"You think your fur is white?" He laughed harshly as his cock slipped between the downy fur adorning her breasts. "Just wait till I cum on you. Buckets of it. That'll turn your gray spots white."
"That's enough foreplay." He rumbled abruptly. "Ever been mounted by a stallion before?"
Timura shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
"Ha." He brayed. "Get on all fours 'cause I'm gonna ride your ass."
Timura crouched on her paws, flipping up her tail to expose herself. The stallion grabbed her tail roughly, jerking her ass higher in the air. Timura whimpered, not from the pain, but from feeling the head of his cock pressing against her. Her stomach churned, but whether from fear or excitement she couldn't tell. It gave a lurch when he grabbed her thighs with strong, stubby fingers so she couldn't pull away. With one hand he encircled the head of his cock, forcing it into her pussy.
"Ow!" She yipped as he nipped her shoulder. His only response was a loud whinny as the head slipped inside. The point was thinner than she had expected, and it wasn't much more difficult to slip inside than the musketeer wolf she'd last slept with. The tip may not have been much bigger, but it just kept coming.
"Please go slow." She pleaded.
"Oh, yeah? I see right through you whitefurs. You act so cold and proper, but it's all a lie." His weight pressed down on her, driving his monster deeper and deeper.
"Ohhh..." She groaned as the enormous penis forced her canal farther open than it had ever been.
"Like you didn't know exactly what you'd be getting when you come whoring to Chamilla." He said as the tip hit bottom. "You get off on horsecock, that's why you're here. Or maybe one horse isn't enough for a whore like you? Should I call my servant Bor and have him do your ass while I ream your pussy?" He laughed as a particularly hard thrust left Timura moaning in reply.
"Oh, damn, look at the way that white hole is sucking on my brown cock." The stallion leered. Timura forced herself to time her breaths as he rammed his cock inside of her, trying to pull her cervix away from his insistent thrusts.
It did feel good, she admitted to herself. Up until that last second when he bottomed out it was great. If his strokes were just a little shorter she'd be coming like a train pulling into the station. But--oh!--every time she got close a particularly hard thrust would send her back down.
"Uhnn..." He whinnied and churned his hips faster. "Take it, bitch!" Yelling, he pulled out of her at the last second and flipped her over with one strong hand. Before she could catch her breath he spattered her with a fountain of cream that left ribbons in the fur of her face and his salty taste in her mouth.
"Ahhh..." He collapsed on the bed beside her. "Damn. I have to hand it to Madam Acalia. You whitefurs whores are always worth the money."
Timura gritted her teeth and tried to wipe the cum out of her eyes. He'd find out what kind of a whore she was when he woke up. Let's see you laugh then, she thought bitterly.
After the stallion caught his breath he brusquely dragged her into the bath, squatting in one of the alcoves surrounding the pool while she rubbed the sweat off his flanks. Timura moved gingerly, trying not to inflame the ache in her cervix. She washed the stallion's cum out of her fur and the two took a brief dip in the pool. Returning to bed, the exhausted stallion fell asleep almost immediately.
When his snores waxed loud and regular Timura stole out of bed and crept over to a niche in the wall that contained an arm-sized container of whalebone ivory, cracked with age. A blackened leather strap held it closed. For a moment her curiosity got the better of her and she paused to look around at the stallion's collection--after all, she deserved something for herself after the stallion's abuse. The horse seemed to have a thing for islander artifacts: wooden statues to island Loas, a necklace of shark's teeth, and a leaping fish of flaked obsidian. Perhaps some might even be items of Power.
From just behind her shoulder she heard the soft rumble of her sire's laughter and she spun around, eyes wide. Her heart caught in her throat as she looked wildly around the room, but she was alone.
"Sire..." She whispered, but the only answer came from voices in the street outside.
Blinking back tears, she turned back to the artifacts and bowed, mumbling an apology to the unknown islander god whose icon she was about to steal. She reached for the container with trembling paws, then stopped, forcing herself to breath deeply. Steeling her courage, she seized it quickly, before she could change her mind, and padded silently to the window, where she dropped it to Scherade, standing in the street below.
