You were a little nervous about your outfit.
You loved dressing feminine, but you only ever did that alone or with your closest friends. Being a tiny, petite trans man was already hard enough when you did dress as masculine as possible. Still, you smoothed down the cute skirt you'd decided to wear. It looked cute with the sweater you'd decided to wear, and you wanted to be true to yourself. Nobody gave cis men shit for dressing feminine, and if they were your friends and your friends' friends, they would surely be chill about your presentation.
You had invited your friends over for a little party, and had told them to bring their friends along as well. It was nothing too crazy, but from what you could guess, there were certainly enough people there to leave your apartment a little crowded. You steeled yourself and walked out of your room to get ready to greet your first guests. You couldn't help the ball of anxiety curled in your stomach like a fat, malicious snake.
Marijuana, you knew, would help with your nerves. You stepped out onto the balcony to smoke, your dog, Sasha, following with a furiously wagging tail.
Your dog was a mutt you'd picked up off the side of the road years ago, and it was absolutely massive. You were positive it had to have some wolf in it, as its fur coat was dense and it was bigger than any other dog you'd ever been in contact with. Still, wolfdog or not, it was a total sweetheart, and wouldn't harm a fly. It was tame enough to be trusted alone with your neighbors cats and kids, which was more than could be said about most dogs.
As you closed your eyes, inhaling the acrid smoke, you scratched Sasha's fluffy head. You were a little nervous, with near-strangers coming to your house to drink and smoke and play party games, but you had your beloved pet. Nothing could possibly hurt you with that big dope around. You forced yourself to relax. The marijuana certainly helped.
As you finished up your smoke, you heard a knock at the door, and Sasha let out a small woof as it raced to the door, seemingly wanting to beat you there in case it was a deadly intruder. Rolling your eyes, you put out the remainder of your joint in the ashtray and went to answer the door.
Over the next hour or so, more people than you even thought possible filled into your apartment. It was a bit overwhelming, and you couldn't be more grateful that you'd had time to take a few hits before everyone arrived. You were certain you'd be an anxious mess without it. As it was, though, you still wanted a bit of a break, and nobody protested when you broke away from the exciting game of beer pong to retrieve more beers.
As you retreated to the kitchen, Sasha stayed stubbornly beside you. It was less crowded in here, as most of your guests were currently either in the bathroom or grouped together around the beer pong table you'd gotten for a ridiculously cheap price and set up in your livingroom. Nobody was interested in coming into a slightly messy kitchen during a party, except to occasionally grab some water.
As you reached into your cabinet, you felt something hot and wet touch your crotch through your thin underwear. You gaspsed and tried to scramble away, but the weight of whatever it was kept you pinned against the cabinet. A hot rush of terrified pleasure filled you, and you kicked out behind you, hard.
You were rewarded with a high pitched yelp as your foot made contact with Sasha, and you whirled around. Instantly, guilt flooded you. You were scared, of course, but it wasn't like the dog knew what it was doing. Sasha looked up at you meekly, clearly confused about why you had hit it. Your face burned, and you apologized to the poor canine quickly.
You removed your underwear, now soaked in dog saliva, and stashed them under the sink. You didn't want any gross dog germs on your pussy, and you felt like people would start looking for you soon if you rushed to your bedroom to change into something more dry.
Grabbing the packs of beers, you walked back to the livingroom.
Soon, the party was in full swing, though the thought of what Sasha had done wouldn't leave your mind. It wasn't like you had enjoyed it, of course! It just felt gross, was all, and you still felt bad for kicking the poor mutt, even if it was genuinely in self defense.
You knocked back your third drink, your head feeling fuzzy from the mix of marijuana and alcohol in your system. Someone had turned music on, and the loud chatter and laughter was beginning to be a bit too much. You decided to make an escape to the balcony to get some fresh air.
Unfortunately, through the glass sliding door that lead to what you'd hoped would be your escape, you could see two figures there. One was one of your close friends, Annabell, on her knees with a cock in her mouth, and the other was a man you didn't recognize. You averted your eyes and stumbled back in shock, stumbling to the floor on your hands and knees.
Immediately, a heavy weight landed on your back, and you let out a terrified cry as whatever it was gripped you tightly. You struggled to get away, and you realized through the haze of terror and substances that Sasha had mounted you, wrapping its arms around your tiny, delicate waist.
You tried to get away, but the damn mutt was too strong. It began to thrust its hips, and to your horror, you felt the dog's hot, slick cock rubbing against your thighs as it tried to fuck you.
You screamed, and the chatter went quiet. There were loud stomps as several people rushed into the room to see what was happening, and you felt your face burn red in embarrassment at the scene.
"Get it off me!" You pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes. Someone laughed and jeered, and a woman pulled out her phone and started recording, snickering.
"Oh my god this is kinda weird" your friend kim said. The tears started dripping down your face, and you tried even harder to pull away. It was futile, though. All you succeeded in doing was causing your arms to give you, though the dogs grip kept your ass up in the air.
