—glimmering with need, the folds puffy and flushed, practically winking at her. Slick dripped in fat trails down her thighs, the scent hitting Aria like a drug. Her vision tunneled, and her cock responded with a violent jerk, leaking freely, smearing hot pre across Marielle’s inner thighs as she loomed over her.

Mine, Aria thought, the word a growl in her brain. Her heat pounded in her chest like war drums, her whole body trembling with restraint she barely held. This wasn’t just want—it was instinct. She needed to breed. Her blood demanded it, her shaft a beast gnashing its teeth for release.

With one hand braced upon Marielle’s stomach and the other gripping her hip, Aria aligned herself with that soaked, needy slit. Her breath shook, her vision blurred, and the only thing she could see was that perfect, gaping hole meant to be filled. Her hips twitched forward, just enough to let her head press against the entrance, heat radiating between them as her shaft drooled thickly.

“That’s so unfair,” Kaelen whined, her voice warbling with a cracked moan as Marielle gagged sweetly around her cock. The woman’s throat bulged as Kaelen pushed forward, each inch feeding into that tight tunnel of muscle that squeezed and fluttered in reaction, pulsing with obscene pressure. Marielle’s fingers gripped Kaelen’s hips with surprising force, nails digging into supple skin as she forced her down, burying the full ten inches in her throat with hungry abandon. Kaelen hissed a curse, her head rolling back, ears twitching wildly as the warm, swallowing mouth milked her shaft in waves.

“My cock’s better in that cunt anyway,” Aria spat with a possessive snarl, her voice thick with pride and heat. Kaelen barked a laugh between gasps, “As if—” but the words melted into a breathless whimper as Marielle swallowed again, wet gulps echoing loud.

Aria didn’t linger on the banter. Her gaze was glued to the slick, glistening lips spread before her, and the fat, swollen crown of her cock pulsed with urgency as it kissed the flushed entrance. Her tip drooled thick, creamy pre—more a steady stream than beads now—coating Marielle’s slit, painting her folds until they shimmered in the low light. Then, with a hiss of breath through her teeth, Aria pushed.

The heat hit her like a punch to the gut. That wet, spasming cunt hugged her immediately, the walls gripping her cock like a fist made of velvet heat. Her eyes rolled back, a guttural moan ripped free as her knees buckled slightly. The first inch alone nearly made her cum—Marielle’s body clenched so tight around her that it was like the older woman’s pussy had memorized her shape and wanted to trap her there forever.

“F-fuck—” Aria choked, biting down hard on the whimper that clawed its way up her throat as her hips surged forward, driven by sheer instinct and roaring need. Her hands slammed into Marielle’s hips, grabbing soft flesh with a hunger so fierce it bordered on savage, her fingers sinking in as if trying to mold that wide ass into something she could keep. Inch by glorious inch, her veined shaft disappeared into that ravenous, welcoming cunt, the heat swallowing her whole. Each thrust forward drew out wet, obscene shlks, the kind that echoed loud and sticky in the humid air, barely muffling the breathless, gurgling moans around Kaelen’s cock.

She wanted to take her time. Aria wanted to feel the way Marielle’s walls rippled and clenched, adjusting around her girth, the heat and slickness conforming to every vein, every contour of her cock. She wanted to savor it. But her instincts screamed louder. The scent of soaked pussy, the heady musk of desire, the way her cock felt like it was being milked by pure muscle—it shattered her restraint. Her hips moved like they had a mind of their own, ramming forward in ragged bursts, stuffing her shaft deeper into that divine sheath.

Marielle was hot, soaked, tight—her cunt clamped down around Aria like it never wanted to let go. Every inch fed into her with growing desperation, the tight tunnel pulling and squeezing, practically drinking her in. By the time Aria bottomed out, a wet, needy slap echoed off the walls, her knot slapping greedily against the puffy lips of Marielle’s stretched pussy. It pulsed, bulged—nearly ready to push in, but not yet.

And beneath her, Marielle shuddered—every nerve firing at once, overwhelmed and split open with pleasure. Her throat bulged obscenely around Kaelen’s shaft, drool bubbling at the corners of her stretched lips, her gagging sounds turning sloppier with every thrust. But she didn’t back away—she pushed into it, her body trembling with arousal as she gave herself fully to the double penetration. Her moans vibrated around Kaelen’s cock, making the foxgirl hiss through her teeth, her tail bristling behind her as her own orgasm climbed fast.

Aria was lost in the slick grip of that cunt, the feel of Marielle’s body clenching and spasming around her length like it was made to take her. Every squeeze, every ripple felt like a direct attack on her control, like her cock was being worshipped with every ripple of muscle. Her moans turned hoarse as the tight heat dragged over every inch of her shaft, each pulse and contraction shooting lightning straight up her spine. Her fingers dug deeper into the woman’s hips, thumbs brushing the swell of her ass as she growled low in her throat, hips pulling back in a glistening draw that glimmered with thick slick, before ramming forward again with punishing, breath-stealing force.

Every slam of her hips sent fresh shudders through Marielle’s body, each collision a wet, needy smack of skin on skin that echoed off the walls. The older woman’s body jerked slightly with every thrust, her muscles clenching and fluttering like her pussy couldn’t decide whether to fight it or milk it dry. Kaelen moaned louder, hips jostling as the table rocked beneath the sheer weight of Aria’s pounding, and her cock pushed deeper down Marielle’s swallowing throat.

Aria could feel her knot starting to swell, throbbing with desperate rhythm, grinding against Marielle’s soaked lips like it was testing her limits, pulsing in anticipation. The swollen bulb kissed the entrance again and again, spreading those puffy folds just a little wider with every thrust, threatening to lock them together. The idea alone—of tying her down, of plugging her up and breeding her like she was meant for it—made Aria’s whole body jerk, her breath catching, her cock twitching violently. A burst of precum splashed out with a slick, messy squelch, slicking the already-glazed tunnel in hot wet heat.

Marielle moaned deeply around Kaelen’s cock, the sound gurgling through her stuffed throat, her hips twitching as if her body felt the change—felt the knot press insistently and welcomed it. Her pussy flexed wildly, each contraction a cry of yes, each pulse a plea to be filled, tied, and bred. Her cunt was maddeningly tight, impossibly wet, practically tugging Aria deeper every time she tried to pull back, as if trying to suck the knot inside and never let it leave.

Kaelen groaned above her, sweat dripping down her chest as her cock throbbed in Marielle’s throat, watching her sister rut with manic, unstoppable need. Her hands gripped the table harder, knuckles white, thighs shaking as she felt the vibrations of Aria’s hips slam into Marielle’s backside echo up through the older woman’s spine.

Marielle was a mess—a drooling, choking, cum-slicked toy of pleasure, her body stretched and filled from both ends, used with reverence and fury. Her tits jiggled with every thrust, her nipples hard and leaking, thighs trembling under the dual assault. Her hair was a damp halo clinging to her flushed skin, and every breath she took was shared between whimpers and gasps around Kaelen’s cock.

With every savage slam forward, Aria could feel Marielle’s walls yielding—just a little more each time, those swollen lips spreading wider to kiss the ever-thickening base of her shaft. Her knot, now massive and throbbing with urgency, pushed harder and deeper, nearly breaching, nearly claiming. But not yet. That slick cunt was gripping her like a vice, but still refused to fully open up around that fat, breeding bulb—and Aria wasn’t having it. She wanted to be locked in. Needed to. Her hips snapped forward with renewed ferocity, the sound of each collision wet and punishing, obscene. Every time her knot slammed into Marielle’s soaked folds, her body bounced from the sheer force—those thunderous thighs jiggled, that pillowy stomach quivered, and her tits… fuck, her tits.

They danced with every thrust, fat and full and pouring, thick creamy streams of milk trickling from stiffened nipples. Each bounce of those obscene cow tits sent ripples down Marielle’s heavy frame, jiggling like obscene offerings with every slam of Aria’s hips. Aria’s eyes devoured the sight—those lewd, leaking breasts moving in hypnotic rhythm, milk streaming in rhythmic pulses that splashed onto the floor in pearly arcs. Her cock throbbed harder at every bounce, at every glistening drop that spilled down Marielle’s body. It wasn’t just hot—it was sacred, in the filthiest, most glorious way.

She couldn’t tear her gaze away, mouth parted in dumb, overwhelmed awe, the hypnotic sway of Marielle’s milk-heavy tits dragging her deeper into lust. Her vision tunneled around the way they collided, slapped against each other, sloshed, with every pump of her hips. "Gods, they look so fucking good," she moaned aloud, voice cracking under the weight of her heat, her words bubbling like steam off boiling water. Her chest burned, her heart pounded, her balls drew tight with the unbearable pressure of delayed release.

Kaelen’s voice joined hers in ragged agreement, breathless and hoarse, each word a desperate hymn. “Fuck, fuck—yes—make those tits bounce—” she gasped, her golden eyes fixed on the way Aria’s thrusts sent milk spraying with every impact. Her hips pushed her cock deeper into Marielle’s gurgling throat, and the older woman took it like a divine punishment—gagging, sputtering, but never pulling away. Her throat bulged around the thick shaft, saliva spilling in fat bubbles from her lips, dribbling down to mix with the milk already coating her heaving chest.

Marielle was a blessed wreck, caught between two beasts, her holes stretched and used, her entire body reduced to a pulsing, quivering vessel of worship and pleasure. The air around her shimmered with heat and sweat and need. Her moans vibrated up Kaelen’s shaft, a wet, guttural hum that sent the foxgirl stumbling, her knees buckling slightly.

Aria and Kaelen’s eyes locked—fox and wolf caught mid-rut, wild and feral and consumed. There was no pride left, no teasing banter—just raw, panting desperation. They were animals now, thrusting with synchronized savagery, their hips clapping into soft flesh with vicious rhythm. Marielle moaned around Kaelen’s cock, her throat spasming as her cunt clutched tighter with every impact, every wave of pleasure that blasted through her wrecked, pleasure-bloated form. Her entire body shook as it was played like an instrument, and she sang—a gurgling, milk-slicked aria of depraved, sacred bliss.

“You can’t be serious,” Kaelen groaned, her voice rough and needy, barely holding herself back.

“What?” Aria gasped, her breath heaving, her voice trembling.

“Get that fucking knot in her already. You’re teasing even me now.” Kaelen’s moan ended with a desperate edge that cut through the haze, and Aria felt it too. That deep, aching need. The knot wasn’t just a goal. It was a claim. A lock. A mark of ownership.

Aria snarled and obeyed. She threw everything she had into the next thrust, muscles screaming, sweat flying from her brow in droplets as her hips bucked forward with savage, animalistic force. Her whole body lunged with instinctual determination, and when her knot hit the slick, swollen lips of Marielle’s cunt, it slammed forward—and popped inside with a wet, obscene squelch that echoed like thunder.

