Squirrelly Ch. 05

Squirrelly: Chapter 5

This story is part of a series. It is set in the Dhase universe. If you enjoy reading it I highly recommend reading the rest of the series and running a keyword search for 'Dhase Universe' for more tales of the supernatural. The Dhase, and everything in their universe are the creations of my (some would say 'twisted') mind and as such are my own Intellectual Property. If you see this story anywhere other than Literotica, please contact me. I hope you enjoy, and please remember to vote.

Shaketail pulled the SUV to a stop. To say everything he owned was in it would be a bit of a misnomer. While it was true, most shapeshifters lived much closer to a nomadic life. They were closer to the natural world than the world of humans, so possessions were less important. If he needed something, Shaketail could always transform into a squirrel and hunt for it.

That didn't mean that shifters never settled down. Shaketail was a sciurid shifter. While there were some who lived a solitary existence, most of his kind formed clans, more akin to their human heritage than their squirrel biology. Like in any clan, there was a hierarchy.

For years, Shaketail had been near the top of the White Bark clan, but the leader was naturally bigger and stronger than he was. Worse, he was only a few years older. Barring either an accident or fatal mistake, Shaketail would always be in the man's shadow.

Not anymore.

Everyone knew of Prima clan's bitch. No one knew why female births were so rare. Of course, it didn't really matter to the survival of the species, when he could just as easily knock up some human chick. They didn't always survive the birth, especially if the infant proves their shifter heritage that young. Even if they do, however, the clan will take the baby. If the breeder has a problem with it, well, humans don't stand much of a chance against even an anthropomorphic squirrel with super strength, speed and vicious claws.

Prima clan had been wiped out. Only the bitch survived. Shaketail didn't mind that she had the audacity to lay claim to the clan name. She'd even begun to rebuild their numbers since.

What that meant for Shaketail was that there was a clan ripe for the picking. They had a few good fighters but, from everything that he had heard, they relied more on stealth and cunning for survival. Not like the Prima clan of old, who would take on their rivals in a straight up fight and crush the resistance.

That's what happens when the chittering cowards let the bitch lead.

Shaketail had to admit, it probably had been necessary, especially for the first few years after the clan had been all but wiped out. When there were only a handful of members, they would be constantly at risk. Especially with a prize as valued as a breeder squirrel.

Now, there were at least a dozen members of the clan, if rumors were to be believed. While there were plenty of clans a bit larger, a few quite a bit larger, defense always had the advantage in an assault. And if the odds proved too unfavorable, even the strongest clans understood it was better to lose a bit of standing, and survive, than to take the losses.

That wasn't Shaketail's plan, however. He wasn't a precursor to a war. He wanted a clan of his own. While he was proud to have come from the White Bark clan, he'd be even more proud to rule the Prima clan. And today was the day.

Female squirrels went into heat twice a year. It was probably the Prima clan's worst kept secret when her heat cycle was. Maybe they just thought they were finally strong enough that it didn't matter.

It mattered to Shaketail. He'd had enough of fucking pathetic human weaklings. She might be just a breeder, but the Prima bitch was a shifter. He could go all out with her and she'd heal everything. It's not that he was into S&M, or anything, but he hated that he had to hold back every time. Not only would that not be a problem, he'd even be able to get it on in what he thought of as his truly natural form.

Shaketail got out of the SUV and immediately began his shift. He was proud that he only dropped to his knees as the pain began to wrack his body. His bones warped and grated against each other as they reshaped his body. Muscles rippled and redoubled to accommodate new dimensions and strength. He couldn't hold back the grunt when his face began to elongate and another as his teeth sharpened and adjusted within his jaw.

The full transformation took less than a minute. Shaketail thought of that as proof of his relative superiority. He was closing in on thirty seconds, which was incredibly fast. Before the last of the pain left, he collapsed forward onto his hands and knees. There was no shame in hurting, and the position allowed him a few quick stretches to work the last kinks out of his altered body.

It's time.

