How Stories Get Made
A story about writing a story. In one, it's myself and my editor talking about the story I'm writing - and doing some other things for inspiration - and in the other, an otter has been kidnapped by the zebra-mask zebra and forced to participate in a hopeless game about her own impregnation with her ex's cum.
Commissoned by
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It was an absolutely beautiful day, at least for one who, like Cinder, was a bit of a pluviophile; she loved rain. And rain she got. The entire day, and for just about the whole week too, it'd been raining. On every street, deep puddles had already formed, and the drain system struggled to keep up with the downpour. That didn't bother Cinder any. As an otter, her name might've been a little ironic, but she still loved water as much as any other otter. So, when she looked out through the window, she felt a deep inner peace watching the water streak down the glass, hearing it tap on the windowsill and roof, punctuated by the rumbling bass of occasional far-away thunder.
In short, it was a perfect day. Cinder sat by her computer, curled up in a fleece blanket, a fragrant cup of coffee so dark it almost smelled like chocolate cradled in her hands. She almost wished it'd never stop raining, but then again, her hogging it all would only result in droughts elsewhere in the world, and maybe they deserved some of it too. Maybe.
Cinder lit a scented candle. She stretched, luxuriating in the ambience flooding in through her half-open blinds, and then got to work. All she was, was a web developer, the kind of person small companies went to when they needed an online presence but didn't want to pay a giant company for both development and maintenance. She, in turn, would create a simple, appealing website that'd be easy to update in the future, and that was that. Then, she got paid, money which mostly went towards rent and other costs, and occasionally a nice bottle of peated scotch.
It wasn't the most glamorous life, being self-employed, but she liked it. There was a satisfaction in living purely by what one created by herself.
Sometimes, the otter, curvy as she was, wandered onto other forms of income. The kind that involved showing suggestive or outright scandalous photos of her body to horny men online in exchange for a little bit of extra pocket money. Oh, she didn't do that for the income, but because doing so excited her. It got her almost as wet as the street outside, though certainly much warmer too. Maybe it was time to tease a couple more people into paying, she mused, giving her heavy breasts a playful little squeeze as she weighed the possibilities.
For some reason, men seemed particularly enamored by a technologically gifted woman willing to show her breasts. Cinder didn't pretend to understand why, though she had a pet theory that they simply liked imagining meeting her during their own day-to-day jobs and hitting it off with her. Unfortunately for any would-be suitors, Cinder wasn't interested in a relationship. That was why she had broken up with her ex, after all. Oh, the wolf was sexy as hell, and great at sex too, but the otter just didn't feel like she gained anything from being in a relationship otherwise. Her fingers could do the orgasms. Yeah, he'd been heartbroken, but sometime later, he had gotten over it, and now the two of them remained good friends. She hadn't heard from him in a while, though.
“Okay, let's see, self-insert or not," the hyena yawned, stretching out on the couch. The otter's room smelled like pizza and dust, more than the mingling of petrichor and candle-scents, like in her story. “Knows web stuff, check. Likes rain, check. Likes turning guys on, check. Likes scotch, you got it. And has a name that starts with Cin. Do you have a list of Cin-names for these story otters? It's kinda impressive how you keep coming up with new ones."
“Not totally a self-insert," the otter protested, making a dramatic but diffuse gesture with her hands. “I don't post nudes online, I don't have enormous tits, and I'm a writer, not a programmer."
“Yeah, you're not a programmer but you know that stuff, I've seen it," the hyena grinned, though he didn't bother looking back at her. “Totally different things, I get you."
The hyena was her editor, and in reality, the otter was sitting by her computer writing, while it was dreadfully sunny outside, and she hadn't broken up with an ex anytime recently. It had been what… she shuddered, refusing to let the exact number of years solidify in her head, at risk of feeling positively ancient.
“I don't really see how you're going to make this story horny, though," the hyena chuckled. “It sounds more soothing and kind of poetic if anything."
“We're getting to that," the otter replied. “It's more effective if it's abrupt, sometimes."
“Well, by all means, keep writing. I'll keep making sure it makes some basic amount of sense."
The otter turned around, spinning in her chair, and rested her hands on the keyboard again. Now, where was she? Let's see here-
Cinder slowly pulled her shirt over her head, letting it tug her bra with it. Basically all men, in her experience, liked the sight of a misaligned bra showing off a little more than intended, and hers coincidentally ended up baring one perky nipple. It was a good look; the kind that communicated I just woke up and don't mind if you stare. She hadn't been awake for long either, so it was an accurate enough description. Cinder's long, dark brown hair was still messy, even.
Maybe she'd take a collection of photos today, and call them something like “Barely awake, thinking of you". That'd sell like hotcakes, at least if they had pictures further down, too.
