Mated by the Alpha Male

Hey everyone, Alexa here ;)

Please enjoy the second installment in my ongoing series, starring Robin, the redhead who just can't catch a break. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it.

Without further ado...

*****

Robin had come across the video one cold, lonely evening while searching for material on her favorite porn site. Something seemed familiar about the thumbnail, and the conspicuous title, 'Breeding a redhead pawg part 1,' made her curious enough to click.

The video opened on an unfocused shot of a woman in the backseat of a dark car. She was lapping at a beastman's massive ballsack, the sloppy sound of her slurping almost exaggerated. She was clearly focused.

The beastman was also enjoying himself and encouraged her, saying, "Yeah, keep going. Just like that. The guys are gonna love this."

When Robin heard the rich, resonant tone of his voice, her mouth widened. A moment later, her worries were confirmed when the woman in the video lifted her head and the camera focused on her flushed face. She recognized her freckles, full lips and blue eyes.

"Oh..." was all Robin could manage as she continued to watch, fixed to the screen.

The frame suddenly shifted, unsteady as the beastman repositioned his smartphone. He moved to the center of the backseat, revealing his broad musculature and large horns. It was Slate, and the second Robin saw him, she paused the video. Her heart raced as she scrolled down the screen to see the upload details.

'Breeding a redhead pawg part 1' had 110,245 views, and Robin paled. She couldn't grasp that number. Over a hundred thousand people had seen a bullman fuck her in the backseat of an SUV — over a hundred thousand people — and the part that worried her the most was the title of the video. It was only part one.

Robin clicked on the uploader's username, Bitchbreaker6911. It led her to his profile page, where he described himself as a "virile bullman looking to breed as many sluts as possible." She skipped the rest of his bio to his videos, and found over sixty, scanning through the thumbnails and titles to find, 'Breeding a redhead pawg part 2.'

She clicked on the thumbnail and the video began to play. At first, Robin couldn't tell what was happening. The shaky frame and blurred picture made the scene difficult to distinguish, and she squinted, skipping ahead until she saw skin and sheets. The woman was lying on her stomach, her expansive ass naked and vulnerable.

The camera suddenly turned toward Slate's face, and he stuck out his tongue like an immature frat guy. Returning the focus to the woman's prone form, he slapped his bullcock between her big cheeks, bouncing it against her like a heavy baton. He then adjusted his hips, lined up his flare, and sunk into her wet valley with a squelch.

Robin half-remembered what happened when she'd returned to Slate's apartment that night. He'd poured her another drink, which she'd happily accepted, and then another drink, and another, and she excused herself to the restroom. She hadn't blacked out, but she was more than a little tipsy, and when she left the restroom to rejoin Slate on the couch, she'd all but fallen into his arms. Robin brought a hand to her lips at the hazy recollection of what happened next.

The first time they fucked, the bullman had taken her in a mating press, burying his manhood balls deep in his conquest. After he'd drained his second load into her sloshing womb, he didn't pull out, but held her down with his immense weight, lifting her legs above his shoulders.

The second time they fucked, it was only ten or so minutes later. Slate had positioned her on her hands and knees on his bed and pounded her "like the cheap cumdump" she was. Robin wasn't sure why she suddenly remembered him saying that, but it made her stomach flutter.

The third time they fucked, he'd laid her on her stomach and...

Robin stared at the computer screen. As she watched the bullman grope and squeeze her large, pale asscheeks, spreading them apart as he rode her with deep thrusts of his veined cock, three thoughts passed through her head.

She would never let anyone film her again.

She would save Slate's videos in a special folder.

She would start an exercise routine the next day.

...

After purchasing a sports bra, athletic underwear, yoga pants, and running shoes, Robin felt like she'd made a commitment to her new routine. She planned to focus on cardio, jogging around her block for half-hour increments five times a week. If it went well, she'd mix things up with a gym membership, but for the moment, she wanted to take it slow.

On the whole, she felt optimistic about losing weight. Though she wasn't by any means obese, she did want to shed a few excess pounds around her hips and butt. She wanted to be toned and thin, not "thick," or a "pawg," as Slate had called her. Upon looking up what the term "pawg" meant, she decided she didn't like the designation of "phat ass white girl."

