FSE

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This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this story are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are of legal and consenting age, likewise if you are reading this story you should be of legal age in your respective country.

All characters are my own creation, any resemblance to existing characters is purely coincidental and not intentional, please do not use them without permission. If you would like to use them in a story, please feel free to send me a PM either as Inja on SoFurry or TheRealInja on FA. As always I am open to new story ideas or situations with existing characters as well.

Before some of you complain about how certain aspects of the law have been twisted and tortured to fit this story, I know. I am not a lawyer and I have just mutilated certain things to fit the context of the story, but its furry smut, what do you want from me? ;P Also this turned out a lot longer than expected, I really enjoy the characters of Marty and Rosalind, they're a lot of fun to write.

Rosalind Rothschild, the number one ball busting lawyer for two years running and not afraid to let anyone know it, paced back and forth in her apartment as she packed for another trip to Las Vegas. The confirmation for her stall booking marked as read still displayed on her phone screen resting on her nightstand. For once the Doberman bitch was actually smiling, wondering if this would be the year her mysterious lover returned and gave her another earth shaking fucking. At least this time she would be able to attend without having to dodge her useless partner Dan, this trip was purely for personal and fun reasons.

As Rosalind held up a pair of red lace crotchless panties, pondering if they'd attract more attention this time around; her phone began to ring. Frowning as she looked at the unknown number, the area code looking to be Tennessee based.

"Hello?" Rosalind asked with uncertain annoyance.

"Hey Roz, its Marty...I need your help" came a familiar voice she'd not heard in years.

Images of that night flashed back to her mind, the flashing blue and reds, sitting beside her weeping cousin as the paramedics tried in vain to revive her father, Rosalind's uncle. He'd been speeding on a wet road and come off his bike, slamming into the barrier at over a hundred miles per hour. His Strontium Yellow Triumph motorcycle now a crumpled wreck on the side of the road. Marty had broken down when she saw them look bleakly at her before shaking their heads and drawing the covers up over his head, Rosalind clinging to her cousin as she started wailing and trying to claw the covers back as if it would return life to her father.

Marty had begun a downward spiral since that day, drinking a little too much, partying too hard, and even starting to get involved with minor illegal activities. Rosalind had tried to help keep her on the straight and narrow, but eventually she had to cut ties when her path to becoming a lawyer began to be jeopardized. Marty had been the closest thing to a sister she'd had most of her life, so cutting her out of her life like that was the hardest thing Rosalind had ever done. Vowing from then on not to let anyone get that close again, she'd built up a cold exterior to keep others at bay, not wanting to be hurt again by another person.

As she listened to Marty explain what was happening, Rosalind's blood began to boil. Marty had been arrested for resisting arrest and assaulting an officer during a routine stop, at least that's how the charges had read on paper, seeming like a pretty cut and dry case. Added to this all Marty's outstanding fines and warrants, there was a good chance she'd be seeing the inside of a prison. Without much time left to explain her situation, Marty re-laid the most critical piece of information. The arresting officer was Bryce.

"That son of a bitch! Sit tight, I'm on my way" Rosalind growled through the phone.

Within a couple of hours Rosalind was pulling into the parking lot of the Police department where Marty was being held. Bringing all her big city bluster with her and completely dominating the small Chihuahua unlucky enough to be manning the front desk when she arrived. She was taken through to an interview room and Marty was soon brought out to see her, being shuffled in wearing ankle and wrist cuffs as if she were a hardened criminal, though truth be told Rosalind wasn't entirely sure she wasn't one.

"So tell me what exactly happened" Rosalind began, starting to scribble notes as Marty began describing the scene. She admitted to having been speeding, that much was true. What the report however didn't state was that by resisting arrest, all that really meant was that she'd told Bryce to fuck off when he'd offered to let her go if she lifted her tail for him again. The "again" part caught Rosalind's attention, but she didn't press for further information just yet. Also assaulting an officer occurred when he grabbed her ass and she'd slapped his hand away, Bryce being the asshole he was, didn't take lightly to being rejected and had promptly arrested her on trumped up charges.

When Rosalind asked about the "again" part of her story, Marty reluctantly relayed their encounter in the barn, making her cousins brows raise questioningly, but it did help her understand why Bryce would be so bold to proposition her like he had. She also knew what he was like back in school, when she'd rejected his advances, he'd gone after Marty next. She'd wanted Marty to press charges against Bryce back then, but Marty didn't want the attention or hassle. If she had, that mark might have been the one thing that'd stopped Bryce from getting on the force and prevented this mess from happening in the first place.