A cold little breeze that snuck in through some less than perfectly insulated crack somewhere in her apartment made Cinder shiver. She paused, reaching for the thermostat, and cranked it up a couple of degrees. It was a little ironic, she thought, how she loved the rain, the gloom, the dreary skies of autumn and spring, but couldn't handle it being cold. It'd been one of those things her ex had always complained about, how she wasted money and energy by keeping it too warm inside. But any colder than this and she'd end up shivering constantly, wasting more energy on trying to keep herself warm enough to work. Later on, after her computer had been on for a while, it'd heat up the room without needing the radiators at all, but right now, the morning chill was still thick in the air, like an ethereal frost that settled, invisible, over everything.
Nudes. Come on, Cinder, focus at least a little bit. Disheveled morning look, that's what we're going for, so naturally you're either wearing no pants at all and panties pulled to the side, or… no, that'll be perfect, let's do that, her inner monologue went, as if guided by a writer's hand.
For now, she reluctantly stood up to grab her camera off the shelf, planning a few good shots. She'd use a timer, maybe pretend the camera was a webcam that'd accidentally been left on to capture her half-naked body. Something along those lines seemed perfect.
First things first, though; Cinder pulled off her baggy sweatpants and then tugged her panties to the side, taking great care to make it seem perfectly natural, as if she had just woken up. And then, she was distracted by another cold breeze.
Stupid poor insulation, she thought, frustrated, but continued to focus on what she was doing. At least the chill would keep her nipples appropriately stiff for the photos. It still felt rather unpleasant, though. Now, with her pussy and a whole nipple bare, she felt it more acutely than before. It almost felt like she had left a window open somewhere, but the otter disregarded that feeling. She never left the windows open.
Then, as she picked up the camera to find a good angle for the photos, she caught a glimpse of something moving behind her. Before she could react – much less panic – she felt a sharp jab in her neck, and then, nothing at all.
“Who has a kidnapping fetish anyway?" the hyena asked, with a broad grin on his face. “I mean, it'd really suck to get kidnapped in real life."
The otter sighed dramatically. “Everything I write about would suck to have happen eye-are-el. Except maybe the werewolf stuff?"
“Or the few foot fetish stories you do," the hyena added.
“As long as I'm not the one forced to suck anyone's toes," the otter pointed out in turn. “Anything else you want to mention so far?"
“Well, you started it like a horror story. And if this is a horror story, then she's probably about to be punished for showing off her body too much. Y'know, like those movies with the puppet and the traps, not that those movies made much sense either," the hyena mused. He turned around on the couch, squinting as he looked at the otter's work. “So that'd mean that our villain is…"
Slowly, and with her head aching like it had when she turned twenty-one, Cinder woke up and immediately wished she hadn't. It was even colder here, wherever “here “was, and she couldn't even find her blanket. In fact, she couldn't move her hands either, so they'd probably fallen asleep and…
…she opened her eyes, and it took several seconds for the otter to realize she wasn't at home, much less in her cozy warm bed. She was tied to a soft but not very comfortable hospital bed- no, not a hospital bed, a gynecologist's chair, with her legs forcibly spread, and her arms securely tied to her sides. Her body was covered only by a flimsy blanket that did little to keep the chill out of her bones.
Don't panic, girl. Don't you dare panic.
Cinder forced herself to keep her eyes open despite a desperate desire to escape back into the realm of unconsciousness. At least her headache was quickly fading, but what she saw was enough to threaten to bring it back right away; a cluttered room with three other unoccupied seats placed in a circular formation around a central machine that had several monitors on it. The floor was covered in sex toys, and the machine had some attached to it, too. Including one threatening-looking canine one that was pointed, menacingly, between the otter's legs.
She pulled on the cuffs, testing her bonds. They were firm and unyielding, as she had expected. That meant she wasn't going anywhere before whoever had kidnapped her wanted her to.
Don't. Panic.
Just as that growing anxiety and dread in her core began to consume her, the monitors flickered and came alive, revealing the masked face of her captor.
“Zebra Mask Zebra, of course," the hyena grinned. “Is she really a zebra though? That's pretty dumb, isn't it?"
“I mean, you'd assume that wearing a zebra mask to disguise yourself would suggest you're anything but a zebra, no?" the otter retorted, defending her redundantly stripey creation. “I think it's a clever disguise."
The hyena sat up and reached for another slice of pizza. They always got pizza when working on a story together. By now, it was cold, but a cold pizza was still pizza, and some argued it was even better that way. Something about pizza chemistry that brought out hidden subtle flavors when the rest were suppressed by cold.
“I dunno, it sounds like she put too much effort into her traps and not enough into her disguise," he replied, biting into his cheese-covered meal. “Was I right about her reasons to punish you – I mean, the protagonist who is a totally different woman – too?"
“I'd like to play a little game," the woman – her voice revealing her as one – in the zebra mask spoke, addressing Cinder with a cold certainty. “A punishment, if you will."
“A punishment? For what? What have I done to deserve a punishment?" Cinder squeaked, then growled, only to finish by yelling at the monitor. “I haven't done anything!"
“You and your ex, frankly, didn't treat each other well at all when you split up," she said. “And as such, we'll have to have you two repeat the process. For that, we'll have to get you together again. Unless you show yourself to have earned the right to stay single."
