This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
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Fyr hid from her family. She wasn't proud of it but it proved easy enough to beg off whatever it was that they wanted her to do -- she didn't really care, as long as she didn't have to be involved -- with the arrival of the new animals. She'd even had to get herself up and astride a horse again for the first time to manage the herd of cattle, although a part of her was loathe to hire more ranch hands for the fear and concern that her family, well...
Her family was not the family she was used to: put it that way. She didn't have any idea at all what they would do to anyone else who came to the ranch or, at least, that was what she told herself as the late summer sunshine beamed down, summer easing into the autumn season so smoothly and seamlessly that it was as if one could slip into the other without a single jot of notice. Of course, there was a lot of work to do and that, at least, helped her keep her head down, a crash course in cattle to take care of on top of her earlier research and the arrival of the few, sturdy workhorses who would be able to get her to places where her truck could not.
A new off-road vehicle... Yes, that was just what she needed. As she trotted (bouncing a little, for she had not yet found a stable seat and position even in the deep curves of the Western saddle) her little paint mare along, legs hanging long and loose, she exhaled slowly and shook her head. There was a lot of terrain to cover and a lot of work to be had with managing cattle, although the ones that she'd reserved and bought, keeping away on other land while her grass grew strong and proud and lush in the meadows, came pregnant and running with their own bull. He was a fine beast but one with a temper that she had to watch out for, observing and checking over her herd after moseying her way down a slope loose with rocks and tussocks of grass that came out from the fine, sandy soil far too easily.
Her truck was good but not what she needed if she was going to at least get out to the fields -- although they were so open and covered so much terrain that it was hard to call them such -- with fencing posts and the like, all to cover the jobs that would come up and need to be done in due course. Maybe she'd have to go shopping again -- just the more fun kind of shopping than what Sasha had been indulging in of late. Fyr shuddered at the thought of what her bank account looked like (would Sasha keep her going to the state of bankruptcy? What if she spent every last cent?) and nudged her mare on, work calling her name.
There was too much to be done and she ate quickly before retreating to her room with headphones clamped firmly over her ears: a luxury spend that had been worth it for the nights of music-filled dreamland that had, at least, become hers. She knew all the latest hits, although she preferred not to listen to the radio for the gaps and breaks and lulls between songs that allowed moans and screams of demonic delight to course through the walls as if they were actively searching out just how they may break and sully the sanctity of her ears.
Her door had a lock on it now. A lock that she checked daily. Sasha had, unnervingly, told her that she was being paranoid but...just what was that supposed to mean? The look Fyr had given her in return for that comment was as flat as ever, something in the demons having taken the fight out of her, even if it was a purely passive resistance now. She simply was not going to engage, or engage with the lot of them as little as possible. Perhaps then she would survive but even that was only something that the passing of time would be able to tell. And she wasn't so sure she wanted to find out what lay at the end of the road for her.
Of course, what she didn't want was a repeat of...that night. A night so erotically dreadful that she could not pause to allow the memory of it back into her head, the tensions within the pit of her belly rising up stringently as if they were, one day, simply going to demand to be paid attention to. But, not yet. Until then, Fyr was going to keep pushing the thought of his musk and the taste of him, just how he'd felt between...
No.
She growled to herself, scattering seed and scraps -- all the good stuff -- to the geese, which she'd been assured were a damn side better than any kind of guard dog. Why was it so much easier said than done to not think about things? One just had to think, "don't think about it", and there was the thought, entirely unbidden even as she hissed at it to get the hell out of her head once again.
It was hopelessly, really and truly hopeless, and so she threw herself into even more work, ignorant to the darkening of the day into a cool, fresh night that was a relief to her aching muscles. She would not have gone so far as to say that her bones were aching (she really wasn't that old as yet and would never admit to her age to anyone who was not in her family, who already knew) but the hard work took some getting used to and she couldn't even really say that Scott was much help. Maybe she could get him to be more help if she stopped avoiding him but that in itself was quite a taller order and required her to have some strong words with herself.
No matter. She would manage. She always did.
But it was when she was packing up her truck for a trip into town -- there were a few mechanical bits that she was missing the tools to do herself at home to get down by a professional -- that things turned on their head once again, even though the dragoness could not be one-hundred-percent sure that anything was ever at all normal or settled in the slightest. It didn't matter though as long as she kept on keeping on and the like of such sayings, although she had never before held much stock in sayings.
She blinked and hesitated mid-step, eyes locking onto Kao leaning against the back of her truck as if he was posing there for her. The dragon, for once, was not naked and she'd become well-acquainted with the sight of him without his clothes on, regardless of whether or not she yet knew which way she preferred him to be. The sunshine glittered off his scales and the resemblance between him and Sasha truly was striking, taking her breath away as the seed of all their problems reared his ugly head in the souls of both of them.
How could the cougar she loved have turned both her mother and her brother against her?
But the dragoness could not know who to blame, lashing out in the privacy of her own mind in a type of rebellion that, ultimately, was destined to get her nowhere at all. There was only her brother standing there before her like a god made incarnate, although a demon was as far from anything of the divine world as it was possible to get.