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Sins of the Flesh

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Chapter 1

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Vyncent Elganth took a measured sip of water from his bidon, and tucked it back into the bottle cage of his bike. He'd been out riding for two hours already, and could feel his energy beginning to wane. Five miles from home, and only one more low hill to crest before it was downhill the rest of the way. A short swim at the pool, and then a shower, Vynce told himself. He was looking forward to the feeling of being immersed in water, the sweat from his ride being cleansed from his pelt. He was a roan antelope; twenty-three years of age, tall and broad-shouldered. The striking black and white markings on his face and the glistening, curved horns that protruded from his mop of dark, loose curls were, Vynce considered, his best features. Beyond that his relatively plain tawny pelt covered a six-foot-one frame that was lean and fit, toned by the antelope's love of cycling, swimming, running... anything that got his blood pumping and his limbs moving the way nature had intended.

Although somewhat shy and quietly spoken, Vyncent dressed to suit his activity. Mid-grey Lycra shorts hugged tightly around his hips, while above was a loose white tank-top that rippled and flapped in the wind, and plastered itself to his chest as he began his final downhill run into town.

The town of Porte Basta sprawled along the sun-drenched Viridium Coast of north-western Valasea, in the province of Villona. It was a pretty town in a picturesque region; hot summers and mild winters drew crowds from far and wide to its glittering beaches and azure water. Vyncent had been born here, and knew little else - but many of the town's residents had come from elsewhere, and spoke at great length of how calm and welcoming Porte Basta was, after the bustle and hubbub of Villona, Bastia or any other of the larger provincial capitals. Like many of the town's younger inhabitants, Vynce was in the tourism sector, although his job was nothing glamorous. He was a porter at one of the seaside resorts that dotted the Viridium Coast. It was a part time position, but that suited Vynce perfectly. Housing in Porte Basta was cheap, at least on the east side of the town away from the beach, and at twenty three Vynce was already renting an apartment on his own. Moving out of his parents' house had been a life-defining moment for the antelope. As much as he loved his family, the constant presence of his three younger siblings - two sisters and a brother - and his parents all in a three-bedroom house left little room for privacy.

As Vyncent rolled confidently up to the bike racks that lined the street outside the town's largest gym and aquatic facility, his smooth dismount drew a few glances, and his eyes momentarily met those of a Dragonkin girl, who was entering the same building. She smiled at him, and Vynce could have sworn her eyes wandered over his body briefly.

Surely not.

The antelope thought nothing more of it, and chained up his bike with a compact D-lock he carried slung below his machine's top tube. He stood outside in the shade for a moment to catch his breath and drain his bidon, and then made his way inside. He was a regular here, and paid for a locker that was exclusively his. In it was his backpack, wallet, phone, keys and so on; a towel, his Speedo and his everyday clothes. It was the changeroom to which Vynce made a beeline, dodging through the weights area and along rows of treadmills. Why people chose to run on indoor machinery instead of outside in the fresh air had always confused him.

The Dragonkin girl, it seemed, had come prepared. Vynce passed her on his way to the changerooms, just as she was laying her towel down on a bench-press machine and swinging her arms to loosen the muscles. She was pretty, very much so. Her unruly mass of dense, auburn curls was tried back out of her face with a no-frills hair tie, which revealed a soft, pretty face covered in a constellation of freckles. Her long, sinuous tail and furless skin set her apart from almost everyone else in this region of the world, and Vyncent's curiosity was piqued. That she was wearing Lycra shorts of a similarly high cut to his own and a crop top of the same fabric that left her midriff exposed certainly helped his imagination, and his eyes lingered for longer than they rightfully should have on her toned ochre skin, the subtle curve of her quads, her flat pubic mound and... Vynce's nostrils flared, and in a heart-stopping moment, their eyes met. The Dragonkin girl was clearly commando, and the fabric of her shorts clung to her in an intensely revealing way. Cameltoe had always been a particular weakness for Vynce, and he gawped awkwardly even as blood rushed into his groin.

"You uh... you alright there, Horns?" The dragoness asked. Her tone suggested that she knew exactly what was going on, but the smirk on her lips indicated that she was far from offended by it.

Vynce stammered something that vaguely approximated an apology, and hurried past her, subtly adjusting himself as he walked.

The antelope stepped into the changeroom and walked up to his locker, exhaling sharply. There were half a dozen or so people in the expansive space, in various states of undress. What made this gym different from many others (and a draw-card for some) was that its one changeroom was communal, and unsegregated. There was a communal shower room at the back behind a dividing wall, and while there were gendered bathrooms they were the only facilities here that were divided as such. Vynce had never been concerned about nudity, especially in a place like this. People of all gender alignments used this space together. Even so, propriety was propriety; and Vynce waited a moment for his penis to behave itself before stripping out of his biking shorts and tank top. He rummaged through his locker for his speedo - he had several, but these ones were mid-blue trunks with twin white stripes down each hip. Vynce had also cut out the inner liner from the garment, knowing that they clung to him a little more without it. That subtle bit of exhibitionism excited the antelope, in spite of his shyness. He paused a moment between shorts and speedo, enjoying the sensation of his junk hanging free between his toned thighs. He was most definitely a grower, not a shower. His penis when flaccid was perhaps a touch shy of four inches, his foreskin overhanging his tip a little and gently defining the ridge of his glans. He frowned at it momentarily as he unfolded and fumbled with his speedo.

Vynce was young, in the prime of his life, but he had a problem, that had come to a head several weeks prior. It had been a perfect date, until it came time for the horizontal hokey-pokey. It had been months in the making; dates, romantic dinners, courtship, the whole lot. More or less since he'd moved into his apartment. But a few weeks ago, it had all come crashing down. He and his date, a very pretty antelope girl called Ana, had been very much in the mood, their hands all over each other in the darkness of Vynce's apartment. But when his pants came off, the first thing Ana had done was grab his cock and yank backwards on his foreskin, which had caused him to yell in pain and recoil. Vynce was, like almost all boys in this region, intact. That in itself was no problem, but Vynce was unable to retract his foreskin more than a quarter of the way when erect without his frenulum pulling tight and causing him significant pain. He blamed himself for not mentioning that to Ana in advance. But when they'd recovered the mood and Vynce went to slide into her, the pain had returned. She was tight, very much so, and that caused him a lot of pain. So much so that he couldn't perform. He'd withdrawn, and found blood on his penis, from where his frenulum had torn. He hadn't dealt with it well. They'd tried again in the days that followed, although the magic had been tainted by their initial bad experience, and within a week of that occasion he and Ana had gone their separate ways.

