FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The City of Lights was as beautiful as it was cutthroat, a dog-eat-dog world of fashion, art, culture, and, of course, Pokémon battles. Lumiose was the center of everything in Kalos, from the region itself to all the news and culture fit to print. To spend one evening walking the famed streets and alleys, enjoying the museums or simply sitting in a Kalosian cafe was to die for. Truly, in all the world, there was no place as grand or magnificent as Lumiose!

And basking in the beautiful morning air was Chevalet, her easel before her and her canvas lined with wondrous colors. Though her fur was a stark white, the Furfrou didn't wear it in one of the natural or stylish trims most of her fellow Furfrous would've. This was due to her particular heritage, one she treasured above all else, particularly in this beautiful city. With all the diversity in cultures, languages, and clashing ideals bustling around her, how could she not be proud of being that embodiment?

She watched the lights changing to daylight operations on the tower through the white mask that formed glasses on her pure black face. Her ears were a little shorter than a standard Furfrou, and while she did have colored bands on her front and back paws and on the tip of her tail, she was no Pharoh cut to be sure. No, unlike any trip the more stylish trainers gave their companions, her fur coat was unmanageable, the beret affixed to her head wasn't going anywhere. Nor was the paw print right in the center of her back, the fiery red of which never changed to match the tone of her tail nor her paws. Chevalet was a Furfrou, sure, but her father was a Smeargle, and she had inherited some of his traits beyond his ability to Sketch replicas of just about anything she looked at.

Her trainer had raised her from a pup, an oddity in her litter for not having the normal Furfrou trim. Her mother, Reine, was a show dog, one of the rare black-furred Furfrou given the most up to date styles and shown off at all the fancy gatherings, and while her mother's trainer hadn't known who had sired the litter, the hybrid produced couldn't be seen from such a distinguished line! Luckily, Chevalet the Smearfrou had been found in her box in the back alley and raised up right by a loving young artist who had just moved to Lumiose to start her own painting career.

Together they'd grown and flourished as artists, and while Janice was out trying to break into the art scene with paintings by her or with her precious Pokémon partner, Chevalet was given time to roam the city she loved and practice her craft on her own. Truly, this was the life, and Chevalet couldn't be happier than to be able to bask in such decadent comfort as natural came to all in Kalos. Even a starving artist was starving stylishly here.

"Would you look at that? Chevalet is spending his time raising his tail at the Prism Tower! Probably trying to woo some silly mutt." The hackles raised on the artistic pooch's back, feeling her natural paint turning red in anger as she recognized the voice. Only two things marred her perfect life: that her trainer hadn't quite mastered masculine and feminine nouns in the language while naming her... and her family was a bunch of bitches. She turned her head, a glare shooting at the prissy Furfrou in the Kabuki cut. "Can you believe he's still wasting her time with art after all these years?" Éventail laughed haughtily, her nose raised high, with the two flanking her laughing away as well. At least the other four had stayed home this time.

The Smearfrou rolled her eyes, looking down at her painting, then up at the tower, proud of her work. She flicked her tail quickly, signing it, even if that got another series of laughs from the family behind her. She then turned, glaring down her sister. "I know you've got nothing better to do than be pampered, but at least I know how to give something back to my trainer. What have you done besides get felt up by judges and told you're sub par?"

Baton stepped forward, the Dandy trimmed pup with the green accents, her favorite of the latest styles, she had to say, and looked at her painting, his nose lowering just enough to be able to gaze at it before he huffed. "As though you're doing much better with this swill. I've seen cleaner strokes made by apprentice groomers with broken brushes." He smirked as he walked away, his high tail showing off his perfect cut, and the red seeped into Chevalet's paw bands. She tried to have her Own Tempo about these sorts of things and be a Technician when it came to her art, but her litter mates knew all the best buttons to get right through her Fur Coat and turn her into a Moody mess.

"It would be all you know, wouldn't it? You prissy little bitches don't even know how to handle yourselves out here. If some street pup started a brawl with you, your fur wouldn't be looking so fine!" She growled, entering an aggressive stance, though she was trying to fight it in her head. Fighting would get them nowhere, it might even end with her trainer getting a fine, and that was the last thing they needed. But someone needed to teach these three a lesson!