And so, Robin made a goal to lose thirty pounds in three months.

Day One, Month One

Robin sorted through her bedside table, searching for a gift her friend had given her years ago. It was a bracelet which tracked her heart rate and counted her steps, and she thought it would prove valuable for tracking her progress in the weeks ahead.

In her new athletic wear, on her knees, she pulled a work portfolio, papers, folders, and jewelry from the table's deep drawer, emptying its contents. The fabric of her yoga pants stretched tight against her heavy ass as she rested on her calves.

"Ah, there you are," Robin said with a smile, withdrawing the bracelet from beneath an empty package of rubber bands. She pressed the button on the side of the device, and, to her surprise, it blinked on with a quarter of its battery already charged.

She wrapped it around her wrist and fiddled with the settings. When she was satisfied, she stood up and made her way to the bathroom mirror. Robin looked at herself, blue eyes bright with anticipation over her first run. She chose a blue scrunchy to match with her outfit, neatly tying back her shoulder-length red hair as she hummed.

When she finally emerged onto the stone street in front of the apartment building, she looked up into the clear sky and basked in the sun's warmth. It was a hot day, and she knew before long she'd work up a sweat. She set a timer and started to jog.

The first minute was easy, and though her legs felt a little heavy, she managed to keep a steady speed as she neared the end of her block. As she closed in on the second corner, Robin could feel the burning in her chest. Sweat formed on her forehead. Not deterred in the least, she made a full circuit back to her apartment before slowing to a brisk walk.

From the corner of her eye, Robin noticed her neighbor from up the street sitting on the stairs outside his building. She recognized him from the night she visited Breslin's. He was one of two canine beastmen who'd harassed her, and as she passed, Robin's face flushed a deeper shade of red than it already was.

She distinctly recalled him commenting on the size of her ass, and how he was going to make her his "bitch." When she briefly met his eyes on her second lap around the block, she could tell he also remembered the incident, and the sharp-toothed grin on his face didn't show the slightest hint of regret. Robin could feel his gaze on her body as she jogged.

Without a doubt, he was looking at the exposed skin of her lower back... watching the bounce of her big butt. Robin took the next corner from a wide angle, casting a sidelong glance toward the beastman to confirm that yes, he was, in fact, staring at her shamelessly.

Robin's heart raced faster, though she hadn't quickened her pace.

Day Three, Month One

By the third day of Robin's routine, she felt confident she could meet her goal. The first day had been admittedly difficult, and the second was no less challenging, but she was determined to follow through on her plans and not give up. Starting the timer on her bracelet, she began her jog with renewed enthusiasm.

The canine beastman was there again, though he'd been absent the day before. Upon passing him, Robin got a better look at his appearance. He had the color patterns and features of a Doberman, but his face was more square, less pointed. While his casual clothing was loose, his sturdy musculature was impossible to hide. He wasn't nearly as brawny as Slate, Robin thought, but he still had a strong, masculine physique.

Robin's eyes widened when she realized she was daydreaming about the stranger. She shook away the image lingering in her mind, of his cocky grin, overconfidence, and forward attitude.

Day Four, Month One

"Best part of my day, girl. Yeah, love seein' that ass."

Robin kept her head down as she neared where the beastman sat, a cigarette between two fingers, arm hanging over his knee.

"C'mon, hustle. Bounce that thing for me."

As Robin passed, the beastman reached out and swatted her on the ass. She stopped and turned with a shocked expression, open-mouthed but speechless. Unable to form a response, she turned around and continued jogging, face on fire.

Day Five, Month One

As Robin completed her final circuit for the week, she slowed to a stop in front of her building. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath, breasts rising, lips wet. She lifted her wrist to check her bracelet. But it was gone.

Robin looked up, glancing around. Somewhere along the route it must've...

"Hey! Over here, girl!" came a familiar voice. Robin blushed, the pale, freckled skin of her sweaty chest and collarbones turning pink. She looked at her neighbor from up the street, now walking toward her with something in his hand. He was wearing a tank top and gym shorts.

"You looking for this?" He asked, extending his hand to reveal her bracelet.

"Yeah, thanks, thought I lost it," she replied as she stepped forward. He turned his hand and the bracelet fell from his palm, landing on the sidewalk with an abrupt clack. Robin narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw, bending down to grab it.