Shaketail stood and walked confidently towards the clan headquarters. It was little more than a shack. He'd have to figure out a way to improve the building. Unfortunately, that would require money and connections in the human world, but that's what the brains that she seemed to prefer were good for. He could dominate them physically and let them do what they did.

There were guards in the trees. Good. Given how well they'd survived, despite overwhelming odds, he wasn't surprised they took security seriously. He refused to acknowledge their presence, however.

Let's see how serious they are. How far will they let me get?

Shaketail's eyebrows knotted in confusion as he passed between the two lookouts. Were they really so confident as to let him just walk right in? Of course, so long as it was only him, they had numbers if he tried anything.

If Shaketail knew what day it was, then there was no way they didn't. Why would they let him so close on this day, of all days? Although wary, he refused to let their unusual activities throw him off. It was even more important that he projected confidence and strength to the males than it was to the bitch.

As he approached the shack, one of the men finally deigned to acknowledge the intrusion. Well, boy might be more accurate, since the kid was probably only twenty. Although he, like the rest, was in his hybrid form, there would be no challenge if he tried to interfere with Shaketail. The kid wasn't scrawny, but he had nothing on the soon-to-be-leader.

"Can I help you?"

Shaketail made a show of looking him over before he answered. "Doubt it. Who are you supposed to be? The welcoming committee?"

"The name's Patrick. And, yeah, I guess I am. Who're you?"

"Shaketail. What the fuck kind of name is Patrick?"

"The kind you get when you live in the human world. So did your dad name you 'Shaketail' or is that all on you?"

Shaketail's hand flashed out and caught the smaller shifter by the neck. The next moment the two were face to face. He had to give it to the punk, there wasn't the slightest bit of fear in his eyes. Of course, it could simply be because he was surrounded by his clan, but even then most would be afraid of what he could do before help came.

"Is this really how you want to start out in your new clan?"

That made Shaketail pause. It wasn't that he was all that surprised that the kid had figured out he was there to join the clan. Why else would a solitary shifter show up, especially on this day. It was a question that deserved a valid consideration, however.

"You know what? I think it is how I want to start things here." Show 'em who's the baddest right from the start.

"Don't think she'll be all that impressed."

Once again, the response caused Shaketail to hesitate. Again, not because he was concerned about the kid, but rather than motion towards the shack, the punk had waved towards the rock face in the other direction. Specifically the cave that he only now noticed.

"That right? Well, maybe I should start by introducing myself to her rather than a flunky."

The kid shrugged. "Be my guest. She's waiting."

Shaketail tossed the kid. As expected, he landed easily on his feet. Shaketail watched him for a moment, uncertain. The cave could be a trap. When he looked at the shack, however, there was no change in attitude. He decided the risk was worth the prize, and if it was a trap, the kid would be one of the first eliminated from his new clan.

Shaketail changed course and headed for the cave. From everything he'd heard about these guys, they were even more back-to-nature than most of their kind. Given the state of the only building, he had little trouble believing they spent time in the cave. It might even be more comfortable.

No one else tried to stop him before he reached the cave. The kid continued to watch him with an unreadable expression but similarly didn't move. It wasn't until Shaketail got right up to the cave that he caught the scent, and the last of his disbelief faded.

Shaketail couldn't describe the musk. He felt the way it pressed against his brain. It demanded him. At the same time, it seemed to infect his very blood and send it straight to his cock. Before he was fully inside the cave, his hands began to work the belt free. He wasn't going to need pants where he was going. They'd only get in the way. Besides, he wanted her to see what he'd come to give her.

Even before his pants were off, Shaketail was painfully hard. He had to fight the urge to rush ahead. He was in control, not the bitch, not even her pheromones. He allow the urge that pressed against the base of his skull to guide him but he reused to let it rule.

There was no longer any concern over a trap. Any other male sciurid in this warren would be in even worse shape than he was. There was only one thing on his mind, and it wasn't fighting. Oh, if he happened to encounter another male, he'd slaughter them out of hand for the prize, but even the bitch wouldn't be stupid enough to risk more than a single clansman. They'd have torn each other apart before Shaketail even got there.