Étoile, the rising star of the group with the fitting Star trim, aiming to take over their mother's place, even if she didn't have the rare inverted coat, stepped forward, her gaze seeming to look through Chevalet and her confidence honestly unsettling. She stepped right in front of the growling dog, cool as a cucumber as she appraised her sister. "You act so tough, but you haven't even performed. You don't know how vicious the stage can be." She then let out a Snarl, the wave of energy dodged by the jumpy Smearfrou, but enough to knock over the painting. Three calm steps and one forcefully placed paw had a hole through the canvas, ruining the work. The cold star then began to walk away, no emotion on her face. "If you've got some Frustration, feel free to take it out. If you try to hurt us, we will Retaliate, and while you wouldn't want to hurt your family, we wouldn't mind trimming some unseemly branches from the tree."

She continued to walk away calmly, while her siblings walked beside her, laughing and Taunting all the while. Chevalet continued to growl, looking at the painting with tears flowing down her eyes. She felt her tail flicking up, one of the many moves she'd seen others do coming to mind, but she was alone, and if she got hurt, how would Janice feel? With pain her her art, she picked up the broken canvas and her easel, prepping to leave, when a deep voice sounded from not too far away. "Excuse me, but that's no way to treat family. Aren't you going to apologize?"

Éventail's voice rang out in its annoyed tone. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Mutts shouldn't get involved in the affairs of nobility. Particularly foreign pests like y-" her voice was cut off with a sharp yipe, causing Chevalet to look at what was happening. The hat of the Furfrou's Kabuki trim was sliced in half, part of it on the ground, while what remained on her head was on fire, causing her to roll on the ground with surprise. Standing between Chevalet and her family was the mystery assailant. He was unlike anything she'd seen before, his beautiful cream tail and mane flowing on its own, while the fiery orange fur and brown tipped paws moved swiftly and deftly. Around its neck were sharp rocks, what had clearly made the slash through her sister's hair, while his pointed face boasted a power and fierceness long lost in the confines of the city. Somewhere, in the background, her sister was yelling, but Chevalet couldn't hear a word, transfixed by this beautiful form before her.

He turned, one of this orange eyes peering back towards Chevalet, and tilted his head in question. "Should I stop, or do these three need to learn some manners?"

With that she blinked, realizing the angry yells that were coming from the trio. She shrugged, then smiled. "I appreciate the help, but I wouldn't want you starting a fight on my behalf. Seeing that alone was enough for me."

The handsome mystery dog settled from his aggressive stance, nodding. "Right. Would you like an escort ba-" He paused, seeming to barely register the impact, while Baton had rushed forward, smashing his head into the guardian's thigh. However, it seemed he was rock hard on all sides, and Baton was massaging the flattened part of his fur where the hat had been deformed from the impact. There was a flash of fire in his eyes, sparks dancing along his mane and tickling the sharp edges of the rocks. "Excuse me for a moment."

The fire burst into a full flame, covering all the cream parts of his fur, before he moved faster than the eye could see. A moment later Baton was rolling across the grass, a scorched section on his chest where the tie used to be colored into his fur. Another blur of motion slashed his tail short, the tip smoldering, while this beautiful specimen of a dog landed at Chevalet's side, glaring angrily at the trio.

Éventail and Baton were both growling, ready to pounce, but Étoile stopped them with a paw, nodding knowingly at the newcomer. "We won't bother her. At least for now. But if you step in, will he be able to fight his own fights?" She then turned and began to walk away. "I doubt the mutt can do more than-"A torrent of water smashed into her rear, skidding her across the ground, followed by a quick electric bolt that stood her perfectly trimmed Star fur into a wild mess. She growled, then saw the sparks still trailing from Chevalet's tail and stomped in fury before running off, her litter mates in tow.

The fiery guardian smiled at the Smearfrou, nodding approvingly. "Nicely done. I didn't know you'd be so varied." He then offered a paw to shake. "My name is Flint, and I couldn't stand to see another hybrid getting bullied."

Chevalet offered her paw as well, shaking it happily. "Chevalet, and thank you! I don't fight much, but I pick up a lot from watching." She swished her tail, a little rush of flame and a sharp rock forming at the tip before disappearing into the paint. She giggled, then started walking. "Come, I need to thank you for what you did. And... another hybrid? What are you? I like to call myself a Smearfrou."