Marielle screamed around Kaelen’s cock, her voice muffled by thick meat but still vibrating through every inch of the foxgirl’s shaft. Her body convulsed violently, back arching off the table, fingers clawing blindly for something—anything—to hold onto. Her pussy clamped down like a vice, stretched to an unnatural, obscene diameter around that fat bulb, locking down hard with trembling finality.

Aria’s entire body went rigid. Her back arched with feral intensity, spine curving like a bowstring ready to snap. A tidal wave of pure, animalistic bliss detonated through her belly, lighting every nerve on fire. Her eyes rolled back until only whites showed, her jaw slack as a strangled moan tore free, half howl, half sob of ecstasy. Her cock pulsed inside that divine cunt like it had a heartbeat of its own, every throb firing lightning through her core. But it was her knot—that swollen, ultra-sensitive nerve bundle wedged tight inside velvet muscle—that reduced her to a twitching, broken mess. It was like fucking a furnace lined in silk and made to milk her dry.

Her body convulsed uncontrollably, thighs trembling, hips jerking, her hands digging into Marielle’s hips with bruising force as she rode out the spike of pleasure. The knot sealed them together, locked them in a bond of heat and sweat and writhing flesh. She could feel it—how the tight walls around her spasmed, flexed, milked her with rhythmic desperation. It was like Marielle’s pussy had become a living pump, coaxing every drop of seed from her twitching shaft.

That grip—gods, that grip—was absolute. It refused to let go, refused to let her pull back. Aria felt trapped in the best way possible, trapped in slick, clenching heat, her cock hugged by spasming muscle that wanted nothing more than to drink her. She groaned as the first heavy pulse of her orgasm finally ripped through her.

And when it hit—it hit like the fury of a thousand suns. Cum detonated from her in a primal, frenzied surge, her cock spasming uncontrollably, bucking like a livewire plugged into the raw current of her heat. Thick, ropy jets of cum burst out with violent insistence, pounding Marielle’s stretched, welcoming womb with obscene intensity. Each pump was a slap of heat, a slap of lust, a thunderous splash of virile, sticky seed, flooding her deeper with every passing second. Aria’s body seized up, her back arching, her toes curling, as the unbearable tightness in her gut unleashed itself with feral triumph. Her breath vanished in broken gasps as each explosive spurt wracked her frame.

Her stomach clenched, again and again, riding the orgasm in relentless waves—each wave higher, more brutal, more soul-ripping than the last. Her knot, now fully bloated and impossibly sensitive, was jammed deep inside Marielle, locking them together in a sacred, filthy union. That knot wasn’t just sealing her in—it was forcing her seed to stay, to marinate, to claim. Every twitch of Marielle’s walls sent another pulse screaming through Aria, another shot of honey-thick cum gushing deep, drowning that womb in her essence. It poured out in powerful, shuddering volleys, so thick it felt like hot syrup pumping into a sponge, saturating every fold of flesh.

And it wouldn’t stop. Every time she thought the last rope had fired, another contraction wrung her shaft, milked her knot, and triggered another involuntary explosion. Aria’s body was locked in climax, muscles jumping, throat hoarse with groans that came out as helpless mewls of overstimulated bliss. Her nails dug into Marielle’s skin as her hips rocked with each new pulse, cock twitching with demonic persistence. It lasted forever—a minute? Two? She didn’t know—time had vanished, replaced only by sensation. Her world collapsed into heat, tightness, and cum.

Marielle’s body swelled with it, her belly puffing slightly from the sheer volume, the seal of the knot ensuring not a single drop leaked free. Cum struggled for space, sloshing audibly inside her as she gurgled around Kaelen’s shaft. Aria finally collapsed forward, her strength obliterated, arms giving out as she fell into Marielle’s soft, cum-warmed body. Her face buried into those massive, leaking tits, the warm milk soaking her cheeks and hair as she panted against the pillowy flesh, dazed and delirious.

"Holy shit," Kaelen whispered, eyes wide, her hand limp on the table as she blinked in disbelief. She’d seen it all—every drop, every tremble, every throb. Aria barely heard her, barely registered anything except the pounding of her heart, the twitching of her spent cock, and the soft warmth of Marielle’s body cradling her. Her mind spun uselessly—had Kaelen cum? Had Marielle? Did it matter? All she knew was the softness, the warmth, the rhythm of milk-slick breathing, and the perfect curve of cleavage that cradled her like home.

After what felt like eternity yet somehow just a fleeting moment, the rush of orgasmic haze slowly ebbed from Aria's limbs, and awareness returned like warmth trickling into frozen fingers. Her body trembled as she tried to lift herself, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven gasps. She shifted instinctively, only to find herself still utterly lodged—her thick, pulsing knot swollen and nestled deep in Marielle’s convulsing, cum-filled cunt. The walls still gripped her with rhythmic contractions, milking every lingering throb, the intense wet heat sending sparks of oversensitive pleasure licking up her spine.

She groaned, only barely able to rock her hips a fraction, the movement making her cock twitch violently as it stirred the slurry of seed trapped inside her partner. Her shaft remained stiff, twitching from deep-rooted sensitivity, every nerve in her knot screaming at the contact, even the smallest tug sending sparks racing up her spine. Sweat coated her back in a glistening sheen, and her thighs trembled from the exertion, her body still locked in primal post-climax tremors.

Her gaze, blurry and dazed, crawled upward. Marielle’s face was a picture of glorious ruin—eyes half-lidded in bliss, her expression soft and drunk with satisfaction. Her flushed skin glistened with a mosaic of spit and fat, ropy strings of cum, splattered messily across her cheeks, her chin, even caught in her lashes. Tears clung to the corners of her eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer force of pleasure—the kind of fucked-raw euphoria that left nothing untouched, nothing unmarked.

Kaelen stood nearby, her breath uneven, her body still humming with denial. Her cock, still hard and coated with smeared saliva and flecks of lingering cum, throbbed stubbornly. Her eyes were locked on Aria with a curious sort of heat, not mocking for once, but fascinated, turned on. "Felt that good?" she asked, voice low, amused, yet tinged with something more primal, more raw. Her golden eyes sparkled with teasing interest.

Aria tried to answer, but her voice came out as a ragged gasp, words barely shaped by her heaving breath. "Y-Yeah... fuck, my knot’s so sensitive—it’s… it’s weird, I can feel everything."

Marielle let out a soft hum, reaching up with a gentleness that contrasted the carnal wreckage of her body. She tucked a damp strand of hair behind Aria’s ear, her fingertips grazing her cheek with maternal fondness. "You’ll get used to it, darling," she said in that ever-calm, nurturing tone, even as thick globs of cum slowly dripped from her chin. Her palm lingered at Aria’s temple, brushing gently. "That was a very promising start. But if we want to manage that heat of yours... we’ve still got some work to do." Her smile turned sly, a little wicked, as her eyes flicked between Aria and Kaelen. She patted Aria’s head like a well-behaved pup, utterly unfazed by the fact that she’d just been stuffed, fucked, and spit roasted into utter ruin—and very clearly, she was ready for more.

Everything was hot—blistering, fevered, untamed. Every nerve in Aria's body sang with heat, each vein pulsing with liquid fire that left her trembling even in sleep. It wasn’t just warmth; it was a suffocating, consuming blaze that wrapped around her from the inside out. Even the golden morning light filtering through the curtains, brushing over her sweat-slick skin like a kiss from the sun itself, felt cold in comparison. She writhed beneath her sheets, her thighs sticky, her breath ragged in the heavy air. Her body rebelled against rest, each twist of her hips a silent cry for touch, stimulation, relief.

The source of her torment lay in the obscene weight between her legs. Her cock—thick, veined, and monstrous—throbbed with relentless demand. It was iron-hard, twitching with its own heartbeat, every pulse a burst of ache that ran up her spine. Even after yesterday. Even after Leonora had taken her in those strong, unforgiving arms, and Marielle had worshipped her like a holy relic—still, it wasn’t enough. Her heat was back, stronger, crueler. It felt like a burn without pain, a fever that fed on pleasure. It left her soaked, dripping, her mind fogged with unfulfilled hunger. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cum. She wanted to bury herself in anything warm, wet, and willing. And her cock knew it—demanded it—twitching violently, drooling onto her belly.

A groan escaped her parted lips, hips grinding up into the air like her body hoped someone would just appear to ride her. But the sheets clung to her thighs, and her pulse pounded deafening in her ears. With a frustrated growl, she flung an arm over her face, trying to will the need away. It didn’t work.

Her eyes cracked open at last, the ceiling of her room swimming into focus through the haze of morning sweat and musk. She blinked slowly, disoriented. Her nose twitched. The air was thick with scent—hers. It clung to every corner of the room, heavier than yesterday, cloying and humid. Pheromones curled into her lungs, dizzying her, making her vision swim. “Did it get worse?” she muttered aloud, barely aware she’d spoken, her voice low and hoarse with sleep and arousal.

“Yes it got worse.”

The words came from somewhere dangerously close. That familiar, lazy drawl, honey-laced with amusement and something far darker. It was soft, teasing, but carried a breathless edge, like the speaker had been watching, breathing in the heavy scent.

Aria’s eyes snapped wide. Her body jerked upright in panic, cock bobbing and throbbing between her legs as her gaze scrambled to find the source.

Liora.

She was sprawled—smugly—between Aria’s spread legs, propped on her elbows, her petite frame lounging as if this was the most natural thing in the world. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, ears perked in satisfaction. Her long black hair was a tousled mess, and her green eyes gleamed with predatory glee.

And right in front of her was Aria’s cock—a towering monument of slick, pulsating want, thick as her wrist and crowned with a fat, swollen canine tip that drooled syrupy strands of golden precum. The honey-thick ropes spilled over her length like molten silk, trailing down the ridged, twitching shaft in glistening lines that smeared across the base and soaked into the trembling, overstuffed swell of her knot. That knot—obscene, bloated, and throbbing with pressure—threatened to split anything foolish enough to take it. Below, her balls were a pair of heavy, swollen orbs—cum-laden and engorged with lust, so taut they looked ready to burst with every pulse of her shaft.

Her cock gave a savage, involuntary jerk, slapping lightly against her belly with a slick sound that made her bite down on her lip. It was a desperate, instinctual betrayal of control, her body broadcasting its need with zero shame. Heat coiled in her gut like a live wire, her breath catching on the edge of a growl. She could feel the pulse of her own hunger radiating through her cock—so vivid, so angry that it almost hurt. Her muscles tensed as her voice cracked out, too hoarse, too needy to be convincing: “What the fuck are you doing here?” she hissed, trying for annoyed, but it came out wrong—wet, sultry, aching. Her tone dripped with more heat than venom, each word vibrating with restrained hunger.

Liora just smiled—that infuriating, deliciously smug smile—her sharp jade eyes glinting with lazy, wicked interest as her soft cat ears flicked forward. "To help, obviously," she purred, like the words weren’t laced with promise. "You should be bursting by now, right? All that heat building up in your belly? According to my research—" her voice dipped lower, silk wrapped around sin, "—your hormones should be spiking even worse than yesterday."