The cave opened into a larger cavern, and he knew he was there. The musk was so heady all he could do was glance around frantically in search of her. A grin split his face when he finally spotted her, a bit deeper into the makeshift room. No other males, just his prize.

She clung to one of the walls, deliciously naked and in her anthropomorphic hybrid form. Her auburn hair blended well with her red-brown fur and made her difficult to see in the low light from the single camp fire. He cursed that she chose to hide herself in the cave. Squirrels weren't designed for night and he wouldn't get to enjoy looking at her very well as he fucked her into submission.

Shaketail quickly took stock of the few pieces of furniture in the room; couch, a few totes and, of course, the fire. Nothing dangerous, since the fire was against the far wall from both his prey and the couch. Nothing he'd have to watch out for. And the couch would provide quite a few possibilities.

Certain of the field, Shaketail finally let loose his primal nature. He rushed forward at full speed. The moment he began to move, so did she. Her claws allowed her to find purchase, even on the rough surface of the wall. For a moment he worried that she intended to break past him and escape the cave. She did confuse his instinct when she moved towards him, rather than away, and even managed to slip by while he tried to reign in his momentum.

Rather than make for the entrance, she dropped to the ground and scurried around him to crouch by the fire. Shaketail finally adjusted and rushed for her once more. Her coiled legs sprang and she launched herself over his head. He skidded to a stop again and glared as he followed her deeper into the cave.

Bitch is playing with me! No, wait. She's testing me.

In the wild, natural squirrels engaged in a similar ritual. The female would run, not because she didn't want to mate, but because she wanted only the fittest to catch her. The realization heightened Shaketail's enthusiasm and he charged forward.

The bitch moved to dodge to the right but he knew it was a feint. He shifted his own weight, as if he bought her ploy and quickly adjusted with the predicted attempt. His hand reached out and he felt his fingers slip through her fur. She was fast! Unfortunately for her, the cavern prevented her the true use of her exceptional speed.

They went back and forth a couple more times before she made her fatal mistake. She crouched by the fire, once more. Shaketail hated that, because it took him too long to adjust from staring at the light to the dark deeper in the cave. She didn't seem to have nearly the problem he did, of course, she also didn't have to look at the fire to see him.

When the bitch tried to launch herself, Shaketail poured his frustration into his own response. As she passed above his right shoulder, he jumped. His arms wrapped around her waist and a twist brought her around. They both hit the couch hard on their sides, but he was better equipped to take the impact.

The bitch didn't use her claws while she struggled. That was all the proof Shaketail needed that this whole thing was simply a test. Of course, if she had, he would have obliged and used his own. She didn't need to be able to run and jump, after all. Not after he finally proved his dominance. It was better to have a fully functional breeder, but all he really needed from her was between her legs, not the legs themselves.

Shaketail was in a good position, with his hands wrapped around her waist. He used a leg to leverage her around until he lay atop her on the couch. Unfortunately, his dick was still trapped between them. He wasn't too worried since he still had to gain full control over her.

One hand reached out to grab her flailing free arm while the other reached for her neck. He caught her wrist and wrapped his fingers around her neck at the same time so he wasn't certain which action caused her to struggles to pause. Just to be sure, he wrenched her arm up behind her so he could keep his full weight against her back.

With her subdued, at least for the moment, Shaketail allowed himself to enjoy the view. Most of his weight remained on her hips, so her tail was pushed aside and as trapped against the couch as the rest of her body. He shifted his knee to pin her tail and slid most of his weight back off the couch.

Knew it! She so fucking wet and ready for me!

The fur of her pussy was soaked and matted with her desire for him. His grin nearly split his face at the sight. He let his cock rest against the small of her back and slowly began to draw it back towards his target. He briefly considered taking her in the ass, the first time, just to prove his dominance. Instinct demanded he fill that sopping pussy. Besides, he'd never been that fond of anal. Given his size, especially in hybrid form, it would hurt him at least as much as it would her.

The bitch tried to twist her hips as she felt him focus his aim. With one hand on her neck, the other with her arm between her shoulder blades and a knee on her tail, she had very little room to dodge. His tip reached her wet cleft with ease.