Flint laughed as he padded along behind her, just a little taller than she was. He only had a few inches on her, but it was enough to give him quite the imposing figure, at least to her family. "I suppose following that logic I'm an Arcaroc now, but before I evolved I was a Growlruff." He kept pace easily as she trotted, looking over her fur and making sure she was unharmed, as well as checking out her fine feminine features. However his eyes focused on the painting with the hole in it. "I'm sorry your canvas got destroyed. It was such a beautiful painting."

She waved her tail quickly, painting a small X in the air that fluttered away in flower petals. "Don't worry about it. I can paint Prism Tower all the time. And it was worth it to see them running with their tails between their legs." She laughed happily. "Take that you prissy little bitches!" She turned at an alley heading towards her home before she stopped, looking at Flint with a tilted head. "You won't get in trouble for this, will you? Your trainer won't be looking for you?"

He shook his head. "She went off to the museum. Something about seeing up and coming painters in 'the center of art and culture' or something." He laughed nervously. "I mean, I like the city, but it's all big for a small island pup like me."

There was only a moment spared on whether or not Janice would be one of the artists whose work was seen, but any time spent on that was less time spent admiring this wonderful real life specimen before her, and Chevalet wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste. "Good. Well, my trainer is out for a bit, but I figure, especially for a visitor in town, and such a chivalrous one at that, you deserve a place to relax and a proper reward. So, if you agree, I was going to get you some berry juice or some hot coffee, and then I was going to paint a portrait of the handsome Flint that rescued a damsel in distress." She giggled again, starting up the fire escape stairs to her apartment.

Flint followed behind eagerly, his fluffy tail wagging with excitement. "I would've just done it for the thank you, but coffee and an in-person study of the artist at work, especially a Pokémon artist... how could I ever say no?" He needed to squeeze a little to get through the doggy door, with the rock spikes at his neck causing a slight issue until he maneuvered around it, but soon enough he was in her apartment.

It was a true bachelorette pad in every sense of the word: clothes hanging on the chair, food bowls in the sink, a plant in the corner being lovingly watered, a few fantasy and romance books in piles scattered around, a bed that was made but was about the only fully clean item in the entire room. However, it also had the "studio" as Janice referred to it, the spot in the corner, near the window, covered with tarps and hanging with all of the essentials for inspiration while painting. Next to it, for practice, were objects of odd shapes and sizes, pose able dolls for human and Pokémon figures, and various comfortable places to sit for both two and four legged body types.

Upon entering the room Chevalet blushed, realizing the mess of the place. It wasn't as big a problem for her as for her trainer, obviously, but with all the refinement and class in the city, having a visitor come in to this was less than ideal. However, as she looked back at Flint, he didn't seem to mind any part of it, his attention instead focused on the many paintings on the wall and stacked in the corners. "Make yourself at home," the Smearfrou said as she went to the kitchen part of the single-room apartment and began the coffee machine, something she'd gotten quite good at doing despite having no hands.

Flint's eyes roamed over the paintings, from impressionistic works to pointillism projects to realistic paintings of live models, none of them were amateur. Many seemed to be practice; a flower vase, bowls of fruit, the dolls with light coming from an odd angle; but many more were spontaneous: the window on a rainy day with birds perched outside, flags flapping in the breeze, and Chevalet sleeping in her bed, flecks of paint on her pristine white fur and a soft smile on her face. This last one held his attention, the tough fighter enjoying the soft brush strokes and the love and care that went into every inch of it. "Your trainer really likes you," he said softly, smiling as he did. "Then again, who wouldn't?"

Chevalet waiver her paw dismissively, then focused on getting the saucers just right to pour the coffee into for the pair. "Well, she's wonderful, to be sure. But all trainers should love their Pokémon, right? We're trusted partners, and I can't imagine life without Janice." She looked at him and saw a pained look in his eyes, realizing immediately how charmed her life must be. "Or... I'm sorry, that must-"

Flint shook his head, getting into a more stoic pose as he sat in the painting area. "No, no, it's fine. Not all trainers start off with the best of intentions." His fluffy tail twitched with irritation behind him and he looked at the floor, as though studying the paint flecks on the tarp. "You quickly learn to treasure the good ones when you find them." He then smiled, looking towards Chevalet, "and usually find their partners are worth knowing too."