Vyncent had never encountered that before. He didn't struggle with masturbation. And Ana had not been his first partner. He remembered, though, his couple of sexual encounters prior to Ana had been protected, and the condom had prevented his foreskin from pulling so tight.

He stepped into his speedo. The thin, stretchy fabric caught on his fur as he pulled it up his thighs, and he skilfully adjusted it into place once it was snug around his hips. Having only a single layer of fabric in the pouch, the speedo clung to the antelope's junk even when dry, and he dressed himself to subtly show, and made his way from the changeroom into the pool. He was more than ready for the relaxing buoyancy of the water to distract him from his thoughts.

*

_ _

Sarah Eryn Delanye was a dragon. Most people might picture her, then, as a fearsome beast - an ancient wyrm of myth and legend, slithering menacingly atop her glittering hoard in the bowels of an extinct volcano. Sarah was almost precisely the opposite of that characterisation. Nineteen years of age, she stood at five feet two inches. Her grandparents had joked when she was younger that if she stood side-on she'd be invisible, so slender was she. That had ceased to be the case when she transitioned into womanhood; slender though she was, she was blessed with a bust that most girls she knew envied, openly or otherwise. Sarah was a strong-willed, feisty girl; she'd taken martial arts and kickboxing as a youngster and was very confident in her body. She radiated that confidence as a young adult; her blazing crop of auburn curls and elegantly curved, ram-like horns framed her freckled face and large, green eyes, and her long, muscular tail seemed to draw the eyes of every onlooker upward to her softly curved hips, and perky, round buttocks. Sarah revelled in the reactions she got from men and women alike - she knew she was attractive, and that gave her a certain confidence to show off her assets, without presenting as arrogance.

Almost as soon as she'd turned eighteen, Sarah had one nipple pierced. She'd been thinking of getting both done, but hadn't yet done the second one - for one very prominent reason. In the weeks following her piercing, Sarah had found even her sports bras to be uncomfortable, and had - temporarily, she told herself - ceased to wear them.

Choosing not to wear a bra, she'd avoided jogging for a few days, but cycling had caused an incredible fusion of sensations that had resulted in her pulling over her bike by the side of the road for a 'nature break' and furiously masturbating herself to multiple orgasms in a hedgerow. The delicate friction of her Lycra jersey on her nipples compounded the pleasurable pressure and road-vibration of the bike's saddle on her crotch. That was a sensation Sarah was familiar with - and enjoyed. She never wore underwear beneath her cycling shorts, but the added stimulation on her nipples had caught her entirely by surprise at first. But it had only surprised her the first time - and the next day she'd done it quite deliberately. And every few days after that. It was an activity that excited her hugely; the risk of being caught knuckles-deep in herself in the bushes, her bike resting against a signpost by the roadside...

Sarah was in no uncertain terms a seething, writhing mass of hormones. She was yet to be sexually active with anyone else - other than online - but had accumulated quite an impressive collection of toys, even though she was still living with her parents. Masturbation was self-care for Sarah, and an activity she partook in multiple times on any given day, for a variety of reasons and in response to a variety of fantasies. The fact that she was an only child helped - it was only her parents she needed to maintain her privacy from.

She'd already masturbated twice on the day she first crossed paths with Vyncent Elganth at the gym. She'd been wearing her favourite pair of grey marle yoga shorts and a Lycra crop top; the shorts were high-waisted, but left a good six inches of her smooth, toned midriff visible. The double-take the antelope had given her in passing had been priceless, he'd almost snapped his neck. And when they met inside the gym a few moments later, even so briefly, his interest in her had only been confirmed. She just hoped she hadn't scared him off.

Sarah knew her outfits left little to the imagination. She was somewhat ambivalent about her tendency to be prone to camel-toe, particularly when at the gym. On the one hand, she loved the looks she got - it turned her on, on some level. The antelope's stare had made her smile, and once he passed, she'd turned to stare right back at his toned ass and legs.

They hadn't crossed paths again that day, and Sarah assumed he must have gone to the pool instead of the gym area. But he'd remained in her mind later that afternoon, once she'd returned home. The thought of him in a speedo was an enticing one.

Sarah was panting softly after jogging back home from the gym. She wasn't wearing a bra - that had become normal for her since her piercing, and she'd found that if she took it fairly slow the bounce wasn't too bad. Her family's modest two-bedroom home was empty, both her parents being at work already, and the dragon made a beeline for her bedroom, and collapsed heavily onto her bed, fully clothed. Her nipples cast twin peaks in her crop top, and she sighed, stretching out her legs and tail and splaying her toes. The endorphins released from stretching her recently-worked muscles sent a pleasant thrill through her body. Her right hand made its way down her torso, blunt clawtips grazing velvety smooth skin, and then scratching lightly against grey marle. The soft, form-fitting fabric of her gym shorts felt good against her hand, and even more so against her hips, the base of her thick tail, and her flat, toned pubic mound. Her fingers and palm explored her lower body, investigating the little creases in the fabric that formed between thigh, tail and crotch - her tail was almost as thick as a third thigh, and it made for a very interesting union of curves and folds in her most intimate area.

Sarah's outer labia were substantial; soft and puffy, they formed a soft mound of flesh broken by the crease of her vulva. She loved the shape and texture of her outer lips, and caressed up and down them with her fingertips through her gym shorts. A soft groan left her lips, and the dragon closed her eyes, allowing her thighs to raise and fall open. Even then, her lips remained substantial enough to maintain her cameltoe, which her fingers danced over teasingly. She could feel her clitoris, erect and throbbing, forming a little peak between her outer lips, and one claw tip circled it slowly, deliberately. Sarah knew her clit was significantly larger than most women her age, species and body type. She loved it, and in her youth had been tomboyish enough to regard it as a penis. What she was less than confident about, though, was the mass of fleshy folds that made up her clitoral hood and inner labia. To Sarah's mind, they were ugly; they got in the way, gave her surprisingly little sensation on their own, and were a pain to clean. Still, they didn't stop the dragon's pursuit of self-pleasure.