"Alright, so the way I see it, I should be able to get the resisting arrest and assaulting an officer charges dropped. But the fact of the matter is, you were speeding and you have outstanding warrants and fines. They're going to suspend your license for a while at least, you might have to spend a few days in a jail cell even, but I'll do my best to make sure you don't go to prison" Rosalind eventually said with a sigh as she closed her file and stared at Marty. At one point they could've passed for twins, but now they looked so different. Marty with her wild shaved side haircut dyed bright red while Rosalind wore her hair up in a respectable tight bun atop her head. Marty clad in tight leather and a low cut top, while Rosalind wore her typical light grey pants suit. "With any luck I'll have you out of here before the weekend."

Somehow fate seemed to be smiling on Rosalind the next day after requesting leave to expedite the case, the presiding judge was one she knew rather well. Judge Whipple had been something of a mentor to her during her formative years and had always been a constant source of encouragement and inspiration. She'd lost contact with him around the same time she'd cut ties with Marty, but it made her happy to see the friendly old bulldog now grey with age donning his robes and gavel still. She caught the brief twinkle of recognition in his eyes as she presented her case to him within his chambers a day after meeting with Marty, of course Bryce was there in tow and grinning smugly as if it were a forgone conclusion.

Rosalind glared at Bryce as she dressed him down with unmatched skill, sighting that due to a lack of bodycam or even dashcam footage, his insistence that her client had been resisting arrest or had even assaulted him were at best hearsay. She made sure to note their size difference and the fact that the only person with any signs of injury was Marty with how roughly he'd handcuffed her. She also brought up a few witness testimonials she'd managed to find against Bryce's character, especially toward women. Rosalind grinned as he sputtered and spat in disbelief when Judge Whipple ruled in favour of Rosalind, though he did stipulate that as expected, Marty's license would be suspended for no less than six months, perhaps longer if she did not pay her outstanding fines. They would keep her bike impounded for the duration in lieu of crushing it, despite Bryce's objections. Bail was set at an astronomical fee that made the stallion smirk, thinking there was no way Marty was getting out of jail anytime soon. Again Rosalind objected, giving the old bulldog that same charming smile she used to use back in her early days to win people over but was rarely seen now; Judge Whipple sighed and changed his mind and remanded Marty into Rosalind's custody for no less than forty-eight hours instead under monitored supervision.

While Rosalind wasn't exactly thrilled at having to babysit Marty, she was at least glad her cousin would be out of jail sooner rather than later. Judge Whipple even managing to make the stone cold Doberman bitch laugh as he turned to her once Bryce had left the room and muttering an "I really hate that guy..."

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Not too long after she'd left the Judge's rooms, Rosalind was back at the Police department to collect Marty. Signing the final paperwork and accepting responsibility for the rough looking Doberman. After explaining all the rules and stipulations, despite Marty's protests at first, she eventually came around and agreed that she'd gotten off remarkably scot-free. As much as she hated that her bike was impounded for so long, at least it wasn't sent to the crusher. Though having her license suspended for six months would be painful, especially for someone as fiercely independent as she was. Marty was also not too pleased about having to be supervised for the next forty-eight hours, but at least it'd give her some time to catch up with Rosalind. It had been too long since they'd last spoken and there was so much that needed to be said, so much had changed and more so recently than ever.

Climbing into Rosalind's rental car, they began their trip back to their old hometown, Rosalind lending Marty her phone to call home and let everyone know she was okay and on her way back. Despite Marty's protests as the trip seemed to be taking far longer than it really should have, Rosalind followed along with the cars built-in GPS navigation system, driving along unfamiliar tarmac that gave way to gravel roads and eventually dirt.

"See, damn thing doesn't know its ass from its elbow! Even I don't know where the hell we are now..." Marty growled with a sigh, shaking her head at Rosalind.

"Its fine, we can pull in at that bar up ahead to get directions. Maybe get something to eat while we're at it, I haven't had a proper meal since before you first called me" Rosalind replied back coolly.