"Just finished working out myself. How about some water. Seems fair."

As Robin straightened out, she looked between the bracelet and her neighbor, brow furrowed and about to speak when he interrupted, "I'm Marco. What's your name?"

"Robin," she said automatically.

"So how about that water."

Looking between the door of her apartment and her neighbor, Robin frowned, then finally acquiesced with a short, "Fine." She turned to enter her building and heard his footsteps behind her. Of course he'd want to come in, she thought. It's not like he'd wait out here for me.

As Robin climbed the old stairway to the second floor, she clutched the wide wooden bannister and kept her eyes ahead, well aware that the beastman was leering at her backside. She could feel his stare cut through her already thin clothing, past the strained fabric of her black yoga pants to the tight beige thong beneath.

When they arrived at apartment 206, Robin retrieved her keys and opened the door. She was acutely aware of her neighbor standing behind her, and said, "So is your place like this?"

Though it was a feeble attempt at conversation, she was moderately curious about the stranger. She'd seen him often enough, and even though he was a complete asshole, he'd returned her bracelet without causing a scene.

At the time, Robin half-expected Marco to use the bracelet as a bargaining chip to earn some kind of sexual favor. She knew other beastmen who would stoop that low, but her neighbor hadn't. To be honest, she would have let him pull her yoga pants around her knees and mount her hard, face pressed against the wall as he made her his bitch. She would have even spread her cheeks so he could knot her with his—

"Yo, Robin," Marco said, interrupting her thoughts.

Robin turned sharply from where she was standing at the sink. "Yes?"

"Are you gonna get a glass, or?"

"Of course," she replied, opening the cabinet to retrieve one. She stepped to her refrigerator and withdrew a filtered pitcher, heart pounding in her chest, and as she poured, she could feel her blush spreading across her neck. Her mind had just wandered to a dangerous place.

Robin brought the glass to Marco, now sitting with his legs extended and crossed. He accepted it with a muttered, "Thanks," and leaned back in his chair, sharp nails tapping out a staccato rhythm, eyes fixed on his hostess. "So what are your goals? Trying to lose weight?"

The question felt a touch forward. With a strained smile, Robin said, "Yeah, you guessed right. Trying to lose weight. I'm hoping to drop thirty pounds in three months."

Marco's eyes traveled across Robin's collarbone to the heft of her heavy breasts — tight in her athletic top — then dropped to the cleft between her thick thighs. She rubbed her knees together, big hips moving back and forth.

"Good luck with that," the beastman said with a wry grin. "It'll take some serious cardio to shape you up. But to be fair, most men like a woman with your figure. You've got everything. Great tits. Huge ass. Hips like a broodmare. I'm surprised you're not some beastman's bitch already."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Marco said, then took a drink from his glass. "Bet you've been passed around, had more than your fair share of dick. Maybe if you're lucky, I'll put a collar around your neck and give you a treat." With a laugh, he finished his water and set it on the table beside him.

"I..." Robin started, though she didn't know how to finish her sentence. Her previous embarrassment was replaced with a complete absence of thought. She could only feel... feel her body's reaction to the beastman's words... the hammering of her heart... the quickness of her breath... and as she attempted to regain composure, Marco snickered.

"You should quit your routine. You need to eat more, lay around all day, pack on the pounds. I'd love to see just how round your ass can get," he said. The beastman stood from his seat and Robin remained motionless, mouth open, blushing as her blue eyes dilated. "I'm sure that pussy's pretty nice as well."

Marco approached. It was impossible to challenge his perfect confidence, and Robin quivered as he brought his hand to the side of her face. His fingers slipped into her copper hair and he tightened his fist, eliciting a sudden "Ah!" from his captive.

She trembled as he brought his mouth to the slope of her tender neck and dragged his tongue along her jaw, savoring the taste of her sweat. Her eyelashes fluttered and she gasped as Marco's thumbs slid into the waistband of her yoga pants. With no subtlety or ceremony, he yanked them down to her knees, then her ankles.

Robin stepped out of the garment without thinking, her hands on Marco's chest. He hoisted her by her broad hips up onto the counter in one swift motion. The generous flesh of her ass spread beneath her as the beastman tore her thong from her legs and tossed it behind him.

