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Isabelle grumbled. She was the only four-legger who'd shown up for the advertisement spot. This was a really big get, and could shift her modeling career into acting. The thirteen-year-old grey-furred Poodle looked great in clothing ads for other ferals, but there was an invisible barrier to get into television. Unless you were advertising something specifically for the twenty-percent of people with no hands, advertisers wanted two-leggers to represent their products.

That's why Isabelle hoped to break out in this role - an ad for flavored milks called "Blue-Moo" whose slogan she'd been practicing all day. "No need to wait - milk this good comes in every Blue-Moo". Milk was one product that everyone, no matter their number of hands, needed. This, she knew she was a long shot. The other girls who'd shown up were a little older and pretty cute, so she really had to nail her lines, and she couldn't show any negative emotions at all. A feral had to work twice as hard for the same opportunities.

She looked up as the young director finally walked in. They'd decided earlier than she'd expected. She'd have to wait for her father to arrive, and she fully expected to be disappointed. Reading from a clipboard, the German Shorthaired Pointer didn't even look up. "We're not doing callbacks for this spot, so...if I say your name, thank you so much for auditioning, but we're looking for someone else at this time. Jessica, Hailey, Monica...Rashiya, Danica. Please try out for future roles with the agency."

His voice droned, his heart clearly not in it. Isabelle shivered. Her name wasn't on the list. Had she gotten the part!? One by one, the other girls stood up and walked out of the waiting room, shooting the feral dirty looks. But Isabelle wasn't left alone. One girl, a Cocker Spaniel, was sitting just as excitedly, her long, brown ears quivering. Isabelle narrowed her eyes, but the other girl didn't even seem to notice.

Only once all the other girls had left did the director look up from the clipboard. He wrinkled his brown nose and adjusted his tie. "Isabelle, Melinda -"

"Just Mel, please," the girl chimed in. She was wearing an utterly ridiculous sun dress like she was going to church in the fifties, with a skirt that crinkled as she stood up. The girl didn't know the first thing about fashion.

"Fine. You two are the finalists, but the producer and I haven't been able to break the tie. If you could follow me in?" He turned and strode back into the little office studio, leaving the door open long enough for Mel to catch it. Smiling, the fourteen-year-old girl held it open for Isabelle, which was helpful but still rankled for the four-legged grey Poodle. She was this close to getting an acting gig, and here this girl was treating it like a game. "Thanks," Isabelle said quietly.

The studio was set up for shoots, with a stage and lighting equipment, and then a long folding table. They clearly didn't use these offices full time, because everything was easy to take down and put up. "Have a seat," he said, sitting back in one of the two office chairs.

Mel took a folding chair, but Isabelle wasn't about to perch on such a thing. She grumbled, but sat down on her hind legs, her own short, green skirt getting rumpled up beneath her. Her brother, Benji, had spent almost ten minutes lacing up her blouse just perfectly, the light green cloth neatly covering her smoothly trimmed underside. She looked truly radiant, grey fur in well-groomed tufts at each foot and at the tip of her long tail, as well as her perfect head of hair and long, fluffy ears that more than matched the cocker spaniel for beauty, and a poofy mane that only emphasized her slenderness down her shaved back and belly.

"Mr. Allen, they're here," the man said. The Shorthaired Pointer glanced back at an adjoining office, and sure enough, the producer appeared. Isabelle hadn't seen him during the shoot, but he must have been watching through that window. She was surprised to see that Allen was a four-legger. He must be the one rooting for her! He trotted out, looking fairly well kept. He was an all-white Bull Terrier, almost a foot shorter than the full-grown Poodle, his muscular, curved belly covered by black vest, a red dress shirt, and a light yellow tie. He, like many ferals, didn't bother with pants, which was certainly more awkward with a breed like his that featured short hair. His white rump was out in the open as he moved over and hopped up into the chair next to Mr. Darby.

"I'm gonna be frank," Mr. Allen explained, his smooth white ears perked upward. "I think it should go to Isabelle."

Mel whimpered, her silky brown ears curled back, but she gave Isabelle a small, slight (infuriating) smile. The Bull Terrier continued, though, "No slight to you, Mel, but the girl has a much bigger resume, despite being a bit younger. She's recognizable and fits the "Blue-Moo" specifications even better than you do - cute, young, and wholesome. But Darby thinks you deserve it. He says more people identify with two-leggers, and what you lack in experience you make up in innocence. But that puts us at an impasse."

"I suggested we flip a coin," Darby explained, "since you both tied on our review forms. But Allen here said that wouldn't really be fair."

Together, the two girls had to look up from Mr. Darby and then down as Mr. Allen said, "So we agreed to let you plead your cases. If you, Mel, can convince me..."

"Or you, Isabelle, can convince me..." the Pointer added.

"Then you can break the tie," Allen finished.

Together, the two males looked expectantly at the young, aspiring actresses. This was a big contract for at least a 4-part series of advertisements running in the whole region. To be this close to getting her big break was tantalizing! Isabelle had to convince him.

Mel might have looked innocent, but she knew the stakes, too, and suddenly both girls were speaking, rapid fire at the men, trying to explain how hard they would work for it, and how much they'd been preparing. The words fell on deaf ears as the two men looked unconvinced. Until Isabelle, in her frustration, gasped, "I'll do anything, Mr. Darby!"

"Anything?" the Pointer replied, and the room fell silent.

Oh. Isabelle froze. Now she understood. This wasn't really about their qualifications at all. They wanted to know which girl would be more 'pleasant' to work with. She ­would have balked immediately not more than a month ago, but now her heart was racing. Memories of the security terminal at the airport flashed through her head, Carl telling her "You'll probably find out it's easier to sell your looks if you'll also sell your body."

Shivering, the thirteen-year-old Poodle looked right up at Mr. Darby, in the fullness of the quiet in the room, and said, meaningfully, "Anything."

Mel was new to the game, that much was clear. She sat in her chair, in front of Mr. Allen, her paws on her lap, holding her skirt and legs together, when these males were looking for quite the opposite. The Cocker Spaniel was staring at Isabelle in disbelief as the more experienced Poodle stepped forward. Mr. Darby watched, his floppy, red-brown ears perked upward, leaning back in his chair at the young feral's approach. Choosing her most sultry tone, the grey-furred Poodle said, "And I think I have something in mind..."

Darby's speckled white muzzle parted into a smirk, spreading his legs slightly before asking, "And what, pray tell, is that?"

