Chapter 4 – A Shy Pleasure (HOT)

CHAPTER 4
A Shy Pleasure

♣

BEHIND THE OTHER SLEEPING WARRIORS INSIDE THE DEN WHERE THEY ALL RESTED, ONE SHE-CAT TOSSED AND TURNED RESTLESSLY. Her paws twitched against her nest, soft growls spilling from her throat as hot breath escaped her muzzle. One paw slid down between her thighs, rubbing softly, seeking to calm the faint ache that burned hotter every time she remembered the two toms from her dream.

It hadn’t been many hours since, after being called by Dustpelt to receive what he’d promised was a surprise gift, she had caught a strange scent coming from the bushes where he led her. Her surprise deepened when Graystripe emerged from the undergrowth, a bunch of herbs clamped between his teeth. Dustpelt tried to snatch them away, and the two wrestled briefly before tumbling to the ground, dazed by the intoxicating aroma that spilled from the crushed leaves.

The perfume clouded Sandstorm’s senses too. The herb fogged her head, but she fought to keep her composure. She hadn’t expected the two toms to close in, circling her, purring as they moved around her like wolves scenting prey.

She growled, fur bristling, but her resolve faltered when Dustpelt, from behind, leaned close and inhaled the scent rising from between her legs, and then, with dangerous gentleness, ran his tongue along her slit. A shiver shot through her from tail to whiskers. Her tail lifted; her head dropped; a hot gasp slipped out of her.

Instinct snapped back. She kicked Dustpelt square in the muzzle, but Graystripe was faster. He seized her by the scruff and shoved her to the ground, pinning her beneath his weight, pupils wide, breath heavy with heat.

“What’s—what’s gotten into you two?” Sandstorm growled, but her words dissolved into another moan as Dustpelt’s tongue slipped between her thighs, lapping beneath the gray tom’s belly. Above his head, Graystripe’s cock began to peek out, and a strange mix of fear and heat made her tremble.

Her chest rose and fell with nervous tension while the two males kept her surrounded, teasing her without pause. She’d been in heat for days, hoping Fireheart might finally notice, but instead she had these two intruders, and no clear way out.

Frustration turned her growl rough. She sank her fangs into Graystripe’s neck; he answered with a gentler bite that drew an involuntary moan from her throat. Dustpelt carefully spread the wet folds of her sex and licked deeper, exploring, savoring her taste.

Sandstorm unsheathed her claws, but when she felt Graystripe’s cock drag against the fur of her belly, her heart pounded, a breathless gasp escaping as her strength drained away. Dustpelt’s tongue burrowed further, and the heat consuming her left her helpless.

Something’s wrong with them… something’s changed, she thought, desperate to fight it off, but her body betrayed her. Her hind legs locked around Dustpelt’s head, pulling him closer, pleading silently for him not to stop. His low purr vibrated against her skin, and each stroke of his tongue made her moan louder.

Graystripe lowered his head to hers and kissed her hungrily, mixing his breath with hers, his tongue tangling with her own, tasting her panting gasps. The scent of the herb seemed to crawl into her through that kiss, blurring her thoughts, melting her will into the fire growing between them.

Sandstorm trembled, eyes half-lidded. She felt Graystripe’s cock gliding over the fur of her stomach, slick and wet, leaving traces of precum as his heavy balls rested against Dustpelt’s head, who paid it no mind, lost in the sweetness between her thighs.

She wanted to resist, but desire was winning. Graystripe moved forward, dragging his cock along her muzzle, holding her head between his paws while he stroked her ears. The friction made her pant; the heat made her dizzy. When Dustpelt made her gasp with a deeper lick, Graystripe took the chance to slide his cock into her mouth. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as her tongue wrapped around him; his body shuddered, and a hot stream filled her mouth.

Sandstorm growled through clenched teeth, eyes shut tight, as Graystripe kept thrusting, driving deeper into her throat with heavy, rhythmic motions, forcing her to take more. The tom’s strength didn’t waver, and her lungs began to burn from lack of air. The herb’s influence still gripped him; stopping wasn’t an option.

Dustpelt used the moment to climb over her, watching Graystripe’s dominance play out. He bit the gray tom’s tail with a low snarl, trying to pull him off, but Graystripe bit back, both toms growling and purring in a rough duet of rivalry and lust. The tension only thickened the air, and Graystripe’s pace quickened, fucking her mouth harder, a deep growl vibrating through the den.