As much as Marty wanted to argue, her stomach concurred with her cousins as it grumbled and made its desire for nourishment other than terrible jail food known. Rosalind swung into the rather empty parking, save for one old beat-up pickup parked out front bearing the bars logo on it, probably the owners. Soft rock emanated from within, sounding like they had a jukebox playing, giving the place an almost friendly classic charm. As they walked up the small path and stairs to the front door, Marty noticed a couple of bikes parked around the far side of the bar, the sight giving her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Best let me handle the small talk and order our food..." Marty offered as they entered the bar and all eyes immediately turned on them. Rosalind doing her best to ignore the stares of the patrons as she took a seat at an open table while Marty made her way over to the bar, leaning forward to speak with the large wild boar behind the counter. Rosalind noticed the halo tattoo with devil horns and angel wings at the small of Marty's back as her short top and jacket rode up, so too did a few of the other bar patrons it seemed. Whispers broke out amongst a few of them, Marty very clearly the subject as they pointed and stared.

"Uh Marty, I hate to ask...but is there something significant about your tattoo? It seems to be causing quite a fuss..." Rosalind asked curiously as Marty walked over carrying a pair of beer bottles in her hand.

"What....oh shit, I was afraid of this..." Marty replied with a low growl as a tall dark furred ewe with long silver hair, clad in read leathers strode over to lean against their table and staring straight at Marty.

"You know the rules about intruding on someone else's turf, Heavens Devil slut...unless you have permission of the head honcho, there's a fine to be paid. Seeing as I'm this here chapters head honcho, I know for damn sure you don't have my permission to be here" the ewe snarled.

"We don't want trouble, we just got a little turned around and didn't know this was your turf..." Rosalind interjected.

"I wasn't talking to you, prissy little pussy. I was talking to this here biker bitch, now shut your yap before I cut your tongue out and feed it to you" the ewe shot back with a glare that made the ball busting Doberman bitch flinch.

"What do you want?" Marty asked, though she feared she knew the answer already.

"Cash or ass" came the dreaded answer, Marty was pretty sure the two dollars she had left in her back pocket was nowhere near enough to get out of this situation.

Marty looked over at Rosalind hopefully, the still stunned Doberman stammering before pulling out her purse and muttering "Do you accept Visa?" as she showed she didn't carry paper money.

"Nuh uh, we prefer small untraceable donations, for legal reasons..." the ewe now stared hard at Rosalind, almost undressing the Doberman with her eyes and making her blush. With a brief nod to someone behind her, the rest of her crew moved into position, closing and locking the doors so there was no escape. The two Doberman women surrounded by a group of menacing looking furs.

"Give us a second to discuss this, please?" Marty asked hopefully, thankful when the ewe consented and stepped away to lean against the bar to chat with the large wild boar. "Dammit Roz, what've you gotten us into? Look, this seems to be one of the stereotypical biker gangs, looking at their markings and tattoos, it looks like they're not exactly friendly with the law. Luckily they don't seem to know whom I am or this could start a major turf war, so please for the love of God, just play along and do as they say?" Marty pleaded, knowing what she was asking of her cousin.

"You expect me to let a group of strangers fuck me?" Rosalind hissed back at Marty in disbelief.

"Yes...it's either that or we become an unsolved mystery statistic, and for the love of God do NOT let on about being a lawyer. I have a sneaky suspicion they wouldn't take to kindly to that" Marty responded with an almost panicked look in her eyes, her stare unwavering as she let Rosalind know just how serious their situation was.

"Fine, but you owe me big time for this!" Rosalind eventually consented with a deep growl, Marty simply nodded once in response.

"We'll do it, but let's try keep this civil at least? No sense in getting too excited over a simple mistake, right?" For once Marty dropped the attitude and spoke politely, knowing they were outnumbered and then some as she looked around the bar at the various people around them.

The leader she learned was Monroe, a dark furred ewe with long flowing silver hair to just below her shoulders. Sharp golden eyes that hinted at the keen intellect and savagery behind them, she appeared to be unusually ferocious for a sheep. Dressed in an open red leather jacket with a small black bikini top beneath, leaving her full bust mostly bared, down to her slender belly and waist. Tight red leather pants rode low on her hips, showing the thin straps of her matching black thong at her hips.

Beside the ewe was a shorter and more serious, unsmiling feline Monroe had referred to as Cheech. With spikey red hair and an orange coat, a white muzzle leading down her throat and belly from what was visible beneath her popped collar black leather jacket and red polo neck. Her hands clad in fingerless black gloves, matching the black stripes on her face, leading from the natural predatory dark rings beneath her eyes to back across her cheek and just under her ear. Another smaller black line of fur separating her orange coat from her white muzzle almost like a mask. Her eyes were unreadable, showing no emotion as she all but glared at Rosalind and Marty.