Sarah lifted her hips off of her mattress, and rolled her tight shorts down her thighs and tail, keeping all three limbs together until she could kick the garment off, leaving her bottomless on her bed. She'd shaven off her small, soft pubic bush the day before, and her fingers brushed across the bare skin of her flat pubic mound slowly, before dipping down to her pussy. She grimaced at the texture of her clit hood, and pressed her fingers against the very top of her crease, pulling back the fleshy hood to expose the tender pink button of her clitoris. Her other hand, her right, slipped further down, two fingers pressing inward between her lips. She was wet. No surprise there. Slippery and warm, she coated her fingers in herself, dragging her nectar upward to cover her clitoris. Sarah adored the intensity of direct stimulation to her clit glans, and almost moaned aloud at the feeling. Tweaking and pinching it between a slippery thumb and forefinger, Sarah began to masturbate in earnest, alternating between 'jerking off' and rubbing her fingers rapidly side to side across the stiff, fleshy nub. With the fingers of her other hand holding back her hood, she hunched around herself, mouth open and eyes closed as the pleasure flooded her body. She was after a quick release, this time. On those occasions where she wanted to take her time, draw things out, Sarah usually opted for a pair of fingers or a toy inside herself. She could orgasm an almost unlimited number of times from that. But for a quick and intense, toe-curling climax, her clit could get her there faster.

Her breathing grew deep and ragged, and her hips convulsed periodically as she built herself up - her index finger was just barely brushing her exposed clit glans, a delicate, but rapid circle, although it was a sensation she couldn't sustain for long. Every dozen or so strokes, Sarah would pause to enjoy the little throbbing peaks of pleasure, edging herself over and over, quickly and easily. Her slippery nectar coated her lips, her fingers, even the base of her tail, and she wasn't even spectacularly aroused - not psychologically, anyway.

Sarah's imagination was very fertile. She watched porn, sure, but in no way relied on it to get off - it was a resource she used almost exclusively to give her raw material to build into the kinds of fantasies she knew only her mind could generate. Some months prior, she had stumbled across a particular niche that she never thought she'd have any interest in, nor one she'd ever considered able to be fetishised. The site she'd found had been full of actors who'd been circumcised - males and females alike. At first she'd been slightly repulsed. Then she'd become curious. Circumcision was highly unusual in Villona, a relic of a religious past rarely practiced without medical necessity. If anything, it was regarded as taboo - a circumcised man was subconsciously viewed as having lost something precious. But as Sarah had watched more videos on that site, she'd been fascinated. Those males with their bare cockheads and smooth, tight-skinned, two-toned shafts - Sarah found them to be surprisingly erotic to look at. The females' modifications had been less apparent, except in extreme closeup, but no less intriguing to the dragon girl. None of the female actors had visible clitoral hoods, and in a lot of cases had no noticeable inner lips - Sarah had found herself masturbating on that site more and more over the weeks that followed, and what she'd seen fuelled her fantasies... She found herself wondering when she was out in public, just how many of the people she crossed paths with might be circumcised.

Sarah's orgasm hit her quickly, and a little unexpectedly.

The dragon girl arched her spine, clenching her eyes shut and rubbing furiously at her clit for a couple more seconds... just enough to tip her over the edge. The rapid, fluttering contractions of her climax caused her breath to leave her body in rhythmic, vocal huffs, and once it passed, Sarah starfished across her bed, panting softly in the warm buzz of afterglow.

The thought of having any kind of cosmetic surgery on her junk had terrified Sarah at first. But the more she thought about it, the more it seemed to be an option she might consider. Once she'd recovered from her orgasm, the dragon girl wiped herself up with a handful of tissues, and pulled up her shorts again. The fabric clung to her just as perfectly as ever, clearly defining the shape of her vulva. She tweaked and adjusted herself until it was slightly less obvious, and then made her way to the kitchen to make coffee.

Clitoroplasty. Search.

_ _

Sarah sipped her coffee, tendrils of steam rising around her muzzle. The search results on her laptop screen were a strange mixture of 'inactivist' anti-mutilation sites, medical procedures, and hideously graphic, un-representative drawings. But amongst the background noise, she did find that there was a clinic in Porte Basta that offered consultations for all kinds of cosmetic surgery, obligation free.

Her finger hovered over the trackpad for a long minute.

Yes? No?

She frowned, and sipped her coffee again. Moving her thighs against each other, she could feel her thick, fleshy clitoral hood, and shuddered. It had been bugging her for so long, what could be the harm in a simple consultation? Maybe it would give her the confidence to actually do more than just perv on guys in the change room.

As she clicked 'Book' and entered her details, Sarah released a breath she'd only been half aware of holding.

Next Monday, four in the afternoon. Done. She slapped the lid of her laptop closed, and stood up to find something else to do. Anything else, really, to get her mind away from her own insecurities.

*

_ _

Vynce grit his teeth in pleasure, the antelope's narrowed eyes fixated on the screen of his tablet, where a slender, black-haired Dragonkin girl was bouncing noisily on a dildo not much smaller in diameter than her arm. The sound was on, and her breathy moans and the rhythmic, gurgling slap and suction of the well-lubed toy filled Vynce's room with a muted, tinny symphony of smut.

The video was self-taken - Vynce's favourite format of porn - and the antelope's hand was hard at work on his rigid cock. His tight foreskin was full of precum, and his hand worked it with practiced skill, adding his own fleshy sounds to those of the Dragonkin on his screen. His room was dimly lit, the last of the evening's light having faded to the dullest of glows around his blinds, and he was yet to turn on any lights.

His breathing was getting ragged, and he knew he was close. His hand gripped around the tightly hooded glans at the tip of his seven, maybe seven and a half inch manhood, and he masturbated with a rapid, firm milking motion, always firmer on the upstroke. His strokes were shallow and almost a little frantic, coming in bursts of ten.

As his orgasm neared, Vynce put down his tablet and laid back on his bed, his other hand dropping between his thighs to cup and squeeze his plump balls. His legs were spread and knees raised. The rhythmic, wet click of his slick foreskin filled the room, and his breathing accelerated, becoming deeper, ragged, urgent... and then he stopped. A guttural groan rose from his diaphragm, his hips shook and his torso convulsed, ripples of orgasm moving through his tensed abdomen. One hand throttled his penis, squeezing rhythmically just behind the head while the other massaged his perineum as the antelope ejaculated. His tight foreskin half-covered his urethra, and caused cum to build up within it before oozing out over his hand and onto his belly.

A few minutes of basking in the afterglow, and Vynce swung his legs over the edge of his bed. His cock had softened, and he scrubbed at the thick, gooey mess on his lower abdomen so it wouldn't drip between bedroom and shower. After the passing encounter with the redheaded Dragonkin at the gym earlier that day, she'd stayed in his mind for anything but pure reasons. That thick, sensual tail; the smoothness of her skin... He'd been more than a little surprised to find porn featuring Dragonkin so easily, but was absolutely not complaining.

