FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

Freyja tugged against her leash and coaxed her master along. Her master always wondered who walked who, sometimes aloud and with a laugh. Freyja loved to walk on her leash. Being off of it at the park was the best thing ever, but everywhere else, she could deal with it just to walk mostly free. There were so many things to sniff, other dogs to yap at, and outstretched paws to sweetly lick. Maybe Freyja was a little excitable and her tail liked to knock things over, but everybody she met called her a good dog. She got treats and chin rubs and sometimes, when she really trusted and liked someone, she permitted belly rubs.

Two years old and very energetic, Freyja was just the perfect size and shape for her German Shepherd breed. Every day she was a friendly and intelligent girl - except for when she started to feel unusual and her master kept her locked up away from the boys. That was when she felt so needful for something she couldn't quite understand. Master had broken his personal rule of keeping Freyja cooped up in heat this time, however.

The day was a happy one. Lots of dogs feared and hated the vet but Freyja barked and wagged happily at the sight of the place. Everyone inside knew her name and they always came to her with treats and rubs. Everybody at the vet knew she was a good dog and she wouldn't let anybody forget it.

Freyja's master, himself a German Shepherd on two legs, had a talk with the veterinarian She didn't understand a word of it except for her name, which she stopped perking her ears to after the third repetition. Their conversation failed to interest her until her master knelt down and rubbed up under her chin and along her neck just how she really liked it. She licked his cheek and he smooched her between the eyes.

"Daddy's gotta leave you here overnight," he said in that patient tone reserved for small children. "You need to be good for the doctors here, okay?"

The words went over Freyja's head but the tone appealed to her. She licked him again and then, when he hugged her, she pressed against him and wagged her tail. "You be a good girl," he smiled. He watched the techs walk her back. She went along with them trustingly, never looking back at her master.

One of the techs whom led Freyja to the back room and helped in lifting her onto the examination table was a new face. She had seen all of the others before. Being a curious girl, she doted on him with licks and nuzzles as he tried to listen to her heart and lungs. He was a fox-mix with a big, bushy, stripey tail and very long hair. Freyja liked to nip at it when she could.

"Aren't you just a playful thing. Looks like you're pure-bred too," he said with a smile and a rub behind her ear.

"According to her sheet, yeah. She's pure-bred with papers and everything. Someone paid a pretty penny for this girl," one of the other techs remarked, a girl herself and a cat - but Freyja didn't have any problems with her. "I need to go make my rounds. Can you take care of things here, Desmond?"

A quick beat broke up the conversation before Desmond brushed his paw down Freyja's flank. He said, "Sure thing."

Freyja watched the cat go before she turned her innocent eyes up on Desmond. His paw was drifting down her body into the crook of her leg and her flank. With a languid snuffle, she rolled onto her side, mindful of the edge of the table. Desmond rubbed her belly with his soft pads until her leg started to twitch and then he brushed his fingers over her swollen, black vulva. Freyja hardly registered the touch until he did it again and much more insistently. Her tail slowed to a stop and she peered up at his stone face with splayed-down ears.

Footsteps approached. Desmond withdrew his paw and began to smoothly write of Freyja's good health on the clipboard. In came the lead veterinarian with whom Freyja was much more comfortable.

--2

What came and went for the dog then was a benign night up to and including her anesthesia and a procedure so minor as to require no stitches or bandages. Freyja came to in a roomy kennel padded with towels and furnished with a bowl of lukewarm water. She sniffed the water and elected not to drink from a bowl that smelled so unfamiliar. For a time she peered through the metal slats in her kennel, watching and waiting for her master. She waited for most of an hour, becoming increasingly dejected. That she was fatigued due to her surgery was beyond her. In time, she went back to sleep.

A short time later, Desmond awoke her when he opened her cage. Freyja had forgiven and forgotten the molestation. She stretched, yawned, and then came out to greet him with a wagging tail.

Desmond smiled and rubbed her chin. "You're a good girl, huh? Are you ready to go home?"

The words were meaningless to Freyja but she loved the tone he used. She barked and pranced until Desmond laughed and started to shush her.

"Calm down, calm down. I'm gonna take you home now," he said reassuringly. Desmond clasped a leash onto her pretty purple collar, right next to her jingling tags. One was a distemper tag. The other, which was bone shaped and shiny silver, said Freyja on one side and had her master's phone number on the reverse.

