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Human Bitches

Chapter Six: Cold Beds and Warm

by Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Morning always comes too soon when you've had a terrible night. Shania groaned softly as she looked at the clock. It was Sunday morning, and she supposed that her mother would want her to go to church. But, then again, her mother wasn't there - no big surprise - and Shania was in no shape for meeting anyone as she was right then.

Rolling out of her bed, Shania glanced around, noting the girlish trappings, the stuffed animals and other cute little knickknacks from a more innocent time. It was all a lie, of course: Shania had never really been allowed time for innocence. Her mother brought home all those toys and random girlish things because she thought that was what Shania wanted, never taking the time to ask Shania her feelings in the matter. With her mother away on business all the time or dating some of the limited supply of men left in the city, Shania had been forced to grow up on her own, and it had made it so very hard for her to trust people.

People like Spike.

All Shania had to do was close her eyes to call back the memories, clear as if they were happening once more before her, of the events of yesterday evening. She could remember the semen leaking from both Benny's and Rachael's vaginas, a sight that she would never forget, knowing that the pit bull morph had almost surely made her friend and her friend's dogservant pregnant, even as the two lovingly cuddled against each other so very closely. Shania remembered Spike's hand on her head as she knelt on the floor of the breeding room, remembered the thrill of knowing that she might soon be joining Rachael with a baby in her belly. No, not a baby: a canomorph's puppy. It was at once impossibly erotic, and impossibly forbidden, and the forbidden part of it just made it that much more erotic, the two feeding on each other. The overwhelming power of that realization was too much for Shania to handle, and she was only dimly aware when Spike asked whether she or Bird would be next. Of course she couldn't answer in the state she was in, her mind reeling from the burst of primal instincts washing over her. It was all Shania could do to register Bird volunteering, eagerly, rising to her feet to let Spike lead the ponytailed blonde over to the breeding bench.

Spike was murmuring softly in Bird's ear that she wasn't fertile right then, that he wouldn't get her pregnant - this time. The way he added emphasis to this time was enough to make Shania's legs go weak, so she couldn't even get up from the floor, but could only watch, still kneeling, as Bird's own legs wobbled. Spike was there, though, his strong hands gripping the other girl's hips, holding Bird up, and then helping her climb up onto the breeding bench. Bird's eyes were frozen, staring at Spike's renewed erection, until he gently turned her head, and then wrapped a soft leather strap around her neck, cinching it tightly, but not too tightly, pinning Bird's head in place, facing forward. His tongue ran across her the lines of her back, her spine, her ribs, her full, dangling breasts as they were squeezed to either side by the angled, padded top of the bench. At the same time, his hands were always moving, always working, cinching strap after strap into place, restraining Bird's waist, her wrists, her upper arms, her thighs, her ankles. Bird had to be held rather firmly at times, because all the skilled licking was making her squirm in eager anticipation, her rising lust driving her out of her mind, the slow loss of control of the situation, placing steadily more and more power over her destiny into Spike's hands, a powerful intoxicant, more potent than any drug, any drink.

Vaguely, Shania heard Spike growl to Bird that he was going to have her anally again, since this time he couldn't get her pregnant anyway. Again that magic phrase, this time, made Bird's whole body tense up, the girl so aroused her juices were running copiously down her inner thighs, staining the soft padding of the breeding bench. From the tray with his tools of the trade, where he'd put the maidenblade after he'd finished using it on Rachael, Spike picked up a fairly large squeeze bottle, then poured out a copious quantity of clear liquid over Bird's bottom and heavily-flushed cunny. Setting the bottle down, Spike's big hand then covered those tender places, rubbing them slowly at first, but then quickly starting to pick up the pace, until soon Bird's body was rocking back and forth in her bindings, her cries of rising pleasure growing steadily louder and more desperate. Then, just as Bird seemed right on the edge of...something, what Shania wasn't completely sure, except that she could see her friend's whole body utterly tense, as though she was about to explode into a million pieces, Spike stopped, leaving the poor girl tied to the breeding bench sobbing in desperation, pleading for Spike not to leave her like that.