She leaned in slowly, deliberately, until Aria could feel her breath—hot and teasing—against the leaking tip. Liora inhaled deep, her chest rising as the rich, musky aroma of Aria’s rut filled her lungs. Her eyes fluttered, thighs pressing together as her tail flicked with growing agitation. "Fuck," she moaned under her breath, voice hitching, "yeah... definitely stronger."

Then her hand—slender, deceptively delicate—wrapped around the base of Aria’s cock.

It was like touching a live wire.

Aria moaned—a raw, helpless sound—her head tipping back as her hips jerked. The sensation of Liora’s fingers curling around her burning shaft sent lightning through her blood. Her cock twitched violently, spurting another thick line of precum that oozed over the older girl’s knuckles. Her vision blurred. Her toes curled. It wasn’t fair—how much worse it was today. How needy her body had become. Her shaft throbbed with humiliating urgency in Liora’s grip, each pulse shoving more slick down the length and across her knot in sticky, clinging trails.

Her breath caught as she managed a grin—cocky, strained, painted in arousal. “And how exactly,” she rasped, voice low and husky, “do you plan to help?”

Dominance sparked like lightning in her veins, sharp and primal. The heat wanted to take over, to force her forward and claim—but Aria wasn’t going to be ruled by it. Not yet. She could still play this game. Could still make Liora work for it. The predator in her stretched inside her chest, lips curling in anticipation.

Liora’s thumb lazily swiped a glossy trail of slick from Aria’s needy slit, dragging it with a teasing slowness that made Aria’s spine arch and her breath hitch. The way Liora lifted it to her lips—graceful, sensual, sinful—was deliberate. Her green eyes locked onto Aria’s, gleaming with playful wickedness as her tongue flicked out, tasting the nectar like it was the finest ambrosia. The tiny, satisfied hum she let out sent shivers down Aria’s thighs.

“Well… there are a few ways,” Liora murmured, slow and sultry, like each word was chosen to stoke the fire inside Aria’s belly. The implication hung thick between them, heavier than the scent of heat-drenched cock in the air, and Aria’s thoughts scattered. A few ways? Her mind raced, filthy ideas pouring in faster than she could hold onto them. Her breath caught as Liora leaned forward, closer, until her exhale ghosted right across the trembling swell of Aria’s knot.

The pressure there was maddening—every throb a cry for attention, every twitch of the swollen bulb a warning that her body was seconds from breaking. “That knot…” Liora purred, voice dripping with curiosity and lust. “It’s supposed to be your most sensitive part, right?”

Aria didn’t answer—couldn’t. Her entire being tunneled into that single point of contact, her every thought, every breath, reduced to the white-hot agony of want radiating from her knot. The promise in Liora’s voice, in her teasing, maddening tone, had been enough to make her pulse spike. But nothing could’ve prepared her for the moment that followed—when Liora’s soft, supple lips pressed against that swollen, hypersensitive bulb of flesh with all the reverence of a priestess touching her sacred relic.

The bliss didn’t just explode—it detonated. A sharp gasp punched from Aria’s lungs, her body locking, jerking, thrashing. Her hips bucked up so violently that the tip of her cock slapped wetly against her own belly, flinging a thick string of precum up her chest. Her vision shattered—everything went white, not from light, but from pleasure. It roared through her, hotter than fire, thicker than honey, dragging every nerve into a state of electric delirium. Her mouth dropped open, soundless at first, before a hoarse, desperate moan escaped—raw, animalistic, starved. She needed something. She needed it now. Her cock flexed again, spit another thick line of slick that rolled down her shaft and over her knot, adding to the slippery mess.

She was going to go insane.

Liora giggled, the sound low and devilish, so pleased with herself. Like she’d uncovered some secret switch and now couldn’t stop pressing it. “Seems I was right,” she purred, smug and sultry, and then her lips parted. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t stop. No—she lingered, trailing that wicked tongue along the rim of Aria’s knot, slow and wet and so damn careful it made Aria’s legs quake. She kissed it again, and again, her lips plush and hot, her breath fanning over saliva-slick flesh like a caress.

It was torture. It was heaven.

Aria twitched beneath her, her thighs trembling. She could feel every nerve in her cock screaming, raw and open, demanding more, begging for friction, for pressure, for the tight, perfect grip of a cunt or throat. Her knot was so full, so tight, every pulse making it ache in the best way. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

And then—without conscious thought—her leg snapped upward, curling behind Liora’s neck with a desperation born from pure instinct. She pulled her down, her heel pressing against the back of Liora’s head, locking her into place like a vise. “Fuck—don’t stop,” she choked out, her voice ragged, torn in half by need. “Keep—fuck—keep going.”

Liora moaned in surprise, the sound vibrating against Aria’s knot as she obeyed. Her tongue flattened, then curled, licking up the engorged base in wide, reverent strokes that made Aria see stars. Her lips sealed around the edge, sucking, worshipping, her purrs rumbling into the swollen tissue. Aria bucked again, rutting helplessly into open air, her whole body twitching in need.

Her cock was drooling like a faucet, thick streams painting her stomach, her thighs, Liora’s cheek. She was soaked. She was shaking. Her sheets were sticking to her back, and her fists clenched so tight around them they might tear. Her balls were drawn tight, heavy, aching, and her knot throbbed in time with every racing beat of her heart. She was so close to the edge she could taste it—could feel her orgasm looming, bloated and monstrous, just a touch away.

And Liora hadn’t even started sucking properly yet.

Liora’s moan vibrated against the knot, her lips parting wider as her tongue lavished the base with messy, wet worship. Aria’s body writhed, desperate and overstimulated, her cock so engorged it looked painful. The sticky-slick noises filled the room, obscene and constant, and Aria’s fingers gripped her sheets hard enough to tear. She was rutting the air in frantic thrusts, each one feeding the fire building in her gut. Her knot throbbed harder, her balls pulled tight—too full, too much, too ready.

“You’re not close yet, are you?” Liora whispered with a devilish grin, her lips pulling away from Aria’s knot with a lewd, wet pop that left her cock glistening in the morning light. Aria blinked, dazed, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She didn’t know—couldn’t know. Everything felt so intense, her body vibrating with bliss so profound it bordered on agony, and yet… she wasn’t tipping. She wasn’t teetering on that final edge. Her cock ached like it was alive, twitching, demanding, dripping obscene, sticky trails of heat—but the orgasm just refused to come. It was maddening.

“No,” Aria growled, voice rough and low. “So get your lips around my cock.” Her tone sharpened with frustration, that bossy streak clawing its way to the surface, her need too big to play coy. Her eyes burned with heat, her body trembling from the feverish denial burning through her.

Liora’s smile only widened, hungry and thrilled. She gave the shaft a single, teasing lick—slow and broad, dragging from base to tip with lazy adoration—before her fingers came into play. Two of them, slender and soft, pressed directly against the fat, leaking crown. They dipped into the slit, gathering the heavy pearls of cum that refused to stop flowing, and Aria’s breath hitched violently. She expected Liora to taste it again, to lick her fingers clean in that filthy way she loved so much. But instead—

That slick hand slid lower.

The cum-slicked fingertips, glistening and warm, found the twitching cleft of her ass and pressed gently against the tight ring of muscle. Aria gasped, the contact electric, wrong and yet so impossibly right. Her body clenched, thighs tensing as the new sensation struck her like a lightning bolt. The wet press of fingers at her backdoor felt strange—alien—but not unwelcome. Fuck, it felt good. Too good.

Then Liora nuzzled forward, burying her nose against Aria’s heavy, swollen balls, inhaling deeply. Her breath was hot, damp with need, and Aria could feel her inhale the thick scent of pheromone-heavy musk pouring off her sack. “There are better ways to make you cum, dear sister,” she purred, her voice velvet-wrapped sin.

Without waiting for a response, Liora pushed. Her fingers sank in slowly, spreading that tight, virginal ring open with practiced care. Aria choked on a moan, her whole spine arching as that uncharted pleasure ripped through her. It was wrong. It was perfect. It was so good it made her hips twitch, her cock flex, her thoughts melt into pure sensation. Her asshole stretched, hugged those digits tight, sucking them in with each pulse of her heartbeat. Her inner walls clenched, confused but greedy for more. She couldn’t help the way her body moved, hips bucking, seeking something to fuck, to fill, to anchor her to the storm Liora had unleashed.

Her breath came in ragged bursts. She tried to speak—to snarl, to protest, something—but her words caught in her throat, strangled by the overwhelming fullness blooming inside her. All she could manage was a desperate, broken sound that melted into a moan, loud and unashamed, as her ass was worked open for the first time.

Liora didn’t stop. Her fingers curled, pushed deeper, twisting slowly to milk every squirm and twitch out of Aria’s overstimulated body. Her tongue lapped lazily at the underside of Aria’s cock, adding to the mess, the mix of pressure and pleasure threatening to unmake her. Aria’s world narrowed to a single point—her ass, her cock, her heat.

“W-What are you—doing?” Aria gasped out, her voice shredded by the overwhelming surge of pleasure that coursed through her. Every breath came ragged, every word breaking under the weight of her body's fevered response. Liora’s fingers were inside her—deep—curled with slow, purposeful intent as they mapped the tight, unfamiliar walls of her ass. Her fingertips were searching, probing, rotating gently but insistently, each motion causing Aria’s breath to stutter and her hips to twitch. It felt raw. It felt dangerous. It felt like her soul was being drawn out one tremble at a time.

“Searching for your prostate, dummy,” Liora muttered with casual cruelty, her voice muffled by the obscene closeness of her face to Aria’s twitching cock and soaked folds. “It should be right… here.”

And then she found it.

Aria’s back arched off the bed like she’d been struck by lightning. Those fingers pressed into that spot with surgical precision, hitting it with a rhythm that felt more like hypnosis than stimulation, a maddening tempo that dragged her deeper into delirium with every stroke. Her inner muscles clenched hard around the invading digits, spasming wildly, as if her body couldn’t decide whether to expel or devour the touch that was pushing her to pieces. Her breath caught in her throat as pleasure jolted through her in punishing waves, every nerve flaring, every inch of her flesh igniting with need.

Her thighs tensed so hard they shook, her calves quivering from the effort to ground herself in a reality that had already slipped away. Her toes curled like claws, her heels digging into the mattress, and her cock jerked—not just once, but in a wild, desperate twitch that sent another fat bead of syrupy cum splashing across her belly. It drooled from her slit in lazy dribbles, each drop obscene in its richness, tracing molten lines down her shaft like the tears of a ruined goddess. Her knot swelled tighter, harder, meaner—so full it ached, a pulsating core of unbearable pressure that throbbed in sync with her racing pulse.

