BFG [Gnoll; Light Domination and Submission, Lewd]: When Anon is held hostage by a pack of gnolls, he finds that the leader may have her eyes on him for more than one reason.

>You are anon, loveless loner and interim courier
>Recently stationed somewhere in Afrikenyubabwe for a sabbatical or something
>You were sent from a small town with a sealed envelope and a backpack across the savannah plains to a compound
>A compound now controlled by gnolls
>It used to be some kind of outpost or reservation back in the day, the hyena people keeping their distance at first
>They’re scavengers by nature, taking clothes, food, and even weapons from people who wander too far onto the plains
>Mostly dumb tourists
>Then the marauding gnolls learned to use guns, and all the humans in the compound were kicked out
>You’ve heard many rumors about the gnolls, but they keep to themselves most of the time and you’ve never seen one up close before
>Today’s the day you’ll get the chance, after you were sent out for “negotiations” with the gnolls
>Strangely enough, you weren’t given much briefing on what the negotiations are supposed to be or what to do when you get there
>And you were told to take as many of your belongings as you can carry
>”It might take a while,” is all they said before shooing you out of town
>You weren’t even given a ride over
>Guess it’s so you don’t spook them or something
>So now you’re walking half the day until you see the fenced in compound, right after taking the last swig of your canteen
>The first gnolls you spot are males perched up in the watchtowers flanking the front gate
>They are stout, burly creatures with some pretty mismatched clothing; most wear casual clothes stretched over their bestial frames and leather scraps roped together for some kind of armor
>The males would probably be a good head taller than you if they weren’t so hunched over
>You wonder if it’s because of their skeletal shape or because they are always submissive to the females
>Oh yeah, most of the stories about the gnolls involve the noticeably larger and more aggressive hyena women, who tend to be the dominate ones
>That, and rumors about what they’re packing “down below”
>You see a few females gather around the gate as you approach, pushing the smaller males out of the way
>They’re almost all carrying some type of firearm, from shotguns to rifles, all battered and in states of disrepair
>Most have their manes done up in very punkish ways, some dyed in pastel colors and knotted with bones
>Then the biggest gnoll of the pack steps forward as the sea of hyenas parts
>She has a scraggly mane, a toothy snarly, and her muzzle is painted chalk white in rib-like stripes
>She wears a flak jacket that barely contains a hefty pair of breasts and none of the muscles on her arms, and a pair of dusty slacks with numerous holes for her fur to poke out of
>Her hair is spiked up a bit, but droops to the sides from its length, running along her neck and even hanging down her back like a horse tail
>Her right arm is cleanly shaven to show off a heavily inked tattoo
>You can’t make out what it’s supposed to be, but part of it looks like tally marks
>A lot of tally marks
>Oh, and resting on her shoulders behind her neck is a massive gun as black as her spots and practically as long as she is tall
>Talk about a BFG…
>Big Fucking Gnoll
>She’s intimidating to say the least, but part of you can’t help by be impressed by her force of presence
>”Should we let him in, Ngarlu?” one of the males asks
>The large hyena woman pivots and smacks him with the butt of her gun
>”Well, dipstick, we’re not gonna to get him when he’s out there, are we?” she says, her voice both raspy and vampish
>The gate slides open and you gingerly present the envelope
>She snatches it from you and rips it open with her teeth
>The other gnolls wait eagerly around her as her narrowed eyes scan the inside letter
>For a moment you wonder if it’s all just a show; are gnolls even literate?
>But she seems perfectly capable of reading, as her mouth pulls back into a devilish grin
>She lets out an infectious laugh, spurring the others to join in even without context
>But they know to stop when she does, and it’s totally quiet
>”’Anon’, is it?” she says in an unsettlingly sweet voice
>You nod slowly
>”Sorry, love, but someone back home must really hate you. Well enough to make you their patsy, anyway,” she says
>Patsy?
>”You see, we make a deal with your little town.” She plants her gun into the dirt and leans into it, waving the paper between her claws
>She’s right in your face with those pearly teeth, those flared nostrils…
>…those beautiful sienna eyes…
>”Ev’ry few weeks we get a nice crate of guns and goods from them. They give us the boomsticks, and we ‘promise’ not to fire their way.”
