Dinos Do It to They are Saurs by Able Lofton

The story you are about to read was supposed to give one an idea of how my furry personas acted reacted and got along in life. Unfortunately, my significant other was supposed to write the story and I draw it. Her idea of women however is irrevocably warped and the first draft of the story was written up with all the female characters acting like total arrogant bitches so far removed from the personality I gave them that I scrapped the idea of the comic. I now redo the story to make up for the shittyness thrust upon the characters before.

The overbieng, creator of all created mankind from simian stock. Though a few of his earlier creations, ‘angels’ saw this as a hygienic fau pa. The new creature was crude, and not very pleasant to look at, not to mention it’s inability to survive in it’s environment without radically altering or destroying it. The creator however, was delighted in his/her angels’ ideas for ‘improvement’. Though his/her word was law there was still room for friendly competition. He/she allowed the angels a corner of the universe to attempt their experiment. The original Avian/saurian species seemed a better choice for an evolutionary template, even though the creator had abandoned them for the creatures he/she dubbed ’humans’. So it was that far away from humankind the Avaurial race was brought into being. Within a few centuries, the reason for the creators decision to scrap the Avian/saurian project became known. The evolutionary ladder was an incredibly arduous task. What took two or three centuries for humans stretched out to approximately 2 million years in which the Avaurials barely surpassed a fourth grade intelligence. The angels of course were the laughing stock of the celestial community, and most of them broke from the new project to rejoin the human effort. The only two angels to remain kept their faith and were determined to make this work. The creator of course knew that eventually the humans would surpass, invade, and dominate his/her children’s’ pet project, so he/she secretly seeded the Avaurials with wisdom and mental growth. Centuries of war between the primitive Avaurials had reduced the race by 1/3. Once the fighting stopped and intellectual advancements began, the two remaining angel overseers were overjoyed at their accomplishment, and ignorant of the role their creator played in their good fortune. The Avaurial race, though still primitive by human standards, remained in touch with the natural world around them. Eventually almost every 19th century accomplishment by humans had a botanical equivalent among the Avaurials. Botany was the turning point that sparked a new renaissance among the Avaurials. Homes were grown, healthcare was dominated by botanical cures, plants replaced machines. Life was groovy, if a bit slow. Waiting for your house wares and furniture to grow in was a constant sore spot, but probably one of the only ones.

Reala opened her eyes after a fitful night’s sleep. Her vision focused on the concentric circles that made up the crystal skylight of her bedroom ceiling. Sighing she turned her sprawled body to the side, to see the empty spot of the bed beside her, and the sunlight reflecting off the water beyond. This room was an architectural marvel, a natural stone wading pool with a 20×20 foot bed smack in the center covered by a faceted crystal dome that bounced enough light throughout it’s surface to mute the harsh rays but still illuminate the room. The female Avaurial curled up in the center of the bed, contemptuously kicked her pillow into the ‘moat‘, and drew her legs to her chest. This was the third week that her sister and lover Gypsie had been away. Their relationship was unusual not due to it’s incest but because they were both female. In a world where social growth was the new ’in’ thing, a pairing that could not produce offspring was seen as mildly genocidal. There had been a long rough climb to get others to accept them and finally when other samesex couples emerged it threatened to herald a new social order that no Avaurial was completely prepared for.
Reala rolled her 10 foot 3 form over and off the side of the bed splashing lightly into the pool where she tail ruddered to the other side of the room, and emerged. Her home was dark and quiet and only seemed to add to the lonely feeling that hung thick in the air like the scent of a carnivore in heat. The Baobab tree that made up the living quarters of her home was no less impressive. One of the miracles of modern botany, it was a tree grown to a width of half a human city block and roots that extended like stilts 20 feet to the base of the tree above. Gaps in the root spaces were generally filled in by other types of wood or cement or in Reala’s case crystal domes to provide secondary and tertiary rooms. Reala leaned against the countertop and ran her hand over the Volcanus blossom that served as the oven and space heater for cold days. It snapped open in response to movement over it’s fronds and displayed the warm gourd of chai Reala had placed inside it the night before. She took a long swig of the warm tea and sat on the floor cradling the gourd between her knees. The Volcanus had dried her out from the morning swim and its fiery sweet pheromones coursed throughout the house. It was a brilliant way to scent one’s home. If the Volcanus stayed open without a meal it would release a scent to attract prey for an hour then close again. Reala sipped at the tea until the Volcanus closed, (Avaurials were unusually patient and since their planet was the size of Jupiter and hour was never a real problem) Reala stood and stretched popping a few lazy vertebra in her tail. She finished off the gourd, it being the Avaurial equivalent to toast or dry cereal, and padded into the front room to where the family pictures were. Most of them were Gypsie and herself, with a small ’shrine’ of sorts to their parents who had passed away a century earlier. Reala caressed her graduation picture from the botany academy. Those were happier times. Both she and her sister, living on campus, little to no bills to pay, and enjoying the higher educational life of a botany and social growth majors.