Chevalet blushed lightly, though her dark cheeks hid it. She then lifted the coffee pot and poured it into the saucers using her mouth. She had gotten good at this part too, but it didn't make it any less awkward, nor the pot any less hot. She'd gotten more burns on her mouth this way... but she was successful, placing it back in its container and beaming afterwards. "Well, those who go through hardship do seem to be the ones most deserving of kindness, and most ready to give it out, even if they hide their need behind a rock hard facade." She nudged his saucer to him, smiling softly before blowing on her own to cool it faster. "After all, most visitors wouldn't care, but you showed up like a knight in fiery armor."

Flint didn't worry about the heat of the drink, lapping it up and enjoying the taste. His trainer had mentioned a few different things for seeing in Kalos: the art, the culture, the coffee, and the people and Pokémon met along the way. So far, none were disappointing. At the comment about the knight, though, he chuckled. "Perhaps you've been reading too many fantasy stories. I'm just a visitor that knows how it is to be picked on for being weird." He finished his coffee, then smiled as she slowly lapped at hers, listening to her humming as she seemed lost in thought. The painting was beautiful, it was true, but it wasn't much of a match for her in the flesh.

As she finished her drink she looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. They were strong, a hint of sadness in them, but burning with the passion and intensity of a caldera full of lava and ready to erupt. She gazed deeper, her own red eyes contracting, narrowing, delving deep into his irises, as though she was gazing into his very soul. And there, for a moment, a spark: gentle, vibrant, alive, virile, and powerful.

A grin flicked across her muzzle as she jumped up, walking towards the tarp covered area. "So, how would you like to be painted? Something fast as a souvenir, or something the world deserves to see proudly in a museum? I may have something in mind, but I would like to know what it is you want."

Flint had gotten lost in her intense look, so much so that he was startled by her movement, a small lick of flame rushing towards her, but fading before it reached. He coughed nervously as he moved over to the area, looking at the tables and props and other options available. Finally, though, he dragged what looked like a small divan into the center of the space, sitting on it and lounging and giving Chevalet a playfully sensual look. "Why don't you draw me like one of your Kalosian girls?"

The painter pup blushed so hard even her tail and paws turned pink, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of his lithe form. Sleek, powerful, majestic, graceful... and with the way his legs were and his tail rested, she couldn't help but pick out the full swell of his family jewels in their protective pouch. She swallowed lightly, feeling her heartbeat pick up and having all sorts of thoughts cross her mind... but she couldn't. She'd just be proving her sister right.

She shook her head, snapping out of it, then turned a little to the side to see him as her tail flagged up, her scent wafting through the air as she began the outlining strokes. "As you wish, my fiery champion." Her eyes flicked rapidly between his lounging form and the canvas she had set up, every so often switching sides to make sure everything looked perfect. Flint noticed that her tongue poked out cutely, her brow furrowing but a smile forming on her face as her tail traced and flicked and swirled, the paintbrush-like bulb on the tip swapping through colors quickly.

And then she stopped, tilting her head and giggling, before she turned her back to him. For a moment his eyes went wide, getting a good glimpse of her spade as her tail was still up, drips of paint slipping down her tail to join the other liquid beading there. She sat down quickly, though, looking at him over her shoulder. "Hey, Flint, do you notice anything interesting about me?"

Flint thought for a few moments, pawing at the stones protruding from his neck fluff. "The perfect coat, the focus as you paint, the scent of the artist that fills the room, that little tune you hum when things go well..."

She blushed, her tail turning pink again, but she shook her head, her beret-like hair flopping cutely. "No, no, not that! On my back! The paw print!" He looked closer there, getting a good look at fiery orange dot in the center of her back with three smaller ones forming the paw print shape. It was out of place on a Furfrou, but blended seamlessly into her natural markings, making her hybrid nature all the more apparent and, as far as he was concerned, appealing. But he had to shake his head, unsure what she was going for.