Evidently the deity in question did not accept her apology. Coming to escort her out of the house, the stallion's manservant entered just in time to see her thievery. His nostrils flared around the brass ring in his nose and he dropped the money that was to have been her payment. Eyes wide in panic, Timura sprang for the opposite door, leading to the parlor and the bath beyond, making the globes of her breasts bounce and her tail unfurl behind her. Closing the latch, she threw open the parlor window and peered out, disappointed to see nothing but the paving stones three stories below. Scherade was nowhere in sight.
He bellowed, and she knew that he would soon wake the entire household. The door boomed under the hammer of the bull's massive bulk, and she knew the inlaid wood wouldn't hold for long. Her eyes flicked around the room, desperately searching for something she could use. The bath! She thought. She moved for the stairs just as the door cracked under a second impact.
The tile floor offered no purchase for her claws and Timura skidded to a stop at the bottom, chest heaving as she looked around. The moonlight from narrow vents at the top of the walls let her see as if it was day and she edged around the pool, pressed onwards by the sound of the bull and his master coming downstairs. Reaching the other side, she scanned the walls, searching for a door.
"Mistress Svin, I know that haven't been to your shrine since Sire left, but I meant to, I really did." Timura prayed hurriedly. "And maybe sometimes I replaced the coins he gave me for offerings with smaller denominations when he wasn't looking...but I never snuck out to pee in the shrine garden like Filalie did. Ever!" She reassured the goddess. "I promise I'll pay it all back. And I'll go to temple twice a year, no, once a month, just...help me out here, okay?"
As sincere as her prayer may have been, the panther goddess's avatar did not appear to savage the tabby's pursuers.
"Catch her and she's yours." The stallion growled in the dark. Timura doubted that would end well. "You take that side, I'll take this one.
"Is there another way out?"
"Not over there." The merchant jeered.
Then there was no way to escape. The fur rose on Timura's back, imagining the pain of being bull raped.
Unbidden, her sire's words came to mind. She'd been just a kitten, hounded by bullies on the playground. When her sire discovered the bruises, he'd sat her on one knee and scratched behind one ear until she'd relaxed, leaning into his strong chest. Then he spread his other paw, claws out. "Snowbell," his private name for her came from the way her spots resembled the flower clusters growing at home in mountainous Shael, "if you can't escape, pounce when they least expect it." He'd said, closing his claws with a snap. She'd endured two more days of bullying, until they'd made the mistake of picking on her little cousin too, who'd just started school.
When her Sire had emerged from the Headmistress's office that afternoon, she was sitting on a bench shivering in fear. Without a word he took her in his arms, carrying her up the hill and home. He made mugs of steaming hot milk and passed her one. "Pouncing when you can't escape is one thing," He said earnestly, then bared his fangs in a wide grin. "but leaping down on them from a tree while they're trying to run away from you is a bit excessive."
Timura's ears went back and her claws extended against the tiled floor of the bath. She could wound one of them, at least, but their thick hides would limit the damage. If Teacher Shirvati were here he would rip out their throats and spill their entrails into the pool, but she was too small and no match for their strength. Once they caught hold of her the fight would end quickly.
What would Scherade do? Timura forced her claws back into their sheaths and tried to analyze the situation the way her clever friend would.
"You take that side, I'll take this one." She heard.
She could see the two fumble as they worked their way towards her. They moved slowly, feeling into each alcove to make sure she wasn't hiding there. Dayfur though they were, their eyes would eventually adjust and the chase would end. She had to make her move immediately. But how? Scherade wouldn't fight them, she'd find a way to escape.
Without making a sound, she dropped to the tiles, her thick coat protecting her from the chill. Slinking towards them instead of away from them, she approached the pool. The men were getting closer, and Timura hoped they'd be too worried about checking the alcoves to notice her slip into the pool. She froze when she heard the ripples from her entry lapping over the drain.
"Hey, did you hear that?" The bull asked. Holding her breath, Timura waited, but the other shushed him into silence. When she saw the two figures moving again, she submerged, closing her nostrils and swimming easily with strokes of her broad paws. Climbing out at the opposite side, she edged towards the stairs.
"There she is--by the stairs!" The stallion bellowed. "Get her!"
Abandoning stealth, Timura took the stairs in two long bounds and sprinted though the broken door into the bedroom. She swept her payment off the floor and fled. By the time the two arrived, she had disappeared through another door, heading downstairs to freedom.
"Yearrrgh! You'll pay for this, bitch! I swear by the spilled seed of Gahnos I'll make you pay!" The stallion bellowed and slammed his hand into the wall hard enough to make the house shake.