"I'd show you, but you have me at a bit of a disadvantage," Isabelle replied, glancing over at Allen, who was bare from the waist down. Taking a deep breath, she dared to nuzzle the Pointer's crotch. There was no mistaking her intent, which suited the director quite well.

"I think I'm starting to come around on this Poodle," he said to the producer, sliding his paws down to unzip his pants. Mel was frozen in place, looking about to faint as he peeled his pants and underpants down, his liver-speckled white fur looking almost like television static, except where the spots faded to pink around his sizable, now-visible sheath.

"B-but..." Mel whined. Right in front of her, she watched her competition for the ad spot lick right along Mr. Darby's cock, getting only a pleased rumble from the big male. She glanced over at Mr. Allen, who was watching the Cocker Spaniel. Gulping, Mel said, "I can't..."

Allen gave the best shrug a feral Bull Terrier can give and said, "If that's what it takes to get him to side with my choice, that's good enough for me. Unless you want to...plead your own case?"

Isabelle slurped up and up, her tongue following Darby's glistening, pink tip as he emerged into the open, his tongue spilling out of his mouth. Mel glanced over, seeing her shot at this all important first role vanishing with each lick, then looked back at Mr. Allen. Gulping, she said, "I'll convince you."

Allen grinned, sitting at the very edge of the office chair as the fourteen-year-old wanna-be actress walked slowly forward before kneeling in front of the chair. The dog's suit and tie did nothing to block his naked crotch, and the Cocker Spaniel found herself nose-to-tip with the small four-legger's sheath years before she would really be ready. But she couldn't lose this role to some Poodle slut! Taking a deep breath, her small, tan muzzle opened up and took the tip of Allen's sheath inside, tongue curling around him. Steadying himself on the back of her head, the producer panted and groaned, filling out inside Mel's mouth.

The contest was really on now, with both girls putting their tongues to work, Isabelle lapping repeatedly at Darby's tip while Mel reached forward with her paws, using every advantage she had. She grabbed the terrier by the rump, her fingers reaching up to cup the white dog's sizable balls even as she bobbed her head. She was new to this, but Allen did much of the work, mounting her head like she was a presenting bitch and bucking his chubby white hips. Isabelle knew she had to pull out all the stops, nuzzling Darby's own balls before poking her nose between them and his wagging tail. The German Shorthaired Pointer raised his eyebrow, confused, until he felt the Poodle's tongue slide up his taint to engulf his tailhole. "Oh...I don't get that every day," he groaned, sliding further out of the chair until his butt was dangling off the end to give her better access.

Mel glanced over in shock at her competition's strategy, her angle only allowing her to imagine the deep licks the thirteen-year-old was providing her soon-to-be boss. Loud, wet slurps rang out as she pushed her tongue farther, quickly bringing Darby to full mast, pre-cum dripping from his tip. "Good girl!" he groaned.

Mel had to do something, and fast, but she wasn't about to do that. Whimpering, she decided to try raising the stakes. Gulping, the young girl stood and lowered her skirt and undies all the way to the ground, her nubby tail unable to cover herself at all. Her pink spade trembled in the open air, just about face-to-face with the seated Bull Terrier.

Allen cocked his head, his fat cock suddenly neglected and throbbing between his legs. The seventy pound feral was mostly muscle packed into a short stature. He said, "And what am I supposed to do with that?" he asked.

Mel gasped. "Oh...s-sorry. I thought you'd like to see it." Blushing, the Cocker Spaniel knelt quickly to grab her clothes from the floor.

"Hold up, Mel...I didn't tell you to put that away," Mr. Allen interrupted, chuckling. "But I'm gonna need a lot more than a look. Step forward."

Shivering, the inexperienced young bitch stepped right next to the chair, watching with her mouth gaping as she presented her untested spade to the older male. She gasped as his cold, wet nose pressed against her warm mound and he _huffed_in her scent. But he didn't just want a sniff! Tilting his egg-shaped muzzle sideways, he plied the young teenager open with his tongue. Unbidden, she grabbed his head, pushing him away until the rolling chair hit the stage behind him, but she also followed along, her hips competing with her hands. Her hands lost, no longer able to push Mr. Allen away, and she ended up with her spade thrusted into Allen's face, her whole body trembling at his eager licks.

Mr. Darby groaned at Isabelle, who was still eating him out, saying, "You've got your work cut out for you, girl, because there's only one thing Allen likes more than a mouthful of muff."

Drat! she thought, not expecting any competition from the timid tan-furred bitch. How far would Mel go to get this part!? Maybe Isabelle was wrong to think of the girl as innocent - maybe it was just an act?

But Mr. Allen slurped deep into her, suddenly pulling his tongue out with a loud squelch and said, "Dang, Darby, this one's a virgin!"

"I-is that bad?" Mel whimpered.

"No," Allen grinned, shaking his head. "But it means we've got a little prep work to do if you wanna be comfortable. Come on - lie down on the stage for me."

Isabelle watched the clueless Cocker Spaniel follow the horny producer over to the raised stage area. The Poodle could tell the girl didn't know how far these males planned to go, but Allen was prepping her for one thing only - probably the one thing he liked more than a mouthful of pussy. Mel lay down on the stage, resting her head on a nearby pillow, looking curiously at the Bull Terrier hopping up to stand beside her with a wide grin.

Isabelle needed to take the initiative again, or Allen would pick Mel over her! She looked up at Mr. Darby with wide, puppy dog eyes and said, "I-I want you."

Darby took a deep breath, but even he was surprised when the Poodle hopped up into his lap, suddenly embracing the warm young bitch. She pushed her whimpering muzzle to his, and they were kissing. The director slid a paw down to release the stop on his office chair, which leaned back suddenly into a reclined position, and he kicked his shoes off, then his pants and underpants, all while making out with the eager Poodle. "Are you also...?" he asked.

Isabelle shook her head. "No, I know exactly what I'm doing."

Darby grinned, reaching for the laces on the young feral's blouse, quickly untying what had taken her adopted brother ages to do. Her shaved, furless skin quivered as he peeled the clothes off of her, before reaching back to grab her skirt. Like most four-leggers, she didn't bother with underwear unless she was in heat, and she was just out of it. She wiggled her rump as he pulled the skirt off of her, leaving the eighty-pound bitch completely naked on top of the reclining Pointer.

She watched now as he undid the buttons on his dress shirt, loosened his tie, and leaned forward to toss both onto the floor. She stared at him now - shorter than Carl, he was still quite fit, his abs poking through his short, freckled fur. Again the young Poodle found herself with a powerful, older male two-legger, shivering as she remembered just how good it had felt with Carl inside her. She crawled up him, her nipples brushing against his belly fur as she kissed him again, quivering in his strong arms.

