Exile Amongst Beasts Ch. 02

Author's note: Sorry for the wait! Life got crazy again. I might have wrote more story than intended, so each chapter might turn out to be more connected than I thought. I have a few more creatures in mind, but I would love to hear what non-human characters you all want to read about! I appreciate your comments and suggestions!

Disclaimer: Rape and non consent/reluctance sex are one of the themes in this series. It is also exclusively either anthro or feral furry male on a humanoid female protagonist. That said, everything written is strictly fantasy and I do not condone any sexual violence.

***

I trekked along a winding creek, the late afternoon sunshine warming my skin. The overly large clothing I took from a man I ambushed hung on my body like a robe. It was old and torn, but better than walking around naked, and washing it thankfully lessened the atrocious stink of human sweat. It has been two days since my encounter with the werewolves, and I have been trying to get as far from their campsite as possible.

The bruises and cuts those werewolves gave me has completely healed without leaving scars due to my dragon blood, and I no longer had to walk with my legs parted because of the pain in between them. I loathed those wolves for what they did to me, but they also taught me a few valuable lessons.

Firstly, choose your battles carefully. Secondly, you are on your own out here. Thirdly, expect no mercy. Not very different from the life of an orphan that I am no stranger to, but out in the world, there were still a law, or code for criminals like us. On this island, you either survive, or perish without anyone giving a single damn. So, I made a promise to myself; I will be the last one standing, and I will find a way out.

From what I heard on the outside, this island was surrounded by seashores lined with jagged rocks and unpredictable currents, so building a raft and paddling away was out of the question. Other than that, little information was known by the common folks as if one was being exiled here, they were as good as dead; no one has ever left this place to tell the tale. From what I have eavesdropped from a group of orcs, there were a few establishments scattered around the island, controlled by different gangs, but knowing men, I would be safer out here in the wilds.

With the stone spear and knife I took from that unfortunate man, who was now running around naked, save for his undergarment, I have been able to catch some small prey and fish. Now that I am a comfortable distance away from the wolves, I started looking for a place to settle down. I must first make sure I have a safe place to go back to before poking around and possibly interacting with the other inhabitants of this island.

Before long, I found myself going uphill, the creek getting wider and wider. When I finally made it to the top, what lied before me was a small lake, surrounded by forests. It looked to be a promising site for a camp, if not permeant, then at least for tonight. My legs were like lead from a whole day of hiking, but I circled the lake to make sure there weren't anyone else around.

After making sure it was safe, I took off my clothes and quickly washed myself in the lake, taking advantage of the remaining warm sunlight. I could not help but remember the feeling of the endless watery werewolf cum seeping out of my bruised womanhood. I also remembered how I begged as they bred me again and again, from fear but also the revoting pleasure I experienced while they did it. I had to close my eyes to fight back the waves of disgust for myself, and the fear of bearing unwanted children.

Taking a few deep breaths, I calmed myself down. I need to be strong out here, and dwelling on the past or worrying about the future would do me no good in the present.

I found a spot beside a few large boulders that was sheltered from the wind, and obscured from anyone that might follow the stream up to this lake like I did. The boulders almost formed a circle around this small space, becoming natural walls against predators and prying eyes. My dinner was a barbequed fish over a small campfire, far from tasty without salt or other condiments, some kind of starchy vegetable I found a rabbit eating, and a handful of berries. I even made a simple bed, raised from the ground with sticks for warmth, and covered by dry grass for comfort. If all goes well tonight and tomorrow, this might become my new home.

Clutching my spear, knife beside my stone pillow, I collapsed onto my bed. The small campfire was just enough to keep me from freezing to death in the middle of the night, and soon the days of traveling and sleeping with one eye open caught up to me. In a matter of minutes, I slipped into a dreamless slumber.

***

The night went by without any incidents, and I woke feeling refreshed, though my legs screamed at me for what I put them through. The day also went by without any surprises, so I decided that this would be my new home. Over the next few days, I slowly made my shelter more comfortable, making primitive tools for myself and wedged in a roof made with sticks and big leaves in between the boulders.

