The kennel is still short-staffed so Carl makes Lila a proposition that forces her to face her growing needs.
---Chapter 3---
The third day dawned with a routine that felt less alien. Feeding, cleaning, then back to the room. Carl started her with two dogs at once—a Shepherd and a Lab, guiding her onto all fours as one took her pussy, the other her mouth. She gagged and moaned around the cock in her throat while the other rutted deep, knots swelling in tandem, tying her mouth and cunt fully. The overload was intense, her body stretched and filled beyond reason, but she took it, orgasms crashing through her as cum overflowed from both ends. By midday, Carl stepped back, letting her handle a pair alone: Duke the Mastiff and Bruno the Rottweiler, the big boys. She positioned herself without instruction, ass up for Duke's massive cock in her pussy, mouth open for Bruno's thick length. They mounted her eagerly, thrusting in unison, her body rocking between them like a ragdoll. Duke's knot locked first, stretching her wide, Bruno following in her throat, the bulge making her jaw ache as she swallowed pulse after pulse. Tied at both ends, she trembled through multiple climaxes, the fullness consuming her.
Her repulsion, a whisper now, was drowned by the rush—the power in commanding their pleasure, in surviving the onslaught. Carl praised her after, "You're ready for more," and she nodded, a spark of pride flickering despite the shame.
Days melted into weeks, the routine embedding itself into her bones. Mornings started with chores, but afternoons and evenings were devoted to the studs—servicing them singly, in pairs, sometimes three at a time, her holes stretched to accommodate knots in pussy, ass, mouth simultaneously. She learned their preferences, their idiosyncrasies, their bodies. By the end of her first month, she could tell each dog by the shape and vein pattern on his throbbing cock. If she were blindfolded, she could name each one just by the way he rutted into her, how his claws gripped her body, how his hips thrust. Her body changed too—muscles toning from the constant positions, sensitivity heightening until even the brush of fur made her wet. The initial nausea faded, replaced by anticipation; she'd wake slick, fingers delving into herself before breakfast, imagining the day's lineup.
Carl noticed the shift in her; one evening, after she'd handled four dogs alone, knots tying her full until she blacked out from pleasure, he pulled her aside in the kitchen. "You've come far, girl. Acclimated real nice. But we're expanding. Need another hand. Or mouth, as it were." His grin was predatory, eyes dark with intent. "You're gonna help me recruit. Find a girl like you were—desperate, pretty, naïve. Bring her here, show her the ropes."
Lila stared at Carl across the kitchen table, the steam from her cooling stew curling between them like a veil. His words hung heavy in the air, that predatory grin splitting his bearded face, eyes gleaming with the same hunger she'd seen when he watched her take the dogs. Recruit another girl. The idea slithered into her mind, coiling around the remnants of her old self—the naive farm girl who'd stumbled into this hell thinking it was just about cleaning cages. Part of her recoiled, a sharp twist in her gut like the first time Max's cock had brushed her lips. Bring someone else into this? Trap them like she'd been trapped? But beneath that flicker of guilt, something darker stirred—a thrill, electric and unbidden, at the thought of wielding that power, of being the one to lure instead of the lured.
She shifted in her chair, the ache from the day's sessions still throbbing between her legs, a constant reminder of how far she'd fallen—or risen, depending on the angle. Weeks ago, she'd have bolted at the suggestion, tears streaming as she packed her truck and fled. Now? The paychecks had cleared her debts, the room was hers, and the rush... god, the rush of those knots swelling inside her, filling her until she shattered, had become an addiction she couldn't name. "Recruit how?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt, green eyes meeting his without flinching.
Carl leaned back, cracking open another beer, the hiss punctuating the distant howls from the kennels. "Simple. You know the type—young, broke, pretty enough to catch the eye. Hit the town tomorrow. Community center, diners, that dive bar on the edge of county. Post an ad if you gotta, same as I did for you: kennel assistant, room and board, good pay. Don't spill the details upfront. Lure 'em in, get 'em here. Then we break 'em like I broke you." His gaze dropped to her chest, where her nipples poked against the thin t-shirt, and he licked his lips. "You'll show her the ropes. Hands-on. Might even join in, make it a team effort."
Lila's cheeks flushed, not just from shame but from a spark of excitement at the image—another girl on her knees beside her, taking a dog's thrusting cock, their moans mingling as knots locked them tight. She pushed the thought down, forcing a nod. "And if she runs? Or fights?"
He shrugged, draining half the beer in one swig. "She won't, if you pick right. Desperate ones stay, just like you did. And if she needs convincing..." His hand reached across the table, rough fingers tracing her wrist, sending a shiver up her arm. "You'll handle it. You've got the touch now."
That night, in her room, Lila tossed under the sheets, her body slick with sweat despite the cool air seeping through the window cracks. Dreams assaulted her: not just the dogs mounting her, but her holding down a faceless girl, whispering encouragements as a thick cock breached her ass, the girl's cries turning to gasps of reluctant pleasure. Lila woke with her fingers buried in her pussy, knuckles deep, thrusting frantically until she came with a muffled groan, cum from her dream-self leaking onto the mattress. Hesitant? Yes. But the power called to her, a siren's song promising control in a world where she'd had none.
The next morning, after feeding the dogs—her hands lingering on Bruno's sheath, teasing out a drip of pre-cum that she licked absentmindedly from her fingers—Carl handed her the truck keys. "Take the day. Be back by dark with a prospect, or don't bother coming back at all." His tone was gruff, but his eyes promised rewards if she succeeded.
Lila gripped the steering wheel tighter as the truck rattled over the potholed road into town, the morning sun glinting off the hood like a mocking eye. Her mind churned with the weight of Carl's command, a tangle of reluctance and something sharper, more intoxicating. Hesitation clawed at her—how could she do this to another girl? Drag someone into the same pit she'd fallen into, where furred bodies pressed down and knots stretched you until you broke and reformed? But as the fields gave way to the sparse buildings of the county seat, that hesitation frayed at the edges, eroded by the memory of last night's dream, the way holding down that faceless figure had made her feel alive, in charge for once. Power. It whispered to her like the dogs' whines before a mounting, promising that she could be the one wielding the leash, not wearing it.