Instead of answering poor Bird's begging cries and near-sobs, Spike only grinning toothily, and turned away from her, walking over to where Shania was still kneeling. The black girl's eyes widened as Spike reached down, and helped her to her feet.

"After I've had Bird's bottom," he growled in Shania's ear, his voice so very growly, and so very sexy as he led her toward where Bird was held captive, "I'm gonna strap you to the breeding bench. And I'm gonna have your virgin cunny, Shania," he added with a nip to the back of her neck, gently pushing her back to her knees, her face only a hand's breadth away from Bird's heavily-flushed cunny. "Unlike Bird," he continued, slowly pressing Shania's head forward, until her lips were just barely touching Bird's lower lips, "you're ripe."

It wasn't a possibility, Shania realized with a jolt: if Spike put his penis in her, she would get pregnant, guaranteed. This made her mouth fall open, her hands going to her now-flat stomach. Almost without meaning to, then, her mouth began to move, to lick and then to suck on the juicy pink parts of her best friend, listening at the same time to Bird's loud cries of pleasure as she was quickly brought back to the peak of pleasure where Spike had left her - with Shania as the one to bring her there she realized with a small surge of pride and sympathetic pleasure - and Spike's sexy voice growling softly in her ear about what a beautiful mother Shania would make, how sexy she'd be with her belly all swollen with his puppies, how he'd help to soothe the desperate arousal she'd have during her pregnancy with a steady diet of hot, raw sex, how she'd be his, and how he'd make sure she never regretted it.

Drunk on her own rising pleasure, Shania's hips started to buck as one of Spike's big hands stroked over her tight little bottom and then into the cleft between her legs, rubbing everything down there with such slow, expert skill, being careful not to press too hard against her own hymen, not until the time was right for her to give it up. At the same time, while Shania's mouth was eagerly working her friend up to the pinnacle of orgasmic bliss, Spike's other hand was slowly working his fingers into Bird's bottom, stretching her anal ring open slowly and carefully, while Bird started to make a high-pitched whining noise, which grew steadily louder and more desperate, until it finally burst into a scream of desperate orgasm, the girl's whole body shaking as she was overwhelmed with pleasure. Shania had to desperately suck on the gush of juices that threatened to drown her just to keep ahead of the outflow, and only just barely noticed when Spike lifted a leg over her head, his huge paws gripping Bird's bottom firmly, spreading her cheeks apart. The black girl only looked up just in time as Spike shifted one hand to his raging hard cock, guiding it into place at Bird's well-lubricated and well-prepared anus, before he was gripping her bum once more, and then slowly, gently, squeezing himself forward.

In a daze of arousal, Shania moved her head back, wiping Bird's juices off her chin absently as she watched, wide-eyed, as Spike sank himself slowly, steadily, into Bird's bottom. The blonde girl was crying out almost incoherently, urging him onward, begging Spike to hump her like an animal, to make her cum, to do anything he wanted with her, telling him how she wanted his babies, how she'd do anything he wanted - anything - because she knew it would be so very, very good. And then, when his heavy balls slapped lightly against Bird's cunny, she didn't say anything at all, the only noise she made a high-pitched, drawn-out wail as another orgasm tore through her body, and then another as Spike pulled himself back, Shania watching, awed, as Bird's tense sphincter clung to his shaft as though not wanting to let it go, before he plowed back into her, fingers digging into her delicate, pale skin. All pretense of gentleness left Spike's manner after that, as he started to just let it go, to act on his instincts and let his bestial self take over, humping Bird's tight, toned butt with an animal passion, a passion that Bird answered with her own animal need, her own loud, animal-like cries, which mingled with Spike's savage grunts and growls and terrifyingly sexy snarls, his hips and balls slapping loudly against Bird's pink skin, quickly turning it red.

Almost without realizing what she was doing, Shania let her hand stroke down her smooth, flat tummy, teasing for a moment into the dimple of her belly button, before she stroked down still further, over her pubis, and then into her cunny, stroking herself, trying to capture a small fraction of the pleasure that Bird was obviously feeling at that moment. Her other hand went to her breasts, stroking over the modest little mounds easily, fingertips teasing the perked nipples one at a time. Dimly, Shania was aware of Yoko in the background, just as she'd been during all of the proceedings in the breeding room, as naked as Shania was, rubbing herself eagerly as she filmed everything with that portable little camera of hers.