Social growth… another name for negotiator… While Reala had decided to go for a safer career of making life’s plant-based advancements, Gypsie had gone for the unpredictable career of negotiating terms with predators. Not that is was distasteful, successful negotiations with predators had helped advance Avaurial society by leaps and bounds in the short time they were enlightened. It was just that when predatory Avaurials banded together in their own ’societies’ they became a damned site more belligerent and war would be on the horizon. Gypsie had only been involved in one such war. A border skirmish really, but it had almost cost her life. Every time there was a border dispute and an expansion expert was needed, Reala prayed to the goddess that Gypsie would not be the latest casualty. This was one such day. Due to the disdain for their samesex lifestyle the authorities were a bit lax in informing Reala of Gypsie’s safety. A constant sore spot.
Reala slipped on her botanist’s robes and put on her hornaments. Two rings that slid into the tiny holes drilled in her horns, and the notch cut into her nose horn, and all connected by a shiny platinum chain to create an inverted triangle. The jewelry was a badge of honor in Avaurial society. It let everyone know that your mate is out laying down their life for the betterment of the race. With a half proud half worried sigh, Reala left for work….

Grigzt Sawtooth snapped up the tiny mammal that crossed her path in one gulp. For a carnivore with only one working eye her aim was extremely impressive. Her second in command handed her another snack which squealed and kicked in protest before losing it’s underbelly to the matron of the Northern predators. Grigzt licked the gore from her maw before continuing her speech.
“Parasaur, I understand your plight, and I am not heartless. I have raised three sets of hatchlings myself. But you must understand, I have a people to support and provide for as well.“ Gypsie nodded seeming nonplussed by the carnage that opened before her. It was common for predators to eat during negotiations, it was more intimidating to the ‘prey races’. of which Gypsie was a part of. She stole a glance at her guard, Pandus Meshleaf a razor fin well versed in predator combat maneuvers. His dislike for the devouring of the live prey was mirrored in the position of his tail. Spiked end forward and body angled to one side in preparation for a quick jab if the predators decided to make negotiations ‘distasteful.’ Gypsie repositioned herself to lay her tail in front of him. Sign language for “calm down, no need to try anything yet”. Pandus remained in position, however, his since of duty overshadowed by his desire to obtain Gypsie’s paw in mate hood. Truth be told, no one was more devoted to Gypsie’s safety on the front lines than he. Even through the head harness he wore to cover the battle scars of a veteran negotiator, his soft yellow eyes never let the female far from their expert gaze. Gypsie took a bite of her own meal, not because she was hungry, but because to show no fear in the presence of a predator was a show of strength and determination. Grigzt smirked and nodded her head to Gypsie who responded;
“We are not asking you to give up your lands as you may think. There has been almost a century of peace between us but we do understand your livelihood is being threatened. Which is why we are prepared to offer three of our farms to your tribe in exchange for the lower portion of the tropic zones.”
Grigzt laughed heartily sending a small shower of blood and fur over her end of the table. “Three plant farms?!? For an entire tropic zone?!? Meat, this is bad comedy.” The last statement punctuated by the slam of a clawed fist on the table. Pandus tensed flipping Gypsie’s tail out of the way. Gypsie placed both hands on the table and leaned in, Pandus’s surprise was obvious. “Matron Sawtooth, you misjudge us. We would not offer you plants but live prey for your people.” Gypsie motioned for the sight fronds that served as a video relay. Placing them before matron Sawtooth she opened the plant and spilt it’s gas pouch. The gas coalesced into a one sided 3-D scene of a farm whose livestock were short muscular mammals that were half the size of the Avaurials and non-sentient.
Gypsie saw the look of interest cross the matrons face as her mouth split with the single phrase, “How many?”
Gypsie sat back and laced her fingers. “At last count, a little more than 7 thousand.”
The matron looked to her second and nodded him away. This was a good sign. “With proper treatment & climate matron, they replenish their ranks almost constantly. The gestation time is 1 cycle.”