Behind the bar leering at the two Doberman women was the large wild boar named Gus. He'd seemed friendly enough when they'd first entered and Marty had spoken to him, but now he just looked like a hungry predator with a full meal presented to him. With short tusks and a flat snout sporting a fair bit of fuzz along his jowls, his spikey grey quaff of hair standing up straight and looking like he moussed it up in an attempt to try be more appealing somehow despite his advanced years. Thick arms sporting various tattoos and a broad chest sat above a rotund belly, dressed in a simple grey shirt and black sleeveless vest.

Blocking the door was a short stocky rabbit, Bucky as someone had called him. A soft golden furred coat, despite his size he looked rather strong and well defined. His golden coat broken up by the expanse of white from his lower muzzle running down over his chest and belly, probably down between his thighs too Marty assumed. A pair of welder's goggles sitting atop his head denoted him as the probable mechanic of the group, it would also explain the toned musculature he sported. His chest bare beneath his open sleeveless bombers jacket with the thick fleece collar. A cocky smirk on his lips as he openly leered at Marty, knowing he'd never likely get a shot with a woman of her calibre normally, but today was his lucky day.

Sitting patiently at a table beside the rabbit was a curious sight, a seemingly young ebony wolfess dressed in all black leather. Marty thought she'd heard Bucky call her Wylde but wasn't certain. The line of luminous green up her outer thigh and arms to her shoulders the only colour breaking the all black of her fur and clothing. Sitting with a hint of a smirk playing about her lips as she stared intently at Rosalind with what could only be described as hunger, her arms folded beneath her bust and her legs crossed at the knee, though not as high up as one might expect of a young limber wolfess.

To Wylde's right sat a massive black wolf with calm golden eyes, the black expanse of his fur broken up by bright crimson tribal tattoos along every inch of him that was visible, stopping just at his neck and throat. Similar to Wylde, his focus was directed at Rosalind, a fact that was not lost on her. The usually stoic Doberman wilting under the large wolf's intense gaze, for the first time since being kids sneaking into a horror movie did Marty see Rosalind almost look frightened.

Behind Marty and Rosalind at the table in the back sat an odd couple of a greyhound and mouse, Skinny and Tommy Boy, Skinny living up to his name being a tall slender white furred greyhound. His long dark wild hair held at bay by a bright red bandana, despite being in doors he also opted to wear a pair of ridiculous pilots sunglasses for some reason. Tommy appeared to be a young shy grey mouse, almost too young to be in such a place in fact, half the height of Skinny and barely able to make eye contact with either Marty or Rosalind.

"Wait...should that kid even be in here?" Marty asked, nodding back at the mouse.

"Oh trust me, he ain't no kid. Don't let that shy act fool you..." Monroe sneered with a wink back at the blushing mouse.

The last three members of the gang were the most worrying for Marty, they looked like the actual criminal muscle of the group, the ones not afraid to get their hands dirty. Leaning against the bar was a tatted up horse flanked on either side by an identical pit bull wearing wife beaters. The twins also bore tattoos, only theirs were not the stylized fashion type, their tats showed they had spent time inside some really bad places. Across the horses chest was what she'd initially thought to be his favourite brand of motorcycle, but actually turned out to be his name. Harley was a large mean looking mustang, pale brown coat with a white bridge to his snout and matching white "gloves" almost to his elbows. Small tattoos along his upper cheek just below his eye, similar themed marks on his upper hands and across his knuckles. Likewise the twin pit bulls showed off their ink without shame, all three staring at the two helpless women now in their clutches. Marty tried to read their eyes, but they too showed no emotion, nothing but a cold calculating stare was returned that sent shivers down Marty and Rosalind's spines alike. Rosalind had dealt with such people before in her line of work, knowing full well they were not to be messed with, Marty's request to keep her job a secret suddenly seemed like an exceptionally good idea.

"Strip!" came Monroe's order, snapping both Marty and Rosalind to attention. The pair of Dobermans shared a brief look before resigning themselves to their fate and began to strip as commanded. While Marty simply shrugged off her clothing and let it fall into a pile on the floor around her before scooping it up and placing it on a nearby table, Rosalind would be more methodical and fold each item as she removed it, setting her clothing in a neat pile beside Marty's. Despite the years, both women were still in rather good shape, a fact not lost on the group surrounding them and now eagerly eyeing them up.