Vynce yawned, and knuckled at his eye while he waited for the shower to heat up, and then stepped in to wash off the day's sweat, dust and cum. Emphasis on the latter. It was a pain to scrub out of fur, and he always regretted not just having a towel handy for his multitude of jerk-off sessions. Grumbling to himself in the shower, he once again contemplated just jerking off inside his shorts, the way he used to as a calf.

Maybe that was why his foreskin was so tight. He'd never even tried retracting it - had never known he was meant to be able to - until he was a teenager. Vynce tiredly braced one hand against the tiles of the shower wall, and with the other hand, lifted his flaccid penis. His glans was slippery with his own emissions, and he tried - as he regularly did, since the incident with Ana - to retract his foreskin all the way.

Shit, was this always going to be a problem? Even flaccid, slippery and wet, Vynce could only retract about halfway before his frenulum pulled painfully tight, and his phimotic ring the same. It dug into his glans, and he held it back for as long as he could stand it. The moment he released it, his foreskin snapped forward over his tip once again, and he sighed. His frenulum ached dully. Was he ever going to be able to have sex without it causing him pain? What would he do if he was never able to use his dick without risking it bleeding?

Vynce swore under his breath, and finished up in the shower. As he towelled off, he was thinking about what might have to happen to make him fully functional. Maybe he'd need some kind of surgery. The thought made him grimace, but he thought he may as well look into it - there was no harm in that, at least.

Still naked, the antelope strolled casually into his bedroom to retrieve his tablet, and then into the kitchen. His apartment was tiny; one of a dozen in a dated complex buried in the depths of Porte Basta's backstreets. It was modest, but it was home. He plugged the tablet in to charge, and leaned his elbows on the counter.

Vynce had come across the concept of circumcision before. He'd watched his fair share of porn, and men elsewhere in the world were routinely cut - but here, it was virtually unheard of. He tapped in a few different search terms, and started reading up about the procedure, its apparently significant drawbacks, how unnecessary it was, how it was a violation of a child's rights... No, that wasn't what he was looking for. A different search yielded a lot of porn exclusively of circumcised men, with plenty of closeups and detailed views. Vynce browsed that for some time, and found himself thinking he'd probably look good circumcised... Ahh, finally. He clicked on a link to a clinic based locally that specialised in all kinds of cosmetic surgery, and was pleasantly surprised to find an unbiased review of a range of procedures. He wasn't convinced he'd need the whole procedure, and the clinic provided a helpful range of alternatives - creams, minor surgeries and so on.

At the bottom of the web page was a contact number, and Vynce hesitated, his phone in his hand.

It was only a consultation, right? He wasn't committing to anything?

"Good afternoon, Porte Basta Gynaecology and Cosmetics, how can I help?"

"Ahh, yes, hello, I ah... My name is Vyncent Elganth, I was wanting to... wondering if there was a..."

"A consultation appointment, sir?"

"Yes... yes, that."

"Well of course, may I ask as to the nature of the consultation you're seeking?"

Vynce felt a spike of anxiety.

"Um... it's my... f-foreskin, it's...um..."

"Phimosis? You're unable to retract it?"

"Yes."

"No problem! There's nothing to be nervous about, Mr Elganth, we deal with these personal issues on a daily basis. I'll book you in for an initial consult with Dr Willeon Byrne - what time and day suits you? We have a three o'clock Monday, a nine o'clock Wednesday or a ten o'clock Thursday next week."

"I... I'll take the Monday, I guess! Thank you."

"My pleasure, Mr Elganth. Just a contact number for you, please?"

Three o'clock Monday.

*

Between work, his social life and his exercise regimen, Vynce had little time to dwell on any anxiety he felt for his upcoming consultation. He'd always struggled to pull the trigger on making decisions that would affect him permanently, and being circumcised as an adult was most definitely one of those decisions. Still, in his downtime - or more specifically his 'self-care' time - Vynce found himself paying a lot more attention to the males in the porn he accessed. Especially those who were circumcised. To his surprise, he found himself increasingly drawn to them. Attracted, almost. There was something erotic about the dry, exposed heads of their cocks, the way they could treat them more roughly than he could his own, and still derive just as much, if not more, pleasure from the action.

So by lunch time the following Monday, Vynce was feeling much more confident. He was still unconvinced, but the urgency he'd been feeling to force his foreskin to retract had subsided somewhat.

The clinic was a small, unassuming sort of place - definitely not the stereotypical Botox and boobjobs kind of establishment usually conjured by the thought of cosmetic surgery. Vynce rolled up on his bike, and left it tied to a post out the front. The scent of disinfectant hit him the moment he walked in, as well as a blast of air-conditioned chill that was borderline uncomfortable.

Behind a typically bland, corporate-looking reception desk sat a middle-aged bovine woman, whose voice Vynce immediately recognised from their brief phone conversation several days previous.

"Mr Elganth? Right on time. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable. Dr Byrne will be with you shortly," she said with a sickeningly sweet smile.

Vynce's ears flattened submissively, and the antelope followed instructions, taking a seat in the corner of the small waiting room. Subconsciously, he sat with his legs apart, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was a little sweaty from his ride. A few minutes passed, and he could hear voices in an adjoining room raised in casual conversation. Shortly thereafter, a young, slender mare emerged, and made her way to the reception desk. She averted her eyes from Vynce, and he paid her the same courtesy. Almost as soon as she'd left the clinic, a much older stallion appeared. He was wearing a white coat, and silver-rimmed half-moon glasses perched halfway down his long muzzle. His pelt was chestnut dappled with grey, and he carried a folder filled with paperwork.

"Vyncent? I'm Willeon Byrne, come through please."

Vynce rose to his hooves, and somewhat nervously followed the doctor into his consulting room. Willeon sanitised his hands, and then sat down in a well-worn office chair, swivelling to face Vynce as the antelope sat in one of the three consulting chairs adjacent. Vynce's seat was still warm from the previous client, and he briefly wondered what she'd been in for.

"Now, this is your first visit, I believe."

"Yes..."

"Mmhm. And it says here you're struggling to retract your foreskin."

"Yes. I just... uh..."

"Does it cause you pain to attempt?"

"Yes. I can only get it back uh... halfway flaccid, and barely at all erect. I uhm... it... tore a bit, during sex a while ago."

The doctor paused, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees facing Vynce.

"I see. Well, hop up onto the bed over here, and drop your trousers if you please."