Mel watched in wonderment as Mr. Allen climbed on top of her, straddling her. Only, he climbed on her the other way. The Cocker Spaniel was still pretty short, but even so Allen's pure-white rump was almost a foot away, his little tail up and wagging. She'd never seen a male so close up before, his sizable balls dangling below his little pucker, red cock so full it almost brushed against her blouse. But he wasn't standing backwards over her for no reason. With a loud slurp, he buried his tongue once again into the young bitch, and Mel yelped, instinctively spreading her legs. She'd never felt anything like it, his warm, wet drool quickly greasing her tight, pink spade.

"Unzip me," Allen commanded.

Blinking, Mel did as she was told, if only so he'd go back to licking. She sat up and reached for the zipper along the dog's back, and realized that the suit and vest and tie were basically one piece, at least for now. She unzipped him and the clothes fell free, leaving the advertising producer naked on top of her. She moaned, never imagining that her quick audition would lead to this. "And your clothes, too," he added.

She glanced over at the naked Poodle. Mel knew that she wasn't going to get the part if she balked now, and what sense was there in that? She'd already let Allen feast on her fortune cookie. Leaning up, she tugged off her blouse and unhooked her bra, revealing small but curvy Cocker Spaniel breasts. "N-now what?" she whined.

"Just hang on - this might hurt a bit."

Mel gasped in surprise, not expecting_that_. But Mr. Allen slammed his tongue back into her, his long white tail wagging just inches from her face. He wanted her to_like_ a quick, horny rutting, and that wasn't going to happen unless he popped her cherry now to let her adjust. He'd done this a half-dozen times before with underaged employees, and the Bull Terrier knew what to do, curling his tongue into a point and slamming it forward like a knife. With a yip, Mel felt him burrow through her thin hymen, tearing the soft, superfluous barrier before widening out inside of her. He let his drool spill out and sooth the aches in her aching pussy, gently working his tongue's base against the girl's clit to try to cover the sharp pain.

"M-Mr. Allen!" she squeaked, biting her lip. "What are you doing?"

He had to pull out to reply. "Just focus on the pleasure, Mel, and the pain'll fade away, and you won't have to worry about it ever again."

"O-okay," she whined, wincing as she lay on her back and let him back into her quivering cunny.

Mr. Darby wasn't going to be swayed by some pleasant kisses, and Isabelle encouraged him with cute little moans as his spotted white paws slid down her belly, rubbing against each of her immature nipples on the way down to her furless rump. She straddled the naked male, her chest nestled against his, lowering her hips until her spade brushed against his swollen shaft. Shivering, the Poodle rested her petals there, wet and wrapped around his rod. Sliding a few inches back and forth, she slicked him up, saying, "Oh, Mr. Darby, are you sure I shouldn't get the role?"

Darby curled his paws around her hindquarters, knowing just where to find her throbbing loins. He reached for her vulva with fingers from both hands, responding, "Maybe - as long as you aren't just a tease..."

Whining, she hiked her rump at his touch, and his fingers pried her pussy apart, the two longest digits on each paw poking inside her. She could only whine, remembering how skilled Carl had been with his fingers. Her tail was wagging, the tuft of fur at the end a blur. She pushed back and helped him enter her, four fingers delving deep into her wet tunnel. The perfect moment was only spoiled by the efforts of Mel, who wasn't taking the competition lying down (metaphorically).

The young girl had adjusted now to his fervent licks, but when Allen shook his rump at her, she realized she needed to do something for him to return the favor. Leaning forward, she stuffed her muzzle under the terrier's tail and took his balls carefully in her mouth. She knew males were sensitive there, so she suckled gently and was rewarded with a few thwaps of his tail against her forehead. She put up an arm to block the tail, and slurped forward, holding his orbs in her mouth and licking down to cup his slick, veiny cock. His heady, masculine scent filled her nostrils and left the Cocker Spaniel wet and warm. She thought she'd find it gross, but instead, she was slathering the smaller four-legger, gulping down his flavor. She'd never considered doing such a thing but in the heat of the moment, she couldn't hold back. She wasn't about to let that Poodle bitch win!

But when Mr. Allen pulled his tongue free with a loud schlorp, and said, "Lick higher..." she paused.

There was only one thing higher than his balls. Mel froze. Balls were one thing, but that? She knew that the Poodle hadn't hesitated. If Mel refused, she would lose precious marks. But the dog's tailhole? Could she really? Tentatively, she sniffed his butt, only to realize that his pucker was even muskier. If she liked his balls, would she like that even more? Steeling herself, she had to try. Obediently, the Cocker Spaniel flattened her ears, closed her eyes, and took a lick. And then another, and another, pushing her tongue into Mr. Allen's anus. It really wasn't bad!

And the producer loved it, his tail wagging so fast it was bruising Mel's arm. He couldn't keep licking her, instead pushing his rump back against the girl's inquisitive tongue, enjoying the dull pain of her forceful licks, slick saliva easing the ache slightly. He let her guzzle him for over a minute, relishing the rare opportunity, pre-cum dribbling down onto Mel's belly. "Oh...God...that's it..." he groaned, until the pain grew too much. Panting, he hopped off the fourteen-year-old.

Mel was gasping for air, licking her lips, feeling dirty and used. Somehow, though, she didn't mind the feeling, whining up at the eager Bull Terrier. If he was going to be her boss, she needed to please him. She stared down her bare breasts at the small puddle on her stomach and her sopping wet spade, shivering as she watched Mr. Allen hop off the stage only to climb onto the single stair up. Her rump was right up against the edge of the stage, and she said, "Oh!" when the small feral hopped up between her legs, his hinds on the stair and his front paws straddling her waist.

There was no mistaking what he wanted now, and he cocked his head and said, "You've _almost_convinced me."

Her throat went dry and she stared down at the pure-white dog. "I-I don't know..."

Isabelle, on the other paw, had crawled forward, staring down into Mr. Darby's eyes. Now, her pussy rested just above the man's cock, bouncing up and down so vigorously that she kissed his tip again and again. Mel had come so far, and it was clear that she was about to lose. Still, she held up a finger and said, "O-okay...but do you have a condom?"

The earth stood still as she waited to see if that was a dealbreaker. But the producer chuckled and said, "There's one in my briefcase. If you're sure you need it."

Mel nodded vigorously. Her mother would kill her for half the stuff she'd done already, but if she mated with the four-legged producer without some form of protection (even though she wasn't in heat), she might get pregnant. This job wasn't worth that risk, however small! "Let me get it for you."