It was too much. Unable to hold herself back any more, Shania bent forward, both her hands leaving her body to grab Spike's butt, squeezing it, groping it wantonly. The canomorph had such a cute butt, it was the first thing that Shania had to touch, before her attentions shifted southward. Spike gave a soft grunt as he glanced back, his eyes widening when he felt Shania's gentle hands on his swollen balls, stroking them, cradling them lightly, making his eager, frantic thrusting slow down. It was enough for Shania to tilt her head upward, kissing the back of each heavy, sperm-laden orb, and then a little bit higher, her tongue extending to probe firmly at the spot right behind Spike's sac. Shania had been about to lavish attention on all of Spike's private parts, and Bird's as well, starting with this first, experimental taste of his body, savoring the surprisingly pleasant tang of his sweaty, muscled form, but the effect that her probing tongue had on Spike was vastly more powerful than anything she'd expected. With a loud bark, Spike's hips jerked forward and started to pound Bird's buns like a jackhammer, pumping her good and hard and fast, faster than he'd taken her before, until Bird gave a loud, answering wail, her entire body tensing up powerfully, her cunny, right before Shania's eyes, visibly pulsing in orgasm after orgasm, her anal ring, so well-stretched around the canomorph's thick cock, reacting similarly, until Shania found it a wonder that Spike was able to move his hips at all, as powerful as Bird's contractions must be clenching down on his cock.

Then, with a long, final moan, Bird's whole body just went limp, and Spike very nearly collapsed on top of her, his whole body trembling slightly from the intensity of sensation that had wracked him. But he didn't collapse, only held himself there, resting gently on top of Bird, letting her feel his comforting weight and warmth, his hands stroking her sweat-sheened body, whispering soft and gentle words of soothing comfort in her ears until the blonde-haired girl let her eyes close, her breathing coming smooth and slow and deep.

It was at this point that Shania's memories grew painful to recall. Pulling himself slowly out of her best friend, his copious cum leaking heavily from her well-stretched bottom, Spike turned to face Shania, his expression lusty, eager, but also commanding, his bedroom eyes catching and holding her as though she were his prey. He walked toward her, his penis already standing at erection once more, ready to be thrust inside of her and plant his seed in her womb. The big male's hand gripped Shania's hip, pulling her smooth, naked body against his own, his cock rubbing her stomach, leaving a trail of his seed on her milk chocolate skin, while his other hand gently cupped her chin, lifting her face to his own as he bent, and kissed her.

Suddenly, as the hand that had been on her chin stroked down her neck and back, and then rested on her bottom, giving her a light squeeze, Shania felt a surge of panic rush through her. Spike was demanding with his presence, his powerful body language, his very being, that Shania trust him, that she submit to him, that she let him do as he pleased with her, because, ultimately, what he pleased would also be what she pleased. But she didn't trust him! She didn't dare! Breathing hard, Shania's hands came up, pressing against Spike's chest, pushing herself away from him. He held on for a moment, blinking in surprise as she broke their kiss, but then released his grip on her butt and then her hip, carefully, so as not to let Shania fall over with the force of pulling away from him.

"What's wrong, Shania?" Spike asked, his savage, feral face showing such an astonishing amount of concern for the human girl. Though his cock was still rock-hard, that was just the result of his instincts. The man himself was totally focused on Shania, on making sure she was all right. He wasn't going to rape her, even as desperately aroused as he was, and as sudden and unexpected as her rejection had been. Spike cared more about her feelings than his own.

For a moment, Shania's feelings wavered, and she almost threw herself back into the strong arms of the powerful male. Then she shook her head, stepping further away from him, then going to the table where she'd left her clothes, feeling his eyes on her bare black bottom as she walked and as she bent over to collect her things. It was a nice feeling, she quietly admitted to herself, feeling desired under those eyes, and worthy of that desire. The feeling was easier to push aside now, though, as Shania hastily pulled her pants and then her shirt back on, not bothering with underwear right then, and then slipped her shoes on without socks.