Vynce grit his teeth in embarrassment, but did as he was asked. He was not wearing underwear, and with his jeans removed, he self-consciously covered himself while clambering up onto the bed, which rustled underneath him the way only a plastic-sheeted medical bed can.

Willeon Byrne pulled on a pair of gloves, and approached Vynce's groin. The antelope looked away as the doctor delicately lifted his flaccid penis between two gloved fingers, and with the fingers of his other hand began to manipulate his foreskin, pushing and massaging it backward with skilled precision. When Vynce sucked in a sharp breath and tensed, he stopped.

"Hmm, I see what you mean. Your frenulum is very short, and your phimotic ring is also lacking elasticity - I'm surprised I haven't seen you before, Vyncent."

The doctor's fingers left his penis, and Vynce looked over at him.

"Typically I would offer a frenulectomy followed by a course of steroid cream in such a case, which is only very minor surgery. But it would require constant upkeep. I'm happy to do that, but the easier option for you is going to be circumcision. Have you heard of that?"

"Yes, I've... done a bit of research. Um...?"

"Good. So essentially what that entails, is the cutting and folding of your foreskin - your phimotic ring and frenulum will come off, and the inner layer of your foreskin will be pulled back and attached to your shaft skin behind your glans, here..." the stallion explained, poking and prodding to illustrate his point.

Vynce nodded. "Uh... how long is the..."

"Generally post-surgery, there's a two-week initial recovery time for the skin to heal and the swelling to subside, followed by four to six weeks of ahh... delicate treatment, shall we say. After that, no further attention should be warranted. It is day-surgery, you'll be able to go home the same day."

Two weeks... Vynce presumed that meant two weeks of no masturbation at all. That was going to be tough.

"And um... the frenulectomy... what's the recovery time for that?"

"About the same, all told. There is, however, no guarantee that the frenulectomy will also solve your phimosis to the point where you'll be able to experience sex without complications, and the application of steroid cream would need to continue for some time. That's to loosen your phimotic ring. I would recommend circumcision in your case. The cost to you will be roughly equivalent for either procedure. With your... generous foreskin, I would recommend we preserve as much of that sensitive tissue as possible, meaning you will have a visible scar line around your penis roughly here," Willeon explained a high cut in layman's terms, indicating a position a third of the way up Vynce's shaft. "Shall I book you in?"

Vynce's mouth opened and closed a few times, and Willeon waited, blinking slightly too rapidly for Vynce's comfort.

"Sure," the antelope conceded, with a nervous sigh.

"Excellent! Don't worry, Vyncent; before you know it you'll be wondering why you didn't ask the question sooner."

Willeon returned to his desk, and instructed Vynce to dress and join him. The stallion tapped away at his keyboard, and when Vynce returned, he turned to face the antelope with a reassuring smile. "Now, are you aware of different styles of circumcision and the concept of 'low' or 'high' incisions?"

"Sort of, I..."

"Excellent. Here's some paperwork, basically everything you need to know is in here, as well as post-op care and so on. Do you have any preference at this stage?"

"Well, you said um... a high cut, didn't you?"

"That would be one way we could go, yes - take a look on pages three and four - it's also the uh... most common form of circumcision practiced for religious and cultural reasons around the world, and preserves the most erogenous tissue around your inner foreskin. Your sensation will change, you may notice your glans steadily loses sensitivity over time, but as it does your brain will 're-wire' itself to derive more pleasure from your inner foreskin and shaft to compensate. The main thing will be, you'll never have to worry about sex causing you pain again, and personal hygiene will of course be much easier."

Forty minutes after arriving, Vynce was out on the street again, his mind spinning with the implications of what he'd just gotten himself into. He'd done his reading about circumcision styles, and had educated himself on terminologies and the names of the various implements commonly used, but Willeon Byrne had been so... confident? Was it confidence? Vynce certainly hoped so - that he had no chance to really discuss that with the doctor, and instead found himself with a date for day surgery in two weeks' time.

*

Barely five minutes after Vynce left the clinic, just long enough that they didn't cross paths, Sarah walked up. She was nervous, but it was only going to be a consultation. The receptionist greeted her professionally, and within a minute she was inside Dr Byrne's consulting room.

"Now, Miss Delanye - what can I help you with?" Willeon began with a friendly smile. The doctor pulled a tissue from a box on his desk, and leaned back in his chair to polish the lenses of his glasses.

Sarah took a deep breath, and steeled herself for a very deeply personal discussion. "Well... I've always been... uncomfortable... with the amount of uh... excess flesh I have downstairs, and did a bit of research to find out if that was something anyone else ever... did anything about."

Willeon perched his glasses back on his muzzle, and peered over them at Sarah. "Hmm. When you say excess flesh, I gather you mean your labia minora?"

"I guess. But mostly it's my uh... hood."

"Ahh, I see. No, that's not an unusual concern to have at all, you'd be surprised how common it is for women to desire some level of corrective surgery to that region. It's what I'm here for, after all!" The stallion chuckled quietly, and Sarah found herself warming up to him. He seemed trustworthy and genuine, at the very least.

"What's usually involved?" She ventured.

"Well it's very subjective and case-by-case, you understand. No two people are the same. If you're comfortable with it, I'd be happy to take a look and form an opinion."

Sarah felt her cheeks and ears burning, but outwardly gave a confident smile, and stood from the consulting chair. It had been warm when she'd sat in it, she noticed.

Willeon Byrne prompted Sarah to undress - her lower half, at least - and lay down on the bed. The dragoness moved a hand behind herself first to release the pop-stud that secured her leggings around her thick tail, and then rolled the garment down her smooth, toned thighs. She caught Willeon's eyebrow raising when he noticed her lack of undergarments, and in spite of the revealing nature of her situation, a smirk formed on Sarah's lips. She braced her hands against the edge of the bed - which was set quite high up due to Willeon's stature - and pushed herself up onto it, swinging her legs around and raising her knees. She paused a moment while Willeon pulled up a seat and tugged on a pair of gloves, and then let her thighs fall open.

Her mind raced. This was the first time Sarah had ever exposed herself like that to anyone, let alone a man. Doubt and anxiety spiked in her mind, and she took a deep breath and forced herself to remember that Willeon was a doctor; he spent his days doing this, and to her relief he was utterly professional in his conduct.

She bit her lip as she felt his fingers on her crotch, and felt a distinct tingle of arousal at being touched by another person. It was the first time anyone had ever touched her there, after all, and she hoped she wouldn't get too wet...