Sandstorm’s tongue slid along the veined shaft, her throat slick with his thrusts, Graystripe driving himself down until she took him to the base without resistance. He wanted to dominate her, or maybe part of him simply couldn’t tell the difference anymore. His mind, muddled by the herbs, blurred the yellow she-cat beneath him with another, Silverstream, the RiverClan she-cat he’d once loved. Lost in that ghost of memory, he moved with dark delight, moaning through his teeth, ignoring Dustpelt’s snarls behind him.

Dustpelt, realizing his growled warnings had no effect on the gray warrior’s erratic behavior, exhaled a long sigh, saliva dripping onto the fur of Sandstorm’s belly as he pulled his barbed cock free and rubbed it along her hind legs. He inhaled sharply and let out a low, rasping breath through his nose, spreading her legs apart and holding them to either side as he began to rub himself slowly against the swollen lips of the she-cat’s sex.

Her body was begging for him to mount her. It needed it, craved it, trembling as a few more drops of her slick leaked out, mixing with the head of Dustpelt’s cock. Deep down she still tried to resist the pleasure, but her mind was surrendering, melting under the eternal heat that seemed to consume her, weakening further as she felt Graystripe’s cock throb inside her mouth. Sandstorm sucked harder, almost begging without realizing it, her muffled moans turning into silent pleas for more of that hard, burning flesh.

Graystripe, feeling the motions of her tongue over his shaft, gripped her head tighter and began to thrust with more urgency, forcing deeper, driving himself to her throat, pulling back and plunging in again and again until her lips molded completely around the thickness of his cock. The pulsing length grew harder and heavier, each stroke wringing out rougher moans of pleasure from his chest until the rising ecstasy blurred everything but the raw sensation of filling her mouth with his desire.

Sandstorm felt it instantly, the swelling inside her mouth, the sudden tensing of his muscles, and then the gray warrior came with a deep groan, spurting thick streams of semen straight down her throat. Her tongue circled him hungrily, sucking up every drop as though tasting something forbidden.

So focused was she on Graystripe’s climax that she didn’t notice Dustpelt pressing his tip inside her, drawing a rough gasp from her throat. The brown warrior swallowed hard as he felt her sex tighten and pulse around him, inching forward carefully, pushing into a body that already seemed used to pleasure. He didn’t think much, he just let his cock glide slowly into the warm, wet depth of his friend’s body.

Sandstorm felt Graystripe thrusting inside her mouth, tears stinging her eyes as she braced her paws on his, trying to push herself forward until her nose brushed his groin, taking him whole. Graystripe growled, releasing several more spurts of cum before finally pulling back, panting, slipping free of her mouth. He collapsed onto the grass, purring, his still-hard cock pointing to the sky, while Sandstorm finally caught her breath after having pleasured him for so long.

But the steady thrusts behind her pulled her back to reality. She turned her head and saw Dustpelt gripping her waist, driving his cock fully inside her, moving in and out with steady force. She brought her paws to her muzzle to stifle her moans, but Dustpelt leaned over her, his face close to hers. He met her gaze, growling, and brushed her paws away with a firm nudge of his muzzle before catching her lips in a kiss, sharing with her the taste of her own mixed fluids. Sandstorm opened her mouth, seeking his tongue, their breaths mingling hotly between them.

Dustpelt’s cock slid in and out of her, slapping against her ass in a steady rhythm as his tongue tangled with hers. Sandstorm moaned, surprised by how fiercely he kissed her, sucking her tongue, leaving both their mouths slick until saliva ran down their chins and dripped to her throat, forcing her to swallow and pant between breaths. Her hind legs lifted to wrap around his waist, begging between gasps for him not to stop.

“Dustpelt… harder… fuck me harder…” she panted.

Her body had taken full control of her mind, and Sandstorm was enjoying it more than anything she had ever known.

Dustpelt pulled away from her mouth and moved to her neck, licking and sucking eagerly, leaving wet marks in her fur. His cock thickened inside her, and she moaned as his paws slid up to her chest, brushing over her small nipples, stiff and sensitive, something she’d never confessed to anyone. But now, by chance or instinct, he found them, touching them with a tenderness that made her tremble.

Their eyes met for an instant before she wrapped her paws around him, which only made him thrust harder, both of them lost in the heat of each other.

That was when she felt it, Dustpelt’s cock swelling inside her, twitching, ready to spill. He was close, pushing deeper, breath shaking. Sandstorm swallowed hard and threw her head back, tongue slipping out as her claws sank into his back. Dustpelt took it as the sign he needed.