The foxcoon led Freyja out the back of the kennel room into a starkly unfinished utility hall, this coming into sharp contrast with the bright friendliness of the rest of the office. They passed another tech whom Freyja tried to sniff, but they ignored her and Desmond as they walked by. Through the rear delivery door and into the back lot now, and Freyja found herself in an unfamiliar place. It was the dead of night, quite chilly, and master was nowhere to be seen. Freyja tried to drag Desmond around to search for her master but he wrangled her to the cars, but he made a concession so she could pee on the grass.

Freyja looked for her master's car. She didn't know the color but she knew the shape and smell, but it was nowhere to be seen. Desmond unlocked his own car and nudged her up into the back seat. Freyja growled and resisted, but she ultimately did what she was told. She was a good dog, and good dogs didn't bite or pull away.

Typically, Freyja loved car rides. Her master would let her sit in the front seat with the window down enough for her to stick her nose out. Desmond put her in the back seat where it smelled of so many other dogs, and he wouldn't open the window for her. Sad and homesick, she lay upon the seat and huffed.

Freyja had gone on enough rides to know that when the engine stopped, it was time to get out. When she noticed as much, she sat up excitedly and looked all through the windows, but this was a very unfamiliar, wooded place. Master lived in an apartment with friendly neighbors. Desmond lived in the woods in a small manor.

As soon as she passed the front door, Freyja noticed the smell of other dogs. Her master's scent was nowhere to be found but she wasn't about to give up on it. She sniffed all around, oblivious of the futility and clinging to the hope that he was somewhere around there, just waiting for her to find him.

"What the hell are you looking for?" Desmond asked, his tone far removed from his sweet banality at the vet. "Your daddy's not here. Best he's gonna find of you," he sneered as he cruelly yanked her collar off over her ears, "is this, with a little blood on it. 'Sorry, your dog got loose. She's wrapped around a semi truck axle somewhere.'"

Freyja didn't like the evil tone but she liked even less having her collar off. The way it hugged her neck and how its tags jingled were so familiar that she forgot about them; but having it all gone suddenly was jarring and it added to her anxiety. Whining, she stood on her hind legs up at Desmond, doing her best to bite at her collar. Desmond scowled and held it up high, and with his free paw he shoved her down.

"Bad, no jumping," he snapped. Freyja seemed to consider, and then she slumped on the floor and sighed dejectedly. Desmond didn't let her lie for long. He tossed her collar onto the kitchen table and nudged her with a foot. "Up. C'mon, this way," he urged, pushing and bumping Freyja when she halted and growled.

The basement stairs were troublesome for Freyja with Desmond right on her tail but she made it down into the darkness without slipping or stumbling. With a careful gait, she began to sniff warily in the gloom. Desmond flicked the lights on to reveal a mild dungeon of a few kennel cages in the corner all bolted to the floor. He had a few tripods in another corner, and an old medicine cabinet on the wall which no longer held anything merciful.

Freyja smelled a lot of dried-up piss in the concrete and, though she didn't know what it was, long-dried cum too. To her keen nose, the floor told all kinds of sordid tales. When Desmond stuck a child gate at the bottom of the stairs and slowly, menacingly followed Freyja until she cornered herself, it became clear that she was about to be one more story.

"You know, when I take dogs like you? I wish I could tell their owners, if you'd just had her fixed, she'd still be with you," Desmond waxed to Freyja as he rubbed her hindquarters, coming close to her muff a few times. "Look at you, just look at how young and healthy you are," he sighed. An erection was bulging in his plain black slacks like all the techs wore. "I'm gonna make a lot of money off of you, bitch."

Just talking and rubbing was something Freyja could deal with. That was close to how her master cuddled her sometimes. He liked to talk to her because nobody else listened quite as well. Freyja never knew what he said and she didn't know what Desmond was saying, either.

"Why, just one German Shepherd puppy... I'm gonna be living large once I get a few litters out of you," the foxcoon chuckled with a big, sleazy grin. With his free paw, he tweaked his erection through his clothes, but that modesty was for nothing when he upended Freyja and spread open her plush pussy. Her triangular slit revealed pink, virgin flesh which he immediately penetrated with a finger. Freyja whimpered and bucked but didn't bite. She was too scared and homesick for that. Good dogs didn't bite or pull away.