Town was a sleepy cluster of faded storefronts: a diner with grease-streaked windows, a community center advertising bingo nights on a peeling bulletin board, and the dive bar Carl had mentioned, its neon sign flickering even in daylight. Lila parked outside the diner first, her faded jeans and t-shirt feeling too tight, too revealing after weeks of stripping them off on command. She smoothed her ponytail, freckles standing out on her flushed cheeks, and stepped inside. The bell jingled like a warning, and heads turned—mostly older men nursing coffee, their eyes lingering on her curves just like Carl's did. She ignored them, heading to the counter where a bored waitress chewed gum and poured refills.
"Mind if I post this?" Lila asked, sliding a handwritten ad across the Formica. "Kennel assistant needed. Good pay, room and board included. Experience with animals a plus." She'd scrawled it that morning, the words echoing the one that had snared her, innocent on paper but laced with hidden barbs.
The waitress glanced at it, shrugging. "Sure, hon. Bulletin board's by the door." Her gaze flicked over Lila, curious but disinterested. "You hiring for that old coot Carl out on the edge? Heard he's got a mean pack of dogs."
Lila forced a smile, her stomach twisting. "Yeah, that's him. Busy place, needs help." She tacked the ad up, her fingers trembling slightly, then ordered a coffee to go, scanning the room for prospects. No one fit—too old, too male, too settled. She paid and left, the coffee bitter on her tongue, mirroring the conflict in her chest. This was wrong; she should tear the ad down, drive back empty-handed, face Carl's wrath. But as she walked to the community center, the thought of his disapproval—of losing the twisted security she'd found in the kennels—pushed her forward. And deeper still, that seductive pull: imagining another girl's wide eyes as the truth dawned, her body yielding under Lila's guidance and control. It made her thighs clench, a faint dampness blooming in her panties.
The community center was busier, a mix of locals milling about for a job fair poster on the wall—slim pickings in this economy, with farms folding and factories shuttering. Lila posted another ad on the corkboard, then lingered, pretending to browse flyers for yard sales and church suppers. Her eyes darted over the crowd: a few young women here, chatting in clusters, their faces etched with the same desperation she'd worn weeks ago. One caught her attention—a girl about her age, maybe twenty, with blonde hair in a messy bun, wearing a threadbare sundress that hugged slim hips and small breasts. She was alone, scanning the job listings with furrowed brows, her blue eyes wide and vulnerable, like a doe sensing a predator but not bolting yet.
Lila approached slowly, heart pounding, the duplicity thrilling her like the first touch of a dog's tongue. "Looking for work too?" she asked, voice casual, injecting a note of shared camaraderie. "Slim pickings today."
The girl turned, startled, then smiled faintly, relief softening her features. She was pretty in a fragile way—pale, wind-chafed skin, a smattering of freckles across her nose, lips full but chapped from worry. "Yeah, been at it for weeks. Name's Emma. Just moved back after college flopped. Parents' place is gone, so... crashing on a cousin's couch. You?"
"Lila," she replied, extending a hand, feeling the girl's soft grip, so unlike Carl's rough one. "Similar story. Farm went under, loans piling up. But I found something recently—kennel work out on the edge of town. Pays decent, includes a place to stay." The lie slipped out easily, greased by the power surging through her. Watching Emma's eyes light up, that spark of hope, sent a rush straight to Lila's core, warmer than any knot's pressure.
Emma's shoulders relaxed a fraction. "Kennel? Like dogs? I love animals—had a cat growing up, helped at a shelter once. What's it involve?"
"Feeding, cleaning runs, exercising them. Owner's a bit gruff, but fair." Lila leaned in, lowering her voice like sharing a secret. "Room and board's a lifesaver. No rent eating your check." She paused, gauging Emma's reaction—the way her eyes darted, calculating, desperate. Hesitation flickered in Lila again; this girl was her mirror, innocent, broke. But the seduction won out, the thought of corrupting that innocence, molding it into something like herself.
"Sounds perfect," Emma said, biting her lip. "Think they'd hire me? I mean, no real experience, but I'm a quick learner."
Lila smiled, the expression feeling predatory on her face. "Tell you what—I'll put in a good word. Owner's Carl; he's looking for another hand. Why don't you come out with me now? I can introduce you, show you around. Truck's outside."
Emma hesitated, glancing around the empty job fair, then nodded. "Yeah, okay. Nothing to lose, right?" Her laugh was nervous, but trusting, and Lila's pulse quickened at the ease of it. As they walked to the truck, Lila's mind raced with plans—how she'd ease Emma in, start with the innocent chores, then reveal the truth layer by layer, savoring the shift from shock to submission.
The drive back was filled with small talk: Emma chattering about her failed art degree, dreams of painting that crashed against reality; Lila nodding, sharing sanitized bits of her own story, all while her thoughts darkened. By the time the kennels came into view, the chorus of barks rising like a welcome, Lila's hesitation had evaporated, replaced by a hungry anticipation. She parked, leading Emma through the gate, Carl waiting with crossed arms and a knowing smirk.
"This is Emma," Lila said, her voice steady, a thrill in introducing her catch. "She's interested in the job."
Carl's eyes raked over Emma, lingering on her sundress's hem, the way it skimmed her thighs. "Good to meet ya. Lila here's been a godsend. Come on in, we'll talk details."
Emma followed, oblivious, her steps light as they entered the barn. The musky scent hit her, but she smiled, petting a Lab through the bars. "They're so cute! What's their names?"
Lila exchanged a glance with Carl, who flashed her an impish wink. "You'll learn 'em all soon enough." They started with the basics—showing Emma the feed buckets, the hoses, letting her help fill bowls while Carl watched, his presence heavy. Emma dove in eagerly, laughing as a mutt licked her hand, her innocence a stark contrast to the room's hidden purpose.
By midday, with the chores done, Carl nodded to Lila. "Show her the back room. The real work."
Emma wiped sweat from her brow, grinning. "There's more? Grooming or something?"
Lila watched Emma's face as they stepped into the back room, the dim light casting shadows that danced like secrets across the concrete. The air here was thicker, laced with that primal tang of sweat and something sharper, more forbidden—the remnants of yesterday's sessions clinging to the mats like a promise. Emma's blue eyes darted around, taking in the padded floors, the drains, the shelves lined with bottles and gloves, her messy bun bobbing as she tilted her head. "Grooming supplies? Looks kinda... industrial."