She giggled playfully, flicking her tail up to point at it, the paint that beaded at the end of it the same color. "It's the same rich, fiery orange as your fur!" She then walked over, tapping him on the nose with her brush tail, her scent filling his nostrils. "That's my natural paint color. Every Smeargle has one, but what are the odds mine would so perfectly match your fur? It's like I was made to paint you," she said with a wink before she stepped back behind her canvas. Once there her tail changed colors, swapping to the rich cream of his fluff while he worked on getting her scent from his nose. Enchanting as it was, the paint was a bit stickier than he'd been expecting.

They maintained this for about an hour, her tail working rapidly, flicking between colors and moving between broad strokes and small, careful shifts, while he lounged and watched her process with rapt attention. She was artistry given form: grace and beauty and just enough silliness to truly speak to the soul. More than once she'd accidentally flash her rump at him as he sat there, giving him a clear view of her feminine folds. They alternated between being damp and not as her focus fluctuated, but her scent never fully left his nose, the paint she'd smeared filled with pheromones as well as colors, giving all kinds of information. And in his mind, much of the information was rather lewd, causing his sheath to bulge, then slowly open, the shiny red rocket of the guardian Arcaroc slowly slipping free, though he tried to hide it with his tail and shifting his legs.

Those motions, however, Chevalet refused to allow. Not because of the pose, she'd locked that in a long time ago. It wasn't for the shadows or coloring, though it helped, of course. She'd have been done with it minutes ago if she hadn't spent time admiring his fur. It shined so beautifully, even seeming to glow when a passing cloud blocked the sun for a second, creating a warmth in her heart. But the reason she didn't let him move was to satisfy the warmth between her legs.

Her focused tongue out had turned to a determined lip bite, trying to make sure she wasn't distracted too much before the painting was done. She was at the finishing touches, and his reaction would do the rest. Would he be a chaste and chivalrous knight, appreciating the finer things and leaving his princess's honor intact... or would they both give to their baser instincts for an afternoon of fiery, heated passion? She'd long decided she didn't much care about her family's taunts. She learned a lot through observing, sketching, and painting a Pokémon, and she had all she needed to at least make a mistake with Flint.

As she placed her paw print in the corner, signing it as just hers, she stepped back and nodded happily, her tail high and wagging as paint flicked this way and that on the tarp. That was, in fact, the main reason of the tarp. "Here you are, good sir Flint! Tell me what you think!" She stepped back and made sure he'd have a clear look at the artwork, while she'd have a clear look at his reaction.

He pawed over slowly and slightly awkwardly, the rod swinging under him giving him a little bit of a wide gait as he tried to make sure it didn't rub against his fur too hard. He could smell her arousal in the air, but was trying very hard to ignore it as he stepped in front of the painting to see how she saw him.

One look and his jaw dropped, eyes wide at the spectacle before him. It was a masterpiece, passionate brush strokes and intricate details, with special attention to the curves of the muscles, the glint of the fur, the fire in his eyes. It was tasteful, seductive, tantalizing, beautiful... The best way to describe it was like a knight triumphant after a battle relaxing, every curve of his toned muscles and lock of his regal mane painted elegantly for all the world to see. It captured Flint's likeness perfectly, and yet was so much more than what the real him could ever be.

In his stunned silence he took in the piece, every detail making his tail wag faster, his heart skipping a beat at the majesty of it. But the silence caught Chevalet by surprise, causing her to peek out from behind the easel nervously. "Umm... So... do you like it? I hope I didn't go too far."

"This is beautiful! I mean, I'm sure there isn't a normal museum for Pokémon, but seriously, I've never seen anything so amazingly done." He looked a little nervous, coughing into his mane as he looked into her eyes. "But, um... Is this how you see me? If so, it's very flattering, but I don't know if I deserve all this."

She shook her head. "Nonsense. You are handsome in body and deed, how could I do any less?" She then giggled, moving into the area she'd been painting in, happiness rushing through her and her fur bristling with joy. "You can have it! It's a reward for all you've done today."

His eyes went even wider, but he shook his head. "I can't take this! As that famous movie goes, 'It belongs in a museum!'" He chuckled, then sighed. "Of course, with such a beautiful artist, how could the work not be?" He looked over the canvas at her, watching her naturally blue shadowed eyes lower to half, a smile moving across her muzzle. Her paws became a deep purplish red, while her tail continued to wag and drip pink paint down it.