"Not bad, if not for the hair, you two could almost be twins" Monroe stated.

"We're cousins, not the kissing kind either, so don't get any ideas about that..." Marty replied with a low growl before she caught herself.

"Oh no worry about that, the only pussy you're going to eat today is mine...and Cheech, if she wants. Cheech?" Monroe turned briefly to look at the feline beside her.

"I want that bitch, she looks like my type, bet she has a killer tongue and knows how to use it too" the feline finally cracked a smile as she spoke, pointing at Rosalind.

"What's the matter ladies, never tasted cunt before?" Monroe snickered after seeing the unsure look on Marty and Rosalind's faces. "Don't worry, we'll fix that right quick for you, won't we Cheech?"

"Damn straight!" the feline agreed with a lusty leer at Rosalind, already starting to remove her own pants before taking up a seat on a barstool and leaning her elbows back against it. Her feet resting on the metal ring footrest closer to the base and allowing her to part her thighs, baring her nethers for the reluctant Rosalind. Monroe adopting much the same position beside Cheech, only she had the audacity to click her fingers and point at the spot between her thighs for Marty to kneel like a trained mutt.

With her hackles bristling, Marty did as told, moving over to kneel between the ewe's thighs and with a resigned sigh reached her tongue out to draw the broad of it up along the ewe's slit. A soft yelp came from beside her when Cheech roughly gripped Rosalind by the hair to grind her muzzle between toned orange and white thighs with a little mocking laugh.

"You really haven't done this before, have you pup? I think even Tommy is better at this than you" Cheech teased, winking at the young mouse suddenly blushing bright pink when Skinny turned to look at him with raised brows.

As Marty knelt between Monroe's thighs to begin diligently lapping and kissing at her sex, trying to follow her demands as closely as possible, she felt a large presence behind her. Gus had wandered on over from behind the bar, snagging one of their beers from their table along the way as he stared down at the two presented black and tan rears while they serviced the ewe and feline alike.

"Mind if I have a crack at one of 'em?" Gus eventually asked as he drained the last of the beer from the bottle.

"Only if you settle my bar tab..." Monroe offered with a hopeful grin, the wild boar taking a moment to think it over while he reached down to palm at Marty's behind as if testing a ripe fruit at the market.

"Tough choice for sure, you drink like a sailor...but hell, looking at this ass I think we can call it even" Gus finally agreed with a wink before dropping to his knees behind Marty. His thick fingers brushed between her thighs, tracing over her bare and vulnerable slit briefly before vanishing, only to come down with a firm crack against her ass, making her yelp in surprise and receiving laughter from everyone around her as a result. Gus worked his zipper down before fishing his short but thick cock out, rubbing the broad blunt tip against Marty's cunt to find her opening, despite her displeased whines against Monroe's pussy.

Gus was no spring chicken and had had his fair share of women in the past, so he didn't take long to find what he was looking for before he thrust into Marty, making her grunt against Monroe's cunt at being so suddenly filled and stretched by the girthy member. As soon as his hips met her ass, the old wild boar wasted little time before he began bucking and rutting her like a seasoned sow. Marty growling at how his thickness stretched her almost uncomfortably so, but soon she was to find that was the least of her worries as Gus suddenly stopped his fucking of her cunt. Marty's clipped ears laid back flat as she felt something cold and hard being pressed in under her tail, nudging insistently at her exposed tail hole as the boar grinned while he gently worked the neck of his beer bottle into her ass to start fucking her with it.

"You dirty old pervert, did you really just stick your beer bottle in this bitch's ass?" Monroe asked with a laugh of disbelief.

"Hell yeah! It always makes them clench tighter on my cock" Gus replied with a laugh, already panting heavily as Marty was indeed clenching down tighter around his shaft every time he played with the bottle under her tail. Thankfully with a combination of being advanced in years along with being out of shape, the flexing and squeezing cunt of a hot piece of ass such as Marty would do the old hog in and with a rough snort he hunched over her back, hips jerking against her ass a few times before he unloaded the first deposit of hot sticky mess inside Marty. The bottle clinking noisily to the floor now free of the tight Doberman asshole it'd been fucking. Panting like he'd just run a mile, Gus withdrew from a growling Dobermans cunt, giving her behind another swat of appreciation before wiping his brow and tucking his softening cock back inside his pants. "Phew, thanks Monroe...I could use another beer after that!"

