Prompts: Plushy/Furry (furry, in this case)
summary: Dusty is all about making women’s wishes come true. But will anyone want to make her wishes happen?
content notes: dirty talk, foreplay, plans for the future. Not very explicit.
“You know, I kind of want… I want a girl who would just… follow. Trust me, yanno? I never thought I was all that dominant, but I guess I got some notions.”
“Baby, you have to be more specific,” Gwen said. “You always say you have to say what you want to get it. Give me a for instance.”
“Open the curtains, will you princess?” Dusty flopped into the sofa in the darkening room. Gwen pulled the cord obligingly, and stood for a moment watching the city lights wink on. The silence drew on until she turned back. Dusty was watching her. Her eyes glittered a little bit in the gloaming. “Yeah,” she said apropos of nothing.
“Dusty? Tell me,” Gwen perched on a tall stool so that the butch would have to look up at her.
Dusty looked puzzled, or embarrassed, two emotions that Gwen had never seen in her before. She looked away at last, tilting her face towards the ceiling and laughed silently. Then she spoke.
“When the Moon Sow
When the Moon Sow comes to season
Ay! She wants a big 1
Wants the Big Boar hevvy on her
Ay yee! Big Boar what makes the groun shake
Wyld of the Woodling with the wite tusk
Ay yee! That wyld big 1 for the Moon Sow.”
Gwen shivered, listening to the odd inflection, and seeing Dusty’s expression solemn for once.
She met Gwen’s eyes. “You want to be the Moon Sow, and I’ll be the Big Boar?”
“Tell me,” Gwen said.
“I want to make these costumes, like. Maybe bodysuits? Painted with black spots. I like those kinds of pigs. I gonna have the arms with closed hands, shaped like trotters. But the crotch will be wide open. And a pair of those shoes with heels that are so high you can’t stand up in them, keep you on your hands and knees. I got the way the hoods could be made in my head. They would have floppy pig ears, and gags shaped like pig snouts.”
“Both of us?” Gwen asked— quietly, so as not to break the spell. She had never heard Dusty talk this way. Dusty was the one you went to when you wanted to bottom, and she was always enthusiastic and willing. But now, she was talking about what she wanted— and such a strange thing to want!
“Yeah, I guess we’d need some help, huh?” Dusty chuckled. “Well, you know me, I wanna do this where people can be watching.”
“So, I go into season?” Gwen prompted. Dusty started up, staring into Gwen’s eyes, lit up and challenging.
“You serious, babe? Would you let people see you on your hands and knees, with a curly tail over your pussy, and eight titties hanging under you?”
Gwen snapped her mouth shut before the words came out. After a moment, she said carefully; “And what would you be doing?”
“I’d be crawling after you, with my snout as close to your ass as I can get it,” Dusty said. “With my dick hanging out for you. You ever seen a pig’s dick? It’s real long and got a corkscrew twist at the end. For reals. Pigs tails don’t really twist, but their dicks do. I want to make a harness, get a pig dick made that’s got one of those big nuts that goes into your pussy— my pussy. You ever seen a boar’s balls? Look like a pair of water balloons hanging off his butt. I’m going to feel those things banging into my legs every move I make.”
Gwen groaned aloud.
“You like that princess?” Dusty said in satisfaction. ”Hah, gotcha.”
“Tell me more,” Gwen made her voice go low.
“Pigs, it’s all about her. He might get his teeth in her but not until she gives the go ahead. It’s all about him snuffling into her twat… see if he can get her going. She decides wants it, she stands for him, and he… You have the Big Boar heavy on you.”
Smirking, she leaned back once more. “Whyn’t you c’mere, and sit on my lap.”
Gwen stood up. “We could get someone to be the keeper.” She began unbuttoning her blouse. “We could pen you up in a cage for a while.”
“And your keeper could walk you in on a chain.” Dusty suggested. “Or maybe you’ll be in the cage next to me. You turn your back and I’d be right up against the bars trying to get at the sweet thang.”
Her blouse on the floor, Gwen unbuckled her belt and undid her fly. “I could drive you fucking crazy.” She took two steps back, her hips swaying. “Crazier than you already are, even.”
“You could,” Dusty agreed. Her eyes glittered in the twilight coming through the window. “You’re gonna,if you don’t come here.”
“Hush.” Gwen felt her jeans slipping down over her hips. Turning in place, she unclipped her bra and turned back. “I’ll come when I’m good and ready.” She let the lace hit the floor and ran her fingers over her nipples.
“Oh princess, you can’t get away with that,” Dusty growled. “You can’t even feel that gentle shit. Give ‘em a good pinch.”
Gwen pushed her jeans the rest of the way off. “You do it,” she suggested, climbing onto the sofa to straddle Dusty, who obliged, twisting each one until Gwen howled delightedly. Dusty raised her head to capture the noise in her mouth, and they were kissing sloppily. Gwen let herself down over her lover. Dusty’s hot mouth ranged down her neck, nipping and suckling.
“Come on, sit on daddy’s face,” she said, once she had created a necklace of bites across Gwen’s chest and Gwen was whimpering and squirming and wet. Gwen pulled herself up and braced against the arm rest of the sofa.
“I never thought you would be into furry kink,” she commented while Dusty wriggled herself down.
“What’s a furry?” Dusty’s voice came up from between her thighs.
“You don’t know?” Gwen began, but whatever she was going to say was gone from her mind, driven away by that strong agile tongue and sucking lips. Gwen wondered if Dusty would really make the costumes, and if she herself would go through with it, alongside Dusty. The tall woman was kinkier than anyone Gwen had ever met. But she was always worth it.
(The poem “The Moon Sow” is from Russel Hoban’s amazing novel “Riddley Walker“)