"Well, I must give something to you to repay your kind words and deeds... perhaps you could paint me instead, hmm?" She turned around, hopping her front paws on the divan with her tail high in the air, making her proposition obvious.

He missed it at first, continuing to look at the painting and laughing nervously. "Oh, no, I wasn't given the natural gifts you were. I could maybe hold a brush in my mouth, but I do-" he looked up, seeing her tail pointed down, the pink paint dripping down it splitting around her spade, forming a heart, while the brush itself served as an arrow aiming right for her lustful folds. "-ooooooooooh," he slowly said, nodding as he got closer. For all his strength and confidence earlier, as he approached he looked much more meek and careful, stepping close behind her. "Are you certain? I really don't need anything, if you don't want to-"

The tail slapped across his muzzle, her pheromone-laden paint covering his nose while she moved her beret-like fur with a paw. "Yes, I'm certain. So long as you're okay with a little bit of a mess, but I promise to help you shower after thi~HIIIiiiiiiissssss~." Her voice caught in her throat as she jumped as he made contact, the narrow nose of the Arcaroc diving into her folds and happily licking up them to be rewarded with her musky honey. As he continued she spread her legs, her word trailing off into a hiss of pleasure as he confidently made his move.

The paint didn't taste wonderful, but it wasn't bad either, and the scent drove Flint wild, his cock throbbing hard as a rock underneath him. His tongue curled into her spade, exploring her heated tunnel with wild abandon while he looked at the matted, multi-colored fur above it, the pure white splattered with drips in every color of the painting. And in the center of her back, that paw print, almost like a guide. He lapped over her clit, hearing her moan happily, and slowly pulled free before leaping up, his body covering hers, but no weight on her back yet.

She shuddered at his presence over her, the warmth of his cock slipping gently against the warmth of her pussy. She had two worries: that he'd be molten hot due to his fiery nature, or that he'd be incredibly heavy due to his stone solidness. Luckily for her, he seemed to have inherited the best of both worlds, his mane soft and fluffy as it pressed into her back, while his diamond hard cock was pleasantly, wondrously warm, heating up her whole body with a warm, lusty glow. They both growled with pleasure as he sank in, his hind legs pushing inch after inch into her body. But even with him being slightly larger than her, this wasn't a Wailord and a Skitty, and they seemed made for each other like a lock and a key.

"You're so tight," he purred into her ear, giving her cheek a lick. "I hope you want this as much as I do." His cock throbbed, making her gasp as it jumped within her silken tunnel.

Her paw lifted up to his cheek, caressing it and leaving a small smear of lusty purple-red paint. "So badly. Give me all you have, Flint. Paint my walls with your need." He growled dominantly, pulling back slightly, before his paw landed on the mark on her back, pinning her fluffy fur against the soft covers of the divan as he pulled back, then thrust fully into her, his hips meeting hers and transferring the paint between them, matting his fur and coating his balls with pink.

Her head whipped back and she howled out at his motion, her walls squeezing tightly around his cock kissing the end of her tunnel. "Ooooh fuck~ You feel divine!" As her body rocked with his motions and he lifted off her back, she pushed back against him, letting out little yelps of pure bliss. "You make me feel like a goddess~!"

"And yet I'm but a servant, aiming to please his queen," he said between breaths, focusing on his thrusting and his balls swinging and collecting the smeared paint and combined lust that dripped from her full spade. He gripped her neck in his teeth, making her gasp and shudder, before his tongue licked along the soft underside of her chin, her whole body reacting to his every motion.

Her toes curled, digging into the soft cushions beneath her before she reached up a paw, grabbing onto one of the rock spires that extended from his neck. Her claws dug into it, smears of paint in multiple colors sliding across it and flinging forward with every rocking motion of her body. Her tail wrapped up around his, both wagging together, while the rich cream of his fluffy appendage was slowly filled with a rainbow of color that dripped down his haunches and splattered the room with every motion. He growled into her neck, a back paw stepping forward to hit a sweet spot inside her as he began to pick up his pace, his knot starting to expand.