Her balls churned, a low, rumbling growl of unspent, demanding seed echoing from within them like thunder trapped behind velvet. They hung heavy and taut, skin stretched, veins thick with the promise of catastrophic release. She could feel the storm inside her, boiling, turning, a whirlpool of molten lust building pressure by the second, ready to break open and pour out like a dam about to fail. Her mouth fell open, a strangled sound escaping—half moan, half scream—as the crest of climax loomed like a tsunami ready to crash. She wasn’t just close—she was right there, trembling on the cusp of obliteration, her body and mind cracking beneath the weight of it.

But Liora wasn’t done.

She leaned in further, her face dipping beneath the swell of Aria’s bloated balls, until her breath was ghosting warm and humid over the trembling folds beneath. One hand gently lifted the hefty orbs, her palm cradling them like fragile treasures, letting them rest heavily in her touch while her fingers curled instinctively around their shape. The skin was fever-hot, pulsing with life, every twitch and churn radiating a need that echoed between Aria’s thighs and through her core.

And then—her tongue found more. A wet, sinfully eager drag across the exposed, soaked folds of Aria’s neglected pussy. It was devastating. Her mouth latched onto Aria’s flushed lips, still swollen and slick from heat, and devoured. She went in with no hesitation, tongue diving into the slit with obscene hunger, as though tasting Aria was the only sustenance she’d known. Her lips sucked, her tongue flicked and swirled and stabbed deep into every slick crevice, curling and pressing against trembling walls as if trying to coax secrets from her womb. Every motion was desperate, focused, intentional—as if she were starved and Aria’s slick was the only meal that could ever satisfy her.

Aria screamed—a high, broken moan that ripped from her throat as her body was unraveled, her nerves whipped into chaos. Her ass was being milked by curling fingers, her prostate stimulated with maddening precision, her pussy licked to fucking ruin—and all of it collided into a firestorm inside her. Her mind snapped, a flash of white behind her eyes as sensation overloaded her every thought. Her fingers clawed the sheets so hard the fabric tore, her thighs clamped down around Liora’s head with crushing force, locking her in place with a strength born of raw instinct.

Her cock was untouched, but it twitched violently, spasming in sympathy, spurting slick in thick, helpless ribbons that splashed against her heaving belly. Each drool of precum added to the obscene mess already smeared across her abs and inner thighs, a hot, sticky map of her debauchery. The fire in her veins didn’t just burn—it roared, a furnace without mercy, a sun behind her ribs that radiated need with every breath. Every heartbeat pounded like a war drum, each one counting down to the end—the inevitable, the monstrous orgasm that refused to crest, dangling just out of reach. Her whole body trembled, trapped in a loop of unbearable pressure and wild, electrifying denial.

She couldn’t take it. She needed to cum. But the edge stayed just out of reach—cruel, pulsing, maddeningly close.

Was Liora even trying to make her cum…?

Because just as she began to tremble, just as the pressure crested and the orgasm hovered within reach—Liora would ease off. She’d stop pressing the spot. She’d slow her tongue. She’d change the pressure just enough to pull Aria back from the edge, drawing out the torture with sadistic precision. It was clockwork, a cruel rhythm of ascent and denial, leaving Aria dangling in a limbo of unbearable tension. Over and over again. Every gasp that echoed off the walls was a cry unanswered, every twitch of her thighs met not with release, but with a deliberate withdrawal that made her body scream in protest.

Every time Aria’s hips jerked, every time her voice cracked with another needy, ragged moan, Liora adjusted—denied her. Her tongue would slide away just before the peak, her fingers would shift, her pressure would soften like a dream fading too fast. She kept her right there, on the edge of madness, riding wave after wave of aborted bliss until Aria was sobbing with the need to finish, her words slurring into whimpers. Her frustration twisted with desire, her heat boiling into something that bordered on delirium. It wasn't just need anymore—it was desperation, a deep, throbbing ache that lived in her bones.

And Liora seemed to relish it—her tongue a devilish instrument of torture that danced through Aria's drenched folds like it was made to ruin her. That perfect, teasing rhythm made Aria quiver with need, the obscene slickness of her pussy a soaked playground for Liora’s every flick, suck, and swirl. Her breath came in desperate gasps, legs trembling as Liora buried her face deep, the swollen heft of Aria’s balls resting against her cheek like decadent weights. That scent—thick, raw, musky with feral heat—coated Liora’s every breath, yet she only buried herself deeper, tongue lapping hungrily, greedily, like she wanted to drown in it.

Aria was unraveling. Not from climax—no, Liora was too cruel for that—but from the unbearable edge, the tension that coiled tighter with every denied thrust of that wicked tongue. Her cock ached—screamed—every vein throbbing, the tip a swollen, leaking beacon of want. Her hips rolled, rutting the air in frustration, every muscle in her core twitching with rage and need. Her soaked pussy was practically clenching on nothing, desperate for something to squeeze. But Liora was dancing just out of reach—too skilled, too teasing.

Then she looked up.

That wicked grin—lips and chin glistening with Aria’s juices, her green eyes shining with smug satisfaction—it snapped something inside Aria. She couldn't take it. She wouldn't take it. Her hand lunged, fingers tangling in Liora’s messy black hair, yanking her away from that soaked heaven with a snarl of frustration. Her heart pounded in her throat, cock flexing so hard it slapped against her stomach with a sticky smack, the glistening tip still drooling like it was crying. “That’s enough,” Aria growled, her voice a guttural snarl torn straight from her furnace of need. Every inch of her skin burned with want, her thighs trembling, her mind tunnel-visioned into one desperate, final need: to fuck.

Liora didn’t fight. Her eyes lit with something darker, hungrier. She wanted this. Aria could see it—the tiny hitch in her breath, the way her smirk deepened as she was manhandled around and thrown onto her stomach. Her giggle, breathless and bratty, tumbled from her lips as Aria climbed over her, a hand gripping her hips like handles. “Oh no,” Liora cooed with a mockingly innocent lilt, “what ever are you going to do to me?”

Aria didn’t answer.

She positioned herself, the monstrous weight of her cock resting along the curve of Liora’s ass, hot and twitching. Her knot swelled at the base, pulsing with angry heat, the entire shaft gleaming with a mixture of spit and arousal. Her swollen tip throbbed against those slick folds, aligning with Liora’s entrance, and Aria didn’t wait—she thrust.

A sharp, high-pitched moan ripped from Liora’s throat the moment Aria’s cock plunged into her, stretching her soaked, clenching folds around every veined inch of that monstrous, ravenous shaft. Her back arched, her voice broken into desperate gasps, pupils blown wide as her body accepted the obscene girth with shocking ease—no resistance, no hesitation. It was like her cunt had been made to take Aria, to mold itself around the impossible shape pounding into it. Aria's cock throbbed like a beast possessed, pulsing with brutal hunger as it fed inch after inch into the slick furnace of Liora’s heat.

Every push forward was met with a flood of slick, every inch swallowed making Liora’s body quake as her walls were stretched so wide they could barely keep hold. Her pussy spasmed helplessly around that cock—tight, wet, so damn needy—and Aria could feel it. Every ripple. Every squeeze. Her shaft was engulfed, suffocated in perfect pressure, until her bloated knot slammed like a fist into Liora’s slick, trembling entrance. That knot was enormous, swollen with lust, angry with need—it stopped her for just a moment, pressed snugly against those spasming folds like a battering ram against a quivering door.

Then her balls followed, those massive, churning beasts swinging forward and slapping wetly against the soft backs of Liora’s thighs. They were heavy, swollen with a night’s worth of molten cum, aching to spill. The weight of them was obscene, a swollen promise of breeding, of utter ruin. Aria could feel the pressure, the boiling load inside her—a thick, syrupy flood of seed that demanded to be emptied, to be forced into someone. Into Liora.

It was perfect. It was bliss. Every inch buried inside her made Aria moan through gritted teeth, her mind fogging under the molten rush of raw pleasure. Her cock twitched, milked by those greedy walls, and the burn up her spine was euphoric. She could barely breathe. It felt so good it bordered on heaven—every nerve alight, every muscle tensed. Her breath hitched. Her hips pulled back.

And then she slammed forward again.

Her thrust sent a rippling shockwave through Liora’s frame—her ass bouncing with each powerful impact, the slap of hips against cheeks echoing through the room like thunder. Aria’s hand which was tangled in Liora’s dark hair, yanked her head back with a snarl, exposing her neck like prey. Liora moaned, open-mouthed, voice cracked and unhinged as Aria pounded into her with a rhythm that was wild, relentless, dominant.

Fuck—fuck yes! Liora’s moan tore through the air, her voice ragged and slurred as Aria drove into her like a beast gone rabid. Each piston-thrust of Aria’s cock slammed the full weight of her knot and swollen balls against Liora’s drenched, twitching folds, the wet slap of impact loud, primal, merciless. Aria’s rhythm wasn’t just fast—it was brutal, punishing, fueled by a hunger that had been stoked for far too long. Her hips drew back with animalistic restraint, only to lunge forward again, her cock barreling into the tight, clutching heat of Liora’s cunt with obscene force.

Each thrust punched moans out of Liora's throat like she was a toy caught in a relentless machine, her back arching deeper, her hands clawing uselessly at the bed. Her soaked folds stretched and gripped around the veined intrusion, struggling to hold onto the thickness ramming into her again and again. The slick friction drove Aria mad—every inch she reclaimed only to slam it back inside felt like setting her own nerves on fire. The way Liora’s pussy clung to her, spasming, milking her cock like it was starving for every pulse and twitch, sent delirious surges of heat crawling up Aria’s spine.

She couldn’t stop—didn’t want to. Her whole body thrummed with the rhythm, with the building crescendo inside her. She gritted her teeth, panting through a haze of raw animal lust as her hips snapped forward faster, harder, each impact echoing through the room in obscene percussion. Her heavy balls clapped rhythmically against Liora’s soaked thighs, each bounce adding to the maddening slap of wet skin on wet skin. Sweat poured down her back, her arms shaking from the effort to keep driving herself into the tight, clutching heat that wouldn’t let her go.

And Liora—Liora was losing it. Her mouth hung open in a shameless, broken scream, words long since given up in favor of raw, strangled gasps. Her legs kicked and twitched beneath Aria, every muscle locking with pleasure, her toes curling hard enough to cramp. Her body convulsed with every thrust, and Aria could feel the way her walls spasmed, desperately trying to suck her in deeper, to keep her there. Her pussy was flooded, drenched, noisy—filthy, perfect. The heat between them sizzled, unstoppable.

Aria leaned over, her breath a hot snarl in Liora’s ear. “You wanted this,” she growled, voice guttural, filled with raw triumph. “Now take every fucking inch.” And then she slammed forward again—deeper, harder, almost cruel. She wasn’t just fucking her now. She was claiming her.

