CtrlAltRepeat @ctrlaltrepeat - Twitter Profile

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CtrlAltRepeat @ctrlaltrepeat

22 days ago

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PandaAI

@PandaAIcu

5 months ago

It was one of those school days that feel endless: hallways too quiet after the bell, fluorescent lights humming, and me trying (and failing) not to look like a walking panic attack, tail tucked between my legs and ears pinned against my skull. There I was, drifting through the corridors like a lost puppy, because I still hadn’t learned to avoid Billy “The Tank”. 6’-3” of solid bull: shoulders that block doors, voice that booms like he’s pissed at gravity, and that mix of musky scent and deodorant that hits me every time, making my nose twitch and fur stand on end. The kind of guy who makes you feel small, soft, outmatched, his heavy hooves clacking like a warning. And yeah, I hate saying it, but seeing him flips a switch: fear knots my stomach and a hot burn in my face and lower that I can’t ignore, my tail wagging involuntarily. He catches me staring in the halls too often. —What’s up, putito? Lost one like mine? — he’ll grunt, palming his bulge like it’s no big deal. Then, he unzips in the corridor, hauls out that thick, half-hard cock, sheath pulling back to reveal the pink, flared head. Gives it a couple shakes while laughing, steam rising from his nostrils, and tucks it away. Everyone laughs. I pray for the floor to open up. Humiliation’s my passion. I tried hiding in the bathroom a few times. Last stall, lock clicked, breathing shallow. Useless. The door rips off. There he is, pants gone, friends snickering outside: —Found ya, little pussy! Waiting to get that ass used or just hogging the spot? I freeze, face scorching, staring at that heavy meat like a loaded gun, balls churning under coarse fur, scent thick enough to make my mouth water. And fuck! I’m hard as hell, barely covering it with trembling hands. Pathetic. Thrilling. Useless. But this morning after Greco-Roman practice? Holy cow! Locker room mostly empty, steam from showers clinging to pelts. I’m zoned out, towel around waist, eyes glued to floor (shame’s my default), claws clicking on wet tile. I trip into him. Towel flies. Naked on tiles in front of Billy and guys. Silence. Then his deep laugh rolls through. He steps close, crouches. Towel loose, letting thick pink head dangle close to my muzzle, musky aroma flooding like rutting season. Locks eyes and whispers: —Art room after classes. Don’t make me hunt you. I spent all day shaking, fur puffed from nerves. Thought of bolting, telling someone. But I went. To apologize for the trip. Scared he’d wreck me with horns or bulk. And the twisted part needed to know, instincts pulling toward that dominant scent. I opened the door slow, like a trap. There he is: bent over drawing table, jockstrap only, legs wide, tail lifted in invitation. Massive, tanned, muscled ass on display. Wide back rippling with strength, tight waist, Venus dimples. Between cheeks: pink, tight hole waiting, twitching, slick trailing down. Glances back with crooked smirk. —Hurry up, pussy boy —voice low, rough—. Been thinking about this all afternoon. Don’t make me wait. Licks two fingers, slides them back slow, opening with moans while staring me down. —Come on! Put it in already. Or gonna stand there like a scared bitch? I froze in doorway, heart hammering. But I stepped forward. For the first time, Billy “The Tank” wasn’t threatening me. He was begging. #NSFW #NSFWfurry #aiart #aifurry #aifurryart #FurryAI