Marco gazed down at Robin's pussy, half-hidden beneath a bush of pubic hair. Her lips were wavy, pink and wet, partially gaped from past insertions. The beastman crudely shoved two fingers inside and curled them, laughing as Robin pressed her palms against the laminate and squealed. "Ah! Fuck!" she cried.

"Yeah, thought you got around," Marco said, flicking his fingers inside Robin as she squirmed and whimpered.

"It's just that—" she tried to say, but the beastman pulled his fingers from her pussy and shoved them into her mouth.

"Don't care. You're my property now," he said, pushing deeper into her throat as she gagged. His other hand lowered his gym shorts and his rigid dick sprang free. It was nine inches, girthy as Robin's wrist and growing more and more engorged by the second. At its base was a bulbous knot, its tapered tip dripping precum. The beastman bared his teeth.

He positioned himself between Robin's legs and lined up his cock. It throbbed, leaking onto her pubic hair, pearl-like beads trapped in her copper curls. He trailed his tapered tip down her inner thigh and she shuddered, whining around the fingers in her mouth, wide blue eyes watching as the beastman prepared to penetrate her.

Marco gracelessly thrust himself inside Robin with a grunt.

"Mmmnnngh!" she moaned, her cries muffled. Half of the beastman's length was now lodged firmly within her, and she instinctively clamped down at the intrusion. As she clenched and squeezed, Marco grunted again and pushed his cock deeper. He bottomed out, his weighty balls slapping against Robin's ass.

"Fuck yeah..." he groaned, relishing the sensation of Robin's hot, hungry pussy around his shaft. His fingers fell from her mouth and he wrapped both hands around her hips, jutting his jaw as he looked at his latest conquest.

"W-wait," she said, red-faced and panting. "Maybe you should wear a condom. I'm not on any birth control and—"

"Hah!" Marco laughed, bucking against Robin to assert his dominance. "Like I'd wear a condom. You're my bitch now, and I'm going to use your body however I want. If that means draining my balls into your belly, you better lift your hips and present. Got it?"

"Y-yes," Robin squeaked.

"Say it. Say what you want."

"I w-want you to fuck me however you want," she said, feeling his cock flex inside her. "I... I want... I want you to..." His hand wrapped around her neck and her breath escaped her.

"What do you want?" Marco asked, beginning to pump himself between her legs. She shifted herself to accept him, moaning. "What do you want, slut?"

"Ahhh... I... Ah... I want you to fill me..."

Marco picked up his pace. He pistoned with feverish passion, one foot on Robin's discarded yoga pants as he pounded her hard and fast. She was knocking against the cabinetry, her loud cries punctuated with shattered porcelain as a nearby plate fell to the ground.

"Just like I said the first time I saw you," the beastman muttered. "I was gonna make you my bitch."

Marco pulled away from Robin with a lewd squelch, her pussy reluctant to release him. He forced her off the countertop and onto her feet, then spun her around, bringing a palm to grope her expansive pale ass. His other hand moved between her shoulder blades, and she soon understood what he wanted. Robin bent over and spread her feet.

The beastman gripped his twitching shaft, then dragged it down the deep valley of Robin's ass until he found purchase between her parted legs. His balls suddenly hopped and he plastered her pussy lips with precum, unable to help himself at the sight of her submission.

In truth, Marco had over a dozen women he fucked in rotation. If he wanted his dick sucked, he could get an eager pair of lips any time of day. Tamara, Laura or Jenna would be more than glad to take a load. All he had to do was call. But there was something special about mounting a bitch for the first time — something gratifying — that made him savor the moment.

He savored it only briefly, grabbing Robin by her hips before hilting himself. He met her ass with a meaty slap, then pulled back to thrust again, and again, and again — slap, slap, slap — as he began to build a steady rhythm. Driven by his animal instincts, he pounded her with purpose, priming her for his seed.

"Oh... Fuck!" Robin cried. She rested her forehead against the countertop as Marco fucked her from behind. Her legs started to shake, muscles contracting as she grew closer and closer to her climax. The beastman didn't care, and as he rushed toward his release, he barely noticed when Robin reached her own with a long, low moan.