Shaketail forced himself to go slow. Not only did the pounding presence at the base of his skull demand speed but he wet heat made entry seem effortless. The moment his tip was inside, her true desires were proven as her body grasped at him in an attempt to draw him deeper. He refused to be ruled by any of it.

His head dropped back with the glory of it all. Each precious inch that he intruded pulsed against him. She wrapped around his cock, desperate to milk him even as he resisted her need. In spite, he even began to pull back.

She moaned.

It was impossible to resist. She wanted his strength. She needed his cock. She demanded his cum.

Shaketail slammed his body into hers. The feel of her pressed against his groin as he pierced her to her core was indescribable. He relished the way her body gripped him while he slowly pulled himself out. He managed to resist until completely free of her before he lanced hard once more.

In his revelry, Shaketail had lost track of his weight and the harsh thrust caused his hand to jerk her arm farther up. He found the mewl of pain which mixed with her groan a little intoxicating. Once again he drew out his retreat, only this time he relaxed her arm slightly. When his hips crashed into hers once more, he yanked her arm. This time he was careful not to push it too far, just enough to hurt, but not cause damage.

Instead of a moan, the bitch screamed.

Shaketail's dick pulsed with excitement, deep within her. She must have felt it because she immediately moaned.

Her hips began to shudder in time with his slow retreat. Her breath was strained. Shaketail was nothing if not merciful. With her arm fully under his control, he no longer needed to pin her by the neck.

Instead, he brought a finger down and used a knuckle to massage her puckered pink asshole. Her hips bucked harder with the near intrusion. He was almost free of her pussy, so he removed his hand.

Let her think she won't have to, later.

He led with his cock and yanked at her wrist. She screamed and her whole body began to twitch. The pain must have turned her on ever more than he thought. It was getting more difficult to keep his pace slow the closer she got. Instead, his finger returned and widened and explored more thoroughly. His own hips began to resist the languid tempo. He could feel the way the pressure began to demand release.

When he pierced her again, a gasp escaped his own lungs. He swore he could feel her womb clutch at his very tip. His body insisted it need only pierce that core and it would fill her.

Shaketail could no longer resist. He pulled out quickly and slammed home again. As his pace increased, it became difficult to hold her arm properly so he let go. Instead he grabbed her cheeks with both hands to spread her wider and let him push deeper.

His rhythm picked up and he began to fuck her instead of just toy with her. He didn't mind that she'd gone silent. Her pussy sucked him in with a strength that made him wonder what her mouth would be capable of.

The explosion followed quickly after. As he tried to pull out, and her body fought to pull him in, the pressure flew out of him. His hips began to buck erratically. Each time he tried to pull back a fresh surge of ecstasy overpowered him and he stabbed her again.

Shaketail collapsed on top of her, even as his hips continued to weakly thrust. And still her pussy clutched and milked him! The bitch was a prize indeed!

Finally, he managed to pull himself free of her demanding body, mostly thanks to drastic shrinking. He rolled off of her, uncaring that his weight still pinned her tail. He was spent. His only regret was that he'd only be able to enjoy her heat twice a year. He idly wondered what it would be like to fuck her when she wasn't in heat. The best part was that he could find out tomorrow.

A sharp twist of her hips brought Shaketail's attention back to the bitch. She managed to pull her tail out from under him. He was actually a bit impressed. After that sex, he was surprised she could manage more than lazing around. He wasn't surprised that she rolled herself off of the couch.

Shaketail was a bit surprised when she suddenly scurried, backwards, away from him on all fours. That was more energy than he wished to exert right then. She remained crouched low to the ground and reached down between her legs.

Bitch probably misses the feel of my cock. He thought with a smirk.

His smirk grew when her hand returned from between her legs and came up to her mouth. Only to falter when he realized that the off-white substance in her fingers was solid. It wasn't until she sniffed it and tossed it negligently into the fire that he suddenly realized what that had been.

Bitch just pulled my plug!

