The air surrounding the industrial district was a living thing now, thick and heavy, wrapping around me like a damp cloak as we trudged deeper into its rusted heart, the scent of oil and decaying metal clinging to every breath, making my lungs feel like they were chewing on grit.
Nara skipped ahead, her ears twitching with every distant clang or hiss. Her bubbly energy was a stark contrast to the oppressive gloom, tail twitching playfully as if the labyrinth of dangling chains and shadowed corners was just another grand playground for her and her kin.
Speaking of which, those bunnies—gods, those eerie little monsters—scuttled around us, their white fur catching the light in flashes, their eyes glinting like tiny, judgmental stars. I couldn't shake the image of them tearing into that wolfish man, a memory that made my stomach lurch even as I tried to focus on the path ahead.
"You know, Callie, you walk like you're expecting the floor to open up and swallow you," she teased, glancing back with those fiery red eyes, her voice dripping with amusement as she spun on her heel.
I rolled my eyes, but inside I was weighing the odds—could I trust this girl who treated bounty hunters like minor annoyances, or was I just a fool being charmed by her personality?
Opportunity, I told myself, sensing a chance to learn more about this city from someone who seemed to navigate it with brutal efficiency. But gods, her teasing was relentless, and I was starting to enjoy it more than I should.
Salem would be having a field day about this, no doubt muttering something regarding my knack for finding the most inconvenient of allies.
My mind drifted closer to him, wondering if he'd made it to the Canal District yet. Every instinct screamed at me to reach him as fast as possible, to close the distance before whatever hunters were trailing us could interfere again. However, the truth made itself clear. I was completely and utterly lost.
I pushed the thought away, instead focusing on the sprawling maze ahead of me, its catwalks creaking overhead like the complaints of an old man, chains swaying gently in the warm drafts that smelled of hot oil and something faintly sour, like regret left to fester.
Nara's chatter filled the silence, a bright thread of sound in the gloom, weaving tales of hidden nooks and forgotten machines as we pressed deeper.
"Watch this corner—twice I almost tripped over a coil of wire no taller than my knee," she whispered, voice bouncing between excitement and mischief. "And that stack of crates? Don't even think about it—there's a whole nest of rats living in the shadows behind it. I swear one of them stared at me like it knew my name." The air grew warmer, heavier, pressing against my skin like an unwanted embrace.
Then suddenly, she stopped dead before whipping around so fast she nearly knocked over a rusted can. Her nose began wrinkling as she sniffed the air, ears perked high like antennae locked on a signal.
I froze, watching as she stepped closer to me, her movements slow and deliberate, eyes narrowing with that teasing glint that made my pulse quicken. Closer she came, her breaths audible now, until—saints preserve me—she leaned in, her nose just inches from my chest before trailing lower, so low in fact that when she was done she was practically nuzzling my crotch, taking a long, exaggerated whiff that ended in a soft, almost theatrical moan.
My face burned hotter than the forges that once roared behind me, my mind a chaotic jumble of embarrassment and confusion as she straightened up, smirking like she'd just won a bet.
"Well, well, Callie," she said, her voice thick with snark, "you're male, aren't you? No amount of frilly disguises can hide that kind of scent."
I stood there, flustered beyond reason, my jaw working soundlessly as I tried to process her words, my inner monologue screaming—how the hell could she tell?
Was my disguise that flimsy, or was her nose a product of some beastfolk superpower? I'd spent weeks perfecting this feminine facade, softening my voice, adjusting my gait, and now this girl was sniffing out my secrets like a bloodhound in a butcher shop.
"What—what are you talking about?" I stammered, my cheeks flaming as I took a step back, my hands flapping uselessly in protest.
She giggled, a bright, bell-like sound that echoed off the walls, ears twitching with delight as she rocked back on her heels. "Oh, come on Callie, you practically reek of semen."
The statement hit me like a runaway cart, my eyes widening as I choked on my own spit, the comedic horror of it washing over me — semen?
Gods, was she serious, or was this just her twisted sense of humor.
"That's... that's not a thing people just say," I managed, my voice cracking as I tried to regain some semblance of dignity.
She simply laughed again, spinning away with a flourish, her tail twitching dismissively as she continued onward, leaving me to follow with a newfound wariness. My steps grew more cautious as I eyed her back, wondering what other surprises she had up her sleeve.
And yet, despite her teasing, there was another air about her, a charged energy made manifest through the occasional brush of her hand against my arm, warm and fleeting, sending sparks throughout my body that I fought to ignore.
Alongside this, she was panting, rather noticeably might I add, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts, sweat beading on her forehead and trickling down her neck, catching the light like tiny jewels against her pale skin.
She began dodging my glances, her cheeks flushing a soft pink that deepened with each step. I couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside that wild head of hers.
As we entered an abandoned factory, its vast interior filled with silent machines draped in dust, their shadows looming like sleeping giants, she started talking about her childhood. Her voice was light yet tinged with a hint of nostalgia.