Carl closed the door behind them with a click that echoed like finality, his burly frame blocking the exit without trying. He crossed his arms, that salt-and-pepper beard twitching with a smirk Lila knew all too well—the one that said the trap was sprung. "Not grooming, exactly. Servicing. These studs need more than food and walks to stay prime. Lila here's the expert now. She'll show you."
Emma blinked, her chapped lips parting in confusion, a faint flush creeping up her pale neck. "Servicing? Like... training them or something?" Her voice held that innocent lilt, the kind Lila remembered from her own first day, when the world still made sense and boundaries weren't meant to be shattered.
Lila felt a twist in her gut, not quite guilt anymore but a remnant of it, sharpened by the thrill surging through her veins. This was her moment, the shift Carl had promised— from the one on her knees to the one holding the reins. She stepped closer to Emma, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, feeling the slight tremble under the thin sundress. "It's hands-on," Lila said softly, her voice steady, laced with the authority she'd earned through weeks of fur and fluids. "The dogs get pent up. We relieve them. Keeps 'em healthy, productive. Pays extra 'cause it's... intimate."
Emma's eyes widened, blue pools reflecting the horror dawning in her mind. She took a step back, bumping into Carl, who didn't budge. "Intimate? You mean... like touching them? Sexually?" Her laugh was nervous, disbelieving, hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "That's a joke, right? Some hazing for the new girl?"
Carl's rumble cut in, low and unyielding. "No joke. Part of the job. Lila started same as you—skeptical, but she learned quick. Show her, Lila. Bring in Max. He's gentle for beginners."
Lila's heart raced, a cocktail of power and memory flooding her. She remembered her own shock, the way her stomach had plummeted, but now? Now she moved with purpose, opening the side door to let Max bound in, the Golden Retriever's tail whipping the air, his nose immediately sniffing toward the women. Emma froze, her breath hitching as the dog circled her legs, cold snout brushing her bare calves. "What—no, I can't... this is crazy. I thought it was just dogsitting!"
"You can leave," Lila said, echoing Carl's words from her first day, but her hand stayed on Emma's arm, grip firming just enough to hold. "But think about it—couch-surfing, no money, no future. This pays triple what you'd get flipping burgers. Room's yours, food too. And it's not so bad once you start." Lies wrapped in truth; Lila knew the repulsion would hit hard, but so would the necessity, the way it had clawed at her until she'd knelt.
Emma shook her head, blonde strands escaping her bun, tears pricking her eyes. "Touching dogs? Like that? No, that's disgusting. I'm out." She tried to sidestep toward the door, but Carl's hand landed heavy on her shoulder, not painful but immovable.
"Door's there," he grunted. "But truck's mine today. Walk if you want—ten miles to town. Or stay, try it. One session. If it's not for you, I'll drive you back myself, no hard feelings."
Emma's chest heaved, panic etching lines on her fragile face. Lila saw herself in that mirror— the freckles, the wide eyes— and it fueled her, a dark bloom in her chest. She knelt slowly, drawing Emma's gaze, her own green eyes locking on. "Watch me first. See? It's quick." Max was already excited, his red cock peeking from its sheath as Lila reached out, fingers wrapping around the warm, slick length. She stroked slowly, feeling it swell in her palm, the veiny texture familiar now, almost comforting. Max whined, humping into her hand, pre-cum dribbling over her knuckles.
Emma averted her eyes, cheeks flaming red. "Stop... that's gross. I can't watch this."
But she didn't move, rooted by Carl's presence and the isolation sinking in. Lila sped up her strokes, squeezing the base where the knot began to bulge, milk-white skin contrasting with the dog's pink shaft. Max thrust frantically, hot jets spurting across her hand, splattering her jeans. She wiped it off casually, standing to face Emma. "See? Harmless. Your turn. Just a handjob. Then we talk pay."
Emma's tears spilled over, but her feet stayed planted, the desperation Carl had predicted winning out. "I... I need the money. But just this once. Promise?"
Lila nodded, suppressing the smirk, her predator's instinct purring. "Promise." She guided Emma to kneel, the girl's sundress hiking up her thighs, revealing pale skin goosebumped with fear. Max, still panting, sniffed at her, tongue lolling. Lila squirted lube into Emma's palm from the shelf, the cool gel making her flinch. "Wrap around him. Slow at first."
Emma's hand shook as she reached out, fingers grazing the dog's cock, now half-sheathed again but twitching at the touch. "It's... warm. Oh god, this is wrong." But she gripped it, stroking tentatively, the shaft hardening under her reluctant caress. Max humped forward, making her yelp, but Lila held her shoulder steady.
"Faster. Squeeze here." Lila's voice was calm, instructive, the power intoxicating as she watched Emma's face contort—disgust twisting her lips, but her hand obeying, pumping the veiny length until the knot swelled. Max whined louder, thrusting, and cum erupted, coating Emma's fingers in thick ropes, some hitting her dress. She recoiled, wiping her hand on the mat, sobs hitching. "I hate this. It's disgusting."
Carl chuckled from the corner. "First time's always rough. Clean up. Lunch next, then more."
Emma stood on wobbly legs, glaring through tears. "More? No, you said one!"
"One to start," Lila cut in smoothly, her hand on Emma's back now, guiding her to the sink. "But the job's all or nothing. Stay the day, see how it goes. Money's waiting at the end." The coercion was subtle, layered with empathy Lila faked from memory, but inside, she thrilled at the control, at pushing Emma deeper into the web.
Lunch was tense, Emma picking at her sandwich in the office, her dress stained, eyes downcast. "Why do you do this?" she whispered to Lila when Carl stepped out. "Doesn't it make you feel... dirty?"
Lila leaned in, voice low. "At first, yeah. Wanted to run. But the pay fixed everything. And after a while... it's not so bad. Empowering, even. You control them, in a way."
Lila felt the weight of Emma's question lingering in the air like the faint musk that never quite left the office, even after lunch. Dirty? Yes, it had made her feel that way at first, a stain that seeped into her skin with every spurt and thrust. But now, watching Emma push her half-eaten sandwich away, her sundress rumpled and stained with Max's drying cum, Lila sensed the shift already starting in the girl—a flicker in those wide blue eyes, not just horror but a question, a 'what if' buried under the revulsion. It mirrored her own early days, that internal war where disgust clashed with the practical grind of bills and empty pockets, only to be undercut by the body's treacherous responses. Empowering, she'd called it, and maybe it was, in the way enduring the unimaginable made you feel unbreakable.