Hoping to further improve my humble dwelling, I got bolder and started venturing further away looking for materials. Being extra cautious, I have managed to avoid the other criminals, turning away from any suspicious sounds.

On this particular day, I got lucky and ran into a herd of blaze sheep on a field scattered with trees. Blaze sheep were a kind of weak magical beasts, their wool and skin were infused with fire element, enough for it to radiate warmth long after the sheep was dead. I was desperately in need of a blanket and warmer clothing, and bringing down one of these would solve my problems. However, being a magical beast meant that these sheep were more dangerous than your normal prey, so I decided to take a cautious approach.

My patience paid off as one sheep wandered away from its herd towards me. I jumped up and threw my spear with all my might, and watched it puncture the flesh of the sheep's shoulder. The rest of the herd exploded when the injured sheep cried in agony and scattered in different directions. I sprinted after the injured sheep, its wound slowing it down significantly. I caught up to it just before it made it into the denser forest, and sensing its imminent demise, it stopped and turned towards me.

I have read about their abilities, so I jumped back just in time when it reared up, stomped down, and created an explosion of fire with its front hooves. My dragon blood gave me a higher endurance to fire and heat, so I lunged at the sheep through the remaining flames once the initial explosion passed, and stabbed my stone blade deep into its neck.

I only scrambled up to put out the flames on my baggy trousers once the sheep went limp and collapsed onto the ground. Trading a few holes on my trousers for blaze sheep wool was worth it. With my heart still thumping, I decided to gut the sheep right there to lessen the weight. Just as I knelt down, however, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. It felt like I was being watched. I pulled my spear free and stood up, looking around for any possible threats. All was quiet and still, but the chill running down my spine continued to warn me.

Suddenly, something squeaked in the trees behind me. I spun around towards the dense forest, only to find slowly swaying branches, early autumn leaves lazily moving in the wind.

It's probably paranoia, I told myself. Just when I turned back to the sheep, a low crack came from behind me, and before my brain could react, my instinct as a rogue made me jumped to the right.

A spotted form landed at where I was. I held up my spear just in time to block the short sword that came down at me. To my horror, the wooden shaft was cut in two. It was a proper metal weapon, used by someone who possessed both technique and strength, so my primitive weapon stood no chance. I dropped the useless sticks and drew my stone blades, while barely dodged the swift swing of my enemy's other short sword. Openings were rare during his ferocious attacks, and I could sense his intent to kill. He was stronger than me, and just as fast. I was dealing with a fellow rogue, one much more experienced in fighting to the death.

"Hey! Stop! Can we talk about this?" I yelled as I increased the distance between us, getting kicked in the stomach in the process. We each got a few small cuts, but I felt like he was still half playing with me. I would rather keep my life if he was only after the sheep.

To my surprise, my opponent stopped, and only now did I get a good look at him. He was a Tabaxi, a jaguar to be exact. He wore no shirt, just a pair of pants with a belt for his weapons. His form was tall and lithe, but he was fit and moved with grace. Yellow fur with black spots covered his body, only fading to white in the front, and a jaguar head sat upon his humanoid torso. His feline eyes regarded me with a cold glare.

"What's there to talk about?" He snarled.

"Well, for starters, why are you trying to kill me? How have I offended you? Do you want my sheep?" I said through rugged breaths.

"You scared away my prey." He motioned towards the clearing as though it was obvious.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were hunting them too. You can have mine if you just let me walk away." I offered. Running was too dangerous, because a bow and a pack of arrows hung on his shoulder.

"I could have taken down at least two. I have been tracking this herd for two days." He replied as he resumed closing in.

I stepped back. "What could you possibly gain by killing me, then? I have nothing! I promise you will never see me again if you let me go." I have seen cold blooded killers, and he was no doubt one of them.

"You wasted my time." He repeated, his tone so icy that a chill ran down my spine.

Word was that cats were vengeful and stubborn, no matter the size. They were probably right.

"Right, but that was not intentional. How can I make it up to you?" I tripped on a tree root right after I said it, my butt painfully met the ground, but I did not dare to take my eyes off the jaguar.