"Used to sneak into places like this when I was a kid, visiting the city with my family—loved the way the machines hummed, like they were telling stories," she said, ears twitching as she ran a hand along a rusted conveyor belt.
I seized the chance to steer things back to practicality, my thoughts urging me to stay focused despite her distracting energy.
"Nara, can you show me the way to the Canal District? I've got someone waiting, and I can't afford to keep him hanging." My tone was firm, but inside I was skeptical. The ring began clicking again, its number growing lower by the second, reminding me about the urgency of my situation.
She brushed off the question with a wave of her hand, her panting growing wilder, her chest heaving as she flashed that teasing smile again.
"Oh, Callie, why rush off? Stick with me—it's safer, and my kin can handle any trouble that comes knocking."
Her words were convincing, but her feverish gaze and the sweat soaking through her clothes, making them cling to her curves, told a different story, one I wasn't sure I wanted to read.
I hesitated, my mind wrestling with the idea of staying in opposition to fleeing the scene, bouncing between the two like like a comedic debate — sure, she's got a point, but Salem's not exactly the patient type, and I'd rather not face his wrath.
"Thanks Nara, but I really need to go," I said, turning toward what I hoped was an exit, my boots scraping against the gritty floor. However, before I could take even three steps, she yanked at my hand, her grip surprisingly strong, pulling me back with a force that made me stumble. Her touch was warm and electric.
"Hey! What's with the grabby hands?" I called her out, spinning to face her. My brow furrowed as her blush deepened to a crimson that matched her eyes, sweat rolling down her temples as she mumbled an apology. Her voice was breathy and unsteady.
"Sorry, I just... didn't want you to leave yet."
I crossed my arms, eyeing her suspiciously, the comedic absurdity of the moment weighing down on me. "You've been acting weird this entire time Nara—panting, sweating, those sneaky glances. What's the deal?"
Inside, I was piecing it together, wondering if this was some kind of beastfolk quirk or just her playing a deeper game. She shifted uncomfortably, tail twitching a little harder now, ears drooping as she averted her gaze.
"I-I can't help it," she admitted, her voice small, stripped of its usual snark. I raised an eyebrow, waiting, my curiosity battling my urgency to move on.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping, and finally blurted out, "I'm in heat, okay?"
I froze, letting the words hang in the air like a bad punchline. Her ears flattened completely then as she peeked up at me, mortified but honest, her blush so intense I half-expected steam to rise from her cheeks.
Then I sighed, shaking my head, my thoughts a mix of exasperation and amusement— of course, in heat, because why wouldn't my day include this particular complication? I'd dodged bounty hunters and killer bunnies, only to land in a derelict factory with a beastfolk girl ready to combust from her own biology.
"Gods, how do I get myself into these messes?" I muttered, running a hand through my hair, wondering if the universe was having a laugh at my expense.
When I looked back up, she was already undressing herself, her fingers tugging at her shirt's ties with a frantic urgency, the fabric slipping off her shoulders to reveal sweat-slicked skin that shimmered in the dim light. Her movements were so sudden I lunged forward to stop her, my hand outstretched in protest.
"Nara, hold on—!" But before I could take another step, her skirt hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving her completely bare. Her skin was pale and flushed with heat, her small, perky breasts rising with each ragged breath, nipples taut against the cool air. Her waist curved into hips that swayed slightly, as if her body couldn't stay still, tapering into legs that were strong and lean, like that of a practiced runner's.
More sweat began glistening paths down her neck, pooling in the hollow of her collarbone and trailing between her breasts before rolling lower down to her stomach and the patch of soft, red fur at the apex of her thighs.
And then there was her scent, gods her scent. It was fearl, hitting me like a wave—musky, wild, with a sweet undercurrent like blooming flowers after rain. It was both intoxicating and primal, stirring a heat in me I fought to suppress.
My mind began screaming — this is insane, Salem's waiting for me, and I'm not this reckless, right?—but my body disagreed with my thoughts, my pulse racing harder as her animalistic scent enveloped me, making me throb beneath my pants.
I didn't dare move, frozen in place as the comedic horror of the moment clashed with an unwelcome surge of desire.
She began walking up to me slowly, her bare feet silent against the concrete, crimson eyes locked onto mine with pleading intensity. Her right hand reached out ever so gently, resting against my chest. Her touch began burning through my shirt, nails grazing lightly as she leaned in closer.
"Please, I really need this right now," she whispered, her voice husky with desperation, breath hot against my skin. Her body was trembling now, from restraint or anticipation, I couldn't tell.
I groaned, looking up at the rusted ceiling, seeking some divine intervention in the beams above, yet the traitorous part of my heart—and lower—refused to resist. When I looked back down, she was already undoing my pants, her fingers deft and urgent, tugging at the fastenings with a determination that made my breath hitch.