Carl lumbered back in, wiping his hands on his overalls, his gaze flicking between them like he was sizing up livestock. "Break's over. Back to it. Rex is up, girl," he said to Emma, his voice gravel-rough, no room for argument. Emma's face paled, her chapped lips pressing into a thin line, but she didn't bolt. Lila saw it—the hesitation, the mental calculation of miles to town on foot, the cousin's couch wearing thin. Survival was a cruel hook, and it had snagged Emma just as it had her.
They returned to the back room, the concrete still holding the chill from earlier, the mats slightly damp where Lila had wiped away Max's mess. Rex was already whining behind his door, paws scratching impatiently, as if he sensed fresh meat. Carl unlatched it, and the Shepherd burst in, black-and-tan fur rippling over lean muscles, his sharp eyes locking onto Emma with that predatory focus that made Lila's thighs clench in memory. The dog's nose twitched, sniffing the air heavy with the scent of lube and lingering cum, his pink tongue darting out to wet his muzzle.
Emma backed up a step, her back hitting the shelf, bottles rattling softly. "What... what for him?" Her voice was small, cracked, but there was a note of resignation, like she'd already crossed a line with Max and knew pulling back now would snap something inside her.
Carl grunted, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, his bulge already straining his overalls. He nodded at Lila. "Show her how. Then she takes over."
Lila's heart thudded, a mix of authority and that dark thrill bubbling up as she knelt on the mat, beckoning Emma down beside her. The girl hesitated, her sundress hiking up as she lowered herself, knees pressing into the padding that smelled faintly of bleach and something earthier. Rex approached, tail swishing low, his cock already peeking from its furry sheath, red and slick, tapering to a point that glistened with pre-cum. Lila reached out, fingers grazing the warm length, feeling it twitch and harden under her touch. "Start like this," she murmured to Emma, her voice low, almost soothing, like she was teaching her sister a secret recipe. "Stroke it out, get him fully hard. Then lean in—use your tongue first, around the tip."
Emma watched, transfixed, her breath coming in shallow bursts, cheeks flushed scarlet. "I can't... put that in my mouth. It's an animal." But her eyes didn't leave the shaft as Lila pumped it slowly, the veiny surface pulsing, the knot at the base starting to swell like a promise.
"You can," Lila said firmly, her free hand resting on Emma's thigh, feeling the tremor there. It was a touch meant to steady, but it sent a jolt through Lila too—the softness of Emma's skin, so different from the coarse fur she'd grown used to. "It's salty, musky, but you get past it. Swallow what you can; the rest spills. Keeps him calm." She leaned forward then, parting her lips to take Rex's tip into her mouth, tongue swirling over the slick head, tasting the familiar bitterness that no longer made her gag. Rex whined, hips jerking forward, thrusting shallowly as she bobbed, taking more of the hot length down her throat, saliva mixing with pre-cum to drool down her chin.
Emma whimpered softly, but she didn't look away, her hand inching closer as if drawn by some invisible thread. Lila pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her lips to the throbbing cock, and guided Emma's head forward. "Your turn. Just the tip at first."
The girl's tears welled again, spilling over as she opened her mouth tentatively, her full lips brushing the pointed end. Rex thrust eagerly, making her jolt back, but Lila's hand on the back of her neck held gentle pressure. "Easy. Breathe through your nose." Emma tried again, taking the head in, her tongue flicking hesitantly, eyes squeezing shut as the flavor hit her. She gagged almost immediately, pulling back to cough, saliva dripping from her chin onto her dress. "It's too much... tastes awful."
"Keep going," Carl barked from the side, his voice thick with arousal. "Deeper, or you're wasting time."
Lila shot him a glance as if to say 'let me handle this,' then softened her tone for Emma. "It's okay. Everyone gags at first. Try again—relax your throat." She stroked Emma's back, feeling the girl's spine tense under the thin fabric, and something stirred in Lila, a kinship forming in the shared vulnerability. This was how she'd felt, exactly, that first time with Rex, the repulsion choking her like the cock itself. But she'd pushed through, and so would Emma. The girl leaned in once more, lips wrapping around the shaft, sucking tentatively as Rex humped forward, fucking her mouth with short jabs. Emma's cheeks hollowed, tears streaming, but she didn't stop, her hand coming up to stroke the base where the knot bulged.
"Good," Lila whispered, her own breath quickening at the sight—Emma's blonde hair falling loose from her bun, bobbing with the motion, the obscene slurps filling the room. Rex's thrusts grew frantic, paws scratching the mat, and suddenly he tensed, flooding Emma's mouth with hot, bitter cum. It overflowed, spurting from the corners of her lips, trickling down her neck in thick rivulets that soaked into her dress. She choked, swallowing some instinctively, the rest coughing out as she pulled back, gasping, face a mess of saliva and seed.
"I did it," Emma rasped, wiping her mouth with a trembling hand, her blue eyes meeting Lila's with a mix of horror and... something else. A spark, faint but there, like the first throb of arousal amid the shame. Lila recognized it immediately—the body's betrayal, the way survival twisted into craving.
"You did," Lila said, pulling her into a brief hug, feeling Emma's slight frame shake against her. The contact was electric, their shared heat mingling, and Lila felt that bond solidify, two women bound by the same filthy thread. "See? Not so bad. And it gets easier."
Lila held Emma a moment longer than necessary, feeling the girl's slender body tremble against her own, the dampness of tears and cum seeping through the thin fabric of Emma's sundress into Lila's t-shirt. The hug was meant to comfort, to ease the blonde into this twisted fold, but Lila's mind raced with the heat of it—the softness of Emma's small breasts pressing against her fuller ones, the hitch in her breath that spoke of shock melting into something rawer. Emma's scent mingled with Rex's musky release, a heady mix that stirred Lila's core, her pussy clenching with a familiar ache. She'd been here, exactly here, choking down that first load, hating every bitter drop, yet here she was now, guiding another into the depths. The power surged through her like Duke's thick cock had that first time, stretching her until she yielded, and Lila savored it, her fingers lingering on Emma's back, tracing the knobs of her spine.
