This was made using a local install of Reforge for Stable Diffusion using 3WolfMond: https://huggingface.co/Xeno443 . I'd recommend any or all of the 'Mond models, they're all some of the best furry SDXL models.

For the upload Tail Tagger was used to assist in tagging: https://github.com/renfald/tail-tagger . Along with the JPT-3 for AI assisted tags: https://huggingface.co/RedRocket/JTP-3/tree/main/models?not-for-all-audiences=true

Katia Managan stumbled through the dimly lit back alleys of Anvil, the salty sea air mingling with the faint rot of low tide and the distant clamor of the harbor. It was late, far too late for a lone Khajiit like her to be wandering alone, but the bottle of cheap mead she'd polished off at the Flowing Bowl had blurred her better judgment. Her yellow fur prickled under the cool night breeze, her tail swishing erratically behind her as she tried to navigate back to Quill-Weave's house. The Argonian author had been kind enough to let her crash there after another disastrous day of odd jobs gone wrong—spilling paint on a noble's rug, accidentally setting a market stall ablaze with a poorly aimed flare spell. But now, with the alcohol buzzing in her veins, Katia's thoughts were a whirlwind of self-doubt and reckless abandon.

She didn't notice the shadows shifting until it was too late. Three massive figures emerged from the gloom of a narrow side street, their scales glistening under the moonlight like polished obsidian. Argonians—big ones, easily towering over her slender frame. Their muscular builds spoke of hard labor in the swamps or perhaps mercenary work; broad shoulders, thick tails swaying with predatory grace, and eyes glowing faintly with that reptilian hunger. The leader, a hulking brute with deep green scales scarred from old battles, stepped forward first. His voice was a low, rumbling hiss, like water over jagged rocks. "Well, well, what have we here? A lost little kitty, far from her litter."

Katia froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't naive—she'd had her share of drunken flings, awkward and fleeting, but these three... they exuded raw power. The air around them carried the musky scent of marsh water and something primal, earthy, almost intoxicating. Her cheeks flushed under her fur, a mix of fear and that familiar, traitorous spark of arousal that alcohol always amplified. "I-I'm not lost," she stammered, her voice higher than intended, her plantigrade paws shifting nervously on the cobblestones. "Just... heading home. No trouble here."

The second Argonian, slightly leaner but no less imposing with crimson-tinged scales and a row of spines along his back, chuckled—a wet, guttural sound that sent shivers down her spine. "No trouble? You reek of mead and mischief, furball. We could smell you from a block away." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, carrying the faint tang of raw fish and ale. The third, a bulkier one with mottled blue-green scales and a thick, ridged tail that could probably knock her off her feet, grinned, revealing sharp teeth. "Why rush home? Night's young. We could show you some... Argonian hospitality."

Katia's mind raced. She should run, scream for the guards, but her body betrayed her. The warmth between her legs was already building, her nipples hardening under her simple tunic. It had been too long since she'd felt wanted, truly desired, without the pity or mockery that often came with her failures. These three looked at her like prey, but in a way that made her feel alive. "I... I don't know," she whispered, but her tail curled invitingly, brushing against the leader's leg.

The leader—let's call him Sssarath—grabbed her wrist gently but firmly, his scaly hand rough and cool against her soft fur. "Come with us, kitty. We won't bite... unless you ask." His companions laughed, and before she knew it, they were leading her deeper into the alley, to a hidden doorway that opened into a dimly lit warehouse by the docks. The air inside was thick with the smell of salt, wood, and sweat—abandoned crates stacked high, a makeshift nest of blankets and furs in the corner. Flickering torchlight cast long shadows, dancing across their scaled bodies as they stripped off their ragged cloaks.
Katia's breath hitched as she took in their forms. They were huge, each one easily twice her size in muscle mass. Sssarath's chest heaved with anticipation, his scales shifting with each breath. The crimson one, Drakus, flexed his arms, veins bulging under his skin. And the blue-green behemoth, Vargul, let out a low growl as he eyed her up and down. "Strip for us, Khajiit," Sssarath commanded, his voice dripping with authority. "Show us what that soft fur hides."

Her hands trembled as she complied, peeling off her tunic and breeches. The cool air kissed her bare skin, making her fur stand on end. She stood there naked, her waifish body exposed—small breasts with pert pink nipples, a flat stomach leading to the tuft of yellow fur above her slick folds. The Argonians hissed in approval, their own arousals evident as thick, ridged cocks emerged from their slits, each one veined and pulsing, easily as long as her forearm and girthy enough to make her whimper.

"On your knees, pretty one," Drakus said, his voice husky. They surrounded her, their musky scents enveloping her like a fog. Katia sank down, the rough wooden floor biting into her knees, but she barely noticed. Sssarath positioned himself in front of her, his massive cock throbbing inches from her face. "No, not yet," he corrected with a grin. "We want you on your back first. Spread those legs."