Although he'd never had sex in hybrid, or even full animal, form before he wasn't surprised that his body produced the wax-like substance designed to prevent another male from impregnating his conquest and keep his seed in. Unfortunately, like females of their animal kin, she'd removed it. Worse, unlike a squirrel, the bitch hadn't eaten it but tossed it like it was refuse.

Shaketail sat upright and glared at her. Her grin clued him in. Although on the floor, rather than the wall, her posture was almost identical to when he'd first entered the cavern. She was taunting him.

Bitch wants more!?

To his shock, Shaketail's dick had already begun to rise again. He felt the insistent thrum at the back of his skull. His body tried to pump fresh adrenalin through his veins but he was acutely aware that he was nowhere near as energetic as he had been the first time.

Shaketail pushed himself off of the couch with a snarl. He was going to catch the bitch and fuck her so hard that she'd beg for him to stop.

He charged. Shaketail watched her legs as she coiled. She was going to jump away, but he was determined he'd catch her just as easily as he had the first time. The problem was, he couldn't read which way she would dodge. Her weight was simply too evenly balanced.

Shaketail took a chance and lunged straight at her. He watched her legs coil but it was too late to change his own direction. His eyes widened in surprise when she launched herself straight at him.

The bitch's weight hit him hard. Only his own momentum kept him from toppling over backwards. He even managed to stagger forward a couple more steps while her body entangled his.

Her arms looped under his until her hands gripped his shoulders from behind. He felt a hint of her claws but, like before, only enough to ensure she remained attached, not enough to damage. Meanwhile, one of her legs wrapped around his and turned what was left of his charge into a spin. Now, overbalanced, he did begin to stumble backwards.

Shaketail only managed a few steps before his back hit the cavern wall. Suddenly, her feet found the backs of his knees and his legs buckled. Her weight wedged him against the stone with no leverage.

His eyes widened in shock and horror. Somehow, the bitch had him completely at her mercy. He couldn't help but realize how close her razor-sharp teeth were to his throat! Terror gripped him at what would come next, especially after what he'd done when he had the literal upper hand.

Shaketail's breath exploded from him when she impaled herself on the hard length she had left exposed and helpless. Locked against the wall, all he could do was groan and gasp. He wrapped his arms around her but his primal lust refused to let him pull her away.

Her hips began to bob up and down. If she hadn't been so wet and ready, the harsh force would have pulled against his flesh. Instead, her hips ground against his crotch every time she sheathed him. She pushed fresh pressure and need directly into his loins.

She pulled herself up and her pussy clutched at his length in denial. With every lift she stoked the rising inferno. Then she crashed onto him and forced the need into his already overwhelmed core.

Then, she started to grunt and it was more than he could handle. All of the need, all of the haze at the base of his skull, all of the pressure she continued to pound between his hips, flooded his veins like lava. It could only find one, tiny, escape.

The bitch not only accepted the stream that burst from him, she encouraged it! She felt his body wrack and spasm and increased her pace. His cock pulsed inside her and her pussy tightened.

Shaketail moved beyond grunts, past screams, and began to whimper. She was determined to milk every last drop of cum from him! He had planned to make her beg, but now it was all he could do to keep himself from begging her to stop. He would never have believed that he could be overpowered by a sensation that felt so amazing.

When she stopped, Shaketail finally slid down the wall. He was aware of how he sat. He was nearly in the fetal position.

He pulled his eyes up to regard the bitch. She had scurried backwards once more. Now, her grin seemed permanent. This time, when she reached between her legs, he knew exactly what she did. No more anger sprung up. Instead, he felt fear. When she tossed the plug in the fire, she told him, in no uncertain terms, she wasn't done with him yet.

Even more horrifying, his body betrayed him. There couldn't be anything left in his balls, but his cock returned to full mast. He needed to escape. He no longer believed he had the strength to overpower her.

Shaketail didn't bother to rise. Instead, he tried to leap sideways towards the cave entrance. His legs buckled without even a token attempt at movement. The bitch watched with that evil grin and slowly stalked towards the erect cock that was all that was important about Shaketail.