Allen chuckled, put on hold while Mel put her hands to good use. Darby rolled his eyes and looked at Isabelle. "What about you?"

Isabelle grinned and shook her head. "I told you - I'll do anything for this job."

With a contented sigh, Darby said, "That's what I like to hear." He grabbed her by the hips and lowered her once again to his waiting dick, ready to really give it to the thirteen-year-old Poodle prostitute.

Just enough time for Mel to unwrap and slide the condom onto Allen's sizable erection. Shivering, the young Cocker Spaniel assumed the position once more, her legs spread wide for the feral Bull Terrier who could barely reach her breasts with his mouth after mounting her. She'd never imagined this would be how her first time went, but she was wagging her stub tail anyway, about to take the next big step in her career, ready or not.

Almost at the same time, both males pushed forward and claimed their squealing bitches. Mr. Darby's rough paws grabbed Isabelle by the hips and helped guide her wet cunny down the entire length of his glistening, red cock, the German Shorthaired Pointer fitting surprisingly well in the eighty-pound bitch. Her triangular spade slipped easily around him, dripping wet from his earlier fingering. He wasn't as big as the husky who'd taken her virginity a week earlier, and this time he wasn't wearing a condom. The Poodle groaned as his bare cock drove up into her, quivering in the most intimate embrace. "Mr. Darby!" she whined, pressing her front paws into his speckled chest fur, her grey spade kissing his half-swollen knot.

The director wasn't interested in romance, but that suited Isabelle just fine. She shivered and whined in submission when the two-legger pumped his hips, groaning, "So young to be such a big whore. I bet you fucked your way into all your jobs..."

Arching her back, she replied, "Y-yes!" even though that was a lie. She'd earned her resume the hard way, with good looks and a lot of help from her mom's modeling connections. But she knew what Darby wanted to hear. "B-but you're the biggest," she lied again, wiggling her hips.

Mel was gasping, her eyes rolling back in her head. She'd thought, perhaps, that Mr. Allen would be an easy first time, since he was barely more than half her weight, but he made up for it in his enormous, Bull Terrier cock. He ravished her untried Cocker Spaniel cunt, squeezing around her waist with both paws as he laid into her, wide, egg-shaped muzzle split into an eager grin. The latex slicked up quick in her well-licked pussy, and like that, she was filled to the brim, the little dog humping away like a mindless pet, grunting and groaning. The young actress could hardly focus as she spread her legs and her tail, mating for the first time with the thirty-year-old producer. If this wasn't enough to get the job, she didn't know what she'd do, but at the moment, all that mattered to the tan-and-brown bitch was the fat cock spreading her slender hips apart, poking and prodding her farthest depths. Squealing, she slid her paws to her own, budding breasts, rubbing herself as she bucked back up against the frantic feral.

Isabelle rocked her hips up and down in the reclining male's lap, sliding her y-shaped folds up and down his throbbing girth. His sheath was pressed tight against his hips now, swelling knot making the perfect shelf for the thirteen-year-old Poodle to rest her hips before yipping and pumping up and down again. Leaning up, Darby kissed the young feral again, tilting his head to slam his tongue into her mouth, even as he fucked the horny little bitch.

But after all the build up, both males were ready to blow. They could only hump and thrust two or three dozen times into the empty-headed little fuck toys before it was over. Allen was the first, pumping forward harder and harder until his rubbered cock thwapped his swollen knot again and again against her underage undercarriage, spurred on by her inexperienced whimpers and pants. Shuddering, the young girl wrapped her legs around his rapid fire hips, tossing her head back and forth as she moaned in delight. She'd known as well as anyone that sex was supposed to feel really good, but now that she was actually experiencing it, she found herself humping her hips in time to the feral's, her clit convulsing against the base of his cock. He couldn't tie her from this angle, pumping upward, but that didn't matter, as Allen slammed forward, holding himself deep as he inflated his condom, the tip ballooning out to fit the form of her cervix, threatening to break.

Ears splayed back, Mel gasped and groaned in sheer ecstasy, the swelling inside her only turning the fourteen-year-old on. She squeezed her legs around him as she pictured taking it all, condom missing in her mental image. She clenched down hard, form fitting around the small dog's big cock, only for both to hear the sudden pop. No, he hadn't tied. Together, two pairs of eyes looked down, though they wouldn't be able to see the culprit. Sure enough, the condom had torn in the fierce flurry of the powerful Bull Terrier - he always picked condoms a size too small, but they didn't always break. Giving her a show of a gulp, he said, "Y-you're not in heat, are you?"

Warm, bubbling cum streamed through the torn latex spilling directly into her waiting tunnel, sloshing around and coating the young girl's pussy. She yelped, but said, "N-no, but..."

"Sorry," Allen lied. He'd known from her taste that she wasn't in any real danger of getting knocked up, but there was nothing quite so satisfying as leaving a nice, steaming cream pie in a needy little bitch. He groaned, leaned forward, and let forth another several spurts straight against the poor girl's womb, making himself at home. Mel could only lay back, her rhythmic panting hiding the thoughts in her head as she realized all the firsts she'd just given up for a mere chance to get her first job. Still, she shuddered and moaned, taking every drop he had to give her, stained and used.

No such worry for Mr. Darby, who had free aim at the grey Poodle's unprotected cunny. He wrapped his arms around the Poodle's shaved back, pinning her to him, his chest fur rubbing against her eight teats. They were still immature little nubs, never having had the pleasure of mouths to feed, and this moment would be no different. The girl wasn't in heat, either. But it didn't take much to imagine a slut like her knocked up in a few months, too eager to get what she wanted and ending up with a bonus, parting gift that would most certainly end her "innocent girl" cache. He broke his french kiss with Isabelle, and said, "Aren't you the model employee..."

She rocked her hips, the entire length of the Pointer's long, thick cock quivering inside her. Only his knot remained outside, shuddering against her straining pussy lips. "If you'll be my boss..." she groaned, tail wagging.

With that, Darby slammed up into her, spreading her slender hips apart just to take him all in, his knot squishing against her grey folds. Isabelled tossed her head back and howled, squeezing hard as that thick rod exploded inside her, balls churning as rope after rope of cum stained every inch of the young dog's vagina. She moaned and panted, staring into Darby's eyes as the man's face contorted in ecstasy, dumping his nuts in the slutty Middle Schooler. Her eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth as she drooled and took it all like an obedient pet.

Gasping for air minutes later, Darby managed to say, "I'm changing my vote to Isabelle..."