Desmond dug in deep with his finger, stretching her open and working it in. Moisture from her pussy kept him mostly slick yet his fur did drag against her walls. As he pumped her, he rubbed the outer flesh of her dark vulva with his pads. That he did so more for his own entertainment than for her sake was implicit in his filthy grin and the tent in his pants.

All throughout this startling new abuse, Freyja cowered in silence, but even as good of a girl as she was, it was difficult to keep from resisting Desmond. She didn't dare bite him but she kicked at him with her hind legs. The kicks were feeble as was the will behind them and Desmond suitably ignored them for one reason or another.

With the addition of a second finger to her virgin cunt, Freyja missed her master more than ever. Whatever Desmond was doing seemed like something that was supposed to be affectionate but she hated it. Her canine brain knew it had to do with breeding and that she should probably take it, but Freyja was too much a daddy's girl sheltered from horny boys to accept being violated.

Exhibiting the callousness of a criminal of his type, Desmond ignored Freyja's ongoing squirming and her subtle cries. He pulled his fingers out of her cunt, sniffed them to peruse the dog's scent, and promptly opened his fly. The basement was cold but Desmond didn't care when his bare knees pressed against it. Something special awaited to warm him up.

Freyja watched Desmond undress with a misplaced hint of playful curiosity. Loose clothes were fun to drag around the house. Master had played many a tongue-in-cheek game of tug 'o war over ratty shirts and socks but all of her playful urges withered when she saw Desmond's penis. The few times she had seen master's had been accidents, and innocuous situations regardless. She had instinctively recognized its knotted shape despite her inexperience. Desmond's looked nothing like that. It had no sheath and its tip was blunt and just exposed by some taut foreskin. She didn't like the look of it at all.

She liked Desmond's penis so little that when he first grabbed her hind legs and bumped it against her pussy, she snarled and bucked. Something snapped inside of her only to be quickly beaten into submission when Desmond backhanded her across the snout. He grazed his bony paw on her teeth and opened a gash but it seemed to hurt Freyja more.

Despite Freyja's immediate cowering and quaking, Desmond took no chances. Across the room to the old medicine cabinet he went, and he returned with a strong leather muzzle. It smelled strongly of many other dogs and Desmond made things worse when he affixed it too tightly to Freyja's snout. She whined and pawed at it, but as has been the case that night, nothing went well for her.

"Fucking bitch, you don't need teeth to make puppies," he snorted, pausing to lick his wound with a hiss. Once again he gripped a hind leg in one paw and his cock in the other. Even having been fingered, Freyja's virgin muff was ill-prepared to be taken. Despite his attitude, Desmond was gentle as he pressed his blunt meat into her though this was of no relief to the dog. The foxcoon's cock was modest, certainly no bigger than what a boy dog of her size would have sported, but the shape was all wrong and the misuse was apparent even to a dumb dog.

Freyja bucked with her free leg but her paw only bumped Desmond's chest without harm. He unhanded his penis, its flesh by then half-buried so that he could grip her other leg. Holding onto both hind legs and steadily sinking in to the hilt, Desmond wore his filthy grin again. Freyja whined meekly in the muzzle. Her ears splayed down flat and her tail tried to tuck, but it only brushed Desmond's balls instead.

Finally the alien shape of Desmond's male flesh bottomed out in the dog. Her abused vulva pressed against his loins and her flag of a tail curled up around his rear submissively. Just the violation of having him inside of her like so was painful and terrifying. He started to pull back and the only thing on her simple mind was relief from the pain. Sometimes when she had been a puppy, her master would swat her on the rear or pinch her nose when she misbehaved. It always hurt, but it ended quickly. Nothing about this pain was quick and she had no clue what she'd done wrong.

Desmond stopped before he left her young, virgin cunt only to grind his cock back inside. Freyja brayed with a whimper and bucked her hips, but she only expedited the penetration and Desmond found himself buried in her snatch again.