They guided her to the blankets, the fabric soft and worn under her back. Vargul and Drakus flanked her sides, their hands roaming her body—rough scales scraping deliciously against her fur, pinching her nipples until she gasped. Sssarath knelt between her thighs, his tail wrapping around her leg to hold her open. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, slick with his own precum, the ridges promising intense friction. "You ready for this, kitty? We're gonna fill you up good."

Katia nodded frantically, her voice a breathy moan. "Y-yes... please..." The alcohol made her bold, her inhibitions shattered. Sssarath pushed in slowly at first, inch by agonizing inch, stretching her tight pussy to its limits. She cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure, her walls clenching around him. He was so big, so thick—the ridges catching on every sensitive spot inside her. The sensation was overwhelming: the cool slide of his scales against her inner thighs, the wet squelch of her arousal as he bottomed out, his balls pressing against her ass.

"Oh gods... it's too much... so deep," she whimpered, her claws digging into the blankets. But her body arched toward him, craving more. As Sssarath began to thrust—slow, powerful strokes that made her breasts bounce—Vargul and Drakus guided her hands to their cocks. Her small paws wrapped around them as best they could, the shafts hot and pulsing in her grip, slick with their own lubricants. She stroked them in rhythm with Sssarath's thrusts, feeling the veins throb under her fingers, the ridges bumping against her palms.
"That's it, good girl," Vargul growled, his hand cupping her breast, squeezing roughly. His cock twitched in her hand, leaking precum that dripped onto her fur, sticky and warm. Drakus leaned down, his tongue—long and forked—flicking out to taste her neck, the salty tang of her sweat mixing with his saliva. "Stroke harder, Khajiit. Make us cum while he ruins that tight little hole."

The room filled with sounds: the wet slap of Sssarath's hips against hers, her moans echoing off the walls, the Argonians' hisses and grunts. The air was heavy with sex—musk, sweat, the faint ozone of her building magic as arousal sparked her Atronach energies. Katia's senses overloaded: the sight of their massive bodies towering over her, scales glistening with sweat; the feel of Sssarath's cock pounding into her, each ridge dragging along her G-spot; the taste of salt as she licked her lips; the smell of their combined arousals, primal and intoxicating.

Sssarath picked up pace, his thrusts becoming brutal, slamming into her with enough force to slide her across the blankets. "You like that, don't you? Being fucked like a whore by Argonians," he taunted, his eyes locked on hers. Katia could only nod, her handjobs faltering as waves of pleasure built. "Yes... fuck me harder... please!" she begged, her voice breaking into sobs of ecstasy.

Her first orgasm hit like a fireball—intense, mind-blowing, her body convulsing as her pussy clamped down on Sssarath's cock. Stars exploded behind her eyes, her tail thrashing wildly, brushing against Vargul's leg. "Ahhh! I'm cumming... oh moons, yes!" she screamed, juices squirting around his shaft, soaking the blankets. The sensation rippled through her, every nerve alight, her hands tightening on the other two cocks involuntarily, making them groan.

But they didn't stop. Sssarath kept pounding, riding her through it, his ridges milking every aftershock. "One more, kitty. We're not done." Drakus and Vargul thrust into her hands, their precum lubing her strokes, the slick sounds joining the symphony. Katia's body trembled, oversensitive but hungry for more. She pumped them faster, feeling their shafts swell, the heat building.

Vargul came first, his growl turning into a roar as hot ropes of cum shot across her chest, painting her fur white and sticky. The warmth, the scent—earthy and potent—pushed her closer to the edge again. "Take it all, you slutty cat," he hissed, his tail whipping the air.

Drakus followed suit, his load spilling over her stomach, mixing with Vargul's, the combined mess dripping down her sides. "Fuck... your hands are magic," he panted, his forked tongue lapping at her ear.

Sssarath's thrusts grew erratic, his cock swelling inside her. "Now... cum with me," he commanded, reaching down to rub her clit with a scaly thumb—rough, insistent circles that sent jolts through her. Katia's second orgasm crashed over her, even more intense than the first. Her vision blurred, body arching off the ground as she wailed, "Yes! Fill me... oh gods, it's too good!" Waves of pleasure pulsed from her core, her pussy milking him dry as he flooded her with his seed—hot, thick spurts that overflowed, trickling down her thighs.

They collapsed in a heap, breaths ragged, bodies slick with sweat and cum. Katia lay there, spent and glowing, the aftershocks tingling through her. "That... was incredible," she murmured, a shy smile breaking through. The Argonians chuckled, their hands still roaming possessively. "Anytime, kitty. Anytime."