Willeon Byrne's gloved fingers delicately manipulated Sarah's inner lips, and then her clitoral hood. The latter caused Sarah's thighs to tense, and a quiet chuckle came from the stallion. To her horror, Sarah suddenly realised that her clitoris - already somewhat larger than 'average,' was hardening to Willeon's surgical touch.

"Don't worry, Miss Delanye; you're young and active, it's only a natural reaction to being touched that occurs to many of my clients. I definitely see what you mean, though - you have a lot of tissue here. Does the size of your actual clitoris concern you?"

Sarah took a shaky breath, her clit throbbing in time with the racing of her heart. "N-no, not really, I kinda like that... it's just the... flaps and hood, haha! I just don't... they make things uh... messy and a little hard to stay clean, I suppose? And like, I'm always so... aware of them, when I'm running or cycling or anything like that."

"Yes, that's a common reason for people to seek come level of correction. I take it you've done research into the procedures we can offer you?"

"A little, I guess."

"Well - labioplasty is the process of reducing the labia minora - inner lips - anything from a slight trim up to complete removal. It's up to you how far that goes. Base your decision there on how much sensation you get from them, would be my recommendation. Likewise with your clitoral hood... may I?"

Sarah perked her ears and looked down at the doctor, whose fingers were poised above the dragoness' throbbing, hooded clit. She nodded, and sucked in a deep breath when Willeon's fingers expertly retracted her clitoral hood to expose the throbbing, erect button within to the cool air of the room.

He chuckled once again, and brought in his second hand to hold back her hood, examining its adhesion to the shaft of her clitoris.

"Again, don't worry about arousal, Sarah. In fact it's helpful for me, I can more clearly see what I have to work with, should you decide to continue. Hmm. Your clitoris is larger than most. Do you get much sensation or sexual pleasure from your clitoral hood?"

"N-no, not really! I um... hold it back to uh..."

"To masturbate? It's fine, I've heard literally everything before, Sarah."

"Yes, to masturbate..."

"Very well. Were you considering a clitoroplasty as well as the labioplasty? That involves the removal of some or all of the clitoral hood. It's a little like male circumcision, I suppose - we incise and fold the skin in here..." Sarah squirmed, her tail curled tightly around the leg of the bed, as Willeon's finger delicately probed, "which means that your glans clitoris may remain exposed, either only when you are... ahh... erect, or even at all times, if you prefer. There may be a visible scar line around the clitoral body, much like a circumcision scar if you're familiar with such things. But that will fade with time, and won't be all that obvious."

Sarah nodded, her mouth having gone surprisingly dry - apparently her vagina had decided that it needed more fluid than her tongue did.

Willeon sat back, and - Sarah noted - did not stand up, instead rolling across the consulting room floor on his office chair to his desk.

"You may dress, if you wish. I'll just add some notes to your file here, if you don't mind."

Sarah exhaled softly, and grimaced. Glancing around, she noticed a box of tissues nearby, and hurriedly grabbed a handful, using them to mop herself up. She was quietly embarrassed by how ridiculously horny she was all of a sudden, from nothing more than a doctor's touch. But if Willeon's apparent inability to stand up was any indication, she was not the only one. And the fact that her vulva was not repulsive to him piqued her curiosity. Still - she was unhappy with the way it looked, and had already decided to proceed, at least with one or the other of the procedures Willeon had described.

Pulling up her leggings and buttoning the pop stud over her tail once more, she padded back over to the consulting chair and sat, facing the doctor. His legs were crossed, but as he typed on his computer Sarah's eye wandered to his crotch, and her cheeks flushed bright red as she identified a long ridge in the stallion's slacks that almost reached his hip. Hurriedly, she glanced away.

"So. I must ask, if you don't mind, about your sexual activity. Do you have regular sex, and if so, with male or female partners? Or both?"

Sarah shook her head. "No. I... actually never have, with anyone."

"Oh, I see. That makes things easier then - usually we would begin with a comprehensive STI screening and post-op sexual hygiene lecture, but if you are not sexually active with a partner, that won't be necessary. Without the screening, we can get you in for surgery sooner, if you would like to proceed. I actually have an opening for a half-day surgery next week..."

"That soon?"

"Yes. No pressure, it's entirely up to you. If you make the booking and then change your mind, just let us know at least 24 hours in advance."

Sarah thought for a moment.

"Alright. Let's do it. Both procedures."

"Labioplasty and clitoroplasty? Are you sure?"

"Yes. I don't want to look like a ham sandwich," Sarah joked.

Willeon laughed, and slapped his knee. "Oh, trust me, you don't! But you've got to be comfortable with yourself, and if a couple slices of 'ham' are impacting your self-confidence, I believe you'll be much happier afterwards. Now - you've seen some post-op photos I gather? If not, here," Willeon reached, and handed Sarah a pamphlet with a series of illustrations of surgical styles, levels of modification and post-surgery hygiene and care instructions.

A few minutes later, Sarah was back outside again, having booked herself in for day surgery in a little over a week's time. Her mind raced, but she was happy to have actually pulled the trigger.

In the interim though, the feeling of Willeon Byrne's fingers on her stuck in her mind, and Sarah hurried home for a very particular, and urgent, reason.

*

Sarah bit her lip to stifle a heated moan, her legs quivering and heart pounding in her chest as she rapidly flicked side to side across her clit glans with two fingers, her other hand holding back her clit hood. Her third orgasm of the afternoon was building up, and she rode it as long as she could. Tomorrow was her surgery, and she knew she was going to have to restrain herself for at least a week or two afterward. The dragoness' breath left her in a guttural huff as the familiar, throbbing contractions of climax overtook her mind and body once again, and her fingers slowed from a light, frantic pace to a firmer, slower massage of her erect clitoris.

If nothing else, it was going to be nice not to have to hold back her hood to masturbate. That had suddenly occurred to Sarah a few days prior, and she began to feel a bit of excitement about the procedure she'd so nonchalantly chosen to undertake.

Once her afterglow passed, Sarah cleaned herself up and dressed, and headed out for one more bike ride through the hills around Porte Basta.

She'd arranged for her friend Olivia to pick her up after her surgery, and after racking her brains about what to tell her parents, had simply come clean with them and told them the truth. Her father, a self-proclaimed worrywart, had immediately jumped to the conclusion that someone else had manipulated his daughter into wanting cosmetic surgery, but her mother had been quietly supportive, and although the conversation had been painfully awkward, Sarah had revealed to her just why she was proceeding with surgery.