Emma pulled away first, her blue eyes glassy, rimmed red from crying, but there was a defiance in them too, a spark that hadn't been snuffed out yet. She wiped at her chin again, smearing the remnants of cum across her pale skin, her full lips swollen from the stretch of Rex's shaft. "Easier? How could that ever get easier?" Her voice cracked, laced with anger and betrayal, but she didn't bolt for the door. Instead, she glanced at Carl, who stood there like a sentinel, his overalls tented obscenely at the crotch, his salt-and-pepper beard hiding a smirk Lila knew was there. Emma's gaze dropped to the bulge, then flicked away, cheeks burning brighter. "This is insane. I swallowed dog cum. What kind of place is this?"
Carl shifted his weight, boots scraping the concrete, his arms uncrossing as he stepped closer. The room felt smaller with him in motion, his burly frame casting a shadow over the two women on the mat. "The kind that pays your bills and puts a roof over your head, girl. You did good with Rex. Most puke the first time." His eyes raked over Emma's stained dress, lingering where the fabric clung to her thighs, damp from spit and seed. "But that was just a taste. Afternoon's for the real work. Lila, get Spike in here. He's small—good for breaking in the rest."
Emma's head snapped up, her messy bun unraveling further, blonde strands sticking to her sweaty neck. "The rest? No, wait—I did what you asked. Hand and mouth. That's enough. I can't... I won't let one fuck me." Her words tumbled out, desperate, but her body betrayed her, knees still pressed to the mat, not rising to flee. Lila saw it—the way Emma's thighs squeezed together, perhaps unconsciously, a faint flush spreading down her chest. The repulsion was there, raw and choking, but so was the seed of curiosity, planted deep like a knot swelling inside.
Lila rose smoothly, her own legs steady now after weeks of this, the ache in her holes a constant companion she'd come to crave. She patted Emma's shoulder, her touch lingering, thumb brushing the girl's collarbone. "One step at a time. Spike's quick, not too big. I'll be right here—show you how." Her voice was gentle, coaxing, but inside, excitement coiled tight in her belly, hot and insistent. Breaking Emma wasn't just about the dogs; it was about peeling away those layers of innocence, layer by sticky layer, until the girl begged for the fullness, just like Lila had learned to. She opened the side door, and Spike bounded in, the Terrier mix a bundle of wiry energy, his pink cock already half-out, sniffing the air thick with the scent of cum and arousal.
Emma scrambled back on her hands, ass scooting across the mat, her sundress riding up to expose pale panties dotted with moisture—whether from fear-sweat or something else, Lila couldn't tell yet. "No, please... I can't have a dog inside me. That's... that's fucked up. Wrong." Her pleas were whispered, broken, but Carl was there in a flash, his calloused hand gripping her arm, hauling her back to center.
"You can walk out anytime," he growled, breath hot on her ear, his free hand adjusting his straining cock through the overalls. "But think hard, girl. No ride, no job elsewhere in this shithole town. Or stay, spread those legs, and earn your keep." He released her roughly, stepping back to watch, his eyes dark with lust.
Lila knelt beside Emma again, her hand sliding to the girl's thigh, pushing the dress higher, fingers brushing the edge of those damp panties. Emma flinched but didn't slap her away, her breath coming in pants now, chest heaving under the thin fabric. "It's scary at first," Lila murmured, her green eyes locking on Emma's blue ones, freckle to freckle. "I cried too, begged to stop. But it passes. The stretch... it burns, then it feels full, like nothing else. Trust me." Lies laced with truth; Lila remembered the terror, the way Duke's cock had speared her, tearing at her soul, but now? Now she'd ride them willingly, grinding down until the knot locked and she screamed her release.
Spike was on Emma in seconds, his small paws scratching at her calves, snout burrowing under the dress, cold nose pressing against her panty-clad pussy. Emma gasped, legs clamping shut, but the dog's tongue darted out, lapping at the fabric, tasting her fear and the faint slickness seeping through. "Oh god, stop... it's licking me." Her voice hitched, a whimper escaping as the rough tongue dragged over the cotton, the sensation invasive, electric.
"Pull 'em aside," Carl ordered, his voice rougher now, hand palming his bulge openly. "Let him taste proper. Preps you."
Lila's fingers hooked into Emma's panties before the girl could protest, yanking them to the side, exposing her bare pussy—pink folds glistening slightly, a well-groomed tuft of blonde hair above her clit. Emma cried out, trying to close her legs, but Lila held them open, her grip firm on the inner thighs, feeling the muscles quiver. Spike dove in, tongue lashing over her slit, delving between the lips to lap at her entrance, the wet sounds obscene in the dim room. Emma's hips bucked involuntarily, a moan slipping past her clenched teeth despite the tears streaming down her face. "No... it feels weird... dirty."
But her body responded, clit swelling under the relentless licks, juices flowing freer as the dog's broad tongue flicked over it again and again. Lila watched, mesmerized, her own pussy throbbing in sympathy, dampening her jeans. "See? Your body's made for it. Just let go." She guided Emma onto her back, dress bunched at her waist, legs spread wide as Spike feasted, his tail wagging furiously.
Emma's hands fisted the mat, nails digging in, her head thrashing side to side. "I hate this... hate how it feels good." The admission was whispered, broken, but it was there—the crack in her armor, the repulsion warring with the building heat in her core.
Emma's admission hung in the air like a confession ripped from her throat, her body betraying her words even as they spilled out. Her hips twitched under Spike's relentless tongue, the rough, sandpaper texture dragging over her clit again and again, sending jolts that made her toes curl against the mat. The Terrier's snout was buried deep, his hot breath puffing against her exposed folds, lapping up the slick that seeped from her despite the sobs wracking her chest. Lila watched it all, her hand still firm on Emma's thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh to keep her spread wide. The sight of the girl's pussy glistening, pink and swollen, under the dog's assault stirred something feral in Lila—a mix of envy and triumph, like she was sculpting Emma into her own image, stroke by wet stroke.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Lila whispered, her voice husky, leaning closer until her breath ghosted over Emma's ear. The blonde's eyes fluttered open, blue depths clouded with confusion and that burgeoning heat, tears streaking her freckled cheeks. She shook her head weakly, but her hips rolled up, pressing her cunt harder against Spike's muzzle, a soft whine escaping her lips that mirrored the dog's eager yips.