The Poodle grinned evilly at the exhausted Cocker Spaniel.

But a curved, white muzzle turned to them, and Allen said, "I'm changing my vote, too..."

"Wait, what?" Isabelle yipped.

Mel sat up as best she could, kissing the producer on the lips, even as Allen pulled his messy, cum-stained cock out of her, the tattered condom leaving her once-virgin pussy dripping in sticky white semen.

Darby looked genuinely surprised. "Well, now what?" he asked, tugging free from the Poodle only to cause a flood of cum to dribble down onto the office chair.

Isabelle cocked her head. There was still thirty minute before her father was scheduled to pick her up, after all. She glanced over at Mr. Allen and said, "Isn't it obvious? I've just gotta convince you back." With that, she hopped off of Darby's lap and padded over to the stocky, white terrier.

Mel sat up, big, floofy ears perked up as best she could. The Cocker Spaniel said, "Then _I'm_going to convince Mr. Darby back!"

The two males looked at each other in disbelief. Darby watched the leaking, sexy Spaniel slink over to him but he held up a paw. "I'm not r-ready..." he said.

"Then I'll make you ready," Mel replied, kneeling in front of the seated, sweaty Shorthaired Pointer. Gingerly, she took his flaccid dick in her hands, encouraged as it swelled slightly at her touch. Pushing her chest forward, she slid the fat cock between her breasts, knowing this was one thing she definitely had over the Poodle. Darby groaned and humped weakly against the immature boobs, but Mel said, "Take your time," wrapping her lips impossibly gently around his quivering tip. Only the barest wet sensation reached the director's brain, but when he groaned and pumped forward, he could choose exactly how much of her willing tongue to touch. He grabbed the arms of his chair in each paw, gritting his teeth.

Isabelle, on the other hand, let Mr. Allen run the show. Even though she was much larger than he was, she approached meekly, like the obedient bitch she was, and looked up to the Bull Terrier at the edge of the stage, saying, "Is there anything you've been meaning to do with a girl like me? I'll do anything!"

The producer grinned. "I'm always meaning to pump a slut like you full of puppies. I know you're not in heat, but I'm willing to try once I recover. But first I had something else in mind. Roll over!"

The precocious Poodle cocked her head, then smiled and rolled over onto her back, looking up as Mr. Allen hopped down from the stage, moving in as if for a kiss. But instead, he just grinned and said, "Such a pathetic little bitch."

Isabelle perked her ears, not expecting this. Mr. Allen continued, "You're dirt, you know that? Just an empty-headed little wanna-be whose only asset is looking good enough to fuck."

"Hey...!" the eighth-grader replied, her ears flattening and tail curling between her legs. This wasn't what she'd expected.

But the Bull Terrier didn't let up. "I'm not saying anything you don't know. You're a dime-a-dozen Poodle pimped out by her aging model mother, just trying to live through you. If you get far, it'll be because of shit like today. You're a good pup, Isabelle. Obedient...you think you know your place."

She'd experienced some dirty talk from Carl, but nothing like this. And there was an element of truth to what the producer was saying. Why was he doing this? Didn't he say he wanted to fuck her?

"But you don't - yet. You want this job, and future ones, you'll realize that it's guys like Darby and me that run everything. We're the brains, the money - you're just a pretty face. The sooner you realize that, the better."

The Poodle gulped, trying not to cry. But maybe that's what the male wanted? Whimpering, she stared up into his face and said, "I-I know."

But Mr. Allen shook his head. "Not yet you don't."

"I know!" she tried again, more forcefully. When Mr. Allen still shook his head, she wept and yipped, "I've already promised to do whatever you want. I'll let you fuck me every day on set, I'll eat your ass - I'll even take your litter! I know I'm nothing, but I also want to be an actress!"

Allen nodded approvingly. "You're almost there. But I think you need a final lesson about where you fit in this business." With that, the Bull Terrier turned slightly, and lifted a leg. Isabelle only had a moment to gasp in shock before a warm, yellow stream arced down and hit her shaved, furless chest.

"Whu...?" she sputtered.

Meanwhile, Darby was getting into a rhythm, his cock getting firmer as he pumped between Mel's breasts up into her soft, wet muzzle. But if she was going to convince him, he knew what she'd have to do. Nothing quite as awful as Allen would require - he knew his producer was a bit twisted. The Pointer pulled away from Mel and got out of the office the chair, kneeling next to the curious Cocker Spaniel. He said, "I'm gonna knot that pretty little asshole of yours."

The young, formerly innocent girl's eyes widened, but she nodded.

Darby smirked. Not even a word of protest. He said, "But it's gonna hurt unless I prep you. Turn around."

Most guys he knew liked to get rimmed, but Mr. Darby was one of the few he knew who liked to return the favor. After Isabelle had greased him up, and he'd watched Mel guzzle the rude terrier's rump, Darby had been dying to claim this girl's black cherry. His heart raced as the shivering Spaniel turned around, on all fours with her little stub tail raised and wagging for him. That damned producer had 'produced' enough to leak down here, but Darby chose to ignore it. Taking a deep breath, he didn't wait, sniffing her for only a second before plunging his tongue into her cum-stained pucker.

Mel's jaw dropped as that thick, wet tongue plundered her in one, forceful slurp, reflexively clenching and pushing him out. "Relax," Darby explained, and dove in again. Mel spread her hind legs and relaxed, the fervent, eager licks unfamiliar...but pleasant. She felt his paws grip her thighs tightly as he worked his way into every crevasse, slathering her up for what he knew would be a memorable event in the girl's life. He couldn't really say the same thing - girls like Mel were a dime a dozen.

"Oh...Mr. Darby," she groaned, her pussy bouncing up and down just below the real action.

Isabelle watched in disbelief as the pent up Terrier planted a steady yellow stream down her belly, before he turned his little white body upward, toward her glorious, Poodle mane. "Hey, wait!" she yipped, squirming backward, but he just turned faster, and before the girl knew it, he was dampening her curly, proudly-groomed fur, marking her with just about as much respect as he would show a fire hydrant. Isabelle whined, but it was too late - she would need a bath regardless, and if she turned off Allen, she would lose this gig for sure, despite all the work she'd already put into it! Grimacing, she watched with flattened ears as he doused every last inch of her poofy fur, grinning the whole time.

"Now you're getting it," he grunted, a grin on his face as he relieved himself. He'd been holding it in all day. "You're lucky that Darby was content to fuck you, and you'll be lucky if that's all I want, after this. We call all the shots here, bitch. You just have the one choice - take it, or leave."

