The wooden barn doors groan shut behind you, and the lock bolts slam home with a sound that punches through your ribs.

Your wrists are still raw from the ropes they cut off in the cart. You'd screamed yourself hoarse during the ride up the mountain, but the driver—some scaled thing with too many knuckles—had simply reached back and pressed one cold finger to your lips.

Now you're standing in sawdust and straw, naked before you even knew they'd stripped you. Your dress is gone. Your underwea are torn in some corner. All that remains is your skin, prickling in the cold air, and the three shapes that circle you like wolves deciding where to bite first.

"This one's got fight," rumbles the first voice.

The minotaur steps into the lantern light.

His horns curve back from a broad, flat face, nostrils flaring as he breathes you in. Black fur covers his arms, his massive shoulders, the thick column of his neck. He's wearing nothing. His cock hangs half-hidden in a sheath of furred skin, but you see the weight of it.

"Fight's good," says another voice.

The werewolf appears.

His fur is silver-grey, matted across his chest and down his spine. He's leaner than the minotaur but no less dangerous. His snout twitches, nose working, and his eyes are the color of amber. He doesn't bother hiding what's between his legs. The red tip of his cock has already slipped free of its sheath, glistening.

"Mouthy, though," observes the third. "Heard her all the way up the switchbacks. Screaming."

The horse hybrid steps closer.

He has no fur. Just smooth, dark hide stretched over a frame that seems built for endurance. Broad hands. Wide shoulders. And when he turns fully toward you, you see the length of him—not fully erect yet, but the half-hard shaft hangs near his knee. Veins trace blue rivers beneath the skin.

You back up. Your spine hits cold wood. A stall divider.

"No—" The word tears out of you before you can stop it. "Please, I don't—I can't—"

"Shhhh."

The werewolf is in front of you before your next breath. His hand cups your jaw, claws retracted, but the pads of his fingers press hard enough to hurt. "You can. That's the beautiful part, little meat. Your body knows exactly what to do. It's just your mouth that hasn't learned yet."

You try to turn your head. He holds you still.

"Let me hear her," the minotaur says, stepping closer. His shadow swallows you. "Want to know what kind of sounds she makes."

"I told you. Mouthy."

The werewolf's thumb presses against your lower lip. You clamp your mouth shut, jaw grinding. He chuckles and then his fingers find the corners of your mouth and pull.

"Open."

You shake your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Variks Farm doesn't buy closed mouths," the horse hybrid says from somewhere behind you. You feel his heat at your back. His hand lands on your hip, palm calloused, fingers spreading wide to measure the span of your waist. "Variks buys service holes. So you'll open, or we'll open you, and one of those takes a lot longer."

The werewolf's other hand comes up. Two fingers push past your lips before you can bite down. They scrape your tongue. They press toward the back of your throat.

"Ghkk—"

"That's it. That's the sound."

He fucks your mouth with his fingers, pushing in until your eyes water, pulling out to let you gasp, then shoving deeper. Your hands come up to claw at his wrist, but the minotaur catches both your wrists in one massive fist and pins them above your head.

"Let her fight," the minotaur says. "Adds flavor."

The horse hybrid's hands are on your breasts now. No warning. Just palms cupping the weight of you, thumbs finding your nipples already tightened to hard peaks from fear and cold. He circles them, presses down, pinches.

You scream into the werewolf's fingers.

"Good," the horse hybrid breathes against your ear. "Good tits. Look at these, Dorn."

The minotaur—Dorn—leans down. His free hand comes up, and he doesn't just look. He touches. He palms your breast, lifts it, squeezes until you feel the pressure deep in the tissue. His thumb rasps over your areola, then he bends his head and licks.

The wet heat of his tongue shocks a moan out of you. Your hips jerk. The horse hybrid's cock—when did it get hard?—presses against the small of your back, hot, heavy and so long you can feel it riding up between your shoulder blades.

"Pretty nipples," Dorn observes, pulling back. He licks his lips. "Small areolas. Sensitive, look—" He flicks one with his thumb and your whole body twitches. "She's going to be a faucet when we really get going."

"Check the rest of her."

The werewolf's fingers withdraw from your mouth with a wet schlick. You cough, drool stringing from your lower lip to his knuckles, and he wipes it on your cheek. "Turn her around. Want to see the back."

The hands on you rearrange you like livestock.

The horse hybrid grips your hips and spins you, forcing you on your knees. And then the werewolf is behind you, one hand spreading your ass cheeks apart, the other sliding between your thighs from the front.

"No—don't—"

"Shut her up," Dorn says mildly.

The horse hybrid steps in front of you. His cock bobs at eye level—thick, dark, the head already weeping clear fluid. He grips your hair at the crown and tilts your face up. "Open that pretty throat."

You keep your jaw locked. He sighs.