"No... I don't want... oh fuck," Emma gasped, her hands flying to her face, covering her eyes as if blocking the sight could erase the sensation. But her body didn't lie; her clit throbbed visibly, peeking from its hood, red and begging as the tongue flicked it mercilessly. Cum from Rex still lingered on her chin, drying in flaky patches, but now fresh juices coated Spike's fur, matting it dark. Lila's own cunt clenched at the view, her jeans damp at the crotch, the ache from her morning teases with Bruno flaring anew. She wanted to dive in herself, taste Emma's reluctance turning sweet, but patience—Carl had taught her that. Break them slow, make them beg.
Carl grunted from his spot against the wall, his hand now openly stroking the thick outline of his cock through the overalls, the fabric straining over his bulge. "She's wet as a bitch in heat. Mount her, boy." He snapped his fingers, and Spike responded instinctively, his small paws scrambling up Emma's thighs, claws scratching red lines into her pale skin. The dog's cock was fully out now—pink, veiny, tapered to a point that dripped pre-cum like a leaky faucet, the knot at the base already hinting at its swell. He humped the air frantically, jabbing at her inner thigh, leaving slick trails on her dress.
Emma's hands dropped from her face, panic surging as she tried to close her legs, but Lila was there, pinning them open with her knees, her weight settling over the girl like a blanket of inevitability. "Shh, easy. Let him in. It'll hurt less if you relax." Lila's words were a lie wrapped in kindness; she remembered her first, the burn like fire, but the fullness that followed, the way it filled the empty places inside. Emma thrashed her head, blonde hair splaying wild on the mat, her bun completely undone now, but her struggles were half-hearted, weakened by the tongue's earlier work. Spike found his mark, the pointed tip prodding her entrance, slick with her own betrayal.
"Please, no—don't let him fuck me," Emma begged, her voice breaking into a sob, eyes locking on Lila's with desperate plea. But Lila just nodded, her hand sliding down to guide the dog's cock, fingers wrapping around the hot, pulsing length to align it with Emma's cunt. The heat of it seared her palm, familiar and thrilling, and she pushed forward, watching as the tip breached, sinking inch by inch into the tight heat.
Emma arched off the mat with a sharp cry, her walls clenching around the invading shaft, the stretch burning like she'd been split open. "It hurts! Oh god, it's inside me—take it out!" But Spike didn't care; his hips jackhammered forward, rutting with frantic speed, the veiny cock pistoning in and out, dragging against her inner walls with wet, squelching sounds that filled the room. Lila held her down, one hand on Emma's hip, the other stroking the girl's clit in slow circles, thumbing the swollen nub to mix pain with sparks of pleasure.
"Breathe through it," Lila murmured, her face inches from Emma's, watching every flicker— the widening eyes, the parted lips gasping for air, the flush spreading down her neck to her small tits heaving under the dress. Spike's thrusts were relentless, his small frame allowing him to pound deep, the knot bumping her lips with each jab, demanding entry. Emma's cries turned to moans, choked and unwilling, her body rocking with the force, pussy clenching greedily now as the burn faded into a throbbing fullness.
Emma's blue eyes gazed up at Lila pleadingly, ringed with red from crying. The front buttons of her sundress had come undone from the frenetic scramble of the dog's front paws grasping for purchase. One of her small breasts lay exposed, jiggling with every thrust of the dog's rutting. The girl's face twisting in a dueling mask of disgust and pleasure. The sight fueled Lila; she leaned down, capturing Emma's lips in a rough kiss, tongue forcing entry like Spike's cock below, tasting the salt of tears and the lingering bitterness of Rex's load. Emma whimpered into the kiss, but her tongue responded, tangling weakly, her hands clutching Lila's shirt as if for anchor.
Spike's knot swelled fully, pressing insistently, and with a final thrust, it popped in, locking them tight. Emma screamed into Lila's mouth, the stretch immense, her cunt stretched around the bulbous base like a vice, trapping the pulsing cock inside. The dog ground against her, short humps now, flooding her with hot spurts of cum that filled her to overflowing, leaking out around the knot in thick dribbles down her ass crack. The pressure hit something deep in Emma, her clit grinding against the dog's fur, and she shattered—multiple orgasms crashing over her in waves, chaining together—another cresting before the last had fully subsided, her walls milking the knot dry, her cries muffled by Lila's lips as she bucked wildly.
Minutes stretched as the tie held her fast, Spike panting over her, his weight light but pinning. Emma's body trembled, aftershocks rippling through her, tears fresh on her lashes. When the knot finally deflated with a wet suck, Spike pulled free, and cum gushed from her in a torrent, pooling under her ass on the mat. She lay there, spent, pussy gaping slightly, red and slick, her panties twisted aside like a forgotten restraint.
Lila pulled back, licking her lips, tasting Emma on them. "You came. Hard." It wasn't an accusation, but a fact, her green eyes gleaming with approval. Emma turned her face away, sobbing quietly, but her hips twitched still, chasing the ghost of fullness.
"I... I didn't mean to. It just... happened." Emma's voice was small, broken, but Lila heard the crack—the repulsion cracking under the weight of pleasure.
Carl chuckled, "One down. More to go. Lila, fetch Duke. Let's see how she handles a big one."
Emma's body still quivered on the mat, her sundress a twisted ruin around her waist, an exposed breast heaving with ragged breaths that filled the dim room like echoes of her shattered cries. The air reeked of cum and sweat, thick and cloying, clinging to her skin where Spike's seed leaked from her stretched cunt in slow, viscous trails down her ass cheeks, pooling warm and sticky beneath her. She lay there, legs splayed wide, panties yanked aside to expose the raw, puffy lips of her pussy, glistening with a mix of dog cum and her own shameful slick. Her clit poked out, swollen and red from the friction, twitching faintly as aftershocks rippled through her core. Duke? The name Carl tossed out like a casual command hit her like a gut punch, her blue eyes widening in fresh terror as she pushed herself up on elbows that wobbled like a fawn's legs.
"No... please, not another," Emma rasped, her voice hoarse from the screams she'd muffled into Lila's kiss, her full lips bruised and slick with saliva. She tugged at her dress, trying to cover the jiggling tit, the nipple hard and pebbled against the cool air, but her fingers fumbled, numb from the overload. Disgust churned in her stomach, a sour wave that made her want to puke—the dog's cock had been inside her, rutting like she was nothing but a hole, and worse, she'd come, her body clenching around that veiny shaft, milking every hot spurt until she saw stars. How could she? It was filthy, wrong, a betrayal that burned hotter than the ache in her stretched hole. But beneath it, that treacherous warmth lingered, a pulse in her clit that begged for more, whispering that the fullness had chased away the emptiness of her broke, aimless life.