"Wait, stop it Nara," I begged. She didn't respond, rather she collapsed to her knees, nose flaring as she began taking whiffs of my cock, cheeks flushing deeper as she leaned closer. The ghosting of her breath against my skin hit me in ways that made me twitch.
My body played into the moment without thought. Carefully, I reached out to her before rubbing my cock against her cheek, a bold move that made her giggle slightly, ears twitching as she called me out for the act.
"How naughty~I knew you wanted this," she purred, voice rolling off her tongue like she'd just caught me red-handed stealing sweets from a market stall. Then her nose began brushing lower, trailing the base of my cock before, without warning, she began sucking on that sensitive part of skin right below the shaft.
"Hah~! Fuck," I gasped. I couldn't help it, her lips were too soft, too warm, I was practically melting into her.
Nara's fingers began working furiously between her thighs to ease her own needs. In the shifting light, I caught fleeting strands of something — glistening threads that clung to her fingers like spider's silk — before she flexed her hand, and the shine vanished into shadow with a faint squelch.
"Gods, Nara, you're... too much," I muttered, my voice rough, my inner monologue a comedic lament — this is so wrong, but it feels so right, and Salem's going to kill me for it.
Suddenly, without thinking, I grabbed Nara by the hair pulling her back before yanking her down and shoving my cock deep into her throat, the motion was rough, almost desperate. She gagged a little as her throat convulsed, tightening around me.
"Mmmph~"She let out, her muffled cry wet and warm with pure, unfiltered desire.
I let out a groan that I couldn't hold back. It felt like she was sucking the air right out of my lungs. I kept my hand in her hair, guiding her movements as I began slamming myself deeper, her tongue rolling across the underside of my shaft.
"Fuck, Nara, you're throat is so tight," I growled, my voice rough and restrained. Her name felt like a curse on my lips, but it was one I wanted to keep repeating over and over again. She hummed in response, the vibration sending shockwaves through me. I knew I wouldn't last much longer.
As if she could read my thoughts, she pulled back with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to me for a brief second before it broke between us. She gasped for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but her eyes never left mine as she began to stand again.
We were like that for a long moment, letting the hushed sound of our breathing fill the room before she began leaning in closer again. Then I felt her hand wrapping around my cock as she began whispering in my ear.
"I haven't felt this good in ages. Bet you've been aching to breed a little bunny bitch like me for a while now haven't you~?" she teased as her fingers began moving with a rhythm that made my head spin.
However, I wouldn't let her have the moment. In one fluid motion I snatched her up by the thighs. She giggled in surprise before wrapping her legs around my lower back by instinct, body tightening as I hovered just above her.
The tension then was damn near unbearable. I let it stretch between us before lowering her slowly onto my cock, inch by shuttering inch.
"Hahhh~!" She gasped, high and breathy, as I entered her and began thrusting deep. Her warmth enveloped me as the factory's shadows seemed to pulse with our rhythm.
Gods, the way she felt—her insides were like velvet, hot and slick, gripping me with every movement. I could hear the wet sounds of our bodies connecting, the slap of skin on skin, the muffled gasps and moans that filled the air.
I began working her harder. She began drooling slightly, letting her saliva drip down her tongue and pool unto the curve of her breasts.
"Please, more," I could hear her say between broken gasps.
I leaned in closer and couldn't help catching her scent again. It was darker now, curling around me in ways that made me want to burst right then and there.
"Nara, fuck, you smell so good," I couldn't help saying, the words alone leaving a coiled tension deep in my gut.
I groaned, my thrusts growing even harder, deeper, my mind screaming—fuck, we shouldn't be doing this—but her begging undid me. She began whimpering into my shoulder, thanking me over and over again for pounding into her and breeding her to satisfaction.
She was close now—so close—and the thought of her falling apart beneath me was enough to push me closer to the edge.
Suddenly, without warning, it happened.
"Arugh!" I said, a deep, guttural groan escaping me as I buried myself deep inside of her, feeling the hot rush of my release as I began violently filling her insides.
She came next, her body arching away from me, a high-pitched cry escaping her lips as her inner walls tightened around me, milking every ounce of pleasure from my body. I clamped a hand over her mouth as she did so, shushing her as her eyes widened, then softened, nodding as she gasped into the air when I let go.
Then I began lifting her from myself, breath ragged, her body still trembling as the weight of my mess began spilling out of her and splattering onto the floor.
I set her down carefully, my inner monologue a mix of guilt and amusement — well, that just happened.
"Satisfied?" I asked, my voice dry, trying to reclaim some semblance of control.
She moved behind me slowly, her steps precise, her voice a soft, "Mmm~ Maybe, hehe. Don't look now, okay?"
I complied, but then a smirk tugged at my lips, already knowing she was heading for her discarded clothing, the comedic absurdity of the moment settling in as I stood there.
Welp, here comes the part I'd been dreading.
In that very instant, she spun on me with terrifying speed, a dagger slicing through the dim light like a streak of silver death, the tip aimed unerringly at the hollow of my throat.