With a heinous smirk, Desmond eased it back and more forcefully bucked it back in. Freyja writhed and whimpered incessantly. "Like being bred, huh? You're eager as fuck, I can tell that," he huffed. "I read online somewhere that dogs don't really enjoy sex... Bullshit, you're a little slut, so give it up," he panted as he hastened the rape. He released Freyja's squirming hind legs to pet her belly and tweak her obscured nipples. Freyja found the that the touch tickled her and she clenched involuntary to the tune of a warbling cry. Desmond moaned at the feeling.

"Ah, gawd," he grunted, giving it to Freyja with tight, efficient bucks. The evil fox leaned between her brainlessly thrashing hind legs. Nose to nose with the muzzled bitch, he saw the fear in her eyes and recognized it well. Said fear was almost palpable as he licked her sticky black lips. Freyja had no recourse but to grumble at his closeness. Desmond shushed her, bucking in harder and faster with every second which passed. "I'm about to cum, little girl, I have what you're crying for..."

That Desmond was disillusioned or evil were not mutually exclusive but none of it mattered to Freyja. Dogs may not have had consciousness in the ways more developed creatures like Desmond did, but she knew how badly she hurt and that this was not her home. Nothing was right about this place and she could smell the despair in the basement. With each ruthless hump, Desmond reamed her hitherto untouched pussy which was pliable enough not to bleed but the stretch was so painful that she resisted until the very end. There was no way for Freyja to know that her thrashing and crying made it better for Desmond. Ordinarily she could notice correlation but not under such duress, and so her thrashing continued even as Desmond brayed like more of an animal than she was.

At last Desmond came and he spilled incompatible semen into Freyja's abused loins. Through his climax and with even more horrible ferocity, he bucked. As the pleasure came to a head, so did his thrusts crescendo when his male flesh was at last painfully sensitive in release. Quivering in pleasure, he bottomed out in Freyja one more time for good measure and came to rest on his elbows over her.

Not an ounce of defiance remained in Freyja. Her forelegs awkwardly folded against Desmond's shoulders and she tremored with countless fearful doggy notions. Dogs being dogs, she longed for the pain to stop most of all. To lick master's face again was somewhere in there too, hidden under the pain and the primal fear.

Desmond kissed Freyja's nose and throttled her air until she thrashed. Reprimanding her would have taken too much energy just then. Instead he pushed off of her to kneel and peered down at his cock still buried in her little black vulva. He delicately rubbed the edges of it, squeezing and tweaking it where he saw fit. Molesting her put a grin on his face.

"God, the last time I had a German Shepherd bitch, I made a fucking killing on her puppies," Desmond bantered as he pulled his softening meat free of the bitch. True to her age, her pussy seemed not to gape. Desmond carefully opened her folds with his fingers and he examined the pinkness within. All Freyja could think to do was lie still as a good dog would.

While he watched his discarded spunk drool from Freyja's cunt, Desmond chuckled, "I think you're gonna like the boys, honestly. Nice, big knots on 'em. Real pigs, too," he said wistfully. "I didn't think I'd ever be able to walk again after I let Oscar mount up."

Freyja listened stupidly. Staring plaintively into Desmond's eyes, she gave the impression of comprehension.

With a sleazy smile crossing his face, Desmond leaned down and kissed Freyja's mound. The kiss led to him swabbing his tongue deep inside of her and he scooped out much of his seed, but he left just as much inside of her. "Tasty little thing," he murmured just as he began to fondle her thighs. His fingers brushed her cunt all over again. "I've got another surprise for you, little girl. We'll save it for after we get those buns in the oven, though," he winked.

Finally Desmond put his pants back on and Freyja's relief was palpable. She rolled over onto her belly again but she stayed in the corner even as Desmond wandered off elsewhere in the basement. For a time she merely pawed at the muzzle and lamented what a bad dog she must have been to deserve this mess, but the sound of kibble hitting a bowl perked her ears and whetted her appetite.

Minutes passed as Freyja waited to see Desmond again. When he didn't show, she rose to shaky legs and treaded carefully while her swollen vulva dribbled with every few steps. Around the corner and under the stairs, Freyja saw a bowl of nondescript kibble and another of clean water. Seeing the meal laid out for her made Freyja aware of her needs. So much terror and stress took a toll on her and she hadn't been allowed to eat or drink a thing before her trip to the vet.