“What the fuck are you talking about?" Cinder yelled. “That doesn't make any sense at all! And I'm pretty sure most couples have some bad blood after-“
“Unfortunately, I doubt you'll be able to. The game is as follows: the dildo currently pointed between your legs will soon begin to fuck you. If you can resist orgasming until, oh, until I get bored watching you squirm, you win and can leave as you are. If you cannot, however…"
She paused for dramatic effect, staring intently into the camera.
“If you cannot resist orgasming, the dildo will ensure that you leave here with a little something extra, practically forcing you and your ex to get together again until you can resolve your differences," she explained, in a tone that conveyed a kind of malignant joy with each word. “Would you like to see why? Do remember, this is a recording, so I believe I'll take that as a yes."
With that, the monitor switched to a different feed. A video of the same room, but taken some time earlier, focused on another figure trapped in a chair. A wolf. Her ex-boyfriend, Cinder immediately recognized, tied to one of the chairs just as she was now.
“So, let me get this straight, last time her deal was about the turning misogynists into chicks, and now Zebra Mask Bitch doesn't like when people break up?" the hyena laughed. “You just write the craziest villains sometimes."
“Well, it's not like the motivations of horror movie villains ever make sense, do they? It's always something like, 'I want everyone to die' or 'You offended my principles on this specific one thing', so I think this one fits into it pretty well…" the otter giggled in turn. “Besides, she only comes after you if it's a nasty breakup."
The hyena took another bite of the pizza, of which not much remained at that point. “Yeah, but isn't that punishment enough already? You know, having a bad breakup."
“Sure, but that's not how a villain thinks. They think you are being a bad person deliberately," replied the otter.
“What did you do to him?" Cinder shouted, though she knew that her captor wasn't listening. Why would she be? The point was to torment her, and any acknowledgement of her humanity would lessen the pain.
Instead, she had no choice but to watch the recording of her ex. The wolf was straining against his bonds with that snarl on his face, the one that told her he was deeply displeased with something. He didn't sport it often; only when cut off by “total psychopaths" in traffic or otherwise endangered. He was having no more luck than Cinder herself, no matter how hard his sizable biceps bulged with exertion.
Eventually, the mechanical arm in front of him moved, holding a sleeve just like the ones he'd always liked to masturbate with. She had used it on him more than a few times, too.
In other words, this madwoman had been stalking her for at least a few weeks, and then she had captured her ex first. But why? A theory almost surfaced in her head, only to be instinctively suppressed by the desire not to panic. Cinder did, though, feel a rather distinct pang of anxiety, her body already knowing where this was leading.
Sure enough, as she kept watching, the sleeve slipped over her ex's sheath. Though he kept squirming and struggling with far more vigor than Cinder herself could muster, he couldn't help but slowly start swelling up, his cock hardening into the toy, which seemed to be applying a gentle, irresistible suction.
Despite knowing that it was mere a recording, and that whatever the end result was had already happened, Cinder couldn't help but root for the handsome wolf she'd once loved. He had always been amazing in bed, just about never cumming before she did. If anyone could do this, he could.
It didn't look promising, though. Once that beautiful lupine cock had reached full unwanted hardness inside the toy, the sleeve began to slowly pump on him. On the inside, it seemed as if he was also being stroked by some mechanism. And try as he might to resist, the wolf was only a man; his expression melted from focused determination and anger into something that flitted between pleasure and terror.
But why was he worried? At worst he'd cum in a tube and then be let go. Sure, the act was a violation, but he wasn't going be left with “something extra," whatever that meant. At the same time, Cinder wanted to close her eyes – the sight of the wolf being pleasured still excited her, no matter how much the two irritated each other – but if she did so, she was afraid she'd miss some crucial clue on how to escape this predicament. And so, she had to watch as the machine kept teasing her former wolf partner until he was leaking precum into the tubes.
“Had to watch. Right, that's what I always tell myself when I'm horny too. Oh no, I have no choice, I just have to watch this sexy guy get edged," the hyena, pansexual as always, laughed. “Still though, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what her plan is."
“Yeah, so would a reader. It's just more fun when she hasn't figured it out yet," the otter replied, before returning her attention to the ongoing torment of her fictional self. In reality, she had no interest in her lupine ex-boyfriend. But in fiction, it made for a hot fantasy of reignited embers and unwanted arousal.
Well, sure enough, the wolf was visibly uncomfortable, in a strangely pleasurable way, as the machine kept sucking on his cock, trying to milk his seed out of him. After a few more minutes, the wolf let out a growl. He turned his head to look towards the camera, and for the first time in the entire video, said something.
“I'm sorry, Cinder," he choked out. “I fucking… fucking tried."
Hearing him say that left Cinder almost breathless with an emotion that she couldn't quite pinpoint. A heavy mixture of pity, anger, lust, and confusion. Somewhere in that vicinity. Why was he apologizing to her? They hadn't been together for over a month, now.