She kept her knot out on purpose, taunting, teasing, denying. That tight little brat deserved to get ruined, to be made to beg—and Aria couldn’t give her that until the very last second. Her mouth found the nape of Liora’s neck, teeth grazing skin before her lips sealed in a kiss that was possessive and wild. She slammed forward again, hips snapping with reckless abandon, burying herself to the hilt with every thrust until Liora was gasping for air, hands clenched in the sheets, her cries dissolving into babbled moans.

Aria could feel it—boiling up from her core like lava ready to consume everything in its path, a violent, primal force screaming for release. Pressure surged with terrifying momentum, winding tight through her belly, spine, and thighs until every fiber of her being locked into a trembling crescendo of animalistic need. Her body shuddered, hips twitching, hands gripping Liora's hips like she might be swept away if she let go. Her cock throbbed so violently it felt alive, the engorged veins pulsing with frenzied urgency.

With a low, guttural growl that tore up from her chest like a beast breaking free, she snapped. Her hips pistoned forward with unforgiving force, burying her cock deep—deeper, past the tight spasms of Liora’s stretched cunt, until the swollen, furious mass of her knot slammed against the threshold. The pressure of it was like trying to force the sun through a pinhole, the monstrous bulb of flesh grinding against Liora’s folds with obscene insistence until—pop—it shoved inside, stretching her open in a slow, brutal invasion that had both of them crying out in raw, unfiltered ecstasy.

Liora’s body spasmed beneath her, her scream muffled into the sheets as the sheer size and density of the knot locked them together. Aria could feel everything—the vice-like grip around her base, the desperate, fluttering contractions of Liora’s pussy trying to either expel or milk her further, the slick gush of wetness forced out around the seal. Her knot was plugged, stuffed deep inside a trembling cunt that clung to her like a velvet trap, and the shock of pressure radiating back up her shaft made Aria moan, low and shattered.

The world tunneled down to heat, to fullness, to the overwhelming sense of belonging—as if her entire being had been forged for this moment, this fit, this perfect, obscene union of flesh and need. Her breath came in sharp pants against Liora’s shoulder, every inhale dragging in the scent of sweat, sex, and satisfaction, every exhale a trembling whimper as her cock twitched inside that suffocating, perfect heat.

A full-body tremor ran through Aria as her cock throbbed violently within the vice-tight, convulsing grip of Liora’s cunt, her orgasm ripping free from her spine like a tidal wave of molten release. The first spurt of cum erupted with brutal force, a white-hot flood that surged forward and crashed into Liora’s womb, so thick and heavy it made her petite belly bulge outward in obscene relief. A cry—ragged, primal—tore from Aria’s throat, her body seized by the primal instinct to breed, to claim, to fill. Her cock flexed again—and again—each savage pulse pumping another gluttonous wave of slick, fertile cream into Liora’s trembling core.

She was bred. Marked. Branded from the inside out. The knot wedged deep in her cunt ensured not a single drop escaped the torrential release until there was simply no more room left. The syrupy, viscous seed packed Liora’s womb so thoroughly that even her fluttering walls couldn’t contain it; the thick excess began to leak around the knot in slow, gloppy trails, white heat seeping past the battered rim of her entrance. Aria moaned through clenched teeth, the intensity of her climax folding her in half, every nerve burning with exquisite overload. Her vision blurred with pleasure, stars exploding behind her eyes as the euphoria rolled on and on, each new spasm of her cock pumping another decadent offering into the girl beneath her. It was too much—and yet not enough. Cum trickled in heavy, sluggish ropes, soaking Liora’s thighs, her ass, the sheets beneath them, until the scent of sex and heat and victory clung to every breath of air.

Aria’s eyes rolled back, her mouth hung open in a silent scream, lost in the euphoria of finally, finally emptying herself after what felt like a lifetime of denial and torment. Her lungs burned as she tried to suck in air between moans, every breath dragging more of Liora’s scent into her head and sending her spiraling deeper. “F-fuck,” she gasped, voice hoarse and broken, cracked from the force of her cries, as the unstoppable flood of molten seed began to slow into a lazy, indulgent drip. She could feel every throb of her cock, the heavy, syrupy pulses weakening with each twitch, each thick spurt losing its urgency but not its volume. Her knot gave one final, stubborn swell—firm and unforgiving—locking her in place like a brand, the thick ring of muscle stretched tight around it refusing to yield. She could feel Liora twitch around her, soft moans rising under her breath, her belly distended with the obscene fullness inside. Aria’s breath hitched again, her fingers trembling where they gripped the sheets, the aftershocks of release echoing through her hips in sweet, punishing waves that refused to let her down gently. Her entire body pulsed with the rhythm of orgasm, her mind floating just outside the realm of coherent thought, suspended in the raw, animal satisfaction of having claimed, of having bred. It was everything she’d needed—too much, and still not enough.

Liora herself was breathing heavily, each exhale shuddering through her as a delirious, satisfied grin stretched across her thoroughly fucked face. It looked almost cartoonishly blissed out—eyes half-lidded, mouth parted, flushed cheeks glazed with sweat—like her brain had been melted and replaced with nothing but afterglow. She looked wrecked, utterly used, and Aria loved every second of it. She could see it in Liora’s glassy eyes: the girl had gotten exactly what she wanted.

Aria leaned down slowly, her breath hitching as her slick-covered body slid against Liora’s trembling back, skin meeting skin with sticky friction. Her mouth found Liora’s neck, warm and salty, the taste of her sweat rich on Aria’s tongue. She kissed there slowly at first, sensually, then her teeth grazed the flushed skin. With a low, animalistic growl, she bit down—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to claim. Her hips gave a lazy roll against Liora’s spent ass, the knot still buried deep inside, pulsing like it had no intention of going soft any time soon.

“I’m still so fucking full,” Aria purred against her neck, her voice laced with possessive heat. Her words were soft, sweet almost, but behind that gentleness was a promise—raw, hungry, unrelenting. “I’m gonna fuck you again... and again... over and over until my heat is finally satisfied. You hear me?” Her voice cracked with the intensity of her need, the ravenous ache that hadn’t diminished in the slightest despite the obscene load she’d just pumped into her sister.

She didn’t know how long it would take. It didn’t matter. The heat was worse than anything she’d ever experienced—unforgiving, consuming, merciless. It burned hotter than yesterday, impossibly hotter, a primal demand coiled deep in her belly that refused to be ignored. There was no stopping now. Not until she had wrung every ounce of pleasure from Liora’s body, not until the pressure inside her was finally gone. And judging by the way her cock still throbbed and her balls ached, that would be a very long time.

"Come on, put your hips into it, sis!" Leonora moaned, her voice trembling with breathless ecstasy as she slammed down again with feral enthusiasm. The couch beneath them shrieked in protest, its frame trembling under the force of their tangled bodies. Aria clung to those sculpted, powerful thighs for dear life, her fingers digging into firm, sweat-slick muscle as Leonora’s pussy devoured her with wild hunger.

That heat—gods, that wet, clenching heat—felt like it had been crafted solely for her. Leonora’s walls wrapped around Aria’s massive, knotted canine cock like a velvet trap, each thrust down squeezing her shaft with vice-like pressure. The older girl rode her with raw abandon, slamming down over and over again, hips clapping loudly against Aria’s lap in a primal, relentless rhythm. Her knot battered those slick, soaked folds again and again, growing ever fatter, ever more insistent as Aria’s body trembled beneath her.

The room reeked of rut—sweet, thick musk swirling through the air like a cloud of lust made visible. Aria was lost in it, trapped in a fog of overwhelming pleasure and fire. Her cock hadn’t softened once—not once—all day. Not through hours of wanton filth that blurred into one orgasmic, overstimulated fever dream. The heat still throbbed inside her, an insatiable hunger that made her shaft ache and pulse with maddening intensity.

Leonora slammed down again, and Aria’s whole body tensed. A web of sticky cum from a previous climax clung between them in stringy, silken ropes, gluing their sweat-drenched skin together in a lewd, glistening mess. Each movement tugged on that filth, making strands stretch and break with wet little snaps that filled the room alongside the obscene schlick-schlick of soaked pussy taking cock. Aria’s balls, swollen and heavy from hours of overproduction, churned against the couch with obscene weight. She was still leaking—never stopping, always dribbling—her cock dripping from the tip in thick droplets that painted her abs and Leonora’s bouncing thighs.

Her hands gripped tighter, nails digging in now, as she helped guide those powerful hips. Not that Leonora needed the help—fuck no—the lioness could ride her like a champ, slamming herself down until that fat knot pressed insistently against her twitching entrance. She hadn’t tied her yet. She was teasing it, bouncing down to the knot, then up again, milking her with cruel precision.

And Aria loved it. Every shudder, every tremble, every thrust into that perfect, hot grip made her brain melt further. She could barely think. All that existed was Leonora’s body, the heat, the slick squelch of soaked pussy around her cock, and the mounting pressure in her balls. Her breath hitched with every bounce, and her cock jerked with its own pulse, begging for release. But there was more to come. There was always more.

“Fuuuck, it feels just so fucking gooood...” The words fell apart on Leonora’s tongue, dissolving into a raw, broken moan as another violent orgasm tore through her. Her whole body seized in bliss, back arching sharply while her thighs trembled uncontrollably. Her head dropped back, mane cascading in a golden halo, lips slack as her eyes rolled up, utterly consumed by the sheer intensity that detonated inside her. She was a picture of ruin—shuddering, gasping, lost in the kind of pleasure that blanked out thought and left nothing but primal sensation.

Aria felt it all. Every twitch of those soaked, convulsing pussy walls sent ripples of pleasure lancing up her spine like electric fire. The way they clamped down in waves, fluttering and squeezing around her fat, pulsing knot was almost too much—so hot, so slick, so fucking greedy. It was like Leonora’s body wanted to steal every drop Aria could give and then some, wringing her out until there was nothing left but ruined moans and overstimulated flesh. Her cock throbbed with helpless delight inside that molten vice, tip flushed and dribbling even as her balls gave another heavy churn.

She grinned through the haze of it all, her breath coming in shaky gasps, her body vibrating with arousal so deep it felt carved into her bones. That knot—so swollen now it felt like it had its own heartbeat—ground relentlessly into Leonora’s quivering slit, smearing slickness and heat as she pressed and rolled it there with slow, torturous intent. Not pushing in. Not yet. Just teasing. Grinding. Letting that soaked, swollen pussy feel it.

She wasn’t trying to knot her—not yet—but every second she spent right on that edge, rubbing that fat bulge into overstimulated folds, was a promise. A threat. An inevitable surrender. And Aria was going to stretch out every desperate second of it. Watching Leonora twitch, hearing the shattered moans pour from her lips like honeyed filth, feeling her clench and flutter as if her cunt could beg—it lit something inside Aria. Something primal. Something proud. This wasn’t just sex—it was proof. This was power, heat, and goddamn glory all rolled into one cock-drunk, gasping mess beneath her.

