Farewell, My Master
A young Vixen sits, inconsolable, by the deathbed of her Whitetail Stag master, a kind, gentle buck, who raised her from when she was an eight week old Kit, but as he lays dying, he confides a dark secret to her, and reveals the truth - she is not what she thinks she is...
Farewell, my Master © Cederwyn Whitefurr 10th February, 2012 All Rights Reserved.
Lying on a bed, the silvery-furred Whitetail buck raised a palsied and liver-spotted paw, and gestured weakly to the young Vixen who stood nearby; tears sliding down her beautiful furred cheeks as she bravely tried to hold her emotions in check. Wheezing for breath, the elderly stag glanced at the medical instruments and stands that surrounded him - and he uttered a feeble croak - wether he was aiming it at the Vixen, or the machinery which clicked, beeped and hissed - tubes and cables covering his withered chest, his fur dry and ribs poking through his gaunt frame. Reaching up, the stag coughed and tore the cannula from his nostrils and let it fall to the bed, as the vixen moaned and rushed to the elder buck's side.
"Leave it - " He whispered, his voice as old as what his failing body appeared.
"Master - but you'll die without the supplementary oxygen - your lungs...." Whimpered the Vixen, as she picked up the tubes and held them in a quivering paw.
"My love...my dear...sweet - gentle pet..." Coughed the stag, then drew a quavering breath. "You have stood by my side...for years...you were my life, my lover and...my very reason for living. Do you know...no...you won't know..."
Sobbing, the Vixen picked up a withered paw and laid it against her cheek, holding it there as she wept helplessly, her master lay dying - and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Never in her life, had she felt so helpless - so...powerless - as she watched him struggling to breathe.
"Master...please - please don't...don't do this - " She wailed, gazing into his eyes.
"My pet...my love - you...you're just as beautiful now...as when I first bought you, eighty-four years ago..." he rasped, the coughed, a rattling sound in his chest.
"I..." Stammered the Vixen, eyes widening. "Master...you're delirious..I..."
"Listen to me..." Gurgled the buck, as he weakly clutched the vixen's paw. "You...you were cloned...dozens of times...during my life. I...I could not bear the thought - of losing you my beloved..."
Horror slowly spread across the anthropomorphic Vixen's muzzle, as her eyes widened and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
"No...please master - how can you be so cruel to me? I loved you - what we had...what we shared...in your bed and..." She wailed, clutching his quivering paw.
"Listen...to me - " He uttered another low, choking cough, his furred fingers closing on hers gently - the arthritis in his joints causing him agony, but he didn't show it. "You...are not...what you appear. I was...given a pet...a young...oh, so young...you were only ...eight weeks old - a Kit..."
he drew a rattling breath, then continued, feeling his strength weakening second by second, but knowing this gentle Vixen deserved to know the truth...as painful as it was.
"You...my love - I...I loved you as a pet, raised you...cuddled you when you cried as a Kit...fed you and adored you. When...when you grew up - you followed me everywhere - your inquisitive nature and mischievous behaviour...brought me such pleasure. Alas, you grew older and older - and I knew - one day, you would die...so I...I turned my knowledge of genetics and cloning...to purpose they never...were meant to be used for - You were my closest - of companions - and when you died - I was heartbroken and lost..."
Her fur crawling, and nape hairs rising, the Vixen was transfixed by the stag's death-bed confession, the tears that dripped off her whiskers going unnoticed.
"I took samples...a little of your blood - some of your fur...and through countless trials and errors - I cloned you...making you an...anthropomorphic Vixen..." He moaned and swallowed, gazing at her from eyes that glistened with tears. "I...played God - my knowledge - was never meant to do this...but I could not bear...the thought of losing you my love. I...had no right - you lived a full...rich life...and should have been left to die...peacefully in your sleep - which is what you did. I could not bear - living my life without you...so your clone was imprinted - with your personality, your feelings - everything...that made you...you."
He swallowed and felt her tears on his paw, before gazing back into her eyes and resuming his confession. He didn't have long left, he knew that - but he knew - she deserved the truth.
"You were...more feral - than anthropomorphic...when you first came into the world - and I trained you...taught you to walk - to speak...to think for yourself...and as you grew, you showed remarkable intelligence and thought... We...you worshipped me as some sort of...God? Is that the right...no - you worshipped me...at first - as a father figure...and late one night - on your twelfth birthday...I took you...and made you my lover...."
"You..." Whined the vixen, her triangular ears flattening, as she stared at the stag.
"Please...don't...don't misunderstand - you...you age faster...than a normal anthropomorphic creature... in some ways - one year for one such as me - is like...six years...for you. You...and I...we...our love was real, my dear...beloved pet. I never forced your paw...you always...come to me...and our lovemaking was a gentle...compassionate thing - "
Whimpering, the Vixen stroked the buck's limp paw, speechless.