Isabelle quickly shook her head. "I won't leave," she promised. "Whatever you want to do to me."

"That's what I was hoping to hear," Allen grinned, and turned his stream without delay to splatter right onto the shocked middle schooler's face. "Drink up!"

Isabelle closed her nose and mouth and clenched her eyes shut by reflex as the warm liquid drenched her face. Even with Allen acting like he had been, she had never expected this! He wanted her to drink his pee!? She couldn't even object without opening her nose or mouth. She turned her head away at first. But as gross as it was, could she really throw away all she's already given? She'd given Darby a thorough tonguing, then fucked him, and she was already drenched in Allen's urine. Turning her head back, she steeled herself, opened her mouth, and let the steady stream splash into her muzzle.

"Good girl!" Allen praised. Unfortunately, his bladder was starting to empty - he could have done this all day.

Isabelle tried not to drink deeply, but a lot of the bitter liquid was hitting the back of her throat. Plenty spilled out the sides of her muzzle though, leaving her in a damp, unpleasantly warm puddle. But the producer's encouraging words helped the hope inside her surge. Surely allowing _this_would trump anything Mel could do. She could only guess at what Mr. Allen would want next, but for now, at least, she was still in the hunt. And besides, he was already running out of steam, having spent most of it drenching her chest.

Allen squeezed out the last few dribbled onto the floor and started to say something, but Isabelle was faster. "Nnngh," she groaned. "Fuck me, Mr. Allen! Pump me full of puppies!"

She didn't know that those were the magic words, but all the sinister, dominating things he'd planned to do with her would have to wait until he satisfied that primal, breeding urge. "Back that spade up to the stage, you dumb whore. I'll give it my best shot."

Mel's tailhole was dripping in spit now, and Mr. Darby had held off as long as he could. Sliding his legs in front of him, he sat on the floor and grabbed the Cocker Spaniel by the rump, yanking her back by the waist until she was basically sitting in his lap. Her slicked anus rubbed neatly up against his dripping tip, totally unaware and as prepared as she could be for the coming, bulging knot. "Ready or not, here it comes," he whispered in Mel's ears.

"Ahhhh!" she yipped, the Pointer's powerful paws pushing her down onto his growing cock. He sank easily into her wet asshole, the new, filling sensation even better for the inexperienced young bitch. "Mr. Darby!" she wailed, as he filled out her bum. She whimpered and groaned, pumping her hips gently in time to the director's thrusts. It didn't hurt as much as she thought it would!

Now that they were together, Darby reached around to grasp her pert breasts, gently twirling and squeezing them as he continued to wedge more of his cock into her tight tunnel. The middle of his shaft was even wider, and he got a few sharp grunts from Mel. But he had to keep going, or her squeezing tailhole would trigger his knot way too early. Grabbing the nape of her neck in his teeth, he reached down to her thighs and pushed her down onto his rod, pumping harder and harder until she was fighting back tears. Even as slick as she was, Darby was a lot to take for the untried high schooler. But she did it! She sank all the way to the hilt, her sphincter cupping the very base of his cock and embracing his half-swollen knot. "That's it," he said encouragingly.

"You're so big!" she yipped, even as he started to grow inside her. "Mr...Darby!?" she gasped, her rectum swelling out around that massive knot. "Mr. Darby!"

"Relax, Mel, don't fight it. It's already too late to back out now."

She bit her lip and tried to relax her tailhole, getting stuffed so hard that she could feel her rectum pushing and squeezing her other internal organs. "O-oh!" she whined, her head tilted back. First she'd popped her cherry with the eager Bull Terrier, and now her ass was hilted down around the director's knot. How had this happened?

Isabelle, dripping, lifted her comparably dry, furless rump to the stage, her front legs flat with the floor. She waggled her hips, her tail splayed to the side like an obedient bitch in heat, though her diminutive spade belied the truth. Still, Mr. Allen was always happy to dump his nuts into an unprotected cunt, and he'd knocked up more than one wanna-be actress out of season. Climbing onto the stage so that he could better claim the taller Poodle's hindquarters, Allen took a nice, heady whiff of her cum-stained cunny. The once-well-groomed girl was a mess, but he didn't mind sloppy seconds. "You ever been fucked by a feral?" he asked, his dick throbbing.

"No," she admitted. He wouldn't be surprised - there weren't many four-leggers in the business, anyway.

"Then you better brace yourself," he grinned. With that, the seventy-pound dog grabbed her by the rump, yanking the larger, though weaker Poodle backwards onto his waiting cock. He knew exactly how to bury it up and into her quivering pussy, sinking in with a lewd splorch that send a splatter of Darby's cum spilling onto the stairs below. Leaning forward, he rested his barrel chest on her back, took the skin on her shoulder blades in his teeth, and began to hump.

He wasn't joking! Isabelle had to plant all four feet as he tugged her back and forth, sliding her across the floor. His cock was huge for such a small dog, and he pounded her hard, sharp, short thrusts keeping him knot deep inside. When Carl and Darby had fucked her, there were many competing sensations - their hands, tongues - but with Allen there was only the pin pricks on the back of her neck and the thumping, pumping, merciless thrusts. His balls slapped against her thighs as he used her like a glorified fleshlight, growling with each inch he pushed in and out, his cock trembling from her tight cunny. Again and again his sharp tip grazed her cervix, wanting nothing more than to breach her little womb and leave her with a hale and sizable litter of mutts. Isabelle panted and squealed against his onslaught, the terrier's growing knot grinding against her clit. So savage, so...sexual. "I'm yours!" she whined, bucking her hips up and down. "Just a silly - unf - stupid bitch for you to play with!"

Allen couldn't have been more pleased, the soaked, marked bitch begging for him like the slut that she was. He could only hope that her recent heat had left an egg or two to claim, his bare tip squished up against her defenseless womb. He could feel his knot growing, bloating that Poodle pussy wide. He and Darby always ended auditions early, to give plenty of time to knot a desperate enough bitch. There was still plenty of time on the clock before these girls, barely teens, would be picked up by their parents, perhaps with a few tell-tale scents, but mostly cleaned up in their shower. So he didn't have to think twice before swelling up and locking his thrusting hips to the horny slut. "Unf! Unf!" he panted through the grip on her scruff, his balls starting to throb as he neared the blessed moment of truth. A wave of contentment washed over the dominant Bull Terrier, a well-deserved orgasm gripping his small, powerful body. What was a fleeting moment of ecstasy for him was a die roll for the bitch as he splattered her insides in sticky, white dog cum, pumping her womb full a second time, each gush splashing audibly into the sizable pool that Darby had left behind.