"I need to go home," she said insistently, noticing that Yoko was there as well, getting her own clothes back on. "My mother will be worried about me."

Spike hadn't said a word to her after that. He'd just called a taxi for her and Yoko - the same ratmorph as last time, Abu by name - and they'd both been driven home, Spike footing the bill. He hadn't tried to force the issue, hadn't tried to talk her out of it. The muscled canomorph, with more than enough obvious strength to make Shania do pretty much anything he wanted, and Yoko as well, out there in his junkyard, far from anyone who might hear and intervene (anyone human, that is), seemed to sense, in the same way animals sense such things, that neither girl was ready for mating at that time, however wet their pussies might be. Prepared in body, perhaps, but not in mind, and even if they enjoyed what he might do to them, it would destroy something important between himself and them, and within them both as well, if he crossed that line. So Spike didn't, and just let them go quietly. Shania had seen him, standing at the front gate of the junkyard, staring after them as the darkness of the late spring night slowly fell.

Why hadn't she just let it happen? Answering the question was a source of constant agony for Shania as she lay on her bed, trying to wish the morning sun starting to peek through her window away to somewhere - anywhere - else, to somehow lengthen out the night and the time Shania might have for fleeting sleep. Not that she was likely to sleep much anyway, not with her mind and body in the state they were.

It was all about trust, Shania realized. She didn't trust Spike. No, that wasn't quite right. She didn't trust anyone, not really, not completely. This was a realization Shania had come to a long time ago, at least unconsciously, but it was the first time she had consciously pulled it to the fore of her thoughts, the first time she had openly acknowledged her lack of trust to herself. Of course her mother hadn't been expecting her last night, or most nights for that matter, and that was the whole point. She'd been let down by the one person who should never let down her loved ones, especially not her own children.

This almost immediately brought Spike's words about Shania's own readiness to have children to her recollection, the thought sending a strange and forbidden thrill through her once more. What would it be like, being pregnant with the children of another species? Would she make a better mother than her own mother had been for her? Shania didn't know, but the thought took hold on her imagination, and the more she rolled it around in her head, the more she realized that she liked it, even welcomed it. When she added in the thought of one of her friends, Rachael, being pregnant with Spike's puppies, while she'd rejected such an opportunity, it left a hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach.

No, Shania finally resolved deep inside. Next time, if there is a next time, I won't run away. I'll trust Spike, and, if it comes to that, I'll have his children.

It was at that moment, as Shania was starting to rise from the cold, comfortless, and tangled sheets of her bed with fresh determination to face the coming day, that the phone rang. With nobody else there in that too-large house to answer, Shania stepped out into the hallway, still wearing the same clothes she'd worn yesterday, and picked up the receiver.

"Hey, Shania, it's Bird," came the voice that was thought by a great many (Shania sometimes counting herself among that number, though not today) to be far too bright and perky for so early in the morning. "I was just calling to see if you wanted to come work out with me and Martinique. We're going to Spike's so we can use his track."

This was too perfect. Shania didn't bother restraining the grin that settled on her face as she heard Opportunity knocking a second time.

"Yeah, I'll come," she answered Bird, still amazed that the girl could be so energetic after what Spike had put her through for two days in a row. She guessed that Bird must get some really good sleep afterward. "Where you at?"

"Just a few blocks down, at the Parker Street bus stop. We're waiting for some others on the soccer team to show up. After I told them about Spike, they were pretty interested in seeing what he can do."

Though Bird was talking about physical training, something that Shania knew was sorely lacking from their school at that time, their aging PE teacher having largely given up on the athletics program while just waiting for retirement at the end of that school year, Shania got the strong impression of double entendre behind those words, and she had to suppress a giggle.

"Just give me a few minutes to get a quick shower in," she said to Bird. "I'll be right there."

"Looking forward to it."