Then he pinches your nose.

You hold out for seven seconds. Maybe eight. Then your lungs force your mouth open and he shoves inside, deep, his cock sliding over your tongue and hitting the back of your throat before you can even process the taste of salt and musk.

"HURK—"

"There she is."

He doesn't move at first. Just lets you choke. Your throat convulses around his shaft, trying to push him out, but that only makes him groan and press deeper. Spit floods your mouth, spills down your chin, drips onto your chest.

"Look at that," the werewolf says behind you. His fingers are at your pussy—you feel them parting your folds, exposing you. "She's already wet. Look. Look."

He spreads you open. You hear the wet sound of it, the schlick of your own arousal betraying you. Dorn leans around to see, and his grunt of approval vibrates through the stall.

"Tight little cunt," the werewolf continues. His fingertip circles your entrance, teasing the wetness gathering there. "But she'll stretch. They always do. And look at this—"

He pulls his hand back. You feel the blunt press of his thumb at your asshole instead.

"MMMMPH—"

"No, no, keep choking," the horse hybrid says pleasantly. He pulls his cock back until just the head rests on your tongue, then shoves forward again.

"Ghhhk!"

"That's perfect. Do that again."

His fingers tighten in your hair. He sets a rhythm; long, lazy thrusts that bury him in your throat each time, your lips stretched around the base of his shaft, your nose pressed to his lower belly. Every push makes you gag. Every gag makes your throat squeeze him tighter. He groans above you, head thrown back, hips rolling.

"She's drooling down her tits," Dorn observes. You feel his hand on your breast again, smearing your spit across your nipple. "And her ass—"

The werewolf's thumb presses harder. Not inside yet. Just rubbing, circling, feeling the tight ring of muscle clench and release and clench again.

"Never been touched here," the werewolf says. You can hear the grin in his voice. "Virgin hole. Dorn, you want first?"

"Tempting. But let's see how many fingers she takes before she comes."

"Before?"

"You think she's not going to come?"

They both laugh. The horse hybrid pulls out of your throat just long enough for you to gasp, "Please, please, I don't want this"—and then he's back, stuffing your mouth full, cutting off your protests with the fat head of his cock.

The werewolf's finger pushes into your pussy.

Just one. Just the first knuckle. But your body reacts like you've been electrocuted; back arching, hips grinding back onto his hand, a moan vibrating around the cock in your throat. He sinks deeper. One finger. Two. Curling them, stroking the spongy spot inside you that makes your knees buckle.

"There it is," he murmurs. "There's her button. Feel that? She's squeezing me like a fist."

"Work her open," Dorn says. "Both ends."

The werewolf's thumb presses against your asshole. And pushes.

The stretch burns. You scream around the horse hybrid's cock, but the sound comes out muffled, choked. The werewolf works his thumb in slow circles, forcing the tight ring to give way, while his other fingers keep pumping your pussy. Two in there now. Maybe three. You've lost count.

And then... betrayal.

Your hips start moving on their own. Rocking back into the werewolf's hand. Grinding down onto his fingers. Your pussy flutters, and that pressure building in your belly isn't pain anymore—

"Ngh... no—"

"Yes," Dorn says. He's moved closer, you feel his furred chest against your side, his hand sliding down your belly to where the werewolf's fingers disappear inside you. His thumb finds your clit. Circles it. "Yes, little bitch. That's the first one of many."

You come screaming.

It rips through you without permission. Your pussy spasms around the werewolf's fingers, clenching so hard he grunts with surprise. Your asshole tightens around his thumb. Your whole body shakes, convulses, and through it all the horse hybrid keeps fucking your throat, forcing you to swallow around his cock, choking on every thrust.

The orgasm goes on too long. Weeps out of you in shuddering waves. When it finally stops, you're limp with rapture.

"Beautiful," Dorn says. He pulls his hand back and sucks his thumb clean. "Now we fuck her."

They position you like a doll.

The werewolf lies on his back in the straw, cock jutting up against his belly—red, ridged, his knot already beginning to swell. He grips your hips and pulls you down onto him, your pussy stretched wide around his shaft.

"Aaaahhnn—"

"Shh. Bottom out. Take it all."

You sink onto him inch by inch. He's not as long as the horse hybrid, but he's thick, and the ridges drag against every nerve inside you. When your ass meets his hips, you feel him pressed against your cervix, and your eyes roll back.

"Good girl," the werewolf breathes. "Now don't move."

You couldn't move if you tried. Your legs are shaking too hard.

But Dorn kneels behind you. You feel his hands on your hips, spreading you wider, and then something cool and wet drips down the crack of your ass: spit, he's spitting on you, working the saliva into your hole with his thumb.

"Ready, sweet little bitch?"

"No—not there—I can't—"

His cock presses against your asshole.

