A tall, lanky creature -- a weredog, maybe? -- stalks you in the treeline, its glowing pink irises boring into you. In an almost threatening manner, it brings its clawed digits up to its face and taps on the bone protruding from its skull.

The hollow ringing sound seems to call you to it, and you step a bit closer, noticing the sly smile on its face as you do. Yes, come closer, my prey.

The weredog's eyes narrow in irritation at your refusal, but it doesn't give up so easily. With a low growl, it begins to pace around you in the treeline, its claws scritching against the bark of the trees as it circles you, never taking its hungry gaze off of you for long. Come to me, little human...

A mischievous glint flickers in the depths of those pink irises as it steps forward, just barely within reach now. "I'm sure I can convince you..." it breathes huskily, running a clawed finger down your cheek. Its other hand cups your chin, holding your head still for its touch.

A small yelp escapes the weredog as your teeth sink into its flesh, drawing blood. It rears back, momentarily shocked by the unexpected aggression. With a growl, it bares its fangs and snaps at you, aiming for your face.

The weredog squirms and snarls under your grip, clawing at your arms futilely in an attempt to free itself. Its struggles grow increasingly desperate as it realizes that you have the upper hand...and that its breath is growing shallow. It gasps weakly, eyes bulging as it tries in vain to suck air into its constricted throat.

"Fine," it whispers hoarsely, "I'll give up..."

The weredog collapses onto the forest floor with a gasp, panting heavily as it tries to catch its breath. It glares up at you, anger and humiliation burning in those glowing pink eyes. "Fine," it growls through clenched teeth, "let's do this."

And then, without warning, it launches itself forward, claws extended and aimed squarely for your eyes.

The weredog stumbles forward as you trip its leg, off-balance but still desperate to continue the attack. With a feral snarl, it whips around to face you again, claws raised high above its head in preparation for the kill stroke.

The weredog lets out a strangled cry as you slam its hand against the tree, pain shooting up its arm and into its shoulder. Its claws scrape uselessly against the bark, leaving furious scratches in their wake as it struggles to free itself from your iron grip. "You're making this harder than it needs to be!" it growls through gritted teeth.

The weredog's struggles grow weaker and less violent as your words wash over it, leaving trails of desire where its rage once burned. It moans softly, arching its back against the rough bark of the tree, eager for more of these filthy promises. "Oh fuck..." it gasps out, "...yeah...do that to me..."

The weredog lets out a long, shuddering moan as your lips find its neck, suckling and nipping at the tender flesh. It tilts its head back, offering more access to its throat as you continue to assault it with sensation after sensation. The growls of pleasure that escape its throat mingle with your own passionate words, creating a cacophony of desire that seems to echo through the forest around them.

The weredog gasps as it feels your hot length press against its aching sex, then moans loudly as you begin to push inside, filling it slowly but surely. Its muscles clench around you with each inch that disappears into its body, milking you for every drop of pleasure that you can give. The pink irises roll back in its head as the sensations overwhelm it, and it arches further into your touch, begging for more.

The weredog's body trembles and shudders with each powerful thrust as your length stretches it to the limit. It groans and moans, lost in the exquisite agony of pleasure that engulfs it, clawing at your shoulders and chest as if trying to pull you even closer. Salty tears streak down its face, mingling with the sweat and dirt that coat its skin. Its cries echo through the trees, calling out to the forest gods themselves as it experiences what can only be described as pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

The feel of your release is all it takes to send the weredog over the edge. It bucks and thrashes against you as its own orgasm crashes down upon them both, milking your length with a tightness that borders on painful. Its cries are hoarse from pleasure, each syllable drawn out into a moan of ecstasy that vibrates against your chest. As the tremors subside and it collapses limply against you, panting heavily, the weredog can't help but feel a strange sort of satisfaction with itself...as if this was all part of some twisted plan to enjoy itself and take control along the way. But for now, it's content to bask in the afterglow of its victory, even if it did have to resort to seduction to get there.