The answer would be revealed soon enough. As Cinder kept watching, her ex growled again, and then his body tensed. It truly did look like used every muscle and every ounce of willpower to try to fight back his climax, to no avail. Moments later, he whimpered as the first rope of thick cum shot into the sleeve, only to be sucked up by a tube into the machine. Then again, and another, while the wolf panted with pleasure, bucking into the sleeve with orgasmic instinct. Even if he hadn't wanted to cum at first, there was no denying that he gave the machine everything he had.
“Fuck… fucking… always wanted to… breed you," he snarled and huffed, overwhelmed by the mind-melting pleasure, and probably unaware of that he was even verbalizing those thoughts and fantasies at all, as he finished his orgasm inside the toy, slowly slumping back against the chair. The video cut to black.
“As you can see, he failed. Lost my little game, so to speak," the zebra-masked character spoke, as her face appeared on the screen once again. “Have you figured it out yet? Figured out what he, delirious with pleasure, was talking about, and what the machine will do to you?"
Another dramatic pause.
“Not to worry. You still have a chance to avoid that fate. All you have to do is to not fail like your slighted ex did. Shouldn't be so hard, should it? You always thought of yourself as the one in control."
The machine whirred. It sounded almost like an old television being turned on, a high-pitched whine accompanying the pop of what might be capacitors. Not that Cinder knew anything about old electronics.
“And neither does her real-life self," the hyena chuckled. “I think. I can't imagine you know how those old fatscreen TVs work."
“Not a single clue. I know there's a big tube inside them and it's not good to breathe in the stuff inside it. Maybe. But it's an evocative phrase, isn't it?" the otter grinned. “And even if it isn't, it's not as bad as '_the sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel,' _ like in Neuromancer."
“What did he even mean by that? I mean, nowadays it'd be blue skies, but as I remember, a dead channel was static. And that'd be a really weird sky," the hyena pondered, scratching his chin. “Just black, maybe?"
“Well, in that era, even older TVs started off with this solid greyish-green haze before you picked a channel," the otter explained. “I only ever saw one, at my grandparents' place. Gods, I can just about smell the old thing… and remember us playing old Nintendo games on it."
“So, very old machinery, then," the hyena concluded. “And vaguely threatening."
The arm holding the dildo moved towards the otter's bare slit. There was nothing she could do to stop it, neither kick the machine nor close her legs. She was helpless. And that was when she first noticed that the dildo had a tube in it. A tube that led to a vial of white, cloudy liquid. She instantly knew what it was. There was really only one substance that looked like that, especially if it also had to threaten her somehow. Suddenly, Cinder's mouth felt very dry, and her heartbeat twice as fast as before.
The only question was whose it was, and given the video she'd just been shown, it didn't take much to connect the dots. She and her ex had, over the years, had a few pregnancy scares, and they'd even roleplayed it many times, but in the end that had been why they split up; he wanted a baby, and she didn't want one yet. That, though a minor difference in preferences, had spiraled out of control and ended up with them breaking up entirely, not wanting anything to do with each other.
And now, she was being threatened with having his baby anyway. Totally against her will. The wolf's seed injected deep into her body, where it could happily swim up to her eggs, just like he had wanted to do it, only without a single thing she could do about it. And without him even in the same room.
On the one hand, at least he had tried to resist.
On the other, he had clearly fucking enjoyed the thought of his sperm ending up deep inside Cinder's fertile body with how eagerly he had fucked the toy once his orgasm started!
Fucking asshole, she thought, but then the dildo brushed against her lips. The machine's motions were slow and deliberate. It pushed a little, and when it met resistance, it shifted and tried again, blindly feeling for the warm entrance. Then, it found it, and began to push into her.
No no no, the otter thought, feverishly, trying once again to squirm out of the seat. At least she was dry. The penetration wouldn't be very pleasant, and that would make it almost impossible for her to cum. She found some solace in the way the toy made her wince as it thrust into her dry passage.
Then, it started vibrating. Immediately, Cinder screwed her eyes shut and tried to focus on something else, refusing to acknowledge the sensation. Just a vibration inside her wouldn't be enough, anyway, she told herself between unwanted shudders of pleasure. The way that stupid, dangerous cum-filled dildo filled her up and how the vibrations grew stronger and stronger until they were almost too much – but in actuality just barely enough to resonate through her clit too – was having an effect on her body, regardless of whether her mind acknowledged it or not.
That wasn't enough for her tormentor, of course. Instead, she suddenly felt a heated splash of liquid deep inside her, tickling what could only be her cervix. She hadn't-
“Not yet, no. That was nothing but lubricant, delivered as a preview of what you'll soon be experiencing in full. Lubricant and a little medicine that should kickstart your ovulation in just, oh…"
She glanced at the wall, as if reading a clock.
“An hour or so. Meaning you'll have an egg ready just in time for that magical sperm bath your ex so eagerly wanted to give it, when you cum. Or you can keep resisting, it'll only feel better when you fail, anyway, because your body will reveal its true desires. Really, I'm doing this for your own good, but feel free to surprise me."
The warm silicon shaft slipped another inch into her. The lubricant made it slide in smoothly, but with an agonizing – in any other circumstance, it'd have been delectable – slowness that left Cinder acutely aware of every risky inch that slipped into her.