You've never had anything inside there. Never even touched yourself that way. But Dorn doesn't care about your experience. He pushes, and the head of his huge cock stretches the tight ring until you feel like you're splitting in half.

"BREATHE," he commands.

You breathe. And he slides deeper.

The pain whites out for a moment. Then something shifts. Muscles giving up, giving in, and he's inside, his cock filling your ass completely, pressed against the thin wall that separates him from the werewolf's shaft in your pussy.

You can feel both of them. Every ridge. Every vein. The werewolf's cock swelling inside you,the curve of Dorn's shaft pressing forward.

"Look," the horse hybrid says.

He's kneeling in front of you now, cock in hand, stroking slowly. He reaches out and presses his palm flat against your stomach. You glance down.

There's a visible bump. Two of them, pressing against the wall of your belly from the inside.

"There's your purpose," he says. "Just a set of holes for us to use. Now open up."

You don't have the strength to fight. Your jaw drops open and he feeds his cock into your mouth, down your throat, past where you thought your throat ended. The bulge in your neck matches the one in your belly.

And then they start moving.

The werewolf thrusts up into your pussy. Dorn thrusts forward into your ass. The horse hybrid thrusts deep into your throat. Three different rhythms, three different angles, and you're just the meat between them. Bouncing, choking, drooling, moaning despite yourself.

"Ghhhk—glrk—shhlck—"

The sounds are filthy.

Your pussy squelches around the werewolf's cock every time he pulls back. Your ass stretches wide as more spit is rubbed all over your rim. The horse hybrid's balls slap against your chin when he fucks your throat, and his pre-cum mixes with your spit and drips down your chest.

"She's taking it," Dorn growls. His claws dig into your hips hard enough to leave marks. "Taking all of us. Look at her throat—look—"

The horse hybrid pulls out just enough for you to see his cock sliding in and out of your stretched lips. Your throat bulges with each thrust. Your eyes are streaming. Your nose runs.

"Pretty little bitch," the horse hybrid sighs. He shoves back in and you gag, throat convulsing, and he groans.

You climax again.

This one doesn't ask permission. Your pussy squeezes the werewolf's length, your ass clamping down on Dorn's shaft, your throat spasming around the horse hybrid's length. You scream but no sound comes out. Just a wet ghkk around the cock in your mouth.

"That's it," Dorn snarls. "That's it, take it, take it—"

They fuck you through the orgasm. Past it. Into another one that crests before the first one finishes.

The werewolf comes first. You feel his knot lock inside you, swelling until you can't move, and then hot floods of cum pump you full. His hips jerk. His head tips back, and he howls.

The sound triggers Dorn. He slams into your ass one last time, balls deep, and you feel his cock pulse, once, twice, three times, pumping his load into your bowels. His hands crush your hips. His roar drowns out everything else.

The horse hybrid pulls out of your throat just long enough to stroke himself over your face. "Open your eyes."

You do. The first rope of cum hits your left eye. The second paints your lips. The third lands on your chest, and by the time he's done you're wearing him like a mask.

They pull out slowly. You feel every inch, the slide, the emptiness, the rush of fluids that follow. Cum drips from your pussy, your ass, your mouth. It pools in your navel. It runs down your thighs.

You collapse face-first into the straw, shuddering.

"It's over," you whisper. "Please. It's over."

Dorn laughs.

"Poor little one," he says, petting your hair. "The night shift hasn't even clocked in."

The barn doors open again.

More shapes. More shadows.

A centaur, his human chest bare, his horse body gleaming. His cock hangs from his equine sheath, longer than the horse hybrid's.

Behind him, a lizardfolk with rusty scales, his tongue flickering out to taste the air. His cock is different; ridged, barbed, the color of blood.

A gargoyle shambles in last. Stone and power. His cock is carved from the same grey rock, slick with some kind of oil that drips onto the floor.

"First shift did good work," the centaur says, circling you. His hooves click on the wood. "She's loose. Ready."

"No," you try. Your voice comes out broken. "No more—"

The lizardfolk kneels beside your head. His forked tongue licks the cum off your cheek. "More," he says simply. "Always more. You don't stop until morning, little one. That's the point."

The gargoyle crouches between your legs. Stone fingers part your pussy—still dripping, still twitching—and he pushes one huge finger inside. The stone is rough, textured, and you feel every groove scraping your walls.

"Wider," the gargoyle says. "She needs to be wider."

The centaur lowers himself and positions himself at your mouth. His cock is too long, too thick, but you don't have the strength to fight. He pushes past your lips and down your throat without resistance this time. Your throat has learned. It opens for him like a sheath.

The lizardfolk takes your pussy. His barbed ridges catch on every nerve as he slides inside, and you scream around the centaur's cock—but the scream turns into a moan when the barbs drag against that spot inside you. He fucks you slow. Each stroke scrapes you raw and sends lightning up your spine.