While Marty was being double teamed by Monroe and Gus, Rosalind found herself being taught how to properly eat pussy by Cheech. The feline gripping her by the hair and ears, directing her tongue and lips where she wanted until Rosalind begrudgingly got rather proficient at it and didn't need much guidance. As she dutifully tongue fucked the feline, the young ebony wolfess had wandered over to kneel behind the Doberman, eyeing her posterior with malicious intent.

"Nice tattoo..." Wylde almost purred, fingers tracing the outline of the handprint mark on Rosalind's behind before giving it a firm swat. Rosalind's cheeks burned with indignation and a little something else, remembering when she'd gotten that damned tattoo. If anyone looked any closer at it, they'd realize it was the exact size of Marty's hand, after having lost a bet to her cousin, she'd gotten it done as a constant reminder of how Marty had "Beat her ass!" as she so graciously reminded her cousin every chance she got. Rosalind was suddenly snapped back to the present as she felt soft hands caressing and spreading her cheeks with a firm grip, warm breath tickling dangerously close against her nethers before a soft broad tongue licked up the cleft of her rear to brush over and around her tight little opening beneath her docked tail. The Doberman screwed her eyes shut tight, trying not to let her body respond to the sensation, but the wolfess kept at it, licking again and then again until finally Rosalind caved and groaned deeply between the felines thighs.

"Oh she really likes that, her tongue is going crazy, keep that up Wylde!" Cheech mockingly said at the sensation of the canine's lips and tongue vibrating with the deep groan. At least this moment of embarrassment would have some sort of payoff for Rosalind as Wylde kept her groaning against the felines cunt, Cheech began to pant and squirm against her muzzle until a low mrowl poured from her lips as she came hard, coating Rosalind's muzzle with her hot, slick femcum. Cheech unceremoniously pushed Rosalind's head back and away from her cunt, smirking down at the mutt while she put her pants back on and headed out through the back door for a smoke. Rosalind following the feline with her eyes, a slight feeling of annoyance and oddly disbelief that the feline would just discard her like that after what Rosalind had just done to and for her.

As Rosalind stared at the now empty doorway where Cheech had exited from, a large presence crept over upon her, looming ominously above her. Slowly turning around, she was met by the sight of the large ebony wolf with the red markings, his gaze hard and almost threatening as he scowled down at her. Only the sound of a zipper being undone snapping her gaze away from his intense glare, her eyes lowering down over his toned chest and chiselled abs to finally meet his large hands while he undid his pants to reveal his cock. "Fuck me" Rosalind whined internally as she stared at the thick slab of onyx meat, at any other time she'd be drooling over a specimen like this wolf. Without a word the large wolf shuffled back a few steps to sit down on one of the sturdier looking chairs, as he took a seat he nodded once at Rosalind and again at his lap, a simple gesture for her to mount him. Something about the way he stared at her, not needing to say a word as she felt herself being drawn to him, soon finding herself climbing up into his lap rather willingly before she sunk herself down onto his cock with a lewd groan. Still her eyes couldn't leave his unwavering gaze, even when his strong hands gripped about her waist and he began to almost bounce her on his dick like she weighed nothing. It was all the Doberman could do not to cry or groan out as his thickness almost rearranged her guts, stretching her wonderfully so and filling her just perfectly. Unfortunately that wouldn't last too long as he suddenly stopped, his arms wrapping about her shoulders to pull her in against his chest as he slowly rolled his hips to lightly buck up into her. At first Rosalind was confused by the seemingly tender embrace, but the real reason soon became clear when she felt Wylde move up behind her, a curiously realistic hot hardness pressing under her tail. As Rosalind looked around at the grinning faces around her, she suddenly knew why, the young wolfess was packing more than just a decent rack inside her skin-tight suit, she was an honest to God real herm and was currently sinking her thankfully smaller but still decently sized dick under the surprised Doberman's tail. The delightfully full feeling became an intense pressure as she found herself sheathed on two substantial cocks at the same time.