*

People always thought they knew Yoko, and that she wasn't deep enough for further consideration. People, of course, were wrong. Sure, Yoko was pretty heavily into sex, but she'd never had any personally. For all her interest in the subject and her love of porn, Yoko hadn't even popped her own cherry, instead using the vibrator she hid under her bed only on the outside parts of her pussy. Actually, Yoko was quite proud of her pussy, knowing she had one that was awfully small and snug and, she felt, rather pretty to look at, and so she normally took good care of it, using occasional microorganism-rich washes to keep her pubic hair, which was as thick and black as the hair on her head, but a little more curly, from growing at all for months at a time, so as not to obscure her personal view of her own pussy. Yoko always thought that the washes were a pretty neat invention, but she supposed that if they could design entirely new vertebrate species, then just using genetic engineering to make the equivalent of a painless bikini wax shouldn't be anywhere as hard by comparison. Lots of girls as well as women used them, especially at this time when men and especially boys were so scarce, and any advantage that might encourage a guy to hang around was considered a good thing. For the last few months, though, Yoko'd had a hard time smuggling stuff into the house, her mother on one of her extra-attention kicks where she tried to micromanage the lives of her two daughters, which was why Yoko's pubic hair had grown back, thick and dark, the way Spike had seen it. It was annoying, and it itched, and Yoko just hoped her mother would quit being so protective soon. Shaving off her pubes was something Yoko didn't want to do, since she hated the thought of anything sharp getting near her precious pussy, besides the fact that a razor just didn't do as good a job, but at this rate, she might be forced to swallow her pride and trepidation and get down to it.

It was pride, actually, that had kept Yoko from letting Spike have her. Going into the breeding room, she'd known right away that she was entering Spike's domain, the place where he would be the one calling all the shots, where he'd be the one in control. That was fun and all, Yoko had to admit, as she admitted a liking for stories and occasional pictures with dominance and submission themes, but for her first time, Yoko really wanted to be the one fully in charge of the situation. Well, as she thought about it, she'd settle for mostly in charge, but definitely the center of attention.

Of course, Yoko wasn't at all idle in making arrangements for just that. On her way out, hanging off slightly to the side while Shania had stood near the front gate and Spike had been inside, calling for a taxi, a cocker spaniel morphgirl had walked over to her. The young woman was actually pretty cute for a morph, with a shapely figure, just a little bit plump, with fairly wide hips that looked perfect for childbearing, and full breasts. She was wearing a Roadkill Café t-shirt, which she filled out quite well, and some nice-looking jeans.

The spaniel's name, as it turned out, was Girl, the name Spike had given her. She was Spike's mate, actually, and this revelation had almost floored the normally unflappable Yoko. Apparently she'd been watching everything through the cameras she had set up around the entire junkyard, and when she'd seen Yoko, she felt that she'd found a kindred spirit. As they talked some more, Yoko soon got that feeling as well, the two females, though of different species, somehow almost immediately feeling that innate connection that comes for those with similar hearts.

There hadn't been much time to talk at that point, but they'd traded contact information, and when Yoko got home and escaped to the safety and privacy of her room, she was pleasantly surprised to discover that Girl had sent her an e-mail. It wasn't long before they'd started chatting online, and soon Girl shared everything with Yoko. Everything.

Actually, Yoko had to admit she was pretty impressed at how smoothly Girl had set the whole thing up. Her heart went out to Girl's plight: being designed to have children even more easily than other morphs, a species which were themselves intended to excel at breeding; how Girl wanted children, craved the chance to hold them in her arms and raise them, all her instincts and the energy of her soul crying out for the opportunity; an opportunity that was cruelly denied because of the actions of one very evil man. Add in the cruel irony that Spike's side job, as a trainer and breeder, involved him frequently giving children to other females, children that Girl would often never even get to see, and it was enough to wrench anyone's heartstrings. How could Yoko hold anything against Girl under circumstances like these? Spike didn't, as Yoko was overjoyed to learn; he'd actually figured out Girl's game right before the breeding session where he'd deflowered Rachael, and he'd gone along with it anyway, because he loved her, and would do anything for Girl. Well, that, and it had been a lot of fun, of course, for everybody involved.