"I figured the sound of food might bring you over here," Desmond sneered. "You greedy little whore. Let's get that muzzle off. You'd better keep your teeth to yourself." Freyja did just that, especially when she guiltily sniffed the gash Desmond had put in his own paw. Interested chiefly in food, she took to the kibble and munched it down despite how unfamiliar it was. She paused to messily gulp down the water and went right back to the kibble. Desmond watched all of this with a sneer and he set the child gate aside when Freyja's meal was through.

"Come on, bitch. You can come upstairs," Desmond said with no kindness in his voice. Freyja had no love for her surroundings and she followed Desmond without balking, never deviating from the path he led her on. Up the stairs and into Desmond's room they went and when Freyja first saw Desmond's spacious and well-made bed, she padded up to it, lay her chin on the sheets and whined longingly.

Desmond set up another child gate in the doorway before he took to his bed. He stared at Freyja's pitiful eyes while a smirk crept across his muzzle. "I only let girls in my bed if they put out, so I guess you can come on up." Her ears perked. Desmond more earnestly beckoned her and Freyja bounded up and neatly curled up near the foot of the bed.

Nothing about the house was right but compared to the basement, Desmond's bedroom was doggy paradise. A moment later Desmond lay a paw on her flank and she huffed but kept still. Even as his padded fingers traced down her belly and brushed her aching vulva, Freyja was a good girl.

The foxcoon reached into his pocket for his phone and he picked a contact without taking his mitt off of the dog. Freyja listened to his one-sided conversation with no comprehension but a growing familiarity with his voice. While he went on and on into the phone, he idly molested her and smeared around a bead of his semen dredged up by his fingering.

After a few minutes Desmond was off the phone. He mischievously said to Freyja, "Looks like you've got a date tomorrow. Got some other doggies for you to play with." Freyja perked her ears at the word play, but Desmond didn't follow through in the manner she hoped for, and she soon resigned herself to a depressed sprawl on the bed.

The thought occurred to Desmond to have the bitch again but he thought more and more that Freyja might just be the one to settle down with. Her temperament was too good to ignore, and her body was flawless and well-exercised. As he curled up in bed in just his briefs and turned the light off, Desmond formally made his decision: He would keep Freyja. There was no need to use her up all at once.

--3

Freyja awoke when the sun filtered in around Desmond's blackout curtains. It was in her blood to be up with the sun. She sat up, stretched out, and yawned with a whine at the tail-end of it. The foxcoon was nowhere to be seen and neither was his child gate. Freyja being a precocious and personable thing even given the circumstances, she trotted downstairs but crept around every corner as if expecting a monster in each room. When she saw Desmond in the kitchen with another fellow, this one a wolf, she flinched out of sight but made her appearance when Desmond, having caught sight of her, beckoned her.

"This is the lovely lady, huh?" the wolf asked as Freyja came near. He was slim, but still a bulkier male than Desmond, and his muzzle had a hint of gray lighter than the rest of his gray body. As he ran a paw down Freyja's spine, she huffed yet allowed it. "So everything is in order here?"

Desmond sipped his coffee. "Yeah. I have xeroxes of her papers. Her owner has the masters, but once he gets her bloody collar back, they won't be any use to him," the foxcoon smiled. "Let's start her with Bruno - he's smaller, it might help train her a little bit. I don't think my dick made a difference." After a pause while the wolf benignly petted and rubbed Freyja's back, Desmond added, "Typical deal here. I'll pay you once I sell the pups off. You get a quarter of the profit."

"I almost feel bad," the wolf said with a tiny smile. "Almost." And with a rub under Freyja's chin which she found uncomfortably rough, he stood and trudged out the front door.

The dog stared needfully at Desmond while he sipped his coffee. Though an unscrupulous fellow, Desmond petted Freyja's head and then set down a dish of tap water to drink. When she had her fill of water, he took her for a short walk around his wooded property during which she relieved herself. The walk was pleasant enough that Freyja felt refreshed, and the woods which engulfed Desmond's home were an interesting place to walk so full of unfamiliar smells, but once back in the house she felt a pang of anxiety again.

Freyja's worries worsened when Desmond led her back down into the basement. At first she balked, but Desmond yanked at the choke leash he had put her in. She relented and followed him at the first bite of the leash.

