Sefyra’s Bestiality Diary: An Introduction, and the First Night

My name is Sefyra Feralheart, and I’ve always been an odd charr… I know that. My favorite courses in the fahrar were archery and animals. That’s not the weird part; everyone knew I was destined to be a ranger. No one expected I would embrace them not as mere companions… But as lovers. I got a lot of attention from male charr; my golden fur, creamy white belly, soft face and luscious purple eyes could apparently have ‘gotten me any male I wanted’. I know they probably meant ‘other charr males’ in particular, and they’re not wrong, but those weren’t the males I sought out.
I’m writing this journal for my own - and select few others’ - enjoyment. Bestiality truly is the most forbidden fruit. The passion of animals is the purest, most addicting drug that ever was… And to think, most rangers squander such incredible potential by keeping them as platonic ‘pets’.
Not me, though. Read on; I don’t think I’ve truly tamed a beast until I take his rich, feral cum inside me, or make her body tremble with pleasure that most female beasts rarely enjoy. I’ve had plenty of practice by now, and it all started one night in the fahrar with my loyal Stalker…

I’m told Wisp came from the distant jungle. I wouldn’t know, he was one of many ‘reserve’ beasts that the fahrar had on standby for aspiring rangers like myself to put their teachings to the test on the care and utilization of a companion in the field. He was my first, in more ways than one. He was hesitant to join me, as most beasts are with untrained rangers, but as soon as he saw what I had to offer over the others when I snuck out one night for a ‘secret’ training session, let’s just say our teachers were very impressed with how quickly he became attached to me!
I’ll never forget that first night with him. I was getting to that age where I was more than a little horny all the time, but other charr boys weren’t exactly my type. I was more interested in the beasts of the world. They never judged or made stupid decisions or rushed ahead of things before their partners were ready - you know, like charr boys.
Wisp, though… There was no awkward conversation or courting rituals. We ate dinner and slept in different locations until the hour was late, and I snuck out of my bunk to go see him. He was happy to see me like no one else ever was, and I made the most of it. I reciprocated his affections, his licks, his playful scratches, removing my clothes as we got more physical. His claws snagged my fabric less and combed my fur more, and our cat-like batting and chasing turned to wrestling and wrestling into groping. My pussy was burning and soaked with adolescent lust, and he didn’t protest as I explored his feline sheath with my paws. Beasts weren’t bound by silly rules and social customs; he was just as happy to be getting his cock tended to as I was to be playing with it. I layed in such a way that my body was parallel to his, my fine-furred slit in clear sight of him while I fondled his maleness, and he seemed just as interested in me as my pawpads worked back his sheath and revealed the spiny cock within. I don’t know exactly what hunger overcame me, but I found myself brushing my mane from my face and shoving his length into my mouth, wary of my teeth, but lavishing that feline shaft with my tongue. Cats were notoriously small and unendowed, and their barbs were the butt of most jokes about them, but only half of that was true. He was small, but eager, like a candy on my tongue. As soon as my mouth closed around it, he let out a gentle rumble and bucked his hips up, that natural breeding instinct starting to surge, just wanting to fuck a warm hole - my mouth, in this case. The barbs were hardly as terrible as stories made them sound, many people forget that feline penises are so small because the females openings are too; mine were much larger than any feral feline. My tongue worked him more than my lips did, and the dozens of tiny barbs barely caught my flesh at all, feeling more like the rough bristles of a fur brush than the impaling daggers everyone would have you believe. I lost myself so thoroughly in suckling on my beast’s cock, it took several minutes to realize I was drinking down his precum and he had been purring intensely the entire time. He was enjoying it, but I wondered how much more I could get from him? It took all my strength to pull him from my mouth, but I did, and changed my position for him, lying flat on my back, raising my head only to look at him, beckoning.
Part of mastering our beasts was knowing everything there was to know about them. What most were interested was combat, diet, habitats, but social aspects, relationships, and breeding were also lessons we had to learn. I knew how jungle stalkers mated, with the female low to the ground and her opening at the right level for him to simply mount and penetrate her. The males never lasted long, but that didn’t concern me much… I just wanted the thrill of being mated by a beast, of having his essence inside me, the most forbidden seed: that of another creature.
And he was just as eager.
It was no taboo to him. It was the offer of a hot place to bury his cum. As soon as we locked eyes, he was on his feet again, jumping on top of me after following his nose to the source of that intense scent that was my soaked slit. I threw my arms around and like a pair of teenagers we were lost in virgin passion, with boiling blood and lust at a fever pitch but unable to penetrate. He thrusted and humped at my bare crotch, rutting my fur as I squirmed around, trying to get him inside me, then he would overcompensate and jab at my tailhole or slip off to one side, and then I would do the same and we’d be back at square one, but it didn’t slow us down. I was desperate to have him inside me, and he was desperate to be there. Our juices mixed and melded long before we did, but when we finally did… There are no words.
When the differences of our bodies finally compromised and his tip found my entrance, he slammed into me with force I’d never seen in the wild between two of the same species, and his groin was pressed against mine almost immediately, both of us reaching orgasm in that instant. He bottomed out inside me, his balls pressing against my rump as he let out a deep, guttural growl and his hackles raised, and I felt a flood of heat start to pool in my belly. I lost myself and let out a sharp, filthy moan that I quickly tried to stifle as all my core muscles milked that cat cock of all that glorious seed. He lasted about as long as I had expected but the pleasure of those few seconds of penetration were greater than I had even imagined. The rush of feeling a non-charr male shove his length into me and spill his seed almost immediately was filthy, taboo bliss. No rules, no fahrar, no politics, talking, foreplay, none of that junk that detracted from normal relationships. Just pure beastial desire to mate.
My first was technically with another charr in the fahrar, but after this, that experience was dull and unmemorable, and as far as I was concerned never happened. 
From this night on, my body was for the beasts of the world, and I would have their precious seed.