He gripped her waist tighter, bit down on her neck to hold her still, and thrust with raw intensity, driving as deep as he could until thick, hot spurts of semen burst inside her, flooding her inner walls with sticky white heat that seeped to the deepest part of her womb.

Sandstorm’s eyes went wide, then shut tight as the climax hit her, violent, overwhelming. Every muscle tensed, her shoulder blades arched, and then her whole body released as she came, spilling her own fluids over his cock while the tremors of her pleasure pulsed through them both.

Both of them stayed still for a moment, silent, panting beneath the night sky that loomed high above, watching.

Off to the side, Graystripe was already deep asleep, paws stretched out to the air, a goofy, heavy-lidded expression on his face. Sandstorm couldn’t help but find the position ridiculous, especially noticing that, even though it had softened a little, his cock was still half-hard while he slept.

Dustpelt, still panting above her, finally pulled away with sluggish motion, sliding his cock from her slick heat. A thin stream of semen trickled from her, dripping through her fur as the warrior rolled onto his back and passed out instantly.

Sandstorm was the only one who remained awake. With her front paws resting over her chest, staring up at the stars, she listened to a distant hoot, some night bird, maybe a sign that prey had seen her at her most vulnerable.

Her mind was blank, but her body still burned. She rose with effort, legs shaking, muzzle still streaked white, backside just as messy. First, she approached Graystripe and gave him a sharp kick in the ribs.

He grumbled in his sleep and barely stirred.

Then she moved over to Dustpelt. Watching him sleep, she couldn’t help a small, warm smile, yet still, she raised a paw and poked him in the cheek.

Dustpelt sleepily pulled her close, wrapping his paws around her in a loose embrace.

Sandstorm stood still, blinking in slight disbelief. She slipped out of his grasp and shook herself off, letting out a long sigh. Her chest released the breath she’d been holding since the whole thing began.

Thinking back to how it had all started, she felt a growing unease about those strange herbs the two toms had chewed. When she turned to look for them in the undergrowth, she found nothing left. The wind had probably taken them… while they’d been rutting her senseless, panting, barely conscious of themselves.

She looked around. Let out a long breath.

And began walking back to camp, staggering, her thoughts still jumbled, but one thing rang loud and clear in her mind.

Someone had orchestrated this.

And she was going to make them pay double for what they’d put her through.

***

Sandstorm woke the next morning to the first rays of sunlight warming her nest. She stretched and yawned, tasting the faint stickiness still lingering in her mouth. She blinked a few times… and then it hit her.

Did anyone from the Clan see me come back like that?

She shook her head side to side, glancing around the den, searching for any warrior who might’ve been watching. But by then, everyone was already up, out fulfilling their morning duties. She was the only one left in the warriors’ den.

Still, that didn’t ease her anxiety. She rose with a restless energy and slipped out quietly, trying to go unnoticed as she made her way toward the wooded area of the forest, toward the river that marked the border with RiverClan.

She walked slow, pausing now and then to glance over her shoulder. When her paws felt the soft dampness of the ground, she knew she was close. Her pace quickened, she ran, hopped over some stones, dodged a few wildflowers, until at last she stopped just shy of the water’s edge.

“Finally… water,” Sandstorm muttered with relief, touching the surface with her paw. A shiver ran up her spine.

She took a deep breath and dunked her muzzle, letting the cold river rinse away any lingering taste. Then, though she hated to admit it, she turned around, lifted her tail, and squatted down, throwing a nervous look in every direction to make sure no one was watching.

A little splash hit her rear, soaking her fur.

“Shit!” she hissed, somewhere between irritated and embarrassed, growling at the river like it had done it on purpose.

Sure, she could clean herself with her tongue… but she didn’t want to leave a trace. No scent. No clue. Not if she was going to bump into any Clanmate.

Especially not if Fireheart was nearby.

What happened to those two idiots from yesterday, anyway?

That question wouldn’t leave her mind. She looked back toward the path she’d come running from just earlier.

She stood staring for a while in that direction, eyes narrowing.

Did they even make it back to the Clan in one piece…?

Sandstorm stayed silent and frowned.

“What am I thinking? They’re the ones who attacked me in the first place… or at least… I think that’s how it went…” she muttered to herself, feeling droplets of water hit her tail and the fur covering her still-sensitive sex, drawing a sudden gasp and an involuntary growl from her throat.

She had to get back before someone noticed her absence.

“What’s a RiverClan she-cat doing this close to the border, huh?”