A new smell was in the dimly-lit basement. There was the wolf, but Freyja had already committed him to memory. What she smelled now was another dog. It was a male dog, and the smell of him upset a delicate balance of hormones in her heated body. Whereas the night before she resisted Desmond's efforts to get under her tail, suddenly she found herself flagging that tail right up like a hussy when the boy wasn't even in her sight yet.

Both dogs got a look at each other soon enough. Bruno was a classically beautiful German Shepherd like Freyja herself. He was taller by a few inches and more dense with muscle. A wider stance and a more chunky head made it easy to see the difference in genders. The most obvious indicator was of course his thick, red penis jutting from its sheath. It dribbled pre and left a sticky trail as he paced in the harness which the wolf had leashed him with. When he had a direct line of sight with Freyja, however, he pulled hard enough in her direction that the wolf grunted and had to exert all of his strength.

"Horny sumbitch like always, huh Bruno?" Desmond wistfully laughed. Holding Freyja back was considerably easier, if less humane with the choker.

"Let's hope he doesn't rip her open like he did you," the wolf sneered. "Bring her over here before he breaks my fucking arm."

To be let nearer Bruno, Freyja felt a whirlwind of her simple doggy emotions. Somewhere under them she missed her master more than ever before, but another, more base need came well before any of her fears. To the audible satisfaction of Desmond and the wolf, she whipped around and dropped her front end low while her rear stayed high. Flagged up high was her tail, baring her heated muff to Bruno's hungry eyes and nose.

Bruno's master let the leash go and the dog lunged for his nubile prize. Though he was an often-invoked stud, every lay came down to instinct and sloppiness. He mounted up on Freyja and after a few clumsy grinds, he notched his tip against her triangular entrance. In it went with one sharp buck and Freyja yelped in shock and pain, but so did she grind her rear back sluttily.

In some way, Bruno felt pleasure from the fuck but not as Desmond had in the same situation. He frantically nailed Freyja whom gave it up without the slightest morsel of hesitation. Compared to Desmond's rather leisurely abuse, Bruno was rearing up to cum in what seemed like the blink of an eye. He pounded Freyja harder and harder by the second, his black balls drawing up taut as the sweet, sweet seeding approached. Finally the monstrous bulk of his knot popped past Freyja's multifaceted slit with a tiny, wet noise but a yowling sort of cry from the bitch. Bruno shot his sticky ejaculate into her with a huff which could have passed for satisfaction.

Just as the big dog twisted around and triumphantly stood ass to ass with the only recently-deflowered Freyja, Desmond and the wolf were murmuring in conversation.

"Once we get them apart, do you think we should bring in Oscar in so soon?" the wolf asked, studying Bruno with a much less lustful eye than Desmond.

"I don't think so. Let's give her until tomorrow for that. She and I have some activities planned for tonight anyway."

"Activities, huh," said the wolf dryly. The discussion went no further, and in time, Bruno exited Freyja and snubbed the notion of spending any further time on her. This seemed to sadden Freyja whom tried to follow him as he left with the wolf, but in the end she pressed against Desmond's leg with a huff in her chest and an ache in her loins.

"I'll call you," Desmond said to the wolf in parting. Just like that, he was alone with Freyja again. By then the hour hand on the clock said it was somewhere around noon. Down in the basement it was impossible to tell the time by the light, but thunder rumbled and rain noisily pelted the house, blotting out the sun no matter the hour. It was a suitably dreary backdrop for what was in the dog's future, but Desmond treated her to a kibble meal and more water upstairs.

The day dragged on with a conspicuous lack of sexual abuse, not that Freyja noticed a pattern. Desmond played video games and Freyja laid on the sofa while staring dejectedly out the window at the rain. In times when the weather prevented frisbee or stick fetching, master would play tug-o-war with her favorite rope. Or when she was in heat, such as that particular time, master would always keep her plush animals close by - her makeshift babies. What she didn't realize was that a litter of real ones had been planted in her womb.

Into the evening when the rain had worsened but the thunder had tapered off, Desmond continued to treat Freyja like a queen. He walked her with an umbrella for her sake, and he toweled her off when he brought her in. He made himself dinner and shared scraps with her and in all this time, Freyja had sadly begun to imprint on the foxcoon. As he did everything master would do, he was gradually becoming master. Given the choice between them, she would have ditched Desmond in an instant; but isolated as she was and under his thumb, she made due with what she had.