The gargoyle takes your ass. Stone stretches you wider than Dorn did, wider than you thought possible, and the oil lubricates but doesn't cushion. You feel every inch of carved rock pressing into your bowels.

Three of them. Three new monsters. Three new rhythms.

You stop fighting after the first hour.

By the second hour, you're on your side, riding the centaur's cock while the lizardfolk fucks your ass from behind and the gargoyle kneels in front of you, your lips stretched around his stone shaft. Your jaw aches. Your throat is raw. But your pussy keeps clenching, and your ass keeps gripping, and you keep coming... over and over, orgasms stacked on orgasms until you can't tell where one ends and another begins.

The centaur paints your pussy with his release. The lizardfolk follows, filling your ass until it overflows. The gargoyle finishes last, pulls out, strokes his stone cock over your face, and unloads grey-white cum across your tongue and cheeks and hair.

You lie in the mess. Unable to move. Unable to close your legs. Your pussy gapes open, leaking. Your ass is similar; a dark, stretched hole that winks. Cum drips from your lips, your chin, your eyelashes.

The lizard cups your face and tilts it toward him. "Look at you," he says softly. "Broken in. Ready."

He kisses your forehead and stands. "The day shift will be here soon. Rest while you can, little one."

The barn doors close.

The lanterns flicker.

And somewhere outside, you hear more hooves approaching.

You can only stand there gaping and holding on to your walking cane for dear life as the centaurs bustle around. Some of them are already in the ring, walking in gentle circles with their riders, while others help each other fasten their saddles and guide ropes.

"You must be new," a friendly voice booms from high above you.

A centaur with a draft horse body and feathery hooves smiles at you, leaning down to offer his hand. You shake it timidly, explaining that you didn't know what type of riding therapy it was until you got here.

"It's a fairly new practice. We recommend that you see it as merely an extra step to getting back in the saddle. Centaurs typically have a smoother gait and unlike horses, we can understand our riders perfectly. Makes for a soothing experience. Do you want to try?"

It does sound less stressful than riding a horse when he puts it that way. You nod slowly.

"You can pick from any centaur that isn't already saddled," he says.

"Then, um, can I choose you?"

He doesn't hesitate to nod, a smile spreading on his face as he moves over to a mounting block. Another centaur offers to help with the saddle, but you decline. Putting the saddle on has always been a calming experience for you, even though you need to use a bit more effort this time thanks to the size of your ride. You're so deep into it that you even give him a pat on the belly out of habit. He laughs at how flustered you get and assures you that he doesn't mind.

It takes a bit of work to actually get in the saddle, and your knees ache by the time you settle. You're very high up. You take a deep breath and try not to tug anxiously on the guide ropes. He takes a couple of steps forward to ease you in before settling into a rolling walk. You realize it's not bad at all. The sun is mild, and the centaur's gait is so smooth you might well be sailing on a tranquil sea. For the first time in forever, you're smiling.

ORC

Maybe the intense summer heat was an excuse for couples to get naked and take a cool dip in the lake near the village. Orcs were shameless, well, in human standards they were. Nudity and sex weren’t taboo, no one ever shied away from a good time, especially on special occasions such as the annual summer festival. At first, when you moved in with your husband after journeying around multiple cities and towns, you were quite surprised at how carefree orc culture truly was. Even after being married for almost half a decade you still try to at least salvage what was left of your dignity and wear a swimsuit at events like these. Your husband never took things too far, always respecting your wishes to keep your sex life private, but you never really wanted to admit the whole thing did turn you on… maybe you were still too square. Normally you would sit on the edge of the lake by your husband while eating food cooked from the fair. It was common for neighboring orcs, humans and other monsters to show up to celebrate with alcohol and food to cool off. The event was huge, a phenomenon where creatures from across the globe could get along for a few days to celebrate the summer.

It took awhile for you to get ready today, normally you’d go to the lake with your husband, but you just couldn’t find your bathing suit for the life of you. You looked everywhere, in the bathroom, under the bed, in your closet, only to find all of your swimsuits untidy and thrown into the laundry basket near the window. You could have cleaned one up..but that would take forever, you’re sure you’d probably miss the whole festival. So, you decide to go outside with a long towel wrapped around your body. You found it in the bathroom in a panic, dust and lint curled onto the ruffled fabric. It seemed like it was in top notch condition to hold you up for a while.. maybe you’ll just go home early tonight after eating with your husband and friends.