Not long after that, Girl had set up a webcam so Yoko could watch some of the fun taking place in the bedroom, the room right next to where Girl was typing. Right away, Yoko had to admit: Spike was hot, and he was a great lover, and if it came down to it, she wouldn't mind letting him get her pregnant, at least as long as she was the one who made the decision for it to happen. Girl admitted she could respect that, and mentioned how morphs frequently made arrangements like that, having breeding parties, where of-age morphs had orgies with the older, more experienced morphs they knew to show them how things were done. Reading this on the screen soon had the beginnings of a plan started in Yoko's mind, and not long after she offered to help Girl in her plan to acquire as many human bitches for breeding as possible.

All that Yoko needed was two videos, which Girl obligingly uploaded straight to Yoko's computer, and the Japanese-American girl soon swung into action. This was just as well, since Girl soon had to break off her own connection, including the video feed to the bedroom, as Spike called her in to join him with Benny and Rachael (Bird having gone home for a proper night's sleep, her mother being rather strict about curfews for her daughters). A few opened folders later, and Yoko found herself chatting with a good score of her friends. Of course, most of these were just online friends, people she'd never met in real life, many of whom she probably never would. One nice thing about the reduction of men in the world was that the internet had become a lot safer to navigate, with fewer viruses, and way fewer trolls. Because of this, Yoko found it rather easy to open up to these friends, and slowly, carefully, draw the ones she knew in real life into a private chat room, which she made sure to close off as invitation-only.

When Yoko finally turned her full attention to this separate, private room, her breathing came quickly, her face lightly flushed at the youthful eagerness she was picking up from the other girls in the room as they chatted a little, waiting for her, their curiosities piqued. When she'd been carefully gathering these friends, Yoko had dropped little hints of something big, something really and truly intense. These were all friends that Yoko had done roleplaying with, even erotic roleplaying at times, and she felt she knew them pretty well, both in real life and at the keys. She typed out a little preamble, just enough to whet their appetites to a fever pitch, and then, swallowing nervously, Yoko shared the first video, giving the girls in the room time for it to download and to make sure they weren't going to be interrupted by anything or, worse yet, anyone. This was something Yoko stressed several times, to make sure they understood the seriousness of what they were about to see.

Of course, Yoko didn't know what the first video was, having never seen it before Girl shared it. She just hoped, as she clicked on the video herself, that it was exactly what she needed, trusting to Girl's experience in such matters.

As the video started before Yoko's eyes, she quickly realized that it was exactly what she'd hoped for, and more. It began innocently enough, with a door opening, letting a few young morph girls, about the age of the human girls watching, into an apartment. It was a bigger apartment, but obviously one of the places that had been left behind as the human population spread away from the main city centers, leaving lots of space for morphs to move in. It was a nice place, but though it was well-kept, the furnishings were fairly sparse, and of lower quality than what humans could usually afford. The four morphgirls, two canomorphs, a white-tailed cervimorph, and an orange-furred felimorph, soon began to mingle into a rather larger party of adult male morphs, with a few females, maybe a dozen of them in total milling around, chatting, sipping soda and orange juice, and obviously just enjoying themselves and relaxing.

At this point, Yoko noticed one of her friends, a more impatient girl named Ginger Goldstein, who Yoko, as much as she liked the girl, had to admit was pretty spoiled, started to complain that the video wasn't that interesting after all. Thankfully, Yoko knew how to calm her friend down, and, as it turned out, she only had to stall Ginger for a few moments before things did indeed start to heat up on the video.

It all began when a sleekly-muscled stallion wearing jeans as black as his fur and a tight white t-shirt that clung to his flawless musculature gently rested one large hand on the rump of the teenaged whitetail fawn as she bent over to get another drink from the refreshment table. As he gave her a slow squeeze through her cutoff jeans shorts, she whimpered softly, the sound drawing the attention of every morph in the room, before her tail flipped up. She didn't move as the powerfully-built stallion unbuttoned the flap just above her tail, and then the one in the front of her too-tight shorts, and slowly slid them down her slender legs, kneeling as he did so. As it turned out, the deermorph wasn't wearing a stitch beneath her clothes, and all she could do, as the big stallion's hands stroked and groped her perfect, petite bottom, was bend over the table, watching him with wide, nervous, but very eager eyes over her shoulder. For several minutes, the camera focused in closer, and closer still, as the black stallion's astonishingly agile muzzle closed over the little doe's cunny, every movement clearly visible to the human girls watching from the safety of their homes, every moan and whimper and loud, messy slurp clearly audible. And then the camera started to pull out, revealing that the stallion was unbuckling his belt, then opening up his pants, letting out a long, silk-smooth black cock of such prodigious size, Yoko couldn't restrain a gasp, which she translated into her typing, as did several of her friends.