>A few of the females chuckle, with their guns in some pretty raunchy positions
>”We even leave some game out there for them to hunt.”
>She crumples up the letter and tosses it over her shoulder
>One of the males grabs it in his mouth and swallows it instantly
>”But it looks like they’re tryin’ to bribe us in another way, by sendin’ some poor whelp for collateral.”
>The rest of the pack creeps in, leaving you no place to escape
>One of them snatches your backpack and flings it into a cluster of smaller gnolls, who descend on it like it’s prey
>”You ain’t worth the same as those guns, and I think we might have to pay them a little a visit soon…” 
>In one quick motion she swings the gun around you, pulling it against you 
>And you against her
>”But in the meantime, love, you can be damn sure we’re gonna’ get as much use out of you as we can.”

>In the center of the compound is what seems like a workshop
>Inside is full of random pieces of technology and equipment on tables all scavenged by the gnolls
>Busted radios, dismantled guns, boxes of scrap metal
>And a few blinded windows too high to climb out of
>Ngarlu pushes you inside, making you trip against the debris on the floor
>”You humans have some nice shit, but everythin’ we bring back ain’t workin’ so well. Fix it for us.”
>It definitely wasn’t a request
>You are left alone with the piles of junk as she locks you in
>You aren’t the engineer they probably think you are, but as you begin tinkering with the stuff you see that it’s actually not too hard to fix
>Most of it is just a frayed wire here or some loose screws there
>Even the weapons seem easy enough to put back together
>They didn’t leave you ammo, though
>You wonder if all this stuff was just mishandled when they brought it back with them
>It feels good to get so many things working again, but you remember after a while that you’re still technically a prisoner
>Maybe you could take the box of scraps and make a battle suit, or…
>The door swings open and one of the grunts drops a plate of mystery meat and browning fruit on the floor for you
>It definitely looks like the gnoll took a taste or two on the way over
>You eat your meal and get back to the task
>After a few more hours, Ngarlu returns to inspect your completed work
>”Not too bad, runt. I guess you deserve a break after all y-“
>She stops, sniffing the air for a moment
>The two of you stare at each other for what feels like forever
>She flicks the end of her snout with her thumb
>”Get over here, and I’ll show you where you’re gonna to be sleepin’”
>You follow her to the barracks, neither of you saying a word until you arrive at what seems like a storage closet
>Inside are a small cot and a table
>”This will be your home, now,” she sneers. “Make sure you keep the door closed. Gotta make sure the men don’t break you too soon.”
>You’re left alone in complete darkness

>The next two days follow the same pattern: wake up, get sent to the workshop, take a short break for food, return to your tiny room
>Each step has someone either guarding you or guiding you around
>If it’s not Ngarlu herself, it’s usually another female leading a few grunts as well
>They don’t miss a chance to shove you into walls or rip holes in your shirt
>On the fourth day in the workshop, you realize just how much you reek from sweat
>Ngarlu seems to notice as well
>”Alright, we don’t need you stinkin’ up the place. You’re gonna to have to get cleaned up.”
>She takes you to part of the compound with indoor, tiled showers
>Looks like the place doesn’t get much cleaning, since the drains are clogged with clumps of fur
>”Alright, clothes off,” she says
>She doesn’t have her gun with her this time, but you’re not fighting her hand-to-hand
>It’s embarrassing to strip in front of her, for sure
>But her being non-human almost takes the edge off a bit
>Still, you remove your underwear much slower than the rest
>When you’re fully exposed, Ngarlu gives you a catcall
>”No sense coverin’ up, runt. You got nothin’ I won’t see eventually anyway.”
>You turn the water on and step under the streams
>You keep facing the wall as you lather up, using a lonely bar of soap that’s practically growing mushrooms on it
>Eventually you have to twist and bend to get your whole body clean
>You steal a glance at Ngarlu, who looks almost mesmerized by your junk
>You turn away and scrub your hair, and that’s when you hear the pattering and clicking of her paws on the tiles approaching you
>”Get in there deep, runt,” she says as she digs her nails into your scalp. “You’re not bringin’ any bugs into my barracks.”
>You let her do her thing, not wanting to piss her off
>Admittedly, the “massage” feels amazing
>That is, until she grabs a clump of your hair and pulls you back
>You stumble right into her
>And then you’re pushed away
>”Watch it!” she barks. “You’re gettin’ my clothes wet!”