The festival was as expected, loud and overly crowded with couples, friends and distant strangers roaming around. You couldn’t see your husband anywhere, which was shocking since he was relatively pretty huge, even for orc standards. You find your way through countless nude pairs, going to a food stand with your husband's favorite dish. You wait in line awkwardly, fumbling to keep your pesky towel on as it slips past your breast occasionally. You got two plates of the food, a sweet surprise since your husband always buys your meal at these fairs. You just hoped he hadn’t helped himself to the food before you got there, otherwise you’d have to eat this huge plate on your own.

The lake was crowded, orcs and other monsters cramped in small groups and spaced apart. You looked for your husband across the endless stream of creatures, tumbling and turning in grassy hills so you could secure your place by his side. You spot the large outline of him, a big orc with a large wide back and long raven locks of hair spread on his muscular back. You wanted to surprise him, sneak up against him before you got in the water. You hurry behind a large bush, watching as he relaxes his shoulders and closes his eyes, perfect, you had thought. This was the perfect time to jump out at him—

“Hi there, handsome.” You stumble on the ground, landing hard on the bushy floor, a tall woman, a pink succubus with light pink hair stands besides your husband, she’s nude, most people here are.. and damn did she look good.

You knew your husband was a handsome orc, no matter the species you were always a bit insecure about your place as his wife when others looked at him. “What are you doing all by yourself? Want some company?” A few more women appeared behind the tall succubus, all beautiful and nude as they towered over your husband as he sat silently in the water.

You could only hear the distant sounds of the chattering crowd behind you and a few crickets chirping by your bare feet. You watched as your husband took a sip of his large drink in hand, his chest heaving before he finally spoke. “Come out, I know you’re there, I can smell you.”

You stiffen, legs going numb from embarrassment and fear. You were terrified to walk out there.. let those women see you, let them judge you, let them believe he deserved better than this small human thing.

“Who.. what are you talking about?” The pink woman in front places a hand on her hip, looking around the dark forest. Carefully, you stand up, two paper plates in hand as you stare them down.

“Ah, I knew it,” the woman scrunched her face. “I thought I smelt human flesh from here.”

“Is she your maid?” Another woman asks

Your body burns from embarrassment, and anger, you always doubted yourself as your husband's wife. He was the chief after all, and you were only human. Maybe they were right.

“Speak ill of my wife again, wench, and I’ll cut your damn head off.”

Your husband stood up, walking over to your side. His body looked chiseled, water droplets oozing down his large chest. You all couldn’t help but stare in awe.

“Come here, let’s find another place to sit.” He lifts you up, taking the paper plates out of your hand in one swoop. He treads through the water, strong muscular legs swaying easily as he carries you to a public area filled with orcs and a few humans.

You lay into his chest once he sits down, heaving body shuttering as you cry. He immediately lifts your face with his large hand, placing the plates of food off to the side. His stern expression made you feel self conscious, weak, and all you wanted to do was hide yourself away. Drown yourself in the water.

“Look at me, wife.” He hugs your smaller frame to him before lifting you up to kiss your trembling lips. “You are stronger than them. Ignore it, it’s beneath you. They are beneath you.”

He nuzzles himself into your neck, hot breath drying the tears that fall to your chest.

In an act of courage , you grab his shoulders, thrusting yourself up so you can taste his salty tongue. Your towel is gone in an instant, flowing and forgotten in the dark water.

He holds your hip, large hand already pumping and tugging his thick green cock.

You slip him inside your pulsing hole, thrusting your hips violently against him. Water splashed around you, made waves soaking your upper back.

“That’s it..” he panted out, the two of you had drawn out quite a crowd. “Take me, take what’s yours.”

You scratch into his chest, fingernails gripping on for dear life as you claim him. “Let them see that we belong together.”

Your breath was heavy, legs trembling around his thick waist when he pumps up into you from below. “Fuck..I’ll never get tired of you, ever.” He moaned out loudly, not caring if anyone was looking. He needed to get rid of all those impulsive thoughts rotting his pretty wife’s mind.

CENTAUR

“Where are you going now?”

Your feet stomp down next to a bush of soft puffy flowers at the edge of the forest as you storm away from your husband who’s putting little to no effort to follow your footsteps as he slowly trots behind you. You were heated, angry, and each time your mind trailed back to that small moment at the local shops an hour ago you wanted to hit yourself. You both had just gone to shop for some ingredients for dinner, that was all, but of course knowing you, you ended up getting completely sidetracked by sideshow snacks.

You wanted to taste it all, and being the good man your husband was, he happily obliged carrying around all the snacks you could grab in a bag on his strong back. You took everything , candies, baked goods, savory dishes and drinks alike, after eating so many delicious things nature called, and you had to run to the bathroom, leaving your husband to wait at the tailor shop. You were only gone a few minutes, the walk between the two places wasn't that long despite the large crowds of various people and monsters roaming around. You were ready to head back home with your husband, you were sure his wallet would thank you after he spoiled you with treats. It was quite a surprise when you came back to see your husband being fitted for a suit, the woman taking his measurements was so close to him, flirting off his ear as she complimented his strong physique.