The camera had just panned out enough to show the face of the young doe as she cried out, the stallion's lips latching greedily onto her clitoris, her legs spreading wide apart, her white-furred cheeks and inner ears heavily flushed, his big hands stroking down her back with its fawnspots, to her cute little tushie, which she thrust out towards him, eager for more oral attention, as much as he cared to give. Then someone nearby said in a husky voice that Montenegro (apparently the name of the black stallion) might need this, before a smooth metal cylinder that Yoko found so familiar was thrust into his hand by one of the surrounding adult morphs. Yoko was just explaining to her friends what a maidenblade was, with a Wikipedia link to help explain it better, when Montenegro carefully slid the maidenblade into place, there was a soft click and hiss as it deployed, and the young deer gave a soft gasp at the sensation, her slender legs trembling, before Montenegro rose behind her, and pressed the swollen head of his prodigious penis against her perfect, white-furred little cunny lips, and slowly, carefully began to press forward.

In her eagerness to learn more about her favorite subject, Yoko had seen videos of many different species mating, horses among them. The scene she saw before her, though, wasn't much like those videos of animals, for, instead of a single, brutal thrust followed by several seconds of impassioned pounding, followed by a prodigious output, Montenegro was slow, gentle, carefully easing himself forward a little, making the doe tense up, then pulling back slightly, letting her relax again. Gentle, furry hands reached out, and soon Montenegro was able to raise his arms, letting a tall whitetail stag pull his t-shirt off, while a small and skinny vixen with a cute butt, clearly visible through her tight brown shorts (the uniform of a delivery service, Yoko noted absently) and a rather busty whitetail doe (who the girls realized with an erotic shock must be the teenaged fawn's mother) peeled off his jeans. The table was cleared, and the camera zoomed out still more, panning around the room while Montenegro was still taking his time squeezing himself slowly into the wriggling little doe, even as every morph in the room began to divest themselves of their clothing.

All typing in the chat room ceased as the human teens watched the four morph teens each gasp or moan as the maidenblade was used on them in turn, before they were gently pulled into the erotic melee. The little kittymorph lay back on a couch, mewing adorably as a very large tigermorph and a somewhat less large but no less sexy male felimorph shared space eating her out, kneeling between her legs to better enjoy her juicy pink parts. Nearby, the tiny beaglemorph girl whimpered as three wolves and a thick-bodied Rottweiler spread her out on her back on the soft carpet, their tongues lapping over every inch of her exposed body. Just a short distance away, the huskymorph teen was on all-fours, her curly tail hiked over her back, baring her white-furred rump to a sexy German Shepherd male who'd been wearing a police uniform earlier, and who wasted no time in digging his nose into her wet little cunny, while the eager huskygirl happily burrowed her own muzzle into the juicy cunny of the vixen who'd helped strip down Montenegro.

The rest of the orgy turned into a sexual haze for Yoko as she brought herself to two very satisfying orgasms while watching, having stripped out of her pajama bottoms to better pleasure herself, her smooth butt wriggling on her chair in her eagerness. She recalled the beaglegirl getting four cocks stuffed in her at once, the rottie and the biggest wolf squeezing into her cunny at the same time, while the other two wolves stuffed her tailhole and muzzle as she squirmed and wriggled in their strong grips. Then there was the scene with the two does, mother and daughter, going down on each other as they lay, daughter on top of mother in a sixty-nine, as Montenegro took a turn pumping his cock into the older doe's cunny, while the younger doe had the buck filling her cunny up with his spunk, followed soon after by a handsome zebramorph, and then a truly prodigious Clydesdale morph who was even more gentle than Montenegro, even though his penis was slightly smaller (though the rest of him was bigger). Not far off, the teenaged kitten continued to make the most adorable mewing noises as they were muffled around the tigermorph's cock in her mouth, and then that of the other male cat, alternating between the two with her little muzzle as they sat side-by-side on the couch. Meanwhile, behind her, as she stuck out her cute little butt, a very handsome (for he had the sort of good looks that defied lines of species) skunkmorph male knelt behind her, slowly working his thick black cock in and out of her teeny catcunny, obviously savoring each sensation. Finally, Yoko would clearly remember the scene where the skinny vixen straddled the huskygirl's hips, gripping the younger femme's plush little buns in her black-furred hands, spreading her open nice and wide as the Shepherd slowly squeezed his nice-sized length into the wriggling teenpup, her expression so very happy as she eagerly thrust back into his own thrusts.