Fertility drugs, really? She really, really couldn't afford to cum, no matter how badly she might end up wanting to. And she could do that. She wasn't as weak-willed as her ex. The otter growled and forced her thoughts elsewhere, certainly somewhere that wasn't that intoxicating moment when the wolf had held himself inside her just one second too long, and she had felt the first throb and gush of sperm in her depths. He had done it deliberately, too, she knew, even if he never did admit it.
That moment had burned itself into her memory, and even though she hadn't conceived, it had become one of her favorite fantasies to masturbate to. That was exactly what she tried not to think of.
“I never honestly understood the pregnancy thing either. It feels like it's the bad end of all sex encounters," commented the hyena. The pizza was all gone, now, and he stared at the box as if wishing for more to appear by providence. “Especially accidental and unwanted pregnancies."
“Well, it's like… I mean, you just ate a whole pizza. That's a lot of pointless calories and fat, but it felt amazing, right?" the otter tried to explain. “It's sort of like that. Yeah, it's horrible for your body, but you just get that urge. Many women do. Even trans women. Don't ask me how that works."
“Right, but like… I guess that's a good point, except it's not as tasty as pizza and makes you swell up even more," her friend replied. “But the feeling makes up for it?"
“Yeah. The feeling of it happening. Savoring someone buried balls deep inside you – well, me – and just feeling them throb, knowing they're pumping you full. And the potential consequences. The risk only makes it hotter. It's a little like gambling too, so I guess with those two things in combination…"
The hyena raised his hands dramatically. “Pregnancy: like gambling with junk food. Two vices and a free baby on top! No, we could do with a better slogan…" he sighed, laying back down on the couch to listen to more of his friend's sordid tale.
Cinder was starting to feel the pleasure build up, as much as she tried to ignore it. A tingling, very familiar pressure that began somewhere between her lower belly and the very base of her spine, quickly coiling through her entire being like the snake in the garden of Eden. Pure, carnal lust, with each automated thrust of the vibrating inseminator-dildo. The same dildo that'd seal her fate, a pregnancy with her ex's pups, but only after forcing her to surrender. Cinder wasn't sure if she should direct her anger at the wolf or the zebra who had captured her, but that anger was becoming harder and harder to hold on to with the pleasure drowning it out.
Maybe it would be hot to be seeded by her ex again, right? It was one of those increasingly horny-brained excuses, but the perverse taboo of it only made it hotter, as the dildo continued its steady rhythm inside her.
The otter sighed, leaned back, and sighed again. “Sometimes I run out of inspiration for these sex scenes," she admitted. “Like, what do I do now? The commissoner paid for a much longer story than this. I could go back and describe her ex more, but that's kind of just sidetracking it…"
“You could just describe her pleasure more? I've seen you do it before," the hyena smiled, this time with encouragement. “The pleasure part is hot too, even if I don't like the consequences. Like, I'd love to be tied to a machine and forced to cum, maybe with some extra tickles and… well, y'know, feet."
“Yeah. Just, no inspiration. It just went poof," the otter sighed, for the third time in a few minutes. That was how you knew she was getting serious.
For a moment, they sat in silence. The otter moved her hands over the keyboard, tracing over each key and considering pressing it, as if looking for the beginning of a sentence. Then, as nothing happened – not one of the little brown switches clacked with that satisfying, muted sound – she sighed for the fourth time, stood up, pushed her chair aside, and tugged her skirt up.
“Cock, please. Let's get this done with," she ordered, and the hyena stood up as well, taking his place behind her and quickly unzipping his pants.
This was tried and tested routine for the two. The otter wrote better when, well, stimulated. Sometimes that meant her fingers, but when her editor was over for pizza, games, and writing night, he did, after all, carry with him something naturally better than the otter's fingers, no matter how skilled they were.
Sometimes, she even pretended to lose her flow in the middle of a story to have a more acceptable reason to ask to get fucked.
“I'm sure Cinder can hold on a little longer," the hyena smirked, gruffly, as he positioned the bloated head of his thick shaft at the otter's entrance. She was already rather wet from her writing, and she wiggled her rump with encouraging invitation. The moment her editor pushed a little harder – his glans popping into that slick, heated embrace of hers – she began to write again.
It was heavenly. Cinder had lasted an hour or so, by her own estimate. There were no clocks or watches in the room, and no natural light, so she couldn't be sure, but it felt like it'd been at least an hour since the lupine dildo began to rut into her. The vial of freshly harvested sperm was looking more and more appealing the longer the electrifying edging continued. Almost like Cinder wanted it to be emptied inside her.
She didn't want kids. She especially didn't want her bastard ex's bastards. But the thought of a warm load of seed to quench the tingly fire that the combination of pleasure and the aphrodisiac-induced ovulation had set smoldering inside her was like imagining water in the desert. At some point, it didn't matter how dirty the spring; she'd drink it anyway if parched enough.
Of course, she only felt parched for that feminine thirst for insemination. In reality, she was dripping wet, each thrust squelching as the dildo plunged into her weeping, soaked passage. Her wetness hung in thick strands – a telltale sign that the drug had taken and that she was in fact ovulating – from around where it forced its way into her with honeyed mechanical precision.