Matron Sawtooth stood from the table and walked towards the exit, without looking back she added; “I assume all three farms are equal in size and production?.”
Gypsie fought back the urge to smile and added “Down to the last fern.”
Matron Sawtooth took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder at the herbivores, “Our council shall convene and deliver our decision in the morning.”
Gypsie inclined her head and backed away from the table, as the matron left.
Pandus watched until the footsteps of the larger meat-eater were well away from the room and firmly grabbed Gypsie’s arm; “You may know your predatory psychology, but I have seen Avaurials loose their throats for movements like that. I don‘t know if it‘s bravery or foolishness, but I‘ll never forgive you if you loose your life over a crazy gamble.”
Gypsie placed a hand on Pandus’ chest which drastically reduced the force with which he held her arm. “I know you, Pandus, and your reflexes are just as good as any meat-eater. Better even.”
Pandus’ back plates grew a deep shade of orange-red to match his frustration, ”You really don‘t….Gypsie you can’t expect….why don’t you fuckin’ warn me before you get that close again?!”
Gypsie batted her eyelids and looked away shyly, “You’re right, I’ll let you know next time.” She snapped the strap on his faceplate and flitted out the door with a flirty flick of her tail. Pandus face palmed and adjusted his fang blade to it’s ‘safety’ position before leaving. “Dammit girl.”

The screen in front of Reala showed the current level of expansion on their continent. The Predators area was outlined in a dull red, and herbivores in green. Still no change. Reala watched the expansion reports religiously, for when they were updated Gypsie would be on her way home. Her musings were interrupted by her colleague, Cel. Cel was Ceratoi like her but sported no decorative head horns, having had them abusively cut off in a carnivore S.O.W. camp.
“Banyon, any word yet?“
Reala shook her head and turned to her co-worker. “No….no updates yet. What’s up?”
Cel handed her a sample, “We need a workup for the proliferate phase of this sample. You do that fastest, so there you go. I‘ll keep an eye on the updates for you.”
Reala looked at the sickly looking plant handed to her, “You look like I feel. So Cel, who gets the results?”
Cel shook his head and shrugged, “The order just came down. It’s just supposed to be sent to R&D when the data is collected…..but that’s all I know.”
Reala sniffed at the fronds and frowned. Why does this thing smell like cave moss and bug ass?”
Cel shooed her away with a movement of his hands and turned to his duties. Reala took the sample away and did as she should with it, anxious to get back to watching the expansion reports. The sample itself was of a plant used for maintenance. It stunk to high heaven but was able to metabolize almost any other organic matter in record time. It’s genetic code was spliced with a less pungent insect chemical that together caused uncontrollable retching, bleeding and headaches to anything whose digestion was designed for high protein catabolism. Namely predators. The chemical released would bind with any unbonded protein and form a vesicant/anticoagulant that could only be counteracted by vitamin K the key ingredient in all leafy green veggies and ferns.
Reala sent her lab result up to R&D happy that there was one more chip to tip the scales in favor of herbivores. It was at that moment Cel peeped his head into her office, “Hey sugarplum, you decent?” True he knew Reala was spoken for but there was no law against healthy flirting. Especially to a species who mated like mad weasels every 4 cycles.
“I’m never decent, Cel. Haven’t you heard? I‘m a sexual deviant pussy lover.”
Cel rasp berried, “Alright clitmaster the updates are in and the negotiations seem to be successful.”
Reala’s mood lightened considerably as she rushed out of the office to the front desk. True enough the required area on the map showed a bit more green in some places and a bit more red in others. Reala traced her finger along the coast to find the area Gypsie had gone to barter for. Green. Reala leapt about squealing in girlish delight and kissed Cel full on the muzzle. Now she could really sport her ceremonial hornaments with pride.
“I’m outta here baby!” She exclaimed. Naturally due to the volatile nature of negotiations one was free from work to be with their loved one when negotiations were successful. Reala placed her palm on the time disk and made sure she was signed out for the day, leaving a bewildered and blushing Cel with her workload.

The Mid morning sky was a bright yellow orange as the rising suns made their way across the first 14 hours of the A.M. Reala sat on the ferry to the central communications hub where Gypsie would be. Four other Avaurials bearing the hornaments sat as well. But one sat alone. Her face was a mixture of worry and false hope. The reason was obvious, somewhere a dispute had not gone well. Normally hornaments were removed due to the unknown status of one’s mate, but it was common practice to remain hopeful even in the face of bad news. Reala sat near the anxious female and cleared her throat. “H- h-ello.”