Heedless of her nudity Timura ran outside, leaving vortexes of smoke in her wake. Flitting through the red-lit shadows like a bat she vanished from sight, not stopping until she reached the inn where her partner Scherade was waiting. She slipped in quietly and bounded upstairs, but not fast enough to avoid the barkeep's leering gaze.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." Scherade said, getting up off the bed as her partner entered. The black fox was tall and slender, with a bushy tail almost as long as her body. The two gold rings in her ear gleamed redly in the brimstone lamp above a soft ruff of hair that cascaded around an oval face and wide, almond-shaped eyes. Under the silk robe she wore, her breasts sat high on her chest; smaller than Timura's but more perky.
"Do you have it?" Timura asked eagerly between breaths, eyes casting around the room.
"Fear not, darling. It's here, safe and sound. I see you got your money, too." Scherade noted, looking at the bills in Timura's paw.
"Hey, I earned that."
"I'm sure you did, whore." Scherade's earrings tinkled as she laughed.
"It's a good thing Sire isn't here to see this." Timura said, ears drooping at the thought.
"If it's any consolation, I'm proud of his little kitten." Scherade nuzzled her ear.
Scherade responded with a kiss, sliding her fingers down the tabby's back. Timura's body responded, and the kiss breathed life into the embers that still glowed from the excitement of feeling eyes on her body as she ran through the streets naked. Her ears rose and her long tongue lapped against her partner's muzzle as her paws fumbled with the tie of Scherade's robe.
"Wait." Timura said breathlessly.
"Hm?" Scherade licked her face.
"We have to leave." Timura insisted, breaking their embrace. "One of his servants saw me. They almost caught me in the bedroom. I'm sure the stallion will send his servants out to ask if anyone's seen a naked white lynx--and the bartender definitely spotted me."
"O-okay." Scherade's eyes widened. This wasn't in the plan. Thinking quickly, she swept the pair's belongings into a leather rucksack while Timura put on a dress.
"The back window. We'll wait at the docks tonight." Scherade gestured and the pair slipped out on to the narrow balcony that hung over the courtyard. Too nervous to question her partner, Timura dropped first, her muscular legs cushioning the fall; Scherade dropped the rucksack to her and followed, rolling gracefully as she landed. Staying close together, the pair disappeared into the night.
While Timura had been working her way into Madam Acalia's good graces, Scherade had booked passage out. Knowing the stallion would search for them at the airship moorage where they'd arrived, Scherade led Timura to the harbor, already loud with the noises of ships impatient to sail at first light. Under the pall of the brimstone lamps loading engines chuffed along rusting steel tracks, and longshoremen spat brownish phlegm on the cobblestones. They picked their way between brick warehouses to the harbor's outer rim, where loads were smaller, pier rates were lower, and ships skated the edge of bankruptcy.
In her prime, the Lucky Twelve had carried ore from the Loess range, feeding Chamilla's hungry forges, but the new ocean-going paddlewheels were driving the Lucky and her sisters out of business. Hoping to catch passenger traffic, the Lucky's owner raised the quarterdeck to add cabins, but airship companies were skimming off the cream of that trade, leaving the Lucky with the scraps--like a pair of amateur thieves fleeing a botched job.
The first mate met them atop the gangplank. With his slicked-back head fur and lace ruffles, the ape looked out of place amidst the peeling paint and soot-streaked whitewash, not at all like the shirtless monkeys in patched trousers the females could see moving further down the deck.
"Ah, serenitas, so glad to have you aboard." He gushed. "What a privilege to have such beauty aboard our poor vessel. My name is Nummos--now please, let me show to your cabins." Several of the crew stopped to gawk at the two, whose long dresses didn't hide their unusual coloring or Timura's voluptuous curves. Hoping to avoid attention, Timura allowed him to take her arm and escort her to the rear. His long fingers brushed her breast as he reached for her traveling case.
"Will Captain Valens be along to see us before we cast off?" Scherade asked sharply.
"He's--" Nummos' face clouded. "He's busy, I expect, but I'll inquire. Watch your head now." He led them through a hatch, with rubber seals that were stiff and cracked with age. The passageway ran perpendicular to the ship's length, turning aft at each end. He turned left, then right, ending in a short passageway onto which five more hatches opened, four on the left and one straight ahead. Opening the second one he swept his hand in a bow.