>The whole thing befuddles you
>SHE pulled your into HER, didn’t she?
>”Great, now it’s all damp,” she says in what sounds like a practiced tone
>Before you can say anything, she grabs the bottom of her flak jacket and pulls it over her head with one fluid jerk, taking her bra off along with it
>Her weighty breasts bounce free, large in size and lightly furred compared to the rest of her body, each one capped with a dark nipple visible even among the hair
>Completely unabashed in her partial nudity
>She doesn’t give you any time to ogle, and spins you back around to face the wall
>Your hair is once again combed with her claws, but only from one hand (paw?) this time
>The other is wrapped around your waist, dancing a little too close to your groin
>She pulls you into her body, clearly not caring about the wetness anymore
>You can feel her breasts against your spine, followed by those soft nipples
>There’s no mistaking how erect they are as they brush against your shoulder blades
>You’re afraid to move back against her, but she’s gripped too tightly on you to escape
>But you relax and learn to enjoy it
>A little too much
>She’s working through your pits, and then moves to the hair in the south
>She skims against your growing arousal with her hand and recoils
>”Alright, shower’s over.”
>She shuts off the water and tosses you a ragged towel
>You go to retrieve your clothes, but she intercepts them
>”These are ruined,” she says, like you’re a dog who peed on them. “Wait here.”
>You are left to dry off as she leaves with your things
>You think you can hear sniffing right after she leaves your sight
>In a few minutes she returns with a new outfit
>Ill-fitting shirt, ripped pants, and some kind of animal-hide vest
>Once again you’re led back to the barracks, but you walk right by your closet
>She stops you at a different room, this one a little bigger than the other and not so dangerously close to the ones occupied by the grunts
>”G’night,” she says after shutting you in

>The next week follows a stranger pattern
>You toil in the workshop
>You’re “forced” to take a shower with Ngarlu, who now wears shorts but still no top
>And then you’re led to a completely different bedroom in the evening
>First it’s a little farther into the barracks, but soon you’re on higher floors
>Now you’re on the “alphas’” floor, with all the gnoll women who glare at you from their doors
>Ngarlu even drops in to check on your progress in the workshop every hour or so, dropping off more junk for you to sift through
>You don’t ask where she gets it, though
>What she doesn’t give you is a way to cool down as you work up a sweat each day
>In fact, the shades on the workshop windows have been torn off completely, cooking you when the sun gets a direct shot
>The sweat is profuse now
>And the heat becomes unbearable
>And your temper gets shorter with every electronic you struggle to fix
>When Ngarlu checks up on you late in the day she picks up the bulky television you had been devoting much of your time to
>You can vizualize the machine’s fate of being dropped to the ground, undoing a few days’ worth of effort instantly
>Without thinking, you lose your cool
>You shout at her to put the television down, your voice reverberating in the workshop
>And she complies
>Not very gently, mind you
>The screen cracks and the components jostle around inside as she slams it on the table
>At first you’re ready to hear a demon roar at you
>But when that doesn’t come, you almost think she might CRY from your outburst
>The expression on her muzzled face is deadpan for an eternity
>Finally, those thin black lips part carefully
>”You…” she breathes, sending a chill up your back
>Ngarlu closes the distance, her outstretched arm clearing everything on the table
>You’re not going to dare yell at her for the damage on all that
>Her hot breath washes over you as she looms over your dripping body
>”You are PERFECT,” she says in exasperation
>Pardon?
>In an instant you’re hoisted up and dropped onto the now-vacant table, flanked by her muscular arms
>”Do you realize how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear a male raise their tone to me? To CHALLENGE me?”
>You can only smile nervously
>She digs her snout into your clothes and then draws in deeply, puffing out her chest into your face as she proceeds to arch her back
>The gnoll exhales slowly and looks down to you
>You flinch as her mouth opens, but it’s only her tongue you see
>A fairly large tongue, comparatively speaking
>She laps up your salty, dripping flesh ravenously
>The fear rekindles a bit for a moment
>She wouldn’t EAT you, right?
>Right?
>But when she stops there’s a sultry look to her eyes that you would never expect from such a bestial creature
>”Humans have been this girl’s secret desire for years,” she says. 