There was no response save a nod of acknowledgement. “My name’s Reala, I..umm.. Well I hope to the goddess and maker for good news to us all.”
For the first time the Avaurial female looked up. She was young, almost too young, right on the beginning fringes of adulthood. In a quiet voice she responded; “Thank you, I hope our prayers are answered.” Reala gave her a reassuring hug and sat with her in silence until they arrived.
The ferry pulled into the receiving port and the riders disembarked, Reala and the other who’s name was Tsintai were the last. For the young one’s sake Reala hoped Gypsie didn’t make too much of a scene. Or more appropriately SHE didn’t. Around them others emerged from their ferries rushing screaming in joy, or anguish; hugging mates, hatchlings relative and themselves. She took Tsintai to the reporting desk and gave her name, after what seemed like a long search through the files, the clerk found no return passage for Tsintai’s mate. In fact none of the unit had reported back from their assigned area. Tsintai remained strong for all of 20 seconds but once the realization hit her, her wails quickly belied the size of her young lungs. As was the way, assistance was on standby to comfort the grieving, and as the black robed Avaurials converged on Tsintai helping her to a comfortable booth, Reala couldn’t help but well up with tears herself. In her sympathy she almost missed the loud quasi-melodic !!HA-WWOOOOONK!! of Gypsie as she spotted her sister. Reala spun around and scanned the crowd finding her flamboyant sister standing atop the stairs hands on her hips bellowing through her hollow headcrest at the top of her reserves. Reala was just about to respond with her own yell but though better to move to where Tsintai couldn’t see her. Gypsie closed the distance with her sister before Reala could get too far from Tsintai. The two collided and crashed to the floor. No one really cared though, the terminal was full of such reunions and meetings. Gypsie and Reala laid there on the floor, a big ball of Ceratoi/Parasoi affection. Only after their kissing was obviously that of lovers and not family did the staring and murmurs start. Tsintai was the first to make a statement. She strode over as Gypsie and Reala stood up giggling. At first her voice was barely audible, and even the black robed did not foresee a problem. After all it was Reala who brought Tsintai in. They‘d assumed she was family.
“It’s……not….fair… you LIED TO ME!!”
Reala stopped suddenly, looking at Tsintai. “I never lied to you.” But the younger Avaurial was overcome with grief and would have none of it. Her tail lashed angrily knocking over one of her assisting entourage. “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!! YOU GIVE NOTHING BACK TO OUR RACE!!! WHY SHOULD YOU!!! HOW COULD YOU!! I HAVE NO MATE NOW AND YOU–Y-YOU FLAUNT YOUR SICK……DEVIANCE FOR ALL TO SEE!!??”
Gypsie flushed an angry shade of red in her crest and moved to stand in front of Tsintai. Reala grabbed her love’s arm and shook her head, pulling Gypsie away. Tsintai was taken to the comfort booths screaming all sorts of degrading and insulting remarks at the lesbian couple, with Gypsie hell-bent on showing that little girl the proper way to
‘tail slappa-bitch‘. “Re, I know she‘s grieving but still, s‘no reason to be that fuckin‘ ignorant.”
Reala could say nothing. After all, she agreed. It was only the girls youth that made Reala curb Gypsie’s fury. Had Tsintai been old enough she’d have caught a heaping helping of headcrest in the mouth. Especially after Reala had been the only one to comfort her on the way here. Reala held Gypsie by the cheeks and softly shhhhhhhhshed her angry sis. A sexy flick of her tongue across Gypsie’s nose pad and the incident was forgotten. “Hungry? Gyps?”
Gypsie shook her head, “I think I’ve been grossed out to much to eat after that meeting. Matron Sawtooth of the Northern clans kinda overdid the whole ‘watch me slaughter a live animal‘ thing. Though I could use something strong and hard.”
Reala gagged, though she was lesbian her sister was proudly Bi.
Gypsie swatted Reala on the rump playfully, “I meant a drink, you goofy horn-head.”
Reala squawked cutely, “I knew that!”

The bar Rimshots was part comedy club and Reala’s favorite watering hole. This midday there was no comedy, only drinks. Gyps and Re sat in a darkened corner nest snuggled in each with a bottle of very strong passionfruit liquor. The twin suns had begun their slow decent. Finally, and the past four hours were a half drunken, incestuous, lesbian, Avaurial gropefest. Both Reala and Gypsie had gotten comfortable, the nested areas were private and both Gypsie’s uniform and Reala’s robes lay in a pile at the foot of the nest. Reala and Gypsie lay side by side legs and tails entwined. They did finally get hungry and had fruit salad brought in from the kitchen. There was a long moment of silence before Reala spoke, “I feel kind of guilty you know, That girl, Tsintai? I know how she feels. I mean every time you get called away I…. And for such long periods. They don’t even tell me if you’re okay.”