"Your cabin, serenita." He said to Timura. The cabin was just wide enough for her to slip between the bed along one wall and the two rattan chairs propped against the other. "You may store your things here." He said, sliding open a wall panel to reveal a built-in dresser. "I apologize for the inconvenience to gentlefur like yourselves, but the washroom is the--."
"Captain Valens assured me that we would not need to share the facilities with other passengers." Scherade interrupted.
"Oh yes," He said smoothly, not taking his eyes off of Timura, "I don't believe anyone will be in the other cabin on this side, so you can be assured of privacy." He put Timura's case down on her bed, then motioned Scherade to her identical cabin behind the next door. Without bothering to help Scherade with her bag, he informed them that the first meal would be served three hours after dawn, but for their own safety, they should stay in their cabins until the Lucky had put to sea and nothing was moving on deck.
Trying to convince herself that she should be glad her cleavage didn't draw this obsequious ape's attention the way Timura's did, Scherade stood at the porthole fuming. It took ages for him to leave, which he only did after Timura finally promised him that she would allow him to escort her to breakfast. Once he was gone, Scherade began to put her things away, slamming the drawers shut with unnecessary violence.
If the fox's vision matched that of her lynx friend, though, she might have seen a bulky figure emerge from under a warehouse awning and stride down the pier towards the Lucky. Unnoticed by any of the crew, it doffed its wide-brimmed hat and made its way silently towards the rear of the ship, followed by the lingering scent of tropical spices.
The gratuitous vehemence calmed her somewhat, enough to open the door when Timura called softly from outside. The lynx had changed into a robe the color of her green eyes, and Scherade let her in with a smile. The two brought their muzzles together, exchanging licks, until Scherade pushed Timura away with a sly grin and a shake of her head that made her earrings tinkle.
"We did it." She said.
"Hard to believe, isn't it."
"Now that we're safe, I thought we should celebrate."
"What did you have in mind?" Timura purred.
"You remember that machinator's apprentice I told you about?" Scherade said.
"The one that's hot for you?" Timura replied.
"Oh, yes. He said his master would be upcountry visiting a mine yesterday, so I...paid him a little visit."
"Just a 'little visit?'" Timura bared her teeth.
"Trust me, there was nothing 'little' about him." Scherade smiled back. "Anyway, while I was there I bought something special to celebrate our success with." Taking a bundle of cloth from the table, she unfolded it to reveal a pair of segmented brass cylinders, no longer than a finger, with a flared ring at one end. A thin band of black rubber separated each of the segments.
"Looks like a Clockwork Roger. For a virgin, maybe." Timura arched one eyebrow. "I sure hope your apprentice friend fed you something bigger than that."
"Just wait, you'll see." Scherade smirked. "Now be a good little whore, dear, and bend over." Timura did as she was bid, kneeling on the narrow bed and raising her tail to expose the places between her legs.
"Oh, you poor dear." Scherade stared at the puffy red lips of Timura's pussy. "Was it painful?" She asked.
"At first." Timura admitted. "I'm still a little sore, actually. Be gentle, will you?"
"Don't worry, kitty. I have other plans tonight."
Reaching with a paw into the vessel of oil she'd placed on the dresser, Scherade let it drip onto one cylinder. The oily brass gleamed scarlet in the brimstone light from outside, like the red flesh of dog's cock. Dipping her finger once more, she returned to Timura, letting the oil dribble at the base of her tail. Holding the cylinder by the ring, she let the brass slide along Timura's oily rear, pausing to press lightly at her ass.
"Ummm..." Timura hummed as her stomach tightened.
"Knock, knock." Scherade responded, pushing harder.
"Ugh!" Timura grunted as the cold metal forced her open, and the rod plunged inexorably inside until the ring sat comfortably between her cheeks.
"Now it's my turn. You lay down." Scherade said, letting her rope drop off her shoulders. She stood by the bed and lifted one hind leg, pulling open her furry slit. Positioning her crotch above Timura's face, she lined the second cylinder up with her own rear, positioned so Timura could see every detail. Absently Timura glanced at the tracery of calligraphy tattooed in vibrant color almost hidden in the fur on her friend's lean buttocks, the mysterious remainder of a cult initiation. No matter how Timura asked, her partner refused to say any more about it.