“Fuck you!" she yelled, though unsure if anyone was even listening. “Nobody can beat your f-f-fucking challenges if you just keep going! It's literally impossible!"
Her captor cared little for her impassioned plea, and the machine doing her bidding, less. It continued its steady thrusting, and even worse, kept changing the frequency the toy vibrated at so that her body would have no chance to grow numb to it. It was quickly becoming unbearable, and Cinder's burgeoning heat was threatening to pull her mind down into that chaotic morass of pleasure as well.
It'd drag her down, she'd drown, and then she'd walk away from here with an unwanted baby growing inside her. Or several. Maybe it'd be a litter that left her so heavy that she'd struggle to even walk. She hated the thought, and yet it felt so good to let her heated mind linger on the mental image of the wolf's swimmers finding her eggs and burrowing in, leaving her belly slowly swelling, until it was big and impossible to hide at all, ensuring that everyone that saw her would know she had let someone fill her pussy with their cum. And that someone would be the wolf she'd only recently split up with, because she'd have to rely on him to help take care of the pups.
“Nff, that's… working. Keep fucking me. Just like that," the otter begged, her hands busy on the keyboard – and steadying herself – as her editor gave her exactly the kind of inspiration she needed. That is, his hyenine shaft plunging into her welcoming body.
It made the scenes easier to visualize. She could feel him throbbing, and so it helped her describe how Cinder might've felt those artificial throbs too, or perhaps just imagined them as her brain blurred with pleasure and she began to imagine the synthetic shaft as real. It was like that; when deep enough in lust, everything felt different. More vivid, more sensual, more carnal, and just as in the story, the fantasies of getting pregnant became much more appealing too.
Oh, she didn't actually want it, or at least, she didn't think she did. Just like Cinder supposedly didn't. But there was no denying how sopping wet a bare cock and the fantasy of letting a man empty his balls inside her at the peak of her fertile period was. There was something that felt so beautiful, slick, and natural about taking a cock totally naked, with nothing between her womb and his sperm.
Forbidden pleasures, perhaps, in a modern world, but nonetheless perpetuated by timeless instincts ingrained in all living things, ones that cared little for modernity, reason, or even sentience. A series of pre-recorded moves, operated by instinct, all designed to lead to one singular outcome.
That was how she imagined Cinder was feeling, those fantasies blurring into the reality of things. She probably imagined herself getting fucked by her studly wolf ex-boyfriend again. That was how the Zebra Mask Zebra had set things up, after all, in her twisted plan to force the two together again, and that was why the machine used a canine dildo rather than a horse or the like.
All those thoughts flowed much more freely with a real cock sliding in and out of her real pussy. The pleasure quieted down the inner voice of doubt and freed up her mind to truly describe everything as vividly as possible. Her tail curled around the hyena's strong, flexing hip-muscles and squeezed him against herself, even as she continued to write.
“J-just like that, keep going," she moan-stuttered, encouraging her friend to keep fucking her. And he was all too happy to; he came over for talk and pizza, but the sex – when it happened – was always the pineapple on top. The otter often got so wet and eager writing her stories that sliding inside her felt like pure heaven. She was almost burning hot all around his equally eager cock, clenching down around it so hard that her body seemed to mold to it, caressing every inch of him at once.
Cinder was panting. Her legs trembled with pleasure, her breath caught in her throat and came out in stutters. It didn't matter how much she tried to resist. It didn't matter that her kidnapper's entire scheme was unfair and unwinnable. The false cock inside her had become more a force of nature than anything else, a symbol for her inevitable impregnation. She knew she was going to lose, and her body was cheering for the cruel zebra and her artificial cock.
The machine strummed her like a damned violin. Every thrust was refactored to pleasure her as much as possible. Sometimes the angle changed so the knot at the base pushed against her clit, and that feeling just made her gush all over the toy. The only reason she hadn't climaxed – yet – was that she hated the thought of giving the zebra-mask bitch even the slightest satisfaction or victory.
Her body might surrender, and maybe she couldn't stop it from doing so, but she was hell-bent on not enjoying it.
Then again, why not? It wasn't as if Cinder's captor was going to change her mind just because the otter didn't enjoy it. So, what was the problem with letting go? If it made no difference, she might as well moan out loud like her body kept telling her to do, to revel in the sensation of being fucked and then impregnated, even if it was with a mere dildo. The sperm inside it was real enough, and her body was drooling with anticipation to feel that heat blossom in the depths of her womb.
Maybe cumming her brains out was exactly what she should do, that traitorously horny part of her brain suggested, in a seductive whisper. That would show the damn zebra-masked bitch that she didn't give a shit. The thought coiled around her hazy mind like a snake, squeezing out all reason in its intoxicating, erotic senselessness. Yeah! That'd show her! She didn't even care if she got pregnant, so there was no punishment!