While he scrubbed the dishes which included a plate Freyja had all but licked clean, Desmond talked in a chipper tone to the girl. That he was spouting utter filth was over her head. "You cute little bitch, you," he sighed. "We're gonna make a movie as soon as I'm done here. We're gonna go downstairs, uh-huh, and I'm fuck you silly for the camera." He brushed his long, bushy tail across her muzzle. Freyja growled and playfully bit at it. "I'm gonna make money off of you twice! Once from selling your pretty little puppies and again when I start getting my contacts their beast smut again. You're gonna be a mommy and and a star," he beamed. Freyja loved his exuberant tone and the baby talk he used with her. She wagged and barked and pranced excitably.

All of that energy vanished when Desmond dragged the girl back down to the basement. She tried to muscle her way up the stairs just when he got the child gate in front of them and then she whimpered dolefully at Desmond. However, she also followed him dutifully to the closet, and she watched curiously as took items from it and filled his arms. He quickly had a camcorder, some kind of leather outfit, and a bedroll.

Over where Desmond had first defiled the bitch, he laid out the bedroll, grabbed one of the tripods and affixed his camcorder to it. Freyja snuffled the dusty, stained bedroll while Desmond peered through his viewfinder and adjusted the angle. That his view fell squarely on Freyja's hindquarters with little adjustment was a good omen. He hastily set up his nearby spotlights which bathed the bedroll in overbearing white light, and then he shucked his clothing with equal haste.

By far the most worrisome of all the effects was the leather. Desmond first bound his tail in what looked like a black straitjacket. It crushed his fur and hid one of his most distinguishable features. Next he slipped on a mask like something a luchador might wear in that his snout was exposed but the rest of his head was not. Even his ears were pinned under it. He tied off his hair into one dense bun hidden under the veil on the back of the mask.

"Action," Desmond lewdly chuckled as he prodded the record button. There he knelt on the bedroll, kneading his swelling penis and beckoning Freyja. For as terrifying as this situation was, she wanted Desmond's affection and approval enough that she padded near him with her head low and her tail tucked.

Desmond ran his paws over Freyja's body as she stood before him. They came nose to nose and she timidly licked his snout. "Good girl," he whispered to her, but it did very little for her nerves. What helped even less was the manner in which he grabbed her and turned her around so that her hindquarters faced him. He grasped her tail and yanked it up high, and then he nudged Freyja until her twat was square in the camera's eye. Everybody who watched would see just how swollen she was, how badly Bruno's knot had abused her heated pussy.

After this glance, Desmond's fingers entered the frame and subsequently Freyja. By that point he was able to push two fingers knuckle-deep without making her flinch and that was promising. Desmond had found through trial and error that most viewers didn't care to see a bitch being raped; but her showing indifference was fine. Skewed morality, Desmond thought, but the money was good and so was Freyja's temperament.

Slowly Desmond pumped the German Shepherd bitch. He parted his fingers and twisted them to optimally spread her passage and his fur was soon damp with her vaginal fluids. Similarly, his cock was fully engorged from the foreplay, and he felt his needs rising. He could always record some more foreplay with the bitch later. Suddenly pressing was the need to have her hard and fast.

Being the good girl she was, Freyja allowed Desmond to put her on her side and then her back. There she lay, peering worrisomely at him down her inverted body. "Good girl, very good," he whispered as he held onto a leg in one paw and his cock in the other. He pumped himself just to test his erection and then he pressed its blunt, bared tip to her entrance. Her flesh parted to permit his and Desmond let out a shuddering groan which was indeed genuine. The camera watched with its unfeeling eye, recording the bestiality in high definition.

As Desmond sank to the hilt of his flesh, Freyja sighed despondently A freak rumble of thunder shook the house but especially down there in the foundation. Freyja paid it no mind. Soon her eyes fell on the blinking red indicator on the camera, and she stared at it listlessly as Desmond briskly fucked her. It was less of an ordeal than the previous night's rape and compared to Bruno with his knot, Desmond's penis was inoffensive. Freyja thought in her dumb way that this was simply part of life now. If it didn't hurt and it endeared her to Desmond, then a good girl she'd continue to be.