It was true that your husband was a looker. A centaur who’d turn heads no matter the creature. He was a big soft giant, long black curly hair, alluring sharp eyes, a muscular body and a surprisingly sweet smile.

“Hey,” your husband grabs your wrist, a nice gentle but firm tug to pull you into his chest. “What’s wrong ? Are you upset with me?”

“You’d rather walk today? I can carry you on my bac—“

“No need to worry about me. You seemed to find nice company with that saleswoman at the tailor shop just fine. Why don’t you go ask her how she’s feeling?” A passive aggressive smile perked on your lips as you try your best to pull away, but your husband doesn’t let up. He holds you, a concerned glint in his eye before he hesitantly speaks

“The tailor shop saleswoman? What about her?”

You roll your eyes “I’ve known human males to be quite clueless but I expected better from you.”

“Excuse me!?—“

You yank your hand away, this time actually succeeding. Taking the chance to use your husband’s visible confusion as an opportunity to leave, you turn around to go, and your feet betray you. Shocker. His grip was far too strong for you, and the force when you pulled away hauled you to the ground in a split second. Luckily the warm puffy flowers cushioned your fall. You rub your side, moaning in pain and embarrassment before your husband walks over. You thought he’d ask if you were ok, but when you finally met his gaze you couldn’t help but gulp down your breath.

“You want to question my loyalty, girl? Is that it?”

He flips you over with his front leg, a soft nudge that rolls you onto your belly. “You need me to fuck you at the edge of the forest? Prove to everyone that I’m yours? Hah—“ your husband laughs bitterly, his large body towering over your own. “I thought it was obvious I was spoken for, but since you say otherwise I’ll happily oblige showing you off.”

“Lift up your dress.”

“Let me claim you again since you’ve forgotten my vows.”

Your legs go numb in fright, your usually gentle husband was puffing clouds of air out his flared nostrils as he hovered over you completely. His chest heaved with anger, a solemn expression merging on his features as waited for you to turn around. Perhaps your anger was a bit foolish to someone who devoted himself to the very dirt you walked on. Wasn’t it?

“Maybe I was being a bit unreasonable—“ you began, throat clumping up with spit, your warm body fidgeting from embarrassment when you see the outline of your husband's large cock rise from under his tummy, you wanted to retract what you said, run away, but where could hide against someone as fast as he was?

“..” your usual ebb of jokes couldn’t soothe your husband, being accused of infidelity was a serious allegation, and what kind of man would he be letting those thoughts dwell in your pretty little head.

You weren’t sure how you got like this, but minutes of rough kisses over your bruised lips and neck were enough to coax you onto a large rock, your husband happily maneuvering over you, front muscular legs leaning against stone as he rubbed the head of his cock near your entrance. You were lucky, centaurs' natural magic with their respective mates were strong enough to give you the will power to overcome that aching stretch, even though you’ve felt him in your guts ever since you both met each other. But he was angry, a new side from him that you’ve never seen before, would he punish you for questioning his loyalty?

“Do you feel that?” Your pussy squelched underneath him, his cock dragging deliciously inside until his tip laid a few inches in. He was bullying you. Your prediction was admirably accurate. He buries himself, tip melting your insides as it massages you till it pressed firmly to your cervix. Your puffy wet folds were spread concerningly wide around your husband’s cock, miking him just how you were supposed to “I was made for you” he rasped, and if you could see the look in his eye when he finally bottomed out it’d be downright animalistic, a euphoria that only you can summon.

“I’m sorry—“ you whine, fingers desperately clawing into the curve of the large rock for stability to no avail..he pumps himself up, strong legs holding his massive size so he doesn’t crush you. He was mad, but all he wanted to do was prove how loyal he was…

“You should be…do you think I’d go that low as to cheat on you?” He rasps, hips not letting up as he slams into you, your pussy gaping around his length as thin lines of your arousal drips down your thighs..you hoped to the gods no one nearby saw you getting railed viciously by your husband. “This pussy belongs to me..” he hums, slamming against you “don’t want anyone else..” you gag when he rolls his hips, lips stained with drool when his cock rubs against the sensitive surface of your insides.

“And I’ll fuck you all night until you understand that.”