The fact their bodies complemented each other so much made Chevalet sing her song of lust to the skies, locking her paw behind his to make sure he wasn't going anywhere and holding onto his spire for all she was worth, her claws scraping along the rock making a wonderful percussion to match the wet slaps of their bodies meeting, the furious panting from their lungs, and the rhythmic pounding of their hearts in unison.

His teeth gripped her neck tightly as he growled, thrusting forward hard and spreading her spade before it slammed down, sealing his knot inside her. The thrusts picked up pace, lovemaking becoming an art form all its own as their souls entwined, her scent-filled paint sprinkling the room and her tongue lolling out in heavenly pleasure. She let out a howl, joined moments later by him as his white paint flushed into her, the warmth filling her every muscle as she climaxed around him, milking his length for every drop like she was going to paint her own canvas with what he had to give her. As his balls pulsed under him, it was clear he wasn't holding back, her belly bulging slightly with all the liquid lodged in there from their sealed connection.

Her legs wobbled, then gave out as she basked in the afterglow, bringing both of them crashing to the floor in a giggling mess. He licked and lapped at her fur from neck to nose to the top of her beret, while she nuzzled into his soft mane and returned the favor whenever she could. His paws wrapped around her and she snuggled back against his warmth, listening to his heartbeat and feeling like the muses themselves had been a part of that passionate union.

And then her ear perked as she heard a familiar sound of a key in the door, followed by the knob turning. Her eyes went wide and she blushed, knowing there was nothing she could do, but wishing her bulging spade and his knot weren't pointed that way.

"...but I hope you won't mind the mess. My Chevalet can do a real number when she's having fun, though she should be at the... park..." Janice's voice trailed off as she saw the tied pair, the marks of their union not only all over Flint, but splattered in flecks across most of the room. If enough canvases had been put up, perhaps this could've been a painting to rival Pollock, but as it was it just meant there'd be a real scrub down later.

"Well, hopefully my pup will be able to entertain himself while I'm gone, because..." A second woman's voice entered, then stopped before giggling brightly at the whole mess. "Flint! I leave you alone for a few hours and you make this much of a mess? How could you?" The Arcaroc looked so pleased with himself, his leg high to show off the multi color mess of fur around their locked genitals, and the rainbow of flecks and smears of paint across his muzzle, rocks, back, and balls was truly a sight to behold. Stifling laughter, she looked at Janice. "I'm so sorry. I'll help if any puppies arise from this, really."

Janice, however, was looking at the tied pair, then looked down at the canvas painted so beautifully, Flint's form shining in a true work of art. She huffed as she moved it a little further from the dogs, glaring at Chevalet. "Oh, it's no bother Marie. I'm mostly just mad that she beat me to this idea. Like trainer, like partner, I guess, and who wouldn't fall for such a beautiful pair?" She giggled as she looked toward Marie, who was blushing at the insinuation, yet she walked over and placed an arm around her anyway. "Well, since there's a bit of a mess over there, how about I do the painting part of you this evening as we're basking in the afterglow?"

Marie leaned into Janice's touch, looking into her eyes. "So forward... but I suppose I have to wait for a little bit anyway, with the state Flint's in... I wouldn't mind a distraction." Her hands slowly slipped around Janice's neck, their lips meeting as they fell towards the bed and hands began to roam to the hems and clasps of clothing.

Chevalet had her face in her paws at this whole situation, peeking out at the kissing couple on the bed while her face was bright pink from embarrassment. The blush only spread as Flint's knot slowly deflated, letting out a torrent of cum that ran down her thigh and spilled onto the tarp, mixing with the paint there.

Flint continued to nuzzle into her softly and playfully, rubbing his cock along her cum-slicked fur and daubing his warm white fluid along the matted mess, seemingly trying to get the colors out from it. She purred at the feeling, still leaning into him, as he chuckled, then growled lustily in her ear. "Nope... didn't get rid of the other paint. Looks like you'll need a second coat."

Chevalet tilted her head, then gasped and moaned as her sensitive folds were filled once more, the Arcaroc silencing her meager protests with a deep muzzle-locking kiss as they joined their trainers in what would prove to be a very productive, passionate, and artistic evening.