"You..you don't know any of this...you...you can't...for I...I wiped your memories - every time I had too...clone you again. I did not want you...to remember your past lives - the...the stress and knowledge, would have..." He croaked, then gestured weakly for the water glass, with its straw on the sideboard.
Holding the straw against his lips, she watched him take a tiny sip, before he coughed and lay his head back down on the thick pillows.
"My love...I...I love you...I always have...and I always...will - " He gurgled, then trembled and groaned. "I...one last...time - I would...please...can you...you help an old, tired buck... remember...our love?"
Blinking away her tears, the young vixen frowned, then realising what this elderly stag wanted, she swallowed and slid off the bed sheet, gazing at his gaunt, emaciated form. She had no memory of him as a strong, muscular and athletic stag of his youth - his beautiful fur as soft to the touch as a feather - his warmth and enthusiastic lovemaking they had shared - often for hours on end...none of these memories existed in her mind, all she knew - was she loved him - and would honour his dying wish...as twisted as it seemed to her - something inside of her glimmered like a dying ember - something...that compelled her to obey.
Carefully, she straddled his hips, her left paw holding his long sheath, beneath which she felt the thin, but strong bone that ran up inside his member...and she stroked him slowly, listening as his breath caught in his throat - and he coughed - the rattling in his chest growing worse.
"I...I can't...become...aroused any-more...my love - you...you will have too...please - please use your paws...slide the sheath slightly back and...and make me...make me...remember - please!" He pleaded, his eyes shining with longing for a distant memory to be rekindled.
With a weak sniffle, the Vixen obeyed, her furred fingers carefully sliding his sheath down a few inches, exposing his pale penis - its slightly bulbed head quivering in the cool temperatures of the room. Not really knowing why she did it - the vixen carefully held one paw, her fingers holding the sheath retracted - then she lifted herself up and cautiously slid herself forwards - and then lowered her warm furred thighs either side of the stag's hips.
She felt him begin to mount her, and she gasped - the pleasure of it slowly unfolding like a precious flower in her mind - as buried memories began to open up before her. With a gasp, she felt her tight folds pressing against his sheath, and as she rocked cautiously, he twitched and uttered a low, feeble coughing...long forgotten memories of why he loved this vixen, returning to his own mind. He knew he could no longer obtain an erection - he hadn't been able to do that for over twenty years - but the sensation of the tight, almost virginal walls of the young vixen sliding down his length....
She moaned and twitched her hips carefully, feeling him slide as deeply as she could take him, his sheath pushed almost to the bottom - as she groaned and trembled. Memories, she knew she should not have, rushed back into her mind in a wave of endorphins released pleasure, before she gasped and looked down at her master, who lay his head back against the pillows and let his tongue slide from his muzzle, the unmistakable look on his old, withered muzzle - made the Vixen smile with pride and love for her master.
For nearly three minutes, he felt the vixen riding him, the sensation of her tight walls along his member - and the memories of all the times they had made love in his younger years - it brought a tear to his eye, before he moaned and for the first time in nearly thirty-five years - he gave a single bucking thrust against the vixen - and felt his semen flooding into her warm body. She squealed in fright and alarm, not knowing what was happening, and rocked forwards instinctively, pushing his still orgasming penis against her cervix - his watery seed slowing to a few weak dribbles, before a final single spurt...
"Master..." She cried, slapping her paws to his shoulders and staring at him in sickened horror.
"My...dear...beloved..." he gurgled, his eyes shimmering with tears. "One last...gift for...you..."
He twitched, then his body collapsed onto the bed, and he drew a slow, wheezing breath - before he never breathed again....
Blinking, the Vixen moaned, her eyes widening in disbelief, as she screamed and pounded his fragile chest, shrieking her grief, rage and misery - disbelieving her beloved master had passed away...
*
Months later, the Vixen waddled towards the dusty laboratory, sneezing as the fine particulate of the powdery dust irritated her sensitive nostrils. One paw clasped her swollen belly, and the thin lab coat she wore over herself, bulged almost obscenely over her distended belly. She was with child - she had known nearly eight months ago - but what made her nauseous and afraid...was she had only ever - in all her lives, that lay within her mind now, like links of sausages in a chain of sausages...even the moments of her many deaths - was her one true memory...
She had only ever made love to one man - across nearly eighty plus years...and that man - she had bred for the last time - on his deathbed...as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she flattened her ears and uttered a piercing, heartbroken scream of misery and grief - as she cried out for the love of her life - her Whitetail master.....
END