Get… pregnant…
…what was it she wasn't remembering? Something like-
“-fuckety fuck, I'm not on the pill," the otter groaned. Her friend thrust into her a few more times, teetering just the edge of climax, the words taking a moment to pass through the fog that engulfed his mind. “Stop!"
She didn't actually want to get pregnant. Sure, it was the hottest fantasy in the world, and she liked imagining it all the time, liked writing about it, and sometimes even stopped taking the pill to intensify the feeling of someone inside her bare and unprotected. Other times, she took it so she could enjoy the feeling of cum pumping into her. Right now, she hadn't been on it for a month, and although some part of her was screaming at her to stay quiet and let the hyena finish, she knew neither of them needed a surprise baby.
“Stop!" she repeated. And this time, her editor did stop, with a foggy look in his eyes and his meaty fingers squeezing her hips.
“Not… on the… fuuuck," he groaned. “I really wanted to- but yeah, better not-“
“-can use my feet, I know you love that," the otter, though rather frustrated herself, offered, peeling off her socks with her toes to leave them bare before the hyena fucked a load of cum into her out of sheer irritation. Gods only knew how badly she felt close to doing it herself.
“Don't… mind if I do," the hyena grunted. He was, as he often stated, not exactly into getting people pregnant. But pulling out of the otter's hot, wet embrace still required a titanic amount of willpower. He might've not wanted to seed her, but his cock and balls had their own ideas. Still, with some effort, and some biting his tongue, he managed to pull out.
Quickly, he grabbed the otter and flipped her over onto her writing chair, so that she was on her back with her legs quickly raised up her editor's strong arms. He grasped for her soft feet, and immediately pressed them together around his cock.
Maybe it didn't feel as good as being inside her, physically speaking. But his mind was crying out in pleasure feeling his friend's beautiful footpaws slip wetly over his shaft, and he began to thrust like a man possessed the instant he clasped his hands around her feet. He fucked them hard, and thanks to what'd effectively been their foreplay, he was damn close already, fucking the otter's feet hard enough that her breasts bounced with each motion.
She imagined the rest of the story while obligingly curling her toes around her friend's cock, letting him finish up. She could always rub herself to a climax – or half a dozen – later on, while writing the last part. There wasn't much left, anyway. She'd remember it.
Her mind was made up. Cinder wasn't going to lose, she was going to win by cumming deliberately, and eagerly taking every drop of her ex's sperm into herself! Then, with her mind clear, she could focus on actually escaping if her captor didn't let her go.
Was it sound logic? No. But the mind of a bitch in heat had no room for logic.
And it felt better than gnashing her teeth with fury as she was forced to cum anyway. Cinder stopped resisting, and the sensations inside her were instantly amplified a thousandfold without her constant efforts to suppress them. Her pussy clenched wetly around the dildo as she allowed it to fuck her towards ecstasy, and she wasn't far off.
The moment she came, she knew, it'd hilt inside her, and then it'd pump that life-giving cargo of seed into her belly. Cinder wanted it, wanted it so badly her tail was wagging underneath the seat she was strapped to. She couldn't help it. The thought of it erupting inside her, hopefully twitching and throbbing like a real cock would in the moment of her seeding felt like the only thing that could put of the fire of her induced heat.
Like a splash of water on a hot day, only far more likely to leave her belly swelling.
Cinder didn't care. She was almost there. Seconds away from a glorious, blinding orgasm, and fuck the consequences. The knot on the dildo pushed against her swollen folds harder and harder, and she knew it was only seconds away from slipping in. Then, just like with a live canine, there'd be no way out before her body had drunk every drop of sperm it had to offer.
There was an immense moment of pressure, suddenly, and she realized the knot had popped into her. The feeling of being tied had always been the purest of aphrodisiacs for the otter, and this time was no different, fake cock or not. The instant her body clamped down around the knot, kickstarting the pump that connected the toy and the vial of potent sperm that'd seal her fate as a mother, she was already cumming.
Sure, it was expertly engineered so she'd be as receptive as possible. So that her contractions would suck every drop of cum deep into her body, and that her cervix would dip into the pooling cum inside her and let it swim up her tubes. But none of that mattered as the pleasure washed over Cinder. One moment she was tensed up, the next she was crying out in pleasure at the top of her lungs, squirming helplessly in her chair as she watched the vial of thick, cloudy cum drain into the tubes.
Then it erupted into her in a firm, hot jet, bathing her receptive cervix in her ex's unwanted swimmers, and the sensation, though muted, was enough to make her scream, squealing and whimpering with how good it felt. Every single moment of it. The way the dildo's throbs inside her mimicked a real man orgasming. The faint insistent tickling of her cervix by each rope of cum. The sloppy heat building inside her. And of course, the overwhelming spasms of pleasure that seemed to radiate through her whole body, as her traitorous cunt milked the toy dry into itself, ensuring her impregnation.
But there was a deeper level to it than even the shattering pleasure-shocks. A satisfaction that she had never felt before, of being inseminated when ovulating, when as fertile as she could possibly be. It was like a high, a drunken giggliness that engulfed her as her body rewarded her for finally “allowing" herself to be bred.