WEREWOLF

It was common for your husband to be more jealous than you. You were supposed to be the level headed one, the person who’d set him straight if he got too out of hand, and now here you are, walking away from your husband's tournament like a child. Werewolves were known for having annual tournaments in the summer, different packs would come together and compete against each other for sport. The most popular game consisted of fighting, but there were other sports like swimming and track races for those who wanted to avoid being involved toe to toe with a werewolf stronger than them. You were human, and luckily for you (well, if you’ll consider it lucky) you were thereby exempted from most games besides the track race. Not that you could out run a werewolf anyway…

You were always supportive of your husband’s interests in fighting, you’d happily cheer him on in the stands with his family and your children. You’d normally let your father and mother in laws have their time with the kids while you both walked around the fair and ate together, but this year you couldn’t even stand to look at him. You knew your husband had a lot of close friends in different packs, and you were always happy to see him connect with his old friends after being apart for so long, but nothing could have prepared you when you met his childhood best friend. She was beautiful, a tall werewolf with moxie, she was overly confident, very sweet and perplexingly strong..and while you had no problem with her at all, the closeness from your husband and his excitement once he saw her made you feel extremely insecure. You tried to sit things out, cheer him on as usual, but you felt like a third wheel in your own marriage when you compared yourself to her. She was flexible with your husband, a strong personality that’d make anyone around her comfortable. They seemed so compatible that it made you feel sick.

“You look a bit off,” your mother in law sits by you, fuzzy hand wrapping around your shoulder as you stare blankly onto the field where your husband was talking with his childhood friend. “What’s the matter?”

You snap your eyelids shut, finally coming to after watching the game with a numb stiff expression. You smile shyly, still too afraid to voice yourself in fear of being ridiculed. “Lai,” you admit, “She’s getting along with my husband really well, am I wrong for feeling insecure?”

“She’s super nice though,” you retorted, trying to lighten your former bitter words. “I just feel… jealous?”

Your mother in law silently looks at you, then towards her son on the field, she ticks her tongue, teeth baring in annoyance.

You both watch as your husband tussles on the ground with Lai, their laughter playfully echoing throughout the forest as it mixes in with the loud crowd of werewolves practicing around them.

“Look,” your mother in law begins, her fuzzy arm offering you a bit of comfort to lean into. “My son, no, my sons were never really the bright types.”

You smile sweetly at her light joke, noting how her eyes crinkle up when she sees your tension fade away. “He’s not the brightest, none of them are. But, I do know that the fool does love you, he can’t stop talking about you. A little rough play is normal between our kind, they’re just friends, nothing more.”

“I don’t know mom,” your brother in law chimes in, a slab of meat drooling out his lips. He was obviously eavesdropping into your semi private conversation. “I always thought that they’d end up together, Lai did have some pretty strong feelings for him back then, yeah? They match each other really well.”

Oh.

Ok.

Ouch.

Your mother in law snaps her head at her son, teeth baring. Taking the chance to leave the awkward situation, you timidly stand, scooting away from your heaving in laws as you make your way back to your home. You won’t embarrass yourself any further tonight…

You were so close to your home, you wanted to get as far away from your husband as possible, even more so away from your stupid brother-in-law. Most of the family accepted you when you married your husband, except him. And you were sure it was because you weren’t one of them… interspecies relationships were still a bit taboo after all.

“Hey— wait up,” the distant call of your husband’s voice rings out in the woods, you could feel him getting dangerously close, so you stop, not wanting him to tackle you to the ground.

“What?” You turn to him, bitter tearful drops of your sorrow and jealousy finally pooling over your waterlines. Your husband stops in his tracks in front of you.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Why’d you leave?” He’s quick to pull you into his fuzzy heaving chest, he had run after you for quite a bit.

“I’m fine…” you rub your puffy cheeks, trying to pull away from your husband, but he cages you in his strong arms.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing—“

“It doesn’t look like nothing, baby, talk to me.”

You twist in his arms, tripping the both of you onto the ground. He pounces on you, large body heaving as he stares you down.

You both tussle around, his strong hands gripping your wrist.

“Lai, you two are close!” You breathlessly yell, pushing at his chest to get him off you, but he stays, wide eyes finally opening in surprise at your honesty “Even your brother thinks she’s a perfect match for you, so why don’t you leave me alone and go back to her?”

Your husband silently observed you, his normally cheerful eyes now filled with wistful regret. He runs a clawed hand over your cheek, coughing up the awkward dryness from his throat before he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

He licks up your neck, nuzzling apologetically under your chin, his tail hangs below his legs, eyes filled with pages worth of guilt. “I haven’t seen her in years, we grew up together as pups, but I should have known better than to rough house with her like that. We’re not kids anymore..besides,” your husband finally stands, lifting you up in his strong arms before flailing you over his shoulder. “I already have the perfect wife, I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“I should have been more aware of how my actions might make you feel..”

Your neck has never been more bruised than tonight. Your husband had called his dad, giving him the ok to keep the kids for the night, tonight, he wanted to ravish you whole. He spent hours kissing and licking over your trembling body, his sharp teeth gnawing into your precious skin to leave his mark. He made sure to rub his body all over you, he needed to merge your scents together. He already smelt like you, but for the sake of both your peace of mind, he’ll drown himself in you tonight.