She loved this. Watching someone lose their mind, scream their soul out on her cock, go boneless and drooling from a proper dicking—it was a high she could never get enough of. Her heart thudded against her ribs as Leonora shook through it, thighs trembling like jelly as the orgasm just kept going. Thirty full seconds of unbroken climax, of soaked folds fluttering and milking, of those velvet walls pulsing greedily around her dick, squeezing her in rhythm with each quaking moan. And through it all, Aria just kept pressing her knot against the entrance like a threat, letting the friction make Leonora sing.

Finally, the lioness began to calm, her breath still ragged but her muscles starting to ease, sweat glistening along her golden skin. She blinked slowly, a dangerous smirk spreading across her lips as she looked down at Aria with eyes wide and wild—pupils blown, chest heaving, clearly drunk on the dense, hormone-laced musk that choked the air between them. Gods, the whole room was thick with it, warm and cloying, clinging to the walls, the furniture, everything. Aria’s balls pulsed beneath her, still hard at work, pumping out more of that pheromone-rich stink with every throb.

“Fuck... so fucking good,” Leonora rasped, her voice low and wrecked, grinding herself slowly back onto the thick shaft lodged deep inside her. But before the moment could stretch further, it was abruptly snapped by the sharp, sarcastic tone of Kaelen.

“You know she’s faking all of it, right?” Kaelen drawled, lounging nearby with her usual air of infuriating smugness. “No way someone moans like that over dick. Totally fake.”

She punctuated the claim with a lazy flick of her fluffy tail and a smirk that screamed brat mode engaged. Aria, still high on the overload of sex and sweat, let her heavy, half-lidded gaze drift slowly toward the fox, a simmering glare forming in her eyes.

"Just because your dry-ass hookups don't moan like that doesn't mean it's not real," Aria snapped back with smug fire, her lips curling into a cocky smirk as Leonora's body moved with slow, practiced finesse. The lioness rolled her hips in perfect, undulating circles, milking every inch of Aria’s fat, pulsating shaft with muscle control that could've been mistaken for magic. That shaft throbbed visibly between their soaked bodies—glossy with spit, cum, and sweat—its girth twitching with every grind. Aria could feel the thick veins along its length press against those velvety inner walls, and she nearly buckled beneath the heat, still oversensitive and hungry all at once.

Kaelen’s voice piped up from nearby with a bratty huff. “Hey! That’s not fair.” Her tone was defiant, but her posture betrayed her. Aria’s eyes flicked to the fox’s expression and saw it—the hunger. Kaelen’s gaze was fixed on the glistening union between Leonora and her cock, pupils blown wide, breath caught somewhere between a sneer and a gasp. She was biting her lip, and Aria could practically see the gears grinding in her horny, bratty little brain.

Leonora noticed too. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, eyes twinkling, and gave Aria a knowing wink. "Hey sis... why don't you stop staring and try it for yourself? See just how fucking good she feels inside."

Kaelen flinched like she'd been slapped, tearing her eyes away from Aria’s throbbing cock with a gasp. “Wh-What? Inside?!” she stammered, caught red-handed like a thief drooling over treasure. Her voice cracked and faltered, and the bulge in her snug pants pulsed visibly—her own ten inches of twitching, eager meat betraying every attempt at dignity. The way her cock throbbed in her tight waistband was almost pitiful; her entire body screamed want even if her lips wouldn’t say it.

“I—I don’t know...” she whispered more to herself, gaze flicking back despite her own protests, drinking in the slick, lewd spectacle of Leonora’s cum-slick pussy grinding that wolf cock like it was her only purpose in life.

“Don’t be a buzzkill now,” Leonora teased, her tone sultry and warm as she slowly lifted herself off Aria’s length. Her thighs quivered with aftershocks, her body still trembling from the last orgasm. With a low groan, she pulled up just enough for a string of thick, cloudy cum to leak free, trailing in obscene strands from her drooling slit to the couch below. The strand clung for a moment before snapping, adding to the already massive, sticky puddle soaking the cushions and dripping over the edge onto the floor.

Kaelen's throat bobbed visibly, her lips parting with a quiet, needy gasp that betrayed the war waging inside her. She didn’t even bother hiding the way her slender fingers brushed over her own tented bulge—slow, exploratory strokes that hinted at desperation barely restrained. Her golden eyes flickered with lust, her fluffy fox ears twitching as if the pheromone-laced air had short-circuited her senses.

Leonora sauntered over with the sort of deliberate grace that came from knowing exactly how desirable she was. Her stride was loose, hips swaying with just a touch of drunken wobble from the overwhelming ecstasy she’d just indulged in, but even that made her all the more magnetic. Sweat glistened along her toned skin, every inch of her practically glowing with post-orgasmic heat as she closed the distance. She leaned in close to Kaelen, so close their breath mingled, her lips brushing teasingly over the fox’s cheek, down to her jawline. The moment froze there—charged, electric.

It was strange, seeing Kaelen like this. Normally bratty and smug, full of quips and sass, now she stood frozen in place, trembling, caught in the crossfire of need and inhibition. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, rapid breaths, and her body language betrayed the tension—hips subtly canting forward, trying to find friction, her tail low and twitching like she couldn’t control it. Aria could see it clearly: the pheromones were hitting her hard, coating her brain in a thick, hormonal fog. Kaelen was in heat, or close enough to make her every sense scream for relief.

Leonora’s mouth found hers with a soft but dominant kiss, and Kaelen whimpered. A strong hand moved with purpose, cupping that aching, throbbing bulge through her pants, squeezing just enough to make Kaelen’s knees buckle. "Come on, girl," Leonora purred between kisses, her voice dipped in sultry smoke, "you want it, don’t you? I mean, the smell alone must be driving you insane."

Another kiss, this one deeper, and her hand snuck beneath the waistband of Kaelen’s pants, sliding inside with practiced ease. Kaelen’s breath hitched—caught and broke—as Leonora’s fingers wrapped around her cock, giving it a slow, deliberate stroke that made her gasp and shudder. Her whole body trembled, spine arching, as if just that single touch had unraveled something vital inside her.

"Come on, girl," Leonora coaxed, her voice velvet wrapped around heat. "When you were in heat, the pheromones were nearly as strong. You remember how they made you beg, to be milked. Don’t pretend you don’t feel it. Look at you. You need to ride that cock—don’t you?"

Kaelen’s golden eyes were wide now, pupils blown, her lips parted in helpless need. The bravado had all but vanished. There was only the trembling girl, the one craving the thick scent of lust in the air, the one who had been listening for hours to the obscene sounds of skin meeting skin, of moans echoing through walls, of Leonora getting filled and Aria breaking whoever offered themselves up. Kaelen was starving for it, even if she hadn’t admitted it yet.

And Aria saw that hunger. She stood slowly, cock hanging between her legs like a monster, twitching and drooling pre with every step she took. Her balls were low and full, practically sloshing with molten seed that begged to be used, to be emptied. The heat of the room clung to her skin, her scent thick and undeniable—dominating.

She walked with confidence, every motion laced with the awareness of her own potency, of what she could do. Kaelen’s eyes locked onto that cock, mesmerized, every breath shallower than the last.

The room throbbed with feral tension as Aria stepped into the gravity well of lust that had pulled all three of them into its heat-drenched core. The very air around them seemed to shimmer with need, heavy and wet with pheromones and anticipation. Kaelen’s breath caught in her throat as Aria approached, every inch of her presence radiating dominance, her eyes dark with hunger. Aria’s thick, monstrous wolf cock pressed boldly against Kaelen’s trim stomach, its pulsing heat burning through the layers of cloth like it had a will of its own. A heavy bead of slick, glistening pre-cum welled at the head and drooled down, soaking into the stylish fabric of Kaelen’s shirt, staining it with evidence of unrelenting arousal.

Aria’s pulse roared in her ears, a hurricane of possessive lust screaming through her veins. She reached out, grabbing Kaelen’s chin with fingers that trembled from restraint and urgency. Kaelen’s face flushed in a vivid bloom of red, mouth parting like she wanted to form a witty retort—but all that came was a high, helpless whimper. Aria leaned in, lips brushing against her ear, voice low and syrupy with temptation. “Don’t you want to, dear sister? Aren’t you just a little curious?” Her words dripped like molten sin, igniting something inside Kaelen that made her knees visibly wobble.

Behind her, Leonora’s strong hands claimed Kaelen’s body with calculated tenderness and experienced hunger. One hand was wrapped around Kaelen’s stiff, leaking human cock, her thumb brushing over the sensitive underside just beneath the head, eliciting a desperate twitch and groan. The way Kaelen's body reacted—knees buckling, hips stuttering forward helplessly—was a vivid display of just how close to the edge she already was. The other hand moved lower, teasing at the waistband with a tug that made Kaelen whimper before peeling down those too-tight, tented shorts with practiced ease, baring the fox girl’s needy length to the heavy, lust-saturated air.

Her cock sprang free with a proud, urgent bounce—swollen, flushed a deep pink, the head angry and glistening with slick. It curved slightly toward her belly, veins etched across its surface like a roadmap of desire, each one twitching visibly in time with her pounding heart. Below it, her balls hung low and bloated, the skin tight and glossy with perspiration. They shifted and quivered with each throb, slick from sweat and sheer, unbearable arousal, glistening with the sheen of overwhelming lust.

Kaelen’s breath hitched, her body strung tight like a bow. The heat in the room wrapped around her like a physical weight, suffocating in its intensity. Her golden eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide as she stared down at her own exposed need—no snark, no quips, just raw, vulnerable hunger etched across her face.

With a low, rumbling growl of delight, Aria stepped forward, her towering wolf cock already flushed, glistening, drooling a steady stream of slick from the tip. She let it press boldly alongside Kaelen’s, the twin lengths nestling together in a lewd, intimate display of obscene contrast. Aria’s shaft easily dwarfed the other—thicker, longer, veined like a monster, its surface slick with precum and pulsing with an unmistakable aura of heat and power. Just the act of them touching—flesh on flesh, cock on cock—was enough to make both of them shudder.

Kaelen let out a broken, needy moan, her hips jerking forward, seeking friction she hadn’t realized she craved so badly. The shared contact sent shivers rolling down both their spines, and Aria could feel the subtle tremble in Kaelen’s thighs, the way her tail stiffened and quivered in tandem with her cock. Their shafts pulsed in tandem, grinding slowly against one another in a slick, delicious rhythm that made Aria’s breath hitch and her mouth curl into a wicked smirk.

The heat between them grew suffocating, the scent of their mingled arousal thickening the air to a near-visible haze. Every beat of Aria’s heart echoed in her cock, a molten throb that screamed to be buried deep in something wet and clenching. But not yet. She wanted Kaelen to feel it all—to drown in the contact, the contrast, the inevitability.