*

At eight o'clock the following morning, Sarah arrived at the clinic with Olivia. The two Dragonkin girls entered together, arms interlocked, just as the receptionist arrived at her desk for her day's work, coffee mug in hand.

"Oh! Good morning Sarah. You're here early," she said, brightly.

"Yeah I... didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Sarah replied, somewhat curtly.

"Understandable. Don't worry about a thing, though, Willeon's the best at what he does, you'll be back on your feet before you know it."

"Willeon?" Olivia asked, turning to Sarah as the two girls moved across the waiting room and sat side by side. Olivia's ivory-pale skin and jet-black hair and horns were a stark contrast to Sarah's ochre skin, mahogany horns and auburn curls, but the pair of them were otherwise often thought to be sisters.

"Willeon's the doctor," Sarah replied.

"Oh. Um... should I like, wait for you here? How long will you be?"

"Couple hours I think, Liv - up to you. If you wanna go get yourself breakfast I'll pay. I really appreciate you being here!"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Like I'm gonna leave you. Might get Tommy to bring me a muffin, though."

"Long as he's gone by the time I'm out - no offence, but your boyfriend's a douchebag."

"I know!" Olivia said, brightly. "That's why I like him. He only wants to grab my horns and plow my ass, none of that emotional crap!"

Sarah groaned, and leaned over to hug her friend, playfully headbutting her cheek. "I worry about you, I really do," she said, quietly. "You know if it's just his dick you're into, you can get a silicone stallion toy, right?"

"Oh I know, I've seen yours! His is warm, though. And his flare, ohmigawd. Like when it goes it's like whoa, up here," she gestured to her diaphragm, "and he shoots like a fireho-Hnnnnhg."

Olivia squeaked as Sarah's hand clamped over her mouth, eyes flicking over to the bovine receptionist, who was (badly) pretending not to eavesdrop. Happily, at that moment Willeon Byrne arrived.

"Alright, I'm up. You staying, or going?"

"I'll be here, Sarah."

"Thank you..."

Sarah stood, took a deep breath, and followed Willeon Byrne past his consulting room, into the surgery.

*

She remembered nothing after walking into the clinic that morning. As her consciousness slowly returned, Sarah opened her eyes. They took a few moments to focus, but when they did, the first face she saw was Willeon's, with Olivia hovering somewhere in the background behind him.

"Hello, Sarah. Welcome back. It's all done, everything went perfectly. How are you feeling?"

"Ag hic bah fruck."

Willeon chuckled, and handed Sarah a bottle of water, which she awkwardly sipped from, swallowing slowly and carefully.

"Like I've been hit by a truck," she repeated, smacking her lips and wincing.

"Yes, the general anaesthetic will do that. Sorry. You'll start to feel better over the next hour or so. Now... as we discussed, I've performed a labioplasty and clitoroplasty for you; all your ham slices have been removed," Willeon chuckled. "You'll notice a fair bit of swelling over the next few days, but that should start to settle within a week, and I'll be sure you've got follow up consultations booked, and enough antiseptic and dressings to last. Try to avoid any physical activity for the next few days, and keep it gentle and slow for a week or two at least. And I'd recommend not masturbating for at least two weeks if you can manage it."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "If I can manage it?"

"Well... your clitoris is now exposed, so... you might uh... be more aware of it, once the initial pain subsides."

Nice save, doc.

Sarah processed that for a moment, and then gingerly lifted the sheet from her body, looking down between her legs. Her hospital gown concealed her body, and she reached for the hem.

"Whoa, gently, gently. Here, let me," Willeon said, supporting Sarah's back and reaching to lift the gown away.

As he did, the fabric brushed against her, and even as loaded with anaesthetic and painkillers as she was, Sarah gasped at the intensity of a split-second's friction. It wasn't pretty - not yet, at least. But the friction, even the coolness of the air on her newly exposed clitoris, set it throbbing. Two weeks without masturbation was going to be a challenge.

*

Vynce's surgery was scheduled for a week after Sarah's. Unlike the dragon, Vynce underwent his procedure under a local anaesthetic, given the relative simplicity of the operation. Willeon Byrne was just as confident as ever, welcoming him into the surgery and moving through his preparations.

"Alright, Vynce! Now, I know we've discussed this already, but have you had any new thoughts about what you'd like to do today? Or any concerns?"

"Uh... not really, doc, I..."

"Good! A high cut sounds scary and radical, but it really will be the best way to preserve as much erogenous tissue as we can. Now there's a few different techniques, as per the information booklet. In your case I'll be using a clamp only for guidance. That'll keep the procedure quick and painless."

Once Vynce was on the surgical bed, naked from the waist down and appropriately disinfected, Willeon pulled up a chair, and called in a nurse to assist. Willeon kept chatting almost continuously to the antelope from behind his surgical mask even as he expertly modified the antelope's penis, and almost before he knew what was happening, Vynce was circumcised.

"There you go! All done."

"What?! I thought you were only just starting!"

"That's the idea, Vynce - now I can't lie, once the anaesthetic wears off it's going to be uncomfortable, but I'll give you a script for some painkillers as well as topical anaesthetics, disinfectants and the like. The most important thing is to keep it clean and dressed for at least a week. The dressing I'm applying now will remain in place for two days, then it will need to be changed. Do you think you'll be alright to do that?"

"I... don't know, what do I need to do?"

"Really simple, watch."

Willeon took Vynce's hand, and demonstrated by dressing two of the antelope's fingers.

"Now, don't judge the result too quickly, hmm? It's going to look rough for a few days. If you have any concerns at all, don't hesitate to call!"

Vynce could hardly believe how fast, almost offhand Willeon Byrne had been. The doctor had circumcised him as though he'd been peeling a banana.

The anaesthetic was wearing off by the time Vynce arrived home, in the back of a taxi. He limped slowly into his apartment, and immediately undressed himself. His penis was a mass of bandages, with only the very tip protruding, and it was starting to throb. The kind of throb that told him it was going to hurt like hell for a while. The antelope swallowed some painkillers, and settled in for his recovery.

*

Vynce was climbing the walls. Figuratively, at least. A week had passed since his circumcision, and he was starting to heal. The first few days had been easy - the pain radiating from his groin was more than enough to keep the antelope indoors, sedentary and full of painkillers. But once the pain began to subside, he found himself needing to be incredibly careful when changing his dressing. While bandaged, his penis was constricted, unable to reach full erection. But the moment the bandages were released, it would start to harden, and Vynce had to re-dress it as quickly as he could to avoid getting a full erection, which would still be risky.

