FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The sun has set when Bull finally takes your hand and leads you to the edge of the clearing. Your excitement has been growing the entire afternoon, and you wonder what the boerboel makes of the obvious wet spot in your pants. You ask him.

He looks down at it thoughtfully, as if regarding a prize heifer. "I'd say that's a compliment," he says, making you blush. He seems to like that, and you giggle when he leans in to nuzzle along your neck and lick you gently on the nape, like a puppy. His puppy. His...horny stallion puppy?

Best not to tell him that mental image.

"*Nnnnh*...ticklish!" you protest, but not too fiercely. It feels good having the canine's big head tucked in against yours. Bull pulls back and smirks at you.

"Sorry. Should I stop?" The tease. He knows you liked it - and a glance down at his own pants makes it clear he liked it just as much. *Fuck*...the tight brown fabric somehow makes his crotch look even bigger now than it looked after his mud bath. You almost get lost in that wonderful memory before recalling that the real thing is standing right in front of you, and pull your attention back into the moment.

He's watching you closely now, his eyes keen in the falling twilight. The light of the storm lantern shines as two sharp spots of light in their brown depths. As the darkness grows ever deeper, his paws rub gently along your arms and across your chest - but while his eyes take frequent visits to your crotch, his hands never do. You wish they would, but you don't want to ruin this moment. The sun has set behind him, and the falling ochre light of the sunset illuminates his outline like a ebony statue, draining colour and leaving only shadows. He's so fucking fit. His chest bulges out, and you run a quick finger over each nipple, feeling them respond to your touch like eager animals. You do it again, and this time he gasps. You meet his eyes, unseen in the pools of shadow below his brow, and raise your eyebrows.

"Sorry. Should I stop?"

He pushes you, roughly, and you half-stumble back. "I'll give you ten minutes," he says hoarsely. "Go anywhere you want. I'll find you."

"What if I get lost?" you inquire.

"I'll find you," he insists. He stretches his arms, as if they've suddenly become stiff. "Go as fast as you can. Give me a challenge." He turns his head one way, then another. He's limbering up, as if for a race.

"Oh," you say cockily, "you'll get a challenge. I'm going to win, see. Thirty minutes without being caught and I win, right? And then it'll be more than that adorable tail that wags."

The low growl sends a new thrill through you with how...bestial it sounds. "Someone's excited," you murmur, but there's no response. You pause for a few seconds, then frown. He's gone dead silent. You wait a few more seconds, but you can't even hear his breathing suddenly. You open your mouth to ask, but--

"Run."

The thrill that shoots through you this time is stronger. Much stronger. More...instinctive. The rushing torrent of burgeoning lust is still there...but now it courses along on a gelid undercurrent of something far more primal: fear. A chthonic part of you has awoken at that tone: that raw, half-snarled word that cuts to the oldest part of what you are...and what he is.

He is predator. And you are prey.

You take a quivering step back, suddenly scared to turn your back on him. Your heart thuds audibly below you, even as he continues to stand in complete silence. Has he crouched slightly? His form seems bulkier of a sudden. You become intensely aware that with every second, more light bleeds out of the sky. You have only a few minutes before you won't be able to see much of anything in the woods. Let alone the glint of light in two fierce eyes, hunting you down.

You need to go *now*.

A surge of adrenaline spins you on one hoof, and you're off, feet thudding into the loam as you sprint between the trees. Five strides, and it's as if the sun never was. you widen your eyes to pull in as much light as you can - and trip over a branch, crashing to the ground in a tumble of leaves and limbs. Some part of your brain imagines it can feel claws upon your back all of a sudden, pulling down your shirt, ripping it off...but it's only been seconds, it can't be, he wouldn't...

Gasping for air, you push yourself up and risk a harried look behind. You can just make out his outline, unmoved from where you left it. Just nerves. Just your imagination. But...is his head lifting...?

A long, low howl fills the air. A wonderful, terrible sound. Need, and lust, and hunger. All of him is in that howl, and it ices your bones. You feel brittle, as if staying still much longer will let the howl penetrate even deeper...shatter you...

*Go.*

*Go.*

*GO!*

On your feet again, and running once more. A bit slower, ducking and diving between ancient trees and fresh saplings. The dry leaves underfoot slip across one another treacherously, but you keep your footing. You're moving deeper and deeper. Ahead, the vast bole of a baobab lurches out of the darkness at you. You fetch up against it with outstretched hands, giving a small "oof" as the air punches out of you. You slip across the smooth bark, choosing another direction. Frantic, excited thoughts about using the baobab as a marker to escape, when you win.

If you win.

Down a small gully and up the other side, hands scrambling for purchase against the dry dirt. The tall grass smells sweet in your nose, but your mouth tastes of iron, and the stink of fear is in your sweat. Your brain is stupid. It only knows you're being hunted. Seek safety, seek shelter, seek the herd. Don't be alone, find others, be safe.

Another clearing. You pause on the edge, panting hard. You're loud, you realise. *Fuck*. Crashing through the veldt like a maddened buffalo...a mole could have followed you. Calm, calm. Deep breaths. Slower steps. Find a darkened hollow below the acacia's spread branches. Down to one knee. Slower breathing yet. Focus your senses. Listen.

*Listen*.

A single branch-crack, somewhere. Close? Far? The evening air is hot, heavy, distorting sound. You freeze, as much as you can. Open mouth, don't use your nostrils. Wide, slow breaths. Listen, and look for movement. He could come from anywhere. He could...

A shadow across the clearing moves, and your blood becomes ice.

He's not moving. Perhaps he's not seen you. You'll need to ready to run, though. You think you can beat him in a dead sprint if you need to. Big powerful stallion thighs. You slowly - *so slowly, like pitch, like time, slow, slow -* rise. You're standing now, muscles tensed. Waiting to see if he's seen you. Of course, sight's only one issue. He can also--

You hear his single sniff across the clearing, and have about a second to take a breath to scream.

He moves faster than he should be able to. A jagged streak of blackness across the clearing, straight for you, and you're afraid, so afraid, you don't remember what was supposed to be fun about this. Fangs are coming, fangs and claws and...

His weight slams into you and throws you back against the tree, and you cry out in the fraction of a second you have before his huge paw clamps over it. He's not speaking, just panting and growling, like...like an animal.

You jump as a clawed paw digs at your waist, catching your trousers and tearing them off with a powerful tug - then shrink back as jaws clamp onto your neck, his teeth like cold points against your hot, sweaty skin. The jaws tighten, and you quiver and snort in fear. You're sure one's broken the skin...or that's his spittle, running warmly down your neck.

"B-Bull?" you croak through the paw muffling you. The only response is his heavy, furred body pushing closer. He's naked, you realise. He chased you naked. And he's very, very hard.

His tongue laps out between his powerful jaws as he pushes your head back against the tree, leaning in with his bulk to begin to push his cock up into you...