They stood there, side by side, twitching, throbbing, their cocks glistening and leaking thick streams of arousal, both utterly spellbound by the sweltering fog of desire wrapping around them like a living thing. Kaelen’s breathing had become shallow, ragged, her mouth parted in helpless surrender as every nerve in her body fired with electric tension. Her golden eyes darted between the two monstrous lengths rubbing and twitching beside her, betraying just how overwhelmed she was by the sheer need flooding her veins. The heat between them wasn't just blooming—it was igniting, stoking an inferno that burned from their cores outward, bathing their bodies in sweat and musk.

"Look how needy you are," Leonora murmured, her sultry voice wrapping around Kaelen like velvet shackles. She leaned in close, her breath hot against Kaelen's sensitive ear, and her words—barely more than a whisper—sent a visible shiver rippling down the fox girl’s spine. Her cock jerked violently, a fresh ribbon of pre-cum drooling from the tip, adding to the glistening sheen coating her flushed shaft.

Aria moved in too, her body a furnace of dominance and intent. She pressed forward and captured Kaelen’s lips in a slow, indulgent kiss that left no room for hesitation. Their tongues tangled, slick and wet, flicking and sliding in a dance of raw hunger as they devoured each other’s moans. The kiss broke with a soft gasp, spit clinging in a lewd bridge between their mouths. Aria’s voice was a purr of sultry dominance as she whispered, "Come on now, sis... you want it, don’t you?"

Kaelen whimpered with raw desperation, her breath catching as her hips jerked forward helplessly. Her eyes—glossy and wide, swimming in lust—met Aria's with a pleading intensity, and her voice was a tremulous breath, “Yes… please.”

That was all it took. Aria smirked darkly as Leonora shifted behind Kaelen. The lioness’s strong arms moved with stunning precision, wrapping beneath Kaelen's knees and lifting her with ease. Her body was hoisted into the air, feet dangling uselessly near her head as Leonora locked her into a full nelson, her arms pressing behind Kaelen’s thighs, spreading her wide in an obscene, helpless display. The fox girl let out a breathy moan, biting her lip at the sudden shift—completely suspended, vulnerable, every inch of her trembling with nervous excitement and aching need.

Her cock stood proud and twitching, a thick, flushed pillar of need leaking steadily as it pulsed in the open air. Each twitch sent a fresh bead of slick dribbling down the underside, catching in the tight curve where her balls met her soaked, swollen folds. Her pussy, puffy and glistening, peeked out beneath the taut, aching weight of her sac, each labored breath making her entire lower half throb with a desperation so potent it practically shimmered in the air. The scent of her arousal—sweet, sharp, and impossible to ignore—only intensified the heavy fog of lust around them.

Aria stood between her thighs, her own massive wolf cock swollen and fierce, the head glistening and throbbing with anticipation. It bobbed slightly with each step, pre-cum leaking in steady pulses, coating her shaft in a sticky sheen that glimmered in the soft light. Her balls hung low, bloated and full, radiating heat as they swayed slightly with her movements, promising an overwhelming, unrelenting flood of molten seed. Her gaze locked onto Kaelen’s trembling, stretched open form, her heart thundering with possessive hunger and raw intent.

She pressed the thick tip beneath Kaelen’s heavy sac, letting the heat and slickness of her slit kiss against the flushed shaft, the contact obscene in its intimacy. The sensation was electric—Kaelen’s whole body arched involuntarily, toes curling as her breath hitched in a soft, broken cry. Aria ground her cock slowly, deliberately against those needy folds, dragging the thick head along the drenched entrance with a teasing roll of her hips. Every ridge of her shaft pressed against Kaelen’s soaked lips, the pressure firm, slow, deliberate—not yet pushing in, but letting her feel everything. Every vein, every pulse, every promise of what was to come.

Kaelen’s back arched harder, her head thrown back as a cry of aching need spilled from her lips. Her entire body trembled, dangling helplessly in Leonora’s iron grip, spread wide and open, each nerve ending aflame. Her thighs twitched with each motion, her cock leaking in frantic pulses, her folds fluttering under the teasing pressure of Aria’s monstrous length. Aria’s own breath grew shallow, her body thrumming with restraint and lust, savoring every inch of heat, every tremble, every needy, helpless sound that Kaelen gave her.

Until it was even enough for Aria—which, to be fair, didn't take long at all—the primal heat raging through her blood took full command. That instinct to breed, to rut, to claim and dominate surged to the surface with a blinding need. She didn't hesitate. Her grip tightened, her breath caught, and then she pressed forward with purpose. The moment her fat, glistening cock breached Kaelen’s soaked, twitching folds, she gasped—fuck, it was heavenly. Hot, clutching, perfect. The fox girl’s slick passage enveloped her like it had been made for her, squeezing and fluttering around her girth like a living vice.

Aria’s hips jerked forward with a force she hadn't intended, a low growl rumbling from deep in her throat as her cock was swallowed inch by trembling inch. Her muscles shuddered as she sank deeper, the heat and pressure driving her mad with need. She didn’t even try to slow down—couldn't—her body betrayed her, thrusting forward harder than she meant to, but gods, it felt so fucking right. She was barely aware of Leonora’s hungry voice from the side, but the words sank into her fogged brain like honeyed praise. “Fuck, look at that,” the lioness moaned, her amber eyes locked on the obscene view of Aria’s thick, drooling shaft being devoured by Kaelen’s desperate cunt.

Kaelen whimpered beneath her, the sound guttural and laced with mindless need. Her own flushed cock bounced with every thrust, twitching helplessly, a fat bead of pre-cum trembling at the tip before spilling over. She was being wrecked, and Aria wasn’t even all the way in yet. Her pussy clamped down with greedy, fluttering spasms, milking Aria’s cock like it needed to drain her. The heat, the tightness, the fucking pressure—it was a dream made flesh. Aria’s breath hitched as she felt her knot—so massive, so firm—pressed insistently at the threshold.

“And buried to the knot,” Aria managed, voice shaking, a breathless moan breaking past her lips as she sank all the way in. The thick, engorged bulb at the base of her shaft ground against Kaelen’s soaked, swollen folds with slow, torturous pressure, pulsing and demanding entry. It throbbed like a second heart, insistent and rhythmic, each pulse a plea to tie, to lock, to claim. But Aria resisted. Barely.

Instead, she drew back, inch by trembling inch, until only the flared canine tip remained lodged inside. Her breath came in shivering gasps, the anticipation twisting in her gut like fire. Every nerve ending in Aria’s body screamed with hypersensitive delight as the cool air kissed her saliva-slick shaft, the contrast between Kaelen’s searing heat and the sudden emptiness making her cock pulse violently. Her hands gripped Kaelen’s hips harder, fingers sinking into tender skin, and then she surged forward again—hard, fast, with every ounce of dominance and hunger blazing in her bones.

The sound it made was utterly obscene: a wet, echoing slap that seemed to shake the air around them, followed by Kaelen’s shattered moan that tore from her throat like an animal in heat. Her pussy clamped down with desperate strength, like it was trying to drag Aria deeper, to keep her, to never let her go. Each convulsion of those slick walls was a wordless plea, a demand, a whimpering chorus of more. Aria’s cock throbbed in response, each beat making her hips snap forward again. And again. Her thrusts became brutal, relentless, a staccato rhythm of ruin that left Kaelen gasping, writhing, helpless in Leonora’s arms.

Aria’s growl was low and primal, vibrating from deep in her chest as she began to roll her body with an unyielding rhythm, grinding with full intent at the apex of every thrust. She wasn't just fucking Kaelen—she was conquering her. Her shaft ground along every hypersensitive ridge inside, teasing that one perfect spot that made Kaelen see stars. The fox girl’s cries had gone breathless now, reduced to broken syllables and breathy gasps that only made Aria thrust harder, faster, rougher. She could feel every squeeze, every tremor, every flutter of Kaelen's greedy, clutching cunt—and it fed her. Drove her.

She rode that high like a storm—wild, blistering, unstoppable. Her knot swelled with each push, slamming repeatedly against Kaelen’s swollen lips with wet, squelching pressure, each time begging for entry. Not yet, not yet, not yet. She wanted Kaelen to feel it, to dread it, to need it. That thick bulb smeared slick and pre against trembling folds with every impact, making the squelch louder, wetter, filthier. Her eyes locked on Kaelen’s face—flushed, dazed, mouth open in a perfect O of helpless need. She was breaking, unraveling, and Aria would not stop until she did.

Every pump, every grind, every sinful inch was a declaration of war on Kaelen’s sanity. Aria was going to ruin her, split her open on that cock until the fox girl begged for the knot—until her trembling pussy sucked it in with a final, desperate clench. She wanted Kaelen to remember this. To ache for it. To wake up every morning after with the phantom stretch still throbbing between her thighs.

Kaelen’s cock stood like a proud monument to lust, thick and flushed and veiny, drooling slick like a faucet as it twitched with every brutal thrust Aria pounded into her soaked, trembling cunt. The air was humid with sweat and musk, a fog of pheromones so thick it clung to the skin, and every time Aria drove her monstrous cock deeper, Kaelen’s whole body jerked like she’d been hit with lightning. Her tight, desperate pussy gripped Aria’s cock like a velvet noose, fluttering around the veined girth, squeezing in frantic pulses that made Aria groan and buck even harder.

Leonora leaned in, her lips brushing Kaelen’s ear as her voice came out as a filthy purr, “You’re such a good sister for letting Aria fuck you like this… gods, you look so fucking hot like this.” Her words sent visible shudders down Kaelen’s spine. The fox girl didn’t speak—she couldn’t. Her mouth worked uselessly around the obscene moans spilling out, gasping between sobbed-out curses. “F-fuck, holy fuck—Aria! Fuck!” she squealed, every breath hitched, broken, wrecked. Her eyes were already rolled back, lips drooling spit, brain rapidly dissolving in the heat and pressure.

Each thrust from Aria slammed home with the kind of force that shook the whole body—meaty impacts echoing in the sweat-soaked space as her hips clapped into Kaelen’s raised ass. Her balls, tight and overworked, swung with lewd weight beneath her, slapping noisily against Kaelen’s ass with every rutting slam. Her thick shaft, soaked with Kaelen’s juices and her own endless pre, gleamed under the low light, twitching madly inside that perfect vice grip of slick, convulsing flesh.

Aria’s breath came in ragged pants, every nerve screaming for release. Her mind was a fogged-over inferno, consumed by the need to knot, to lock, to breed. Her thrusts turned savage—animalistic—spurred on by Kaelen’s increasingly broken moans and the slick, wet clench that milked her with every pull. Her fat knot, swollen and ravenous, battered at Kaelen’s twitching entrance like a battering ram, smearing slick and heat with every demand for entrance.