“M’sorry,” he’d mumble repeatedly against your breast, teeth tugging your sensitive nipple as he fucked himself into you at an alarming speed that made you both gag for fresh air. His cock was always a stretch, and you never learned your lesson so you had to suffer the familiar delicious sting of each inch apologetically working you open. Your husband couldn’t be any more apologetic, he kissed all over your face, warm slippery tongue rolling over the beaded tears that flooded down your cheeks. He loved the salty taste of you, loved tasting anything you had to offer.

“Gonna fucking fill you up again—”

He huffs, growling lowly near your throat to keep you in place when you start to squirm under his heavy weight. “I’d never replace you—ever you’re mine… you’re always gonna be mine—“ his teeth dig firmly, but carefully in your throat as he pumps himself up into you. Your legs were too weak to even wrap around him at this point as you laid helplessly underneath him.

“You want my scent, yeah?” He breathlessly chained himself to you with his legs when you squeezed around him tight “I’ll give you another one of my pups, since you want to show me off some more..” he puffed his chest, curling your legs up and over his shoulders so he could fuck you at a better angle. “I’ll never get tired of you, ever.”

“I’m yours.”

DRAGON

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Can you leave me alone? Thanks.”

You were on top of your husband's large exotic pile of gold, a lifelong collection that pales in comparison to his greatest treasure (his wife). Or so he’d say.

“How can I leave you alone when you’re acting reckless? Come down.” Your husband growls slowly under his breath, smoke from his nostrils flailing up as he circles you from below.

You childishly stick out your tongue, holding in a sharp laugh when you see your husband's nose flare from anger.

“You’re acting foolish,” he barks, loud booming voice shaking your makeshift throne of gold “what kind of woman gets jealous over jewelry!?”

“When I went shopping yesterday morning, do you know who I came across?” You twirl a large golden crown around your wrist, smiling at your husband's vivid irritation, he stops circling you, waiting for you to finish “I came across a fortune teller, I gave her two gold coins to read my future and she gave me a really nice reading about our marriage.”

“Hold on.” Your husband’s wings lower, he rubs his thick browline, hot air puffing underneath him. “You’re telling me, you’re jealous and angry at me over a phony side show fortune teller? You know those things are scams right?”

“I don’t think so, how’d she know I was mated and wed to a dragon?” You huff back at him

“Oh I have no idea, maybe because you walk away in the forest everyday and leave riding on my damn back!”

“She told me,” you happily continue, smiling giddily when you cut him off “dragons trade their mates for their gold. That gold and jewels are worth more than me to you, so, I’m tarnishing it before you rid yourself of me.”

….

…

“You’re an idiotic fool—“ he snarls out after an awkward long minute of silence.

“Oh screw you—“ you hurl a jewel at his head, body tipsy and turning as you fumble on the top of hard gold. You fall in a second off the shaky tower, it’s a long fall, it’s questionable how a tiny thing as yourself got to the top anyhow. Your husband flies under you, swooping you up in his strong arms in an instant.

He holds you tight against him until you both reach the warm cave grounds, an awkward silence lingering before he pins you to the cave wall, large warm body pressing against your tummy and chest

“You believe in tasteless myths. You should know by now that us dragons cherish our mates. From how much I spoil you,” he hissed

“Do I seem cold hearted to you?” He pushes impossibly close to you, a teasing glint in his eye when you return the same energy

“You are pretty rash, maybe you should prove yourself, hm? Tussle up a few of your prized possessions for me.”

“You don’t want me to be angry with you all day, right?”

You never knew your husband as the type who would own such provocative jewelry, but you’d be surprised how much is buried under piles and piles of this lifetime of treasure. Cute little gold nipple clamps, leaving your breast at his mercy to tug and pull on with the cute golden chain in the middle.

“When did you find this, and what were you even planning on using these for before marrying me— and mhh—“ he surprises you once more by wrapping a small gag across your lips, it tasted bitter and metallic.

“I don’t mind breaking some old gold chain if it means I get to see you like this,” he lets you sit on his large lap, straddling yourself steady to him before he lets you take control over his cock. He wanted everything to be fair, let you yank and pull at his gold if it’ll make you happy, so he lets you put a chain around his neck.

He lets you curve around him, short human legs barely snug around his thick frame. He lets you tease him, he loves when you boss him around, so, he challenges you to pull his neck hard, collective hungry eyes watching as you lower yourself down onto his flared iridescent cock. He lets out a loud purr when you finally sink down on him, your wet folds warm and spread on him, heated goo of arousal pooling to his heaving stomach.

“You’re still upset with me?” He blinks under you, eyelids on the brink of closing.

“Hmm,” you hum, “maybe you should make it up to me a bit more.”