Isabelle lost it completely - after all, if she was fertile, Mr. Darby had already done the damage. Like with Carl, the thought of giving up her belly to either or both of these men was a turn on in the moment, as awful as getting pregnant would be for her career. With his shuddering knot jumping and grinding against her clit, her bulging pussy clenched hard and her hips were a blur, Isabelle moaning loudly, "Give it to me! All of it!"

He dug his claws into her abdomen, buried so deep and stuck so tight within her that the whole world seemed to consist of his erupting red cock, bloating her belly with each loud splurt, her quivering vulva locking everything inside. The two dogs whined and panted and groaned together as they came in mindless, animalistic ecstasy. Isabelle should have felt humiliated and used, still dripping from Allen's urine, but his knot served as a rather convincing closing argument on his case that her place was beneath him. Isabelle knew that if she wanted anything in this world, her only real selling point was her fat, grey spade, and Allen marking her had made the girl realize that playing kid games for small-time shoots in magazines was over. Isabelle was open for business.

But Mel was giving her a run for her money. The Cocker Spaniel was yelping, "Ah! Ah! Mr. Darby! Harder!" as she sat in his lap. Nothing like just three years before when she'd last gotten her picture taken in Santa's lap, now the fourteen-year-old was split wide open by the director's full knot, distending her aching sphincter around his enormous bulge. His paws held her by the hips, yanking her up and down rapidly as he pumped back and forth, his teeth gritted together. The German Shorthaired Pointer could barely believe how her rectum quivered around his enormous dick, the petite highschooler shuddering as he throbbed up inside her, triggering sensations she'd never known existed. She tossed her head back and moaned, her long, luxurious ears flopping down her back.

But as much as the pain fought with pleasure inside of her from the sheer size of that invading member, Mr. Darby knew how to really push her buttons. Whispering in her ears, he said, "Such a good little bitch..." He slid both paws in from her thighs, converging on her spade, quivering untouched in the air. He knew that Allen had wrecked the young girl and left her unprotected pussy dripping in cum, but that was what he was counting on. Two fingers from each hand forked around the bottom folds of her fortune cookie, pulling her apart and leaving Mel howling in pleasant surprise.

Carefully, Darby dipped inside her, letting his producing partner's slick, oily cum spill down the fingers on his right hand. Then, he pulled back and inserted the fingers of his left, curling up where he knew her little nub was. Now he literally pressed her button, waiting for her to helplessly open her jaw and moan.

"Mr. Daaar -" she yelped, bucking her hips, but before she could finish her whimper, he stick his right paw in her mouth. Eyes widening, she felt his juicy digits push deep into her muzzle and she reflexively closed around them, Allen's left-over cum now slathering her tongue. It took a moment to process, but once she realized what had happened, what once would have disgusted the young girl instead had her slurping and suckling it up eagerly, slamming her hips up and down against his firm knot and powerful fingering.

Darby howled and leaned forward, humping harder as he came in the girl's butt, completing the trifecta that Allen had started - oral, vaginal, and anal virginity - from the no-longer innocent teen. She bucked and moaned and suckled, quickly gulping every available drop from the adult's fingers, only for the man to dip back in and return with a second batch that she lapped up just as gleefully, her second orgasm every bit as strong as her first. Perhaps stronger, as Mr. Darby spent a fair bit of time finishing up in her rump, but Mel was still just squealing like a stuck pig, her dazed eyes rolling. She collapsed to the floor, still tied firmly to the Pointer, thoroughly abused.

Meanwhile, Mr. Allen had turned around, dropping his hind paws to the first step as he groaned, rump to rump with the Poodle. She had her ass in the air and her head on her front paws, whining gently as more and more squeezed out of the terrier's balls and sank down into her sloshing belly, but she couldn't move without squishing the male against the stairs or pulling him unceremoniously off of them. She didn't think he'd appreciate the reminder that he was smaller than she was.

Together, the four of them whined at the edge of their climaxes, grunting, groaning, moaning, and cumming, both girls doing everything asked of them and more. But the guys wouldn't reveal what their votes were now until after the girls got cleaned up. The guys didn't mind the musk and sweat of sex on_their_ bodies, but they couldn't have their applicants return to their parents dripping in cum and pee. While the two men discussed, Mel and Isabelle were led to the showers.

"I - I can't believe we did that," Mel shivered, looking down at the younger Poodle.

Isabelle just cocked her head. "This is what it takes to get ahead, sister. If you aren't ready for it, then leave it to those of us who are."

Mel shook her head. "I didn't go this far just to back down now."

It was tense between the girls, until Mel noticed that Isabelle was having trouble getting thoroughly soaped off without her brother there to help. Taking a deep breath, Mel knelt next her competition, and even though the four-legged bitch had never once been nice to the Cocker Spaniel, she helped Isabelle wash up. The Poodle said nothing, for or against, torn between frustration and gratitude.

Together, naked, they emerged as clean as they were going to get from the bathroom, the faint scent of sex mostly gone from their fur. But just beneath their tails they were carrying a potent musk that slowly leaked out of them. Isabelle had to pray that her father, a four-legger with his more powerful nose, wouldn't notice over the smell of the soap.

The men were dressed, emphasizing the power differential with the naked teenagers. "We've made our decision. You both made a very compelling case, but there's only room for one Blue-Moo spokesgirl. I'm afraid it all came down to the condom."

Isabelle gasped, glancing side-eyed at Mel. The girl hadn't let Mr. Allen have his way with her bare cunt. The Poodle should have known that the dominating terrier would want someone willing to risk his litter. She knew from experience how much the four-legged wanted to breed. Mel dropped her jaw, heartbroken, but then she set it again, refusing to budge, even though ultimately the rubber had burst inside her, leaving her every bit as drippingly full as Isabelle. She said, "I'm not changing my mind on that."

Isabelle's heart swelled. She'd done it! Defeated her riv -

"I know - and that's why we've chosen you, Mel."

...

The girls glanced at each other for a full seven seconds before they both turned back and gasped, "What!?"

Mr. Darby at least looked apologetic. "Look, Isabelle, you were the better fuck. I have to admit that. But we're casting for Blue-Moo. If their spokesmodel got knocked up, it'll blow the whole contract and that would reflect on us. We can't have a total whore like you on the job."

Isabelle gaped. "That - that's not fair! I mean...she got bred, too!" She stared at the Cocker Spaniel who was trying badly to hide her excitement.