Lila stood over her, auburn ponytail swaying as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tasting the salt of Emma's tears on her tongue. The kiss had been impulsive, a surge of dominance that made Lila's own pussy throb, her jeans soaked through at the crotch where her folds ached for friction. Watching Emma break—those wide eyes glazing over as the knot locked in, her hips bucking like a whore in heat—had ignited something fierce in Lila, a hunger to push further, to mold this fragile blonde into a willing bitch like herself. No hesitation now; the power coursed through her veins, hot and unyielding, drowning out the faint echoes of her own first-day revulsion. She was the guide, the corrupter, and it felt right, like claiming a piece of the kennel's dark heart for herself.
"Fetch Duke," Carl repeated, his gravel voice thick with lust, his hand squeezing the bulge in his overalls, the outline of his thick cock straining the fabric like it might rip free. His salt-and-pepper beard hid a leer, but his eyes—dark and hungry—fixed on Emma's leaking cunt, watching a fresh dribble of cum ooze out as she shifted. He wanted this, needed to see the small girl take the massive Mastiff, her tiny frame dwarfed and filled until she begged. But Lila shot him a look, green eyes sharp—let me lead. She'd earned this, broken her own barriers under his watch, and now Emma was hers to shatter with the same ruthless efficiency.
Lila moved to the side door, her boots thudding softly on the concrete, heart pounding with anticipation. Duke lumbered in as soon as she unlatched it, the Mastiff mix a beast of wet-earth fur and rippling muscle, his dark eyes locking onto Emma with an intensity that made the air hum. His tail swished low, snout twitching at the scent of fresh-fucked pussy, his massive cock already peeking from its sheath—thick as a wrist, veiny and red, dripping pre that splattered the floor. Emma scrambled back on her ass, the mat scraping her skin, her sundress tangling further as she tried to close her legs, but the cum-slick made her thighs slip apart, exposing her again.
"He's too big! It'll tear me—please, Lila, don't make me," Emma pleaded, her voice pitching high, tears carving clean paths through the grime on her cheeks. Her small tits heaved under the half-undone dress, the exposed one bouncing with her panic, nipple stiff like it remembered the dog's paws. Repulsion hit her fresh, a wave that made her stomach heave—she could still feel Spike's knot stretching her, the hot flood filling her belly, and now this monster? It would split her open, ruin her forever. But her pussy clenched at the thought, a traitorous spasm that leaked more cum, her body already conditioned by that first brutal orgasm, craving the invasion despite her mind's screams.
Lila knelt beside her again, gripping Emma's chin firmly, forcing those blue eyes to meet her green ones. Freckle to freckle, they stared, Lila's gaze unyielding, laced with a twisted empathy born from her own falls. "You can take him. I did, my first day. Hurt like hell, but then... it owns you. Fills you up until nothing else matters." Her words were raw, direct, no sugarcoating—the burn of that stretch, the way Duke's cock had speared her, dragging against every nerve until she came crying. She yanked Emma's dress higher, fully exposing her lower half, then hooked fingers into the twisted panties and ripped them off with a sharp tear, the fabric giving way to bare her completely. Emma gasped, hands flying to cover her mound, but Lila batted them away, spreading her thighs wide with rough hands that dug into the soft flesh.
Duke advanced, his cold nose burrowing straight into Emma's exposed cunt, the broad tongue lapping up the leaking cum with long, possessive swipes that made her jolt. The roughness scraped over her sensitive folds, delving into the gaped entrance where Spike's seed still pooled, cleaning her with feral hunger. Emma's hips bucked, a cry ripping from her throat—"Ahh, no, it's too rough!"—but her clit swelled under the assault, the tongue flicking it mercilessly, sending electric shocks that made her toes curl. Disgust twisted her face, lips curling in revulsion at the animal's hot breath puffing against her most intimate place, but her body arched, pressing closer, juices flowing fresh to mix with the cum.
"See? He wants you bad," Lila murmured, her hand sliding up Emma's thigh to part her lips further, exposing the pink inner walls for Duke's tongue to plunge deeper. The dog growled low, lapping inside her, the wet slurps echoing obscenely, his snout bumping her clit with each thrust. Emma's moans escaped unbidden, choked and hating, her small hands fisting Lila's shirt as waves built in her core. "Fuck... it feels... I can't stop it," she whimpered, tears streaming, her hips rolling now, grinding against the muzzle like a slut.
Carl watched, eyes darting to survey the action, his breaths heavy. "Mount her, boy. Breed that tight hole." But Lila shook her head slightly— not yet. She wanted Emma begging, broken with alacrity, the submission swift and complete. Her fingers joined the tongue, circling Emma's clit with rough pinches that made the girl yelp, then sob as pleasure spiked. Duke's licks grew frantic, tongue delving deep, tasting her depths, and Emma shattered again—her back arching off the mat, a scream tearing free as cum squirted around the dog's snout, mixing with his saliva in a messy spray.
Before the aftershocks faded, Lila positioned her—flipping Emma onto all fours, ass up, face pressed to the mat where the cum puddle smeared her cheek. "Take him like this. Easier entry." Emma's knees trembled, her small frame quivering, but she didn't fight, the orgasms sapping her resistance, leaving only the raw need pulsing in her cunt. Duke mounted her in one heavy lunge, his massive weight pinning her down, paws gripping her slim waist with claws that pricked her skin, drawing tiny beads of blood. His cock prodded her entrance, thick and insistent, the pointed tip finding her slick hole and thrusting in with brutal force.
Emma's scream echoed, raw and guttural—"It's splitting me! Too big, fuck, take it out!"—the stretch burning like fire, her walls forced apart by the veiny girth that filled her inch by merciless inch. Duke rutted deep, hips slamming forward, the shaft dragging against her g-spot with each jab, sparks of pain-laced pleasure exploding in her core. She clawed the mat, nails breaking, tears soaking the padding, repulsion surging at the furred belly slapping her ass, the hot pants against her neck. This was degradation, pure and animal—fucked like a bitch by a beast twice her size. But her pussy clenched greedily, milking the invading cock, her hips pushing back despite the sobs, chasing the fullness that obliterated thought.