Leonora’s voice didn’t stop—she fed the moment with encouragement and lewd praise, holding Kaelen up with strength and care even as her fingers danced over the fox’s heaving body. “That’s it, just like that. Let her fuck you stupid. Gods, you look so fucking pretty like this. Look at you… cock drooling, cunt swallowing cock like it’s what you were made for…”

Kaelen wailed. Her voice broke on a high-pitched, helpless moan as Aria’s next thrust sent her cock jerking and spasming, thick gobs of pre shooting up her belly as her whole body trembled. She was right there—right there. Aria could feel it in the way her pussy clenched like a vice, milked her cock with frantic, fluttering spasms that turned her bones to jelly.

And Aria? She wasn’t faring much better. Her hips moved on instinct now, her voice low and guttural with every growled breath, her entire world narrowed to the overwhelming pressure of Kaelen’s greedy folds and the promise of that final, locking thrust. She was on the edge—no, beyond it—balancing on the precipice of release.

“Fuck—fuck, you feel too good…” Aria choked, her voice shaking as her hands locked down tighter on Kaelen’s thighs. She was going to snap. Any second now.

And she wouldn’t—couldn’t—stop until that fat, swollen knot was buried inside, stretching Kaelen open with every demanding push. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she slammed forward with all the force her trembling hips could muster, that bulging base slapping wetly against Kaelen’s dripping slit, coating it with slick and the heat of a thousand desperate thrusts. She growled—a low, savage sound that rattled in her chest—her muscles coiled, her thighs flexed, and she shoved forward with an animalistic hunger that shook her bones.

Kaelen’s entire body seized up in unrelenting pleasure, her back arched in a violent, gorgeous tremor, a high-pitched whine tearing from her throat. Her eyes rolled back, mouth slack, drool stringing from her tongue as Aria’s knot crushed against her spasming entrance, demanding entry like it owned her. “O-oh fuck!” she sobbed, the sound wrecked and wild—and then Aria slammed forward one final time.

The barrier gave.

It was like popping through a seal—the swollen knot slipped inside with a slick, obscene squelch, Kaelen’s cunt stretching wide and sucking her in like it needed to be filled. Aria’s entire body locked up as bliss detonated inside her, a molten eruption of heat and light and sensation that shattered her thoughts. She screamed—a raw, animal sound—and her cock throbbed violently as she came.

Hot, sticky cum exploded from her in thick, creamy ropes, pumping into Kaelen with wild, helpless abandon. Her fat knot locked them together with a fleshy, sealing pop, sealing every pulsing blast of seed inside that clenching, insatiable pussy. Kaelen howled in ecstasy, voice cracking into raw, primal screams as her own climax detonated like a supernova. Her cock jerked violently without a single touch, spasming and firing thick, messy ropes of cum up her belly, some reaching her breasts, some painting her throat as her entire body convulsed in orgasmic surrender. Her cunt clamped down with greedy rhythm, milking Aria’s monstrous shaft for every last, searing-hot drop of cum. The way those velvety inner walls fluttered—slick, spasming, absolutely drenched—drove Aria’s orgasm into the stratosphere, dragging it out into a savage, spine-bending marathon of unrelenting ecstasy that erased every thought but one: more.

Each pulse of release came with its own crashing wave of bliss. Aria’s balls clenched and heaved, emptying themselves with molten heat into Kaelen’s flooded cunt, and she could feel the sheer volume of it stretching the fox girl’s body to its limit. Her lower belly was visibly bloating, taut and rounded with the sheer force of the filling. Seed sloshed inside her, trapped by the locked-in knot, as Kaelen trembled and gasped, unable to stop the spasms rippling through her ruined, twitching frame. Her own cock was still twitching uselessly, sticky globs of seed dripping from the tip and down the slope of her taut, cum-laced stomach.

Aria was trembling now, held up only by the iron-tight seal of her knot, her entire body pulsing in slow, aftershock waves of white-hot release. Her brain was obliterated into static, her thoughts nothing but fragments—heat, knot, hers, full, more. She sagged forward with a heavy moan, collapsing against Kaelen’s cum-slicked chest, breath ragged, muscles limp, her cock still twitching as more cum oozed into the already overstuffed cunt sealed around her.

Kaelen was gone. Utterly wrecked. Her head lolled back against Leonora’s shoulder, her mouth slack and panting, tongue barely hanging out like a fucked-out bitch in heat. Her eyes were glassy, lids fluttering, pupils blown so wide they swallowed the green of her irises. Her body trembled and spasmed in random aftershocks, like every nerve had been fried. Her twitching cock gave a final, useless jerk, drooling a bead of cum down her belly as her pussy milked Aria’s still-hard cock with lazy, greedy clenches.

She was held upright only by Leonora’s powerful arms—and the knot that kept them locked together, cock to cunt, hot and tight and overflowing.

“Oh wow, that looked fucking great,” Leonora purred with a wicked, satisfied grin.

Aria could only moan in response, lips parted, eyes glazed, her body trembling from overstimulation and the impossible euphoria still cresting inside her. Her cock gave a final twitch inside that cum-stuffed cunt—and she smiled faintly, drunk on the moment.

But the fire that still clung to Aria’s loins wasn’t done. No, it wasn’t even close. What had been momentarily doused by the sheer intensity of her last climax now blazed back to life with a vengeance—hotter, meaner, ravenous. That brief lull of cooling release only stirred the embers deeper, like tossing kindling on a still-glowing hearth. Her cock throbbed with renewed fury, harder than it had been all day, swollen with a defiant hunger that refused to fade. It was like molten metal poured into her veins, scalding her from the inside out, and each heartbeat sent more molten lust surging to her already-fattened knot. Her loins weren’t just warm—they were a battleground of fire and lust, and her shaft stood rigid, pulsing, twitching like a beast demanding another hunt.

Strength surged through her like a second wind, pure adrenaline spiked with need. Her limbs tingled with purpose as she growled low, dragging herself up despite the pulsing knot buried inside Kaelen. Leonora blinked as Aria leaned in and kissed her, not just with passion, but with raw, primal claiming. Lips met, breath mingled, and Leonora gave a throaty moan into it, her amber eyes flashing wide for a beat of surprise before curling into a smirk.

"Oh wow," she breathed against Aria’s lips, her voice heavy with amusement and awe. "Still some left in the tank?"

Aria pulled back only enough to bare her teeth in a hungry, feral grin. “Get her on the couch.” The words were half-command, half-plea, soaked in the kind of hunger that made her voice quake. And Leonora, ever the queen of the pride, didn’t even blink—she rose to the call with a confidence that only made her hotter. "Right on it, girl," she purred, nodding smoothly.

Of course, there was the awkward logistics of it. Aria was still locked inside Kaelen, her fat knot snug in that overstretched, twitching cunt, slickness dribbling in thick waves between them. But Leonora handled it like a pro. She bent, strong arms looping around Aria’s body, lifting her with a practiced ease that spoke volumes of her power. Aria couldn’t help the jolt of thrill that shot through her—being carried, even while still tied, was a whole new level.

Leonora laid her down gently on the couch, easing her weight onto the cushions while Kaelen whimpered softly, her exhausted body now draped bonelessly across both of them. With practiced grace, Leonora sat herself down behind her, those powerful hips flexing as she lowered herself. She carefully arranged Kaelen’s head into her lap, cradling it with casual intimacy, brushing a sweat-drenched strand of silver hair behind one of those twitching fox ears. Her fingers moved in slow, calming strokes—gentle and patient—while Aria pulsed and twitched, still buried deep, her heart racing as that heat roared to life once more.

But before she could begin to move again, the soft creak of the front door cut through the haze. A cheerful voice echoed down the hall—"We’re back!" Marielle’s warm tone filled the room like a balm, only to falter into a stunned pause as her and Liora’s eyes landed on the couch. The room stank of sex and sweat, heavy with heat and need. The sight before them was nothing short of depraved: Kaelen was utterly ruined, cock still twitching in the air like a flag of surrender, her flushed chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Her pussy, stretched wide around Aria’s monstrous knot, oozed thick cream with every slow, grinding motion of Aria’s hips. Leonora cradled Kaelen’s head in her lap, gently stroking silver-streaked hair while Aria suckled greedily on Kaelen’s tender, pert nipples—her lips latched, tongue swirling, each movement coaxing soft, breathless moans from the dazed fox girl.

Marielle sighed—a sound that carried more amusement than concern, her lush frame jiggling as she stepped further into the room, tits swaying hypnotically beneath the thin fabric of her apron. "Honey, you’re still going? I thought I drained you dry before I went out?" she cooed with a teasing lilt, hands on her hips, though her eyes lingered with quiet admiration.

Leonora chuckled deeply, answering for Aria, who was far too busy—her hips still rolling in slow, luxurious circles, her mouth latched onto Kaelen’s sensitive nipple, tongue flicking and swirling with practiced indulgence. Her moans vibrated through the fox girl’s chest, making Kaelen arch and whimper, her entire body trembling in that endless, glistening loop of overstimulation. "It’s been what, an hour? Nothing to worry about," Leonora said, voice thick with amusement, as her fingers combed lovingly through Kaelen’s tousled hair. She scratched lightly behind one of those twitching fox ears, earning a soft, breathless gasp as Kaelen shivered. Her body was practically boneless, her thighs twitching erratically as Aria’s unyielding rhythm kept her pinned to the couch, every roll of the hips a slow, grinding stroke of heat and purpose. Her eyes fluttered half-open, glassy and unfocused, her breath stuttering in broken little sobs of pleasure, lips parted as she clung weakly to Aria’s shoulders. The fox girl’s tail gave an involuntary twitch, a helpless flick beneath her, barely responding to the world around her—completely, utterly wrecked.

Marielle’s brow arched as she shared a glance with Liora, who had silently stepped beside her, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. "We’ve been gone for five hours. It’s evening, darling," she said softly, a note of motherly worry creeping into her voice. Liora made a soft, contemplative sound, her eyes narrowing as if considering a puzzle.

"I mean… at least she slept for a bit," Leonora added, trying to sound optimistic.

But Liora tilted her head. "I’m not sure about that," she said slowly, dragging each word with lazy precision. "I may or may not have been in her room… from dawn to lunch." Her voice dropped to a whisper, but it cut through the air like a blade.

Silence fell. Even Kaelen’s soft moans seemed to pause for a breath, the room suddenly still—except for the wet, rhythmic schlick of Aria’s knot grinding gently inside the fox girl’s swollen cunt and the obscene sucking sounds of her greedy mouth at Kaelen’s sensitive nipples.

"Are you telling me," Leonora said slowly, almost disbelieving, "she’s been fucking the entire day and her heat still hasn’t cooled?"

Marielle blinked, her expression flickering from disbelief to focused resolve in a heartbeat. "Alright," she said firmly, tugging the straps of her dress off her shoulders, the motion causing her massive tits to bounce free with a heavy sway. "We need to drain her properly. This is going to take a team effort, girls." Her voice was calm, even nurturing, but her presence radiated undeniable, commanding warmth.

And suddenly Aria found herself surrounded—four stunning, heat-drunk women closing in on her from every angle, their bodies glistening in the heavy musk-thick air.