Sandstorm jumped, ears pricking up, spinning around as a sharp voice cut through the air from across the river.

She spotted a large figure, pale gray fur, eyes cold but watchful. Whoever it was didn’t seem pleased to see her.

“I—uh… I just came to drink. I’m leaving now,” she replied, backing slowly toward the trees.

“Wait,” the gray she-cat growled. “Have you seen Graystripe by any chance?”

Sandstorm’s ears perked. She paused, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“And why would you care about one of our warriors? If I stay off your border, stay off ours.”

The gray cat simply sat down, lowering her head.

“…Just tell him I waited last night. That’s all.”

Sandstorm narrowed her eyes and sighed.

“And your name is…?”

The gray she-cat lifted her muzzle and watched Sandstorm turning back toward the forest, clearly done with the conversation. Still, she raised her voice across the water:

“I’m… Silverstream.”

***

Sandstorm returned to camp with a slow but steady gait, flicking her ears as she arched her back slightly to shake off the river drops.

When she entered Clan territory, she sniffed the air, searching for any sign of nearby warriors. Upon arriving, she saw Darkstripe talking with Tigerclaw atop some rocks, while Bluestar was meeting with Yellowfang in the medicine den.

Farther off, Speckletail was speaking with Frostfur and Brindleface, and Goldenflower was scolding Swiftpaw, who apparently had played too roughly with Brackenpaw. The latter tried to calm things down, insisting he hadn’t hurt him, which only sparked another argument between the two apprentices.

However, there was no sign of Dustpelt or Graystripe.

And even less… of Fireheart.

Though she felt as if she were forgetting someone. Her mind was still trying to recover from the chaos of the previous day.

Where did I last see Fireheart?

She let out a sigh. Maybe he had just gone hunting.

“Alder bark, aloe vera, and borage leaves… yes, I think I’ve got everything,”

said a voice emerging from the bushes behind her.

With an innocent smile, the medicine apprentice entered camp, purring softly as she walked confidently toward Yellowfang’s den, carrying the new herbs in her jaws.

Sandstorm watched her for a moment… then her eyes widened, her back tensing in less than a heartbeat.

Could it be… her?

She didn’t take her eyes off Cinderpaw, who was now joining her mentor and the leader inside the den. Sandstorm narrowed her eyes, thoughtful.

Could Cinderpaw have orchestrated what happened to me?

Or does she have something to do with Fireheart’s disappearance?

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

A cat like her… knows her place in the Clan.

It couldn’t have been her.

Sandstorm frowned, letting out a long breath as she took a deep gulp of air. She wouldn’t solve anything with that bad energy. She needed to focus on something else. But… on what?

Not knowing where Fireheart was still gnawed at her. She was afraid she wouldn’t find him. A strange confusion had settled in her head, mixing with the heated memories of the previous night, of Graystripe’s and Dustpelt’s bodies entwined with hers.

In the middle of that turmoil, she remembered the RiverClan she-cat.

“What did she have to do with Graystripe…? How many things are happening in this Clan without me knowing? God… I’m getting a little dizzy. I think I need to eat something first.”

Quickening her pace toward the fresh-kill pile in the camp’s center, Sandstorm noticed a couple of hungry warriors taking two mice for themselves, despite the disapproving stares from the rest of the Clan.

“I suddenly got an insane hunger, you can’t imagine…”

“You too? You think it’s got something to do with last night…?”

“I don’t know, but… I feel like Sandstorm’s gonna get mad as soon as she sees us…”

“You do know I can hear you, right?”

Sandstorm frowned at the two cats’ voices.

Graystripe and Dustpelt were eating with wild appetite, but the moment they saw her, both froze, stepping back with guilty expressions.

Sandstorm brought a paw to her face, feeling uneasy as she looked at them. She knew she herself had given in to temptation… and now she couldn’t look at them without remembering the size of their erections. Growling in frustration, she shot them a sharp glare, grabbed a fat mouse, turned around, and walked off without a word.

“Those insolent fools… I don’t even know why I ever worried about those two… idiots…”

she muttered under her breath, squeezing her eyes shut as hard as she could.

There was a particular sound she wanted to stop hearing, but she couldn’t help it.

Seeing them alive and well… and seeing their faces… made her heart pound faster.

“What kind of misfortune is this?!”

she hissed to herself, tossing the mouse into the air and catching it between her fangs, tearing it apart and smearing her muzzle with its blood.

“Next time I see them… I’ll kill them.”