>It’s a little funny how such a powerhouse of fur, muscle, and primal heritage could talk about herself like she had a teenage crush
>”Your smooth skin, your scent, your way of workin’ those tools…”
>The subtlety with that one struck you like a rhino to the gut
>She pulls her legs onto the table one at a time, now crouched over you
>The integrity of the table becomes your biggest fear now
>”I want you to fight back a bit,” she warns you. “I don’t mean to hurt you, but as long as ONE of us is enjoying this I ain’t stoppin’.”
>Her legs splay out on top of your own as she resumes coating you with her tongue
>Your arms are pinned to the table, the flow of blood getting constricted
>At least it has other places to go to
>You feel the adrenaline coursing through you, and, heading her words, you push back against her
>At first your retaliation is weak, but you soon let loose as if wrestling with a bratty sibling
>You know deep down you’d never overpower her, even if you put all your energy into it
>She squeezes your legs together with her thighs, redoubling her puppy kisses on your face
>Now your erection is even trying to fend her off
>But the biggest mistake the gnoll makes is letting Anon get a chance to catch his breath
>When she pauses her licking for some air you make the counterattack
>Your tongue plunges into her muzzle, trying to grapple with her own
>Her eyes light up for a second before closing dreamily
>She obviously likes you taking initiative, so you push your luck a bit
>When you wrench your arms free they dive into her jacket, ripping it open before you slip right in under her bra
>You try your damnedest to hold those whole breasts as your palms glide over her nipples
>Now she’s moaning into you, easing back on the strength she’s exerting on you
>That is, until you try to flip her over
>As if sensing your intentions, her vigor floods back and pins you down once more
>”Love, you wouldn't make a lady lie on some filthy ol’ table, would you?”
>She slides down off the table and pulls you with her by the collar
>”If you’re tryin’ to get dirty, I have a much better place for us.”
>Ngarlu leads you out the workshop and towards the barracks, with your neck in a teasing chokehold
>You ascend higher than you’ve ever been so far in the barracks
>Up to the top-most level
>”OUT, ALL OF YOU!” she roars
>Several gnolls loitering in the hall dash back down the stairs
>A few even run from their own rooms to vacate the floor entirely
>”They know when a girl’s gotta have her private time,” she says, beaming
>She leads you to the last room on the floor
>The largest room in the barracks
>HER room
>It’s covered from floor to ceiling in animal pelts, weaponry both prized and retired, wood masks, and even a few paintings of the savannah
>Oh, and your old clothes are peeking out of a dresser drawer, still stained with old sweat
>”Lived-in” comes to mind, but so does “cozy”
>She pulls you over to the bed, perhaps the comfiest you’ve ever seen before
>”Now then, what was it you were tryin’ to do, again?”
>You tackle her to the bed and resume being tangled up in her body
>Clothes are torn off along the way without you even realizing it, and you can feel her plush fur brush against your naked skin
>It feels even softer than the sheets
>You kiss some more, and then you’re nipping at her neck
>Her claws dig into your skin, but don’t break the surface
>If her tail could escape the smothering, it would probably be wagging furiously
>Ngarlu is completely vulnerable when you crawl back to the end of the bed and pry those meaty thighs apart, exposing the femininity she guards so dearly day after day
>Well, at least now you know those rumors about gnoll women were bullshit
>Still, her nether lips are far more pronounced and swollen than you’ve ever fantasized about human women
>So what technique works on a hyena?
>You do what you can to pleasure her
>Burring your nose into the crevice, lapping up her juices, digging into the folds with your fingers
>Her thighs lock around your head as you nibble on the flesh softly, but she no longer has the strength to deter you
>She begins to whimper, her arms bending back and gripping the backboard tight enough that you’re positive you hear it cracking
>You don’t have much time down below before she pulls you closer by the armpits with her feet, curling you into a full embrace
>”D-don’t go and do somethin’ I’m gonna to have to pay you back for later,” she huffs into your ear. “I’m not gonna do down first…”
>Well, you beat her to it anyway
>”…So that means we’re gonna have to do this together.”