The jaguar did not laugh at my fall, but contempt could be seen in his eyes. That contempt pierced the fear that had my heart racing, and I could not help but felt angry, not at the jaguar who wanted to kill me purely out of spite, but at myself. No, I expected the worst out of these criminals after the werewolves, but I despised this weakness and pleading. A life of a rogue has taught me to be flexible, but I always had a bottom line.

Watching the jaguar getting closer and closer, his swords glinting in the sun, I inhaled sharply. I will not be butchered without putting up a fight.

Thanks to my fall, I was in close proximity to dirt. I grabbed a handful and threw it at the jaguar's face when he was close enough, then launched myself at him. My shoulder hit him square in the chest, and I grabbed his wrists during the moment he tried to find balance, successfully smashing the swords out of his hands as we crashed onto the ground. I reached for the closer sword, he roared, and a flash of a furry paw came for my throat.

My instinct saved me from getting my throat ripped open, but the maneuver had costed me my advantage. I had forgotten that a cat's claws were formidable weapons on its own, even more natural to him than swords. Now that the jaguar had regained composure, he did not let this opportunity pass, but threw me off with a great force. Then, he was on top of me.

I grabbed his sword that was lying not far away, but he caught my swinging arm, and smashed the it out of my hand just as I did to him. I wiggled and thrashed under him, but could not push the tall jaguar off. I swung at him with my free fist, but he dodged it with ease.

He was toying with me, just like cats do to mice. The jaguar could have easily finished me off with his claws. In a desperate flash of rage, I wrapped my arm around his neck, hauled my upper body up while ignoring the pain on my pinned arm, and clamped my jaw around his neck. The rusty tase of blood filled my mouth, but I knew it was not lethal, for my canines were only a bit sharper than your average elf's.

My gamble paid off. An animal's first instinct was to always protect their throat first. The jaguar let out a furious roar, and I felt two big padded hands grabbed my shoulders. He tried to pull me away, but I held on with all my might. During the brief moment he was preoccupied, I reached around with my now free hand and felt his quiver. I pulled out an arrow just before my dull teeth slipped off from his fur, and jabbed it towards the side of his neck.

The jaguar's reflex was fast, and he moved just enough to miss the major blood vessels. My desperate act only gave him a long gash while he caught my arm and once again pinned me onto the ground. Next thing I know, sharp feline teeth were on my vulnerable throat, ready to puncture skin.

I tried. I really did. I thought to myself. Time seems to have slowed, my life flashed in front of my eyes, and I realized that I was fine with this. At least I died fighting. That moment, I no longer feared death. I relaxed my tensed muscles, and awaited the final bite.

However, the moment never came. The jaguar let go of my throat and sat back up. There was something else in his orange eyes.

"Why?" I asked, my heart still thumping like there was no tomorrow.

"Killing one who doesn't fear death always leaves a bad aftertaste, and you've fought well." He was also breathing rapidly. He leaned down, and I saw my own exhausted face in his eyes, blood smeared around my mouth. He reached out and wiped the crimson away, surprisingly gentle. "Plus, females are hard to come by on this island, and I need you to finish what you started."

My heart dropped, the joy of being alive quickly fading. Now that I was no longer actively fighting for my life, I could feel a hardness poking on my belly. Probably from all my squirming and wiggling as he sat on my hip.

A crow that came into view, high in the sky. I kind of wish he had just killed me.

And yet, I am alive, and life will go on, however rough it might be. Being assaulted might be inevitable, but perhaps I could get something good out of it. I sensed a certain kind of honour in this jaguar, ironic for a rogue and an exiled criminal, but suspected that if I were to make a deal with someone on this island, it should be him. So, I took a deep breath and threw myself out there.

"I know what you want, but you will let me go with the sheep afterwards, along with what you know about this island." I looked into his eyes.

His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with suspension. "You are in no position to bargain."

I scoffed. "You will gain nothing from killing me. I can swear on the God of Dragons that I will not seek revenge upon you. Better yet, I bet I can get into places you can't. You may be fast, but I can blend into shadows. There must be a way to get out of here. We can work together, unless you are fine with staying on this island forever, of course." Gears turned in my head in high speed, and I tried my best to appear calm. I have thought about finding an ally, and this jaguar would no doubt be a useful one.