Lila knelt in front, gripping Emma's chin again, forcing her to watch in the cracked mirror propped against the wall—the reflection of her small body rocking under the massive dog, tits jiggling free from the dress, face contorted in ecstasy and horror. "Look at you taking it. You're made for this." Lila's free hand slid under, fingering Emma's clit roughly, pinching the nub as Duke pounded harder, the knot swelling at her lips, bumping with each thrust like a battering ram.
"No... the knot... I can't take it, I--," Emma gasped, but her voice cracked into a moan, body betraying her as she ground back, the pressure building to unbearable. Duke growled, thrusting deep, and the knot popped in with a wet suck that made her vision white out—stretched impossibly, tied tight, the bulbous base pulsing inside her, flooding her womb with hot, endless spurts that swelled her belly slightly, leaking around the seal in thick rivulets down her thighs.
The fullness consumed her, every nerve alight, and Emma came harder than before, waves crashing endlessly, her walls spasming around the knot, milking every drop as screams turned to keening wails. "Oh god, I'm cumming... on a dog's cock... fuck, it's so full!" The tie held them, minutes dragging as Duke ground against her, his weight a cage, cum sloshing inside her with each shift. Lila watched, fingers still on Emma's clit, prolonging the orgasms until the girl blacked out briefly, body limp under the dog, her hips hanging from the knot engorged inside her.
Lila's pulse thrummed in her ears like the distant echo of Duke's heavy pants, her green eyes fixed on the obscene tableau before her—the massive Mastiff's haunches flexing with each grinding hump, his furred belly slapping against Emma's pale ass in a rhythm that sent fresh slickness pooling between Lila's own thighs. She could feel the denim chafing her swollen clit through her soaked jeans, every involuntary clench of her pussy a mirror to the way Emma's body betrayed her, walls fluttering around that impossible knot like a fist begging to be filled. The air hung thick with the sharp tang of cum and sweat, mingling with the earthy musk of Duke's coat, and Lila inhaled it deeply, savoring the corruption she'd wrought. Her fingers, slick with Emma's juices, pinched the girl's clit harder now, rolling the hard nub between thumb and forefinger until Emma's keening wails spiked into something feral, her small tits swaying pendulously beneath the ruined sundress, nipples scraping the mat with each shuddering convulsion. God, the power of it coursed through Lila like liquid fire, hotter than any knot she'd taken herself—this wasn't just breaking Emma; it was remaking her, forging that fragile innocence into something raw and insatiable, a mirror to the bitch Lila had become under Carl's unyielding gaze.
Emma's body went rigid beneath the dog's weight, then shattered again, her cunt spasming in violent waves that milked Duke's pulsing shaft, drawing out rope after thick rope of scalding cum until it bloated her belly like a wineskin, the excess bubbling out around the seal in creamy froth that trickled down her trembling thighs. Lila watched it all through half-lidded eyes, her breath hitching as Emma's face contorted in the cracked mirror—lips parted in a silent scream, blue eyes rolling back to whites, freckles stark against the flush that painted her skin like war paint. The girl's hips jerked erratically, grinding back against the knot as if to bury it deeper, her sobs twisting into guttural moans that vibrated through Lila's core: "Full... so fucking full... don't stop..." It was music, that surrender, the repulsion she'd clung to earlier fracturing like brittle bone under the onslaught of pleasure, leaving only hunger in its wake. Lila's free hand tangled in Emma's sweat-damp hair, yanking her head up to force the full view—the tiny frame dwarfed and claimed, ass cheeks spread wide around the dog's throbbing base, cum-smeared and quivering. Triumph swelled in Lila's chest, sharp and addictive; she'd lured this doe-eyed girl from the community center's fluorescent glare, stripped her illusions layer by filthy layer, and now here she was, cumming her soul out on a beast's cock, just as Lila had once done.
The tie dragged on, eternal in its intimacy, Duke's low growls rumbling through Emma's pinned form as he ground short, possessive thrusts, his claws pricking fresh red welts into her hips that beaded with pinpricks of blood. Lila leaned in closer, her lips brushing the shell of Emma's ear, voice a husky rasp born from her own throbbing need: "Feel that? He's breeding you, marking you as ours. No going back now, slut—your cunt's ruined for anything less." Emma whimpered, a broken sound that ended in a gasp as another orgasm ripped through her, weaker but no less devastating, her walls clamping down to wring the last pulses from the knot, body limp and fever-hot under the Mastiff's bulk. Lila's fingers slowed on the clit, teasing now, drawing out the aftershocks until Emma's thighs quaked uncontrollably. The sight hit Lila like a drug, stoking the fire in her gut, her pussy clenching emptily around nothing, aching to be stuffed and knotted herself. But this was Emma's descent, her victory; Lila reveled in the control, the way the girl's glazed eyes sought hers in the mirror, pleading not for mercy but for more, the spark of addiction flickering bright behind the tears.
When the knot finally softened with a lewd, sucking pop, Duke dismounted in a heavy slide, his cock pulling free with a gush of pent-up seed that erupted from Emma's gaped hole in a frothy cascade, splattering her calves and soaking the mat into a dark, sticky morass. She collapsed forward, cheek smearing into the mess, her sundress a sodden rag clinging to her sweat-slicked skin, small breasts fully bared now and heaving with sobs that bordered on laughter—hysterical, unhinged. Cum oozed from her ruined pussy in lazy rivulets, her lips puffy and inverted, clit still twitching like a live wire as her hips gave faint, involuntary twitches toward the empty air. Lila knelt beside her, one hand stroking the blonde's quivering flank, feeling the gooseflesh rise under her palm, the other dipping between her own legs to press against her denim-clad ache, a low groan escaping her throat at the friction. Emma's eyes fluttered open, hazy and wrecked, locking onto Lila's with a raw, unspoken plea: "More... god, I need more," the words slurring out in a whisper hoarse from screaming, her body curling instinctively toward the touch like a pup seeking warmth. Lila's triumph crested then, a savage bloom in her chest—she'd shattered the girl with ruthless precision, swift as a blade through silk, and in those fractured blue depths, she saw her own reflection: willing, depraved, utterly claimed by the kennel's unyielding hunger.