>She props you up on her stomach, leaning forward and coaxing your growth to full length with a few licks and a couple of deep-muzzle sucks
>It’s just enough to lubricate you
>She definitely doesn’t want to waste much time on oral
>Oh well, maybe later
>She doesn’t take lead, as you anticipated, but lets you slide back to her ready entrance
>And so you drive into her
>The heat is incredible, and she holds you up with her arms as you begin to buck forward
>She’s keeping you away at full wingspan, so when you try to fondle her breasts you end up tugging at the teats whenever you draw back
>Her hands then wrap around you and aid your thrusts, pulling you forward with each grunt
>It’s not easy to be the top when such a massive creature is essentially using you like a life-size sex toy
>The rhythm picks up gradually, and you wonder if the walls are going to be enough to stifle your noises
>You kind of hope they aren’t
>The pace picks up, and you’re matting her fur down with your sweat
>She bellows and whines, building up the imminent finale
>You climax in perfect unison, though Ngarlu’s cries drown yours out
>She begins to laugh triumphantly as you flop onto her chest
>It’s still just as infectious, and you join in
>The two of you lie together for some time
>You gaze at the framed savannahs, and you can faintly hear the wildlife within them
>And sniffing
>”Anon,” she sighs
>You’re soon switching positions, with her mounted over you
>The setting sun through the window is a halo around her wild beauty
>”When we’re done, you’re gonna need a shower”

>Months pass, and the compound is now your home
>The gnolls’ “visit” to the human town never comes, as you’re eventually seen as a fair exchange
>You continue to be their tinkerer, fixing their equipment and even making new commodities like the humans have
>The transition into the pack has a rocky beginning
>The gnolls who once sized you up to be their next plaything gaze on in confusion to see their leader followed by a human so closely
>The women were even a little envious, but Ngarlu made sure everyone knew who you belonged to
>It was a turbulent time for a while, as everyone seemed to want you to go back to your hometown
>The males because they felt you’d steal away all their women
>And the females because they hoped you could bring back some human men for them
>Eventually, though, a change happened with the male gnolls
>They began being more assertive, challenging the dominance of the females
>Of course, they never got too far 
>The ladies were always on top, but they loved that the male gnolls were growing more of a backbone
>Hunched ones, but backbones nonetheless
>Which means you had Ngarlu all to yourself with no fear of becoming the pack’s chew toy or breeding slave
>And speaking of breeding…
>It’s a cooler, breezy morning out
>The kind that keeps you in bed for a little longer than usual, nestled up against the back of your furred lover
>You stroke her hair as she stirs awake
>”Morning, Anon,” she says, turning toward you
>Her gorgeous face comes first, still feral in shape and decoration but breathtaking in passion
>Then her breasts flop over to rest between you two, stacked heavy and engorged with those perky thick black nipples looking out at you
>Finally, the gravid swell of her belly arcs over, cradled by her arm
>It’s absolutely immense, even in spite of her overall size
>Even the gnoll midwives are shocked
>She’s apparently got a little more growing to do in the coming weeks
>You rub your hands over her stomach, the fur stretched taught to where you can see a little of the skin underneath
>Nobody has the nerve to question her choice in mates, with her holding you close to her swollen middle everywhere you go
>When Ngarlu’s waddling around the compound, she’s just as commanding and intimidating as ever to the lesser gnolls
>Only now when she bullies them, it’s usually by threatening to crush them with her bulk
>Or “shove them up inside to see the cubs”
>But when she’s alone with you, she’s an entirely different hyena
>She strokes her pregnant belly without pause, sometimes leaning over it and laughing in unrepressed rapture
>More than once she laughs to the point of tears dripping onto her stomach
>She confides in you her happiness; never did she think she’d be gifted with someone like you
>That she’d end up taking the best of the worst among the submissive males
>On one hand, she would have been much more impressed by the budding confidence of the gnoll men
>But on the other hand, it’s all thanks to you that they’ve become what they are in the first place
>It’s all thanks to you
>”Anon”
>You break away from your thoughts, now lost in the gnoll’s unbroken love for you
>”You’re gonna have to get back to workin’ on those cribs today,” she says
>You place a palm on her belly, trying to feel for movement
>Ngarlu only laughs
>”Not quite,” she says. “I just want you to get dirty so we can hit the showers.”
>As you rub your thumb over her naval with one hand you bring the other to her muzzle
>Your lips connect for a good morning morning kiss