Gypsie honked lowly and placed her glass to Reala’s mouth. “Now I’m here. You can put all that behind you, and we got three weeks to make up for. Right now I‘m feeling all types of pent up stuff.“
Reala sipped the liquid and slipped her tail farther up Gypsie’s inner thigh, “What kind of stuff?”
Gypsie responded by pouring a few gulps of liquor over Reala’s exposed breast and letting it run into her own mouth, “The usual, stuff that makes you moan and groan and cum like the dinoslut you are.” Gypsie let her tongue linger, tracing it’s way up Re’s breast and circling her nipple a few times before slipping the hardened nub into her mouth and biting firmly pulling it with her teeth.
Reala split open a pear and slipped it between Gypsie’s thighs. “I’m the slut? Well look who’s all made up like a hot-slut buffet.”
Gypsie grabbed the pear and smeared it’s juices all over her labia grinning as the churning of fruit juice and wet pussy created quite a joyful noise in the confines of the dimly lit room. She took the mangled fruit and mouth-to-mouth-fed it to Reala. “Well, the salad bar IS open, and they‘ve got your favorite.”
Reala swallowed the bit sized Anjou and slipped down between Gypsie’s legs, ”Mmm, fresh Parasaur! a rare delicacy.” Reala fed her tongue up the outer edge of Gypsie’s labia, the flavor of Gypsie’s sex and the pear’s juices delicious to Reala’s enhanced sense of smell and taste. She churred softly running her hands over Gypsie’s ass as she cleaned her sister’s sex of nectar. As her hands found purchase against Gypsie’s inner thighs she spread the thick wide gams of her lover and pressed her tongue into the warm inviting depths dining deeply on her snack of ‘Pear’asaur honey. Her deep rumbling purs reached their zenith at her tongue and the long 2 foot muscle coiled and flopped it’s way past Gypsie’s clit dozing it firmly with each passing millimeter, until Reala was almost buried to her tonsils into Gypsie’s hot snatch. Gypsie firmly held her sister’s horns and pumped her hips as her pussy got it’s long awaited bath. She ground her wide pink hips to Reala’s face forcing Reala’s face in deeper & mashing her clit against a strategically placed nose horn. Gypsie moaned low in her chest the hollow horn verberating with the effort, and enjoying every stroke of the tongue inside her. Reala kept the depth and pressure going immensely enjoying the way Gypsie took control of her head via her natural ‘handlebars’ and mashed her face full of pussy. Re felt her own sex flush with excitement followed by a slight trickle of excitement that cut a path down her thigh and into the cushions of the nest. This only served to have her redouble her efforts diving her tongue in and out of Gypsie’s pussy panting and whimpering as she was practically drowned in wet warm flesh.
On the receiving end, Gypsie became aware of the slowly growing puddle between her sister’s legs, and volunteered the tip of her tail to alleviate the need for invasion. Reala gasped warmly as her sister’s tail slithered over her pussy and planted it self between her cheeks. Reala closed her eyes in anticipation, her hips doing a barely perceptible rolling getting the tailtip covered in her honey. Gypsie had more of a difficult time trying to get her tail into Reala with a two foot tongue tasting her cervix and manhandling her clit at the same time. She had to let go of Reala’s head. There was no way she could ride her sis’s face properly and tailfuck her at the same time. Gypsie tried to sit up, get her bearings, but it only increased the pressure of the invading love muscle. Propped up on her elbows she panted, half dazed, focused her vision on Reala’s hiked up tail and thrust her tail up inside the wet spot. Reala squeaked and yanked out about a foot of tongue roughly sending a shock of orgasmic energy up Gypsie’s spine. The roles had reversed just that quick. Reala giggling half burried between Gypsie’s thighs and Gypsie having lost her mind with an intense orgasm, unable to do anything but grab and knead her tits in with every gush of love from her pussy. Reala sat squarely on Gypsie’s tail sending a good foot or two into her lovebox as she sat back licking her muzzle covered with Gypsie’s hunny. Gypsie eventually came down from her high, and pulled Reala into a long kiss that ended in another bout of laughter.