The jaguar raised an eyebrow, the cat equivalent of it anyways. "A shadow dragon kin, then. You could indeed come in handy, I must say I'm a bit tempted. If anything, I admire your bravery, or foolishness, for bargaining with me. I don't think you understand what you're signing up for."

I was puzzled. "You want to fuck me, what else is there to understand?"

The jaguar laughed. "Ha! If only it was so simple. Fine, I agree to your terms if you survive the mating without begging and crying."

"Why would I be begging and crying?" I was confused, but he just stood up and started taking off his bow and arrows, as well as his weapon belt.

"Let's just say that the tumble we had was just part of the foreplay for jaguars, or any big cats for that matter." The jaguar shook like a cat and got rid of the dirt in his fur.

Oh. That explains why he was aroused.

"Take off your clothes, or I can rip them off." Seeing my inaction, the jaguar added somewhat impatiently.

Never have I ever stripped under the intense gaze of a man, under broad daylight outside none the less. My cheeks blushed from anger and shame, but I did as told. My body was not perfect; a few scars adorned my skin from my life as a rogue, but I wore them with pride. I was pale, from being active at night most of the time, and the simple braids I weaved on my short raven hair for ease of movement was half undone. The jaguar however, looked just as tidy as he did before, except for the bloodied neck fur.

Wearing only his trousers, the jaguar knelt down on the grass in front of me, and leaned in for a kiss. I immediately tensed up, remembering that night with a full moon, but he held onto my head with a firm hand. I must say kissing a cat was a strange experience, but he was no beginner in such things. His tongue, like that of a cat's, was flat and lined with spikes. His kiss was almost painful, but he was gentle enough to not hurt me. He controlled the pace just like he did during our fight, only stopping to let me breath when I was at my limit. His free hand travelled along my body, caressing my skin. His fur slightly tickled, and I soon relaxed under his experienced touch.

For a while, I forgot about the island, forgot about my grim future, and simply indulged in the moment.

The jaguar finally moved down to my breasts when my own soft tongue was numb, and my lips were swollen. The gentleness was unexpected but welcomed. The jaguar found my sensitive bud, and massaged it till I was absolutely flooded and moaning with delight. His sharp teeth scraped my hard nipples as he sucked and nipped, sending jolts of pleasure up my spine.

I helplessly gripped the grass beside me as the jaguar's padded fingers started probing at my entrance, and my leg touched something hot and hard. I suddenly realized that I have done nothing for him when he has been patiently getting me ready, even though I lost the fight. Apologetically, I used the only free limb I had, my tail, to caress the bulge, and the incredible heat almost burned me.

Immediately, I could feel him tensed up, and he purred into my breasts. He must be so pent up, and yet he still took it slow. I began taking off his trouser, but he grabbed my wrist and looked up. Unexpectedly, his eyes were calm, and only the twitches of his whiskers revealed the storm that hid underneath.

"I wouldn't rush it if I were you." The jaguar said, mistaking my guilt for eagerness.

"I'm not trying to...forget it! Just get it over with, will you?" I was sure even the tip of my ears was red from embarrassment. My dragon instincts were always urging me to be flirtatious and forward, but my elf side was never ready for it.

"You've obviously never mated with a Tabaxi before. We can be... aggressive when we're mating. Our animal instincts would kick in, and it can be painful for the female, even when they're our own. I don't want you screaming your lungs out and attract unwanted attention." The jaguar said seriously.

My face paled from the thought of the werewolves, how they made me screamed till my voice was hoarse. I had forgotten that the jaguar was no human or elf because of his tenderness. How naïve of me to assume his actions were out of care. The calmness in his orange eyes snapped me right back to reality; I made a deal with my own body as payment, and I'm simply a tool for fulfilling his needs.

"I'm no delicate human, so you don't need to worry. The sooner we're done the better." I was again angry for my own stupid assumptions, so I was eager to flip over this page. Besides, the jaguar's skillful hands have already made sure I was well prepared.