Mr. Allen, back in his little suit and tie, said, "But not because she wanted it. You're too big a risk, despite just how much I enjoyed pumping that slender belly full."

Now tears were forming in the thirteen-year-old's eyes. After all she'd given up to these...these males. "I'll change. I won't let you do that again. I told you, I'd do anything for this job..."

Darby smiled sadly, handing papers to be signed to his new client. "A girl like you? In our experience, you don't change."

The Bull Terrier agreed. "You know your place all too well. The minute someone could help your career, your tail'll go up again, protection or not."

"But - I let you both fuck me. I let you pee on me!" she complained.

Mr. Allen looked over at Mr. Darby, nodding, then looked back at Isabelle. "Just because you're not the right fit for Blue-Moo doesn't mean you don't fit in anywhere."

The two-legger knelt and slid a card into Isabelle's neck pouch. "If you're looking for work more...up your alley, just call that number. But I wouldn't share this audition with your parents if I were you." Grabbing her clothes, he quickly laced up Isabelle's blouse and fixed up her skirt, though he didn't try as hard as Benji had to get it just right.

Isabelle growled, but didn't pull away until she was dressed. "This - this sucks!"

But the two men were already turning their attention to their new hire, who was bouncing up and down as she signed the contract.

Isabelle's tail drooped and her ears were flat as she stepped out to where her father's sedan waited to pick her up. He could tell immediately that she hadn't gotten the gig, though he had no idea just how hard his little girl had tried. Isabelle hopped into the back with her father, not even bothering to look at their driver, Angela.

"I'm sorry, baby girl," Gerald said sadly.

"It's fine, Dad," she growled. She appreciated his condolences, but she couldn't have him hugging her with the way she smelled right now. She had to keep her distance. Don't smell them, don't smell them, she thought to herself, sniffing secretly to see how bad it was.

It was bad. The back of the sedan already smelled like sex, and she was surprised that her father didn't seem to notice. He'd always been a bit clueless, sure. Or maybe he just refused to acknowledge anything that didn't suit him. But they rode home silently, never discussing the musky scent in the back. Isabelle ran to her room and slammed the door, finally exhaling in relief.

She slid her neck pouch off and pulled out the card. There was no name or nothing - just a number. Gulping, Isabelle slipped the card between two of her least favorite books on her bookshelf. Maybe Darby and Allen were right. Maybe there were jobs out there more suited for a girl like her...

* * * * *

It was the next morning when Benji, the family's adopted son, sprung his video on his 'mother'. Mona kissed her husband on the lips as she always did, forcing her paws to move one after the other as she followed the two-legged Doberman mix to the bathroom to get dressed for the day. Did Gerald notice how much longer it was taking for her to get ready? She could only hope not.

When the door closed and she was alone with Benji, his demeanor changed. He glared down at the pristine, white-furred Poodle, and said, "I've got a present for you, bitch."

Shivering, the forty-three year old model just nodded, padding up to the boy she'd treated as a servant for years. But she was his now, or he would tell Gerald everything that had happened at the airport. And every day, Benji gained more blackmail, often recording their 'morning routine'. She was used to doing what she had to to earn her clothes for the day, and his silence. He was sitting naked at the edge of the tub, and she crawled forward meekly, her eyes on his caramel-colored sheath.

But Benji shook his head, instead pointing over to the new laptop she'd encouraged Gerald to buy for him. First a car, then more lenient rules on staying out late, the lap top, allowing him to start dating - he was milking his blackmail for all it was worth, and it was worth a lot.

Mona gasped when she saw what was on the camera. Now he was secretly recording Gerald!? The image was of the back of his sedan, the wide seat in clear view of an apparently disguised camera affixed in what must be the air conditioning vent on the ceiling. "Yesterday, after dropping Isa off for her audition," he explained.

It showed Gerald sitting in the back seat with Isabelle, as the pampered grey Poodle hopped out to try out for Blue-Moo. Then, the car pulled around and parked in a nearby parking garage. He said he was going to get some work done at the office. Mona stepped closer to the laptop, her tail curled up between her legs, back turned to her gloating son.

She knew what she was going to see, but still she hoped she was wrong. But the driver of their vehicle, Angela, stopped the car and climbed into the back seat with her black Poodle husband. She tried to look away, but Benji growled, "Watch."

Trembling, Mona stared ahead, biting her lip. Benji had made her ask to reinstate the young, two-legged Doberman driver, but she'd hoped just because he had a crush on the woman. They both knew she'd been fired for cheating on Mona with Gerald, and then trying to blackmail the older mining executive when she got knocked up. He'd refused to pay Angela off, even as the woman told Mona in detail what she'd been doing in the backseat with the male.

Gerald had apologized profusely of course, and promised to be better, but he had to wonder why his wife was asking for Angela to be reinstated. Mona had hoped they could keep it professional, even as Angela started to swell with his pup, but she should have known better. Give a cheater a break, and they will inevitably break. She watched in horror as that blackmailing whore grinned and took off her clothes, undoing Gerald's shirt as well, and in the dirty and dark parking garage, climbed onto his lap and sank her dark pussy down around him.

Mona yipped softly as she felt her son's paws on her hips, yanking her toward him. He made sure she was still face to face with the video and said, "What did you expect? You basically begged him to drive around with his former, pregnant mistress?"

"You made me."

"You had a choice," he chuckled, positioning his mom's hips between his legs as he sat at the edge of the tub. "It's only fair you watch them going at it, after you fucked that security guard and his dog. Don't you dare close your eyes."

She didn't, even as Benji pulled her roughly back onto his cock, piercing her pink spade in a well-practiced thrust. Dozens of times now, he'd taken her, but this was a new low. She fought back tears as she watched the husband that she loved betray her again, knowing that she could hardly talk. After all, Gerald had had the balls to reject Angela's blackmail and come clean. But Mona couldn't let him know what had happened that day. She wasn't as strong as he was. She whimpered as her strong, feral husband bucked up into the Doberman bitch, his paws gently reaching up to rub her swollen, caramel belly.

Mona whined and humped her hips, losing her battle with her tear ducts. Wet fur matted her face beneath her eyes, even as she gasped and moaned beneath her son's skilled thrusts, his paws reaching around to caress her own belly, soon to grow with Benji's adulterous mutt. What would she do then?

She'd gone over it again and again in her head, but even if she convinced Gerald the pup was his, when it came out black and caramel, he'd know what really happened. She was at a loss for what to do.

Maybe Benji will come up with something? she hoped, groaning, her tail to the side, biting back a howl as he finally made her cum.

Just in time to see Gerald dump his nuts up into Angela.