He couldn't wait to be able to exercise again. A week at home mostly with only his own company was starting to wear thin. But more than anything he couldn't wait to try out his new cock. He figured he'd probably have to learn to use it all over again, and the thought of that was exciting - from what he'd seen of it so far, Willeon had done a stellar job. The swelling was nowhere near as bad as he'd been expecting, and had subsided within a few days.

Only another week, and he'd be able to try it out.

Vynce grit his teeth, and tried his best to focus on anything but how desperately he wanted to jerk off.

*

<Hey Sarah! What're you doin later? Me and Tommy are going to the mall, wanna come?>

It was Olivia, and attached to the message was a crude selfie of Sarah's oldest friend, and the tank-top-clad chest of her douchebag boyfriend. The size difference between them was hilarious, and they'd have been a cute couple if Tommy wasn't such a... Sarah grappled for an appropriate adjective. 'Dudebro' was about the best the Internet could offer.

<Hey babe, I'll pass today sorry! Walking like I've shat myself still! Not much longer.>

Sarah chuckled at the analogy as she texted back. It wasn't far wrong. The first week had been rough, but now, almost two weeks post-surgery, things were starting to come together.

<Ooh. Is it worth it, ya think? You're gonna have to show me, you know...>

Sarah's eyebrows went up at that.

<Once it's fully healed maybe. Looks like hell at the moment. You guys have fun. Hey, could you bring me a slushie?>

<Flavour?>

<Idk, purple?>

<That's not a flavour! Alright, fine. Be there soon!>

<Thanks Livvy, love your face.>

Sarah locked her phone, and levered herself upright from her bed. Not for any particular reason, just to move. She was wearing a loose, light pair of 'genie pants' and a hoodie, and hadn't so much as brushed her hair in almost a full day. She no longer needed to keep dressing and disinfecting herself, although underwear or Lycra were still out of the question.

Waddling awkwardly into her bathroom, Sarah pushed down the elastic waistband of her pants, and examined herself in the mirror. Her toned, flat mound was showing a little sprinkling of fur, two weeks since she last shaved it. The protruding folds of her inner labia were completely gone, as were the bunched up, wrinkled folds of her clitoral hood. Her soft, puffy outer lips, though, were unchanged.

As she healed, Sarah liked what she saw more and more. It had been almost two weeks, and she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to resist the urge to touch herself.

Even the thought of masturbating caused a flush of arousal. Her clit glans, now permanently exposed, filled out and deepened in colour slightly as it hardened, and Sarah couldn't resist touching it. It protruded slightly past her outer lips when it was engorged, as she'd already discovered, and that meant it tended to rub against whatever she was wearing. It was already driving her crazy, in a nice way. Her fingertips brushed delicately, tentatively around it, and a heated moan escaped her lips. She pulled her pants back up, and waddled back to her bedroom. She was going to try.

Propping herself up on a mound of pillows, Sarah kicked off her pants altogether, and got herself comfortable. Her clit throbbed, and she clenched her muscles, watching it jump and bob. It really was like a little dick, now. The ridge of her glans was obvious and pronounced, and there was a scar just behind it where her hood had been removed. One thing she'd noticed almost immediately, was how much more obvious it was when she was wet. Her inner labia had kept things largely contained, but without them, she leaked. A lot. Even a little clench caused an overflow of arousal, sending a drool of slippery fluid oozing down onto her tail base. She scooped it up on a fingertip, and delicately probed around the entrance of her vagina. The new scar tissue was still swollen and felt a little rigid to touch, but was virtually pain free. Her finger slipped inside herself with ease, and she shuddered, barely able to contain her whimper of pleasure. Her arousal spiked, and her heart pounded in her chest.

Dragging thick strings of fluid upward to coat her clitoris, Sarah began to delicately, gently stroke it. Her slippery fingers traced delicate circles over and around it, and she pushed it softly forward between her index and middle finger, wincing slightly as a jab of pain emanated from the fresh scar tissue. She knew it would be some time before she could treat it the way she was used to, but when she was this aroused? Any touch, any contact was mind-altering. The head of her clit was so sensitive it was bordering on painful. In the best possible way. Sarah's fingers slid around her stiffened button, focusing on the glans, fondling and touching it, and her hips quivered. There was nothing in the way any more. No unsightly, bunched up folds of skin, no redundant flesh to conceal her arousal. Her free hand - a hand she'd never been able to keep free before - slid up the inside of her hoodie, and found her pierced nipple.

"Oh fffuck..."

Her toes curled, her tail spasmed, and entirely unexpectedly, she came.

Urgently, she pressed one finger inside herself again, delicately seeking her g-spot to ride out her orgasm and hopefully cause another. The first was barely over when the second crashed over her, and all the while the fingers of her left hand tweaked and circled her nipple.

So consumed by her lust was she, that Sarah didn't see the text come through on her phone, nor did she hear the doorbell.

It wasn't until Olivia was pounding on her bedroom window that Sarah came back to reality with a curse, and hurriedly, shakily pulled on her pants to rush out and greet her friend.

"Are you alright? I was knocking for ages! What's up?"

Olivia looked somewhere between annoyed and concerned, and looked Sarah up and down suspiciously. Sarah was sweating, her cheeks and ears were flushed, and she was even more dishevelled than usual. Hurriedly, she adjusted the waistband of her pants, straightening it where it had rolled over itself in her rush to dress.

"I... nothing! I was just..."

"Running a marathon?"

"Yeah, that," Sarah smirked, and Olivia broke into a grin.

"Does that mean it... works?"

"Oh fuck me, does it ever..."

Olivia squealed excitedly, and hugged Sarah. "Oh that's great! I'm so glad. Does it not hurt any more then?"

Sarah winced. "Ehh, it still hurts, and uh... it stings like a Temerian wasp right now, not gonna lie... but I couldn't wait any longer. Totally worth it. I came like four... five times? I don't even know. I barely even touched it."

Olivia and Sarah were a special kind of open with each other. Or at least, Sarah had no shame in discussing anything at all with her oldest friend, which Olivia seemed to thrive on. With a giggle, she handed Sarah a half-melted purple slushie in a plastic cup.

"Here, put that between your legs, might soothe the burn," she cackled.

"Thanks honey. Oh, guess what?"

"Hit me!"

"I can piss standing up now."

Olivia snorted, slushie coming out of her nose, and Sarah burst out laughing, clapping her friend on the back