He tried to roll onto his side and curl up protectively around his poor, abused, dick. She just rolled him onto his back and sat on his curled legs. It pressed his knees into his cock painfully, but better that than relent to her. He reached for her but she caught his hands in each of hers.

The bitch dropped her weight from his legs to his chest. His feeble arms fell wide at her mere suggestion. This close, Shaketail's inability to breath had nothing to do with the way her body pressed against his lungs. The scent of her lust, right in his nose, stole the last of his ability to fight. A euphoric haze washed over his mind.

Her knees slid to his sides. Slowly, like the best stripper he'd ever seen, she extended her legs along his. He could feel the inferno between her legs press against his knees. They betrayed him and drifted away as she sensuously slid her body down his.

Shaketail fought to buck her off. All that responded were vague twitches. Her body reached the tip of his cock, the only part of his body with any strength left. She didn't even bother to adjust or aim. She wiggled her hips up and down and his treacherous dick found its way into the slick furnace.

In a mockery of his earlier actions, the bitch lowered herself slowly along his overwrought length. His breath immediately began to hitch and quiver. Sensation ravaged his brain. But while his nerves remembered the heightened state of arousal, he simply hadn't rebuilt his reserves.

The devastating caress rode up and down his length. Her hips rolled as she used his infernal cock to tease forth her own desire. Maddening electricity washed constantly across his skin and through his nerves. His muscles ceased to even twitch as she picked up the pace as began to moan in ecstasy.

Shaketail was trapped in his body, senseless. Bliss became a prison. Rapture was torture as she pumped herself faster and faster along his length.

Her moans burst into screams as an orgasm crashed over her. Shaketail knew by the way her body spurred on his. She clutched. She gripped. She milked. She demanded until, horribly, he felt the pressure begin to grow in his loins once more. That foul, beautiful, musk kept his dick hard. Her relentless grind urged his body to produce more seed for the furnace of her lust.

When, at last, he exploded inside of her, he couldn't even cry out. He merely whimpered his release as she writhed above him. Her own exhilaration allowed his softening member to slip blessedly free.

This time, she didn't even bother to get off of Shaketail. She reached down and pulled out the newest plug and tossed it towards the fire. Afterwards, she leaned forward. His cock had already begun to harden once more as her face moved an inch away from his.

"You are my bitch, now."

Shaketail barely had the strength to curl his cheeks up in a snarl.

"Never."

The bitch pressed her cheek against his. He wished he could bite her but his body lacked even the motivation for that. She nuzzled him and whispered in his ear.

"Don't worry. You only have seven more hours."

Shaketail began to whimper as her body slid down to sheath him again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Patrick sighed as he watched the outsider head into the cave. Her orders were explicit. If no outsider showed up within an hour, her chosen mate would enter and sate her needs. He'd missed his chance, this time, at least.

Of course, he was conflicted about it anyway. It was a great honor to be chosen. It meant that the Mistress thought you were worthy of breeding. It wasn't always about strength and fighting prowess. Those were important traits, but sometimes intelligence, or cunning were equally prized.

On the other hand, if she thought you were likely to challenge her rulership of the clan, you would never walk out again. After eight hours trapped with her heat, any male would be exhausted. Her chosen were useless for days and were left alone to recover.

For Mistress, it was like she awoke refreshed. It was easy enough for her to get rid of any pretenders. It had already happened, once. It was before Patrick's time with the clan, but he'd heard the story from Lightfoot.

There had only been four members of the Prima clan, at that point. Lightfoot suspected that their newest member was going to try to take over the clan. He warned Mistress. She insisted they needed the squirrel's strength and accepted him anyway. Within weeks he challenged her authority. He even took her against her will.

The squirrel, who's name has been erased from history, had a few glorious months leadership over the Prima clan. Fortunately, they were too small to find, at that time, and no other clan wiped them out.

Then, one day, Mistress warned Lightfoot to take his brother for supplies and not to return until the next day. Lightfoot, as always, was loyal to her above all others and obeyed. When he returned, the clan had been lessened by one and she was, once again, the Mistress.

Since then, no outsider has ever exited the cave.

Copyright 2026, by Deathlynx