Why had she even waited this long? If it felt this good, she should've let the wolf breed her the instant he had asked to, and every time after that!
As her orgasm ebbed, her body having had its fill, Cinder relaxed into the seat, panting with a deep, deep sense of utter contentment. She was half conscious at best, her mind drifting in and out of errant fantasies of motherhood, of wolf cocks, of breeding, and everything in between. She was spent, and couldn't have been happier in spite of her violation.
With her climax over, and the vial of sperm empty, the monitors turned on again, showing the emotionless, masked face of Cinder's captor.
“It would appear that you've lost. As always, you were unable to control your emotions, and now, you're stuck paying the price," her captor said. “Just as your ex-partner did. Clearly you were meant for each other."
Cinder couldn't see her grin, but she could hear it, even beneath the latex mask. If it wasn't for her being utterly drunk on the afterglow of her orgasm, after being edged for what had to be hours, she would've found it infuriating. But right now, her whole world was a soft, warm place where no unhappy thoughts existed. Yeah, she had just been forced into heat and then inseminated, but that was just as good. It was what her body was made for, wasn't it? Besides, there was always a chance that she wasn't pregnant at all. A clear, distinct, if rather small chance. Her ex had always been rather potent, or at least potently sized.
The time to worry would come later, when she had to face the consequences of the night. And, hey, she told herself. At least she and her ex could have all the unprotected sex they wanted. Like he always wanted, and like she had too, if it hadn't been for the consequences that no longer mattered. They'd had their emotional differences, but the muscular wolf had always been amazing in bed.
So instead of protesting, instead of saying anything at all, she wore that satisfied, lopsided grin proudly and lazily wiggled her hips, feeling the dildo move around inside her, its potent and slimy cargo safely deposited somewhere in her depths.
Well, bar for the small trickle she could feel drooling out. But that was fine too.
“Don't bother looking for me," her captor continued. “You won't find me. But if you look too hard, I will find you."
A hissing sound filled the room, followed by a gas that tasted like cotton candy, and with nowhere to escape to, it quickly rendered the otter unconscious in just a couple of breaths. Moments later, her captor entered the room, her mask evidently protecting her from the gas.
Quietly, she examined her work, adjusting the chair to raise Cinder's hips to ensure all the cum pooled against her cervix, where it belonged, rather than leaking out as she, moments later, gently pulled the spent dildo out of her and replaced it with a thick plug that she secured in place with the otter's own panties.
She'd wake up tomorrow in her own home, to which the zebra had long since copied the key to. After tonight, she would probably change the locks, but what did that matter when her very body had already been infiltrated?
Maybe she'd be one of the ones who chose denial, pretending that nothing had happened until her belly grew too big to ignore. Or maybe she'd embrace her pregnancy and finally let her handsome wolf fuck her the way he deserved to, the zebra didn't know yet. But she would; she had rigged Cinder's home up with enough camera to capture anything interesting that might happen.
For now, it was simply a matter of taking the little otter home. With a groan, the zebra hoisted Cinder onto her shoulders and carried her out of the bunker and towards her new life as a mother.
The hyena erupted all over her feet, cum splattering most of her bare lower half as well, as it tended to do in the throes of passion. A couple ropes of his seed landed wetly on her bare pussy, too, warm and slick against her lips. It took some willpower to not push a finger through the mess and into herself. Even if she wasn't into feet herself, feeling a friend throbbing against the sensitive skin of her soles still felt sexy. And of course, the memory of her story-self, having been well and truly inseminated, lingered in her mind with what almost seemed like jealousy.
But real life was different from all the fantasies she wrote about, as much as they riled her up. Maybe one day she'd happen upon a latex suit, a virus, or a hypnotist that turned her into a mindless horny slut who could always be shamelessly pregnant, but today was not that day.
The hyena was left breathing heavily as he quickly, with a somewhat sheepish grin, brought out some tissues to wipe his cum off the otter's paws – though not before letting his self-admiring gaze linger on her toes and the way his cum stretched between them – then her belly, and finally, the few splatters on her puffy slit, while careful as to not push it in.
“You won't get um… pregnant, from that, right?" he asked.
He was rather more used to male partners, though that might've purely been because women seemed less eager to have casual sex with their friends.
“No, tiny chance. Like, I don't think any of it went into me," the otter giggled. She, unlike her friend, was still horny. “Unlike poor Cinder."
“You say 'poor' as if you've ever written a woman who doesn't like, secretly, instinctively, want to get knocked up," the hyena laughed.
Perhaps there was some truth to that. But that was only because a completely unwanted pregnancy wasn't hot at all past the messy moment of conception. The singular reason that she hadn't just started masturbating with her friend's cum.
“Okay," he continued, clearing his throat and sitting back down, as much he wanted to keep admiring the otter's feet, or for that matter, the rest of her body. “Let's get the rest of this story done, shall we?"
The otter nodded, and began to type out the story as she had imagined it, while the hyena, acting in his role as her editor, kept pointing out minor issues and whatever else he found amusing, and together, they worked long into the night.