Desmond had, of course, an obligation to his publishers. They had requested in their passable English something more unusual than just a vaginal fuck video. Desmond had offered a relatively tame solution; and to his surprise they were elated with the idea. With intent to make good on his suggestion, he eased his cock out of the dog. By then his meat was slick but he still slathered his shaft in sticky, clear lubricant squeezed from a bottle left against the wall.

Freyja watched Desmond curiously, even wagging her tail at the sight of the slippery liquid. As with most every other occasion her curiosity flared up, Freyja soon saw the dark side of what was happening. In this case, it was when Desmond worked two lubed fingers into her anus. She whimpered and tensed, flopped to her side and started to buck away from him, but Desmond brusquely swatted her on the rear and halted her wiggling but not her whimpering.

"Bad! Bad girl!" he snapped. "Fuck, now I gotta edit the fingering out... Fucking bitch," he groaned. "You'd better not fight once I start giving you the dick."

The swat stung, but being called bad hurt Freyja more than anything. From then on she suffered through the fingering as Desmond added more and more lube to his fingers and drove them back in and plucked them out again. She absolutely hated how cold, uncomfortable, and sticky the lube was. She longed to lick herself clean but she stayed perfectly still, and she hoped to be good again.

By the time his fingering was through, Desmond seemed to be in control of himself again. He slathered his penis with lube for a second time and he approached Freyja on her side as she was. While he petted gently along her flank, he gripped his cock and pressed it to her slicked tail hole. In he went with a deep groan, drowning out the dog's subtle whine. He sank in balls-deep and rather quickly, and then just for the hell of it he dropped down onto the bedroll and spooned around her.

Freyja found queer comfort in Desmond's closeness but she could never get over the sodomy. It hurt in a way she had never known in all her life, even more when Desmond began to buck into her. Though he did so smoothly and with a more than ample coating of lube, the stretch agonized her and left her panting desperately for an end to it. All the viewers would think, of course, was how hot and horny Freyja was if she was panting so hard.

"Uhn, that's the ticket," Desmond sighed, bucking with a quickening pace. He held Freyja close and kissed her ears but he was flatly raping her in the ass. The footage captured would be beautiful and arguably some of the finest Desmond had ever cut, but the dog would be sore and slobbering desperately at her asshole for relief in the coming days.

Desmond's balls swung up and batted Freyja's delicate muff as his bound tail wagged awkwardly. His paws caressed the dog's chest and belly, but mostly he held her tightly and fucked her with everything that he had. Soon he started to groan and pant to match Freyja's own panting and the manner in which his cock throbbed and his balls tightened up could mean only one thing.

With everything else Freyja had been through recently, to feel Desmond buck it in one last time and dump his messy load into her ass was hardly the most upsetting thing. Even when he yanked it out mid-climax, subjecting her to awful and sharp pain, she hardly yelped and stayed passive like a good girl. And when she felt his cum leaking against her mound while much of the same drooled from her subtly agape asshole, she was a good girl.

As he enjoyed the full extent of his climax, Desmond groaned into Freyja's ear, "I love you, girl." What he spoke was not pillow talk, and in fact was almost too light for the camera to pick up. It was just for her ears and she had heard the words often enough from master, and with a similar if less lurid tone, to know what they meant.

That night, as Desmond edited his new porno, Freyja laid close to his computer chair and gnawed on a rawhide chew. She didn't know why exactly she had gotten it, but Desmond had told her it was for being so good in her first film. She might have enjoyed the chew more if not for frequent, nearly obsessive twists back to lick her sore anus.

The night was still young after Desmond got his video finished and sent off. He and Freyja had a midnight plate of nachos with the dog getting the leftover cheese, and Desmond played his video games for a few hours, this time with Freyja pressed up close to him.

In a moment when the game required no input, Desmond stroked fondly down Freyja's body. He softly pressed on her vulva and all she did was huff boredly. "You're a good girl, Freyja."

Freyja slept that night as happy as any dog possibly could. In time, master's memory would fade away. Through more shoots and a few litters of valuable puppies surprisingly free of maladies, Desmond and Freyja bonded to the point of inseparability.