Rosalind's surprised whimpering from being double stuffed was suddenly blocked out by a different cry of pleasure. Monroe bleated loudly as she finally hit her own climax, much the same as Cheech before her had done to the other Doberman, so too would the ewe mark Marty's face and muzzle. Her strong thighs clamping down about Marty's head and ears as she bucked and ground against her, shuddering softly before finally coming down and releasing the canines head. Turning to look over at Bucky with a satisfied pant, the sheep beckoned him over along with Skinny while she firmly shoved Marty back onto her ass on the floor, letting them have their turn with her. Bucky wasted no time as he reached down to grip the canine under the arms and hoist Marty up onto a table, laying her down on her back with her rump just a little over the edge before he lifted her legs over his shoulders. To Marty's surprise, she found he was surprisingly hung for his size, as thick as Gus before, but longer. His first thrust into her making her yelp as he stretched her anew almost, his strong hands gripping tightly about her thighs as he began to show her just what good a rabbits strong hips and thighs were made for. His hips slapping against her rump and the backs of her thighs as he started going to town hammering her pussy fast and hard, bringing back memories of her own friends sharing her like this not that long ago. True to form, Skinny appeared at her head, grinning down at her as he peered at her from over the rim of his sunglasses, his fingers brushed back along her muzzle before he forced his thumb into the corner of her lips and just behind her teeth to force her jaw open. Unable to speak, Marty found her mouth suddenly stuffed full of Greyhound cock, the slender white mutt above her holding her jaws open as he thrust into her maw, enjoying the feeling of her tongue trying to push him out. Soon the pair of rabbit and canine had a rhythm going, rocking Marty between their forms as they thrust in and out of her, the scent of the canine unescapable as his balls continually tapped against her sensitive nose again and again. Just as she thought this was as bad as it could get, a sudden weight climbed up onto the table as someone else straddled her chest. Soft hands began caressing her breasts, gently kneading and squeezing at them with obvious inexperience before she felt them being pressed in around a long thick cock that quickly started to fuck her tits zealously.

"Atta boy Tommy! Show that bitch who's boss!" Monroe cheered Tommy on, Marty balking as she realized why the weight was so slight atop her, the small mouse was straddling her chest while fucking her tits and from what she felt between her breasts, he was anything but small where it counted. What Monroe had said about him earlier suddenly made sense, he was anything but a kid.

Somewhere during Marty being hoisted up onto the table and spit roasted, Rosalind found herself laying impaled on a thick cock, atop Grimm on the floor, staring down into his now calm and soothing eyes. Somewhat thankful for the effect his gaze had on her while she still also had Wylde eagerly pounding her butt from behind. The wolfess huffed and growled, gripping Rosalind's waist tight, claws digging in against her flesh as Wylde's hips constantly slapped against her firm toned behind. Her gaze was regretfully lifted from the large wolf's soothing one to instead meet the piercing stare of Harley as he firmly gripped her muzzle and roughly forced her jaws open before Rosalind could utter a word to him. The stallion snorting and glared at her, leaving no uncertainty to what'd happen to her if she didn't obey as he freed his own thick mottled pink and black cock to sheath himself in her muzzle and down her throat in one quick motion. Rosalind nearly gagged at his length as he shoved himself into her with one rough thrust, the horse clearly didn't care about her comfort or need to breathe as began face fucking her, his heavy balls slapping against her chin while she choked and sputtered around his length. Despite herself and the terrible circumstances she found herself in, her body was reacting to being under the control of so many other people at once, sparking desires she wasn't fully aware she had. She felt it starting to grow inside herself the moment Wylde had mounted her from behind, but as the three people now fucking her just continued to use her as their own personal fucktoy, Rosalind climaxed long and hard from the rough treatment as it hit on her no longer hidden submissive streak. As the Doberman growled and whined, her body twitching and shuddering through her climax, squeezing and clenching down tighter than ever before around Grimm and Wylde respectively, the pair of wolves too would hit their peak and climax almost in unison inside the Doberman bitch. Harley smirked as he watched the fiasco, feeling Rosalind struggle and choke around his cock even harder as she gasped for air through her climax, mercifully it became too much for him too. With a loud snort the horse gripped the back of her head, forcing her nose down against his crotch as he unloaded deep down her throat until she was pounding on his hips for air. With a sneer Harley made her swallow most of his load before he finally relented and pulled out of her maw, only to mark her face with the last few smaller drippings of his cum. Her cheeks and forehead baring obvious white streaks of thick horse semen.

Marty wouldn't fare too much better as the three members using her watched what was happening to Rosalind, helping bring them to their finish. Tommy was the first to finish as he groaned loud, pinching Marty's nipples roughly and making her yelp around Skinny's cock still in her maw, the mouse's hot seed spattering in the valley of her cleavage and pooling in the little indent at her throat before he climbed off her on shaky legs. Bucky followed not long after, giving a few short and sharp thrusts into Marty, hard enough that his hips left a faint pink hew beneath the black and tan of her rear before he pulled out of her. Releasing her thighs and letting them fall either side of his hips while he gripped and stroked his cock to the finish, firing almost graceful arcs of off white seed through the air to mark her inner thighs and lower belly with further mess. As Marty felt more and more cum on her body, she instinctively began to growl, making Skinny groan in surprise as he ground deeply into her maw, rather enjoying the added vibrations. With a few shorter and quicker thrusts, he too followed suit, pulling from a still growling Marty's muzzle and began stroking his cock while aiming right at her. "Fuck..." Marty managed to say before the first shot hit her square between the eyes, soon the remainder of the Greyhounds seed would be smeared and rubbed all over her face and cheeks, making her fur stick up at odd angles, it was painfully obvious what was in her coat to cause that.

"Alright boys, time for the finale!" Monroe grinned at the two pit bulls waiting eagerly for their turn. Each mutt gripped Marty and Rosalind by the scruff and an arm twisted up painfully behind their backs, almost up between their shoulders, as they forced them up against the bar. Monroe watched with glee as the twins guided their thick eager red cocks under the docked Doberman tails, grinding between their firm round buttocks before finding their intended targets. With little care for either Marty or Rosalind, in sick synchronicity they sheathed themselves within the tight clenching tail holes of the pinned women.

Marty whined and squirmed as the mutt under her tail began to buck and hammer at her rear, his hips slapping against her behind with staccato slaps of flesh against flesh. Turning to look over at Rosalind, feeling guilty for putting her in this position, she was surprised to find a curiously almost ecstatic look on her cousin's face. Almost like she was enjoying having the rough pit bull stuffing her rump, perhaps her cousin wasn't as much of an angel as she'd originally thought. As Marty growled and hissed in discomfort from the rough and eager thrusts, Rosalind seemed to be fighting the urge to groan out aloud. The constant slapping of hips to pert behinds filling the bar as the rest of the gang watched the pair of Doberman bitches being reamed hard and fast, hips pinned against the bar with no escape, they had no choice but to bare the intense fucking.

Just as Marty began thinking the rough fucking couldn't get any worse, the pit bull behind her proved her wrong as he snarled into her ear before biting at the nape of her neck. His hips pressed flush against her behind as he ground his thick knot against her already stretched little opening, Marty whimpering and trying to shake her head "No!" but he wouldn't listen. With a yelp his thick knot eventually popped inside her, another yelp beside her alerted Marty to the fact that Rosalind had experienced the same fate.

"Well ladies, having strangers wander uninvited into our bar is a pain in the ass, so it's only fair that we're a pain in yours. Have you learned your lesson about coming into our turf?" Monroe sneered at the two grimacing Doberman woman, standing on the far side of the bar and leaning against it with her elbows on the counter and her chin resting in her interlaced fingers.

"Ow, Fuck!...yes!" Marty almost shouted as the knot under her tail received a little tug when she didn't answer straight away.

"Good girls, now get dressed and get the fuck out of my sight" the ewe said softly before nodding at the two large pit bulls.

"Oh shiiiit!" Marty realized too late what they were going to do, the still inflated knot tugging back against her clenching pucker before it finally popped free, making her yelp and whine loudly again. Even Rosalind didn't seem to enjoy the act either, her jaws clenched and eyes screwed shut so tight there were tears forming. But at least it was finally over, Marty stood up as straight as she could manage, trying to walk as naturally as possible while she collected their clothing and got dressed as fast as possible while beneath her tail ached and throbbed with every movement she made.

As Rosalind and Marty finally returned to the rental car after getting hastily dressed, both canines winced and shifted uncomfortably in their seats as they sat down. After their day the remainder of the car ride home would be a little tender on their behinds.

"Things like that happen often around here?" Rosalind asked as she started the car and began backing out of the parking. Her nose wrinkling at the scent of various different males on her, feeling like a glazed confection and in desperate need of a shower.

"Lately...more often than you'd think" Marty replied honestly with a sigh, slouching down in her seat and reclining it to lay down as best as possible. Unlike Rosalind, she wasn't a stranger to this feeling anymore, not that it made it any easier to bare. "Wait until you meet my crew..."