As the video ended, the morphs on the screen scattered around the room in various states of erotic mess and sleepy bliss as they rested up for the next round, the girls were all silent, idling in the chat room as they took it all in, processing what they'd seen. Naturally, Yoko thought, it was Ginger who broke the silence.

"What does all this have to do with us?" she asked.

This, of course, was the moment Yoko had been waiting for. Now that she had her friends' attentions, she knew they were well and properly hooked. To continue the fishing metaphor, all she had to do now was reel them in, and it was only a matter of time before Girl would have a whole brace of plump-bellied, pregnant human bitches, including Yoko herself. The thought made it a little hard for Yoko to type, having to use only one hand, but she persevered regardless.

"It's just a really hot scene," she typed with a smile. "Something that I wish I could be a part of."

"Fat chance," scoffed Betty Bentner, the chattiest one of the group. "There's just not enough guys to go around for anything like that. And even if there were, there's no way we'd be able to set something like that up."

"Funny you should mention that..." Yoko typed, and then shared the second video stream.

Curious as to what Girl had done with it, Yoko opened up the video herself with anticipation. It was a merging of scenes, first the scene of Bird and Benny with Spike, and then the near-orgy of the previous evening (for Yoko noted it was now the very early morning hours). Girl had very cunningly worked the humans, and also Benny, over with a light digital touch, obscuring a few essential details without spoiling the overall effect of the film. It was just enough to ensure that nobody would recognize any of the females involved in the film, though Spike was clearly visible, as was Yoko in the background with her camera.

The chat room was silent for several long minutes. Then it suddenly exploded into activity.

"I can't believe she let him get her..."

"That's illegal, though. That's what I heard, anyway..."

"Mom said she knew a girl in her high school who got pregnant by a morph..."

"That is so awesome. I've never seen porn as intense as..."

"He's got a really cute butt. Do you think he'd..."

"How's he fitting it all inside of her? She must be hollow..."

Not even bothering to conceal her smug smile, Yoko knew she had them all. Oh, she'd have to work a few of them over a little more in real life, but she could clearly visualize every one of these girls with a nice, juicy cunny, just aching for its first taste of morphcock. She knew she was certainly ready. Slowly, steadily, with an effort of will and patience Yoko didn't know she had, she gradually answered every question, quieted every concern. By leaving her visible in the video, Yoko marveled, Girl had given Yoko a position of authority and experience over her friends. She had been there, and that meant that she knew, while the others could only speculate.

As the light of dawn peeked through Yoko's blinds, the bed behind her cold and unused, Yoko yawned, sliding her pajama bottoms back on as she rose and walked toward the bed. She was lucky it was Sunday and she could spend the entire day sleeping. It would be tough on her schedule tomorrow, of course, but she'd handle it. After all, she'd done it before. Still, she could rest deep and well, knowing that she'd committed each of her friends to joining her in offering up their much-denigrated virginities, and even their healthy young wombs, to the ready cocks of morphmales, who they were all quite convinced would serve just as well, if not better, than the human males that they knew they'd have little opportunity to meet. Now all that remained was to set things up for a cherry-popping party with Girl, and everything would be...

Without having quite touched the sheets, Yoko turned her head, blinking in surprise at the muffled sound of her cell phone going off. She'd stuffed it into her backpack, along with the small camera she'd used to record everything that had taken place at Spike's the day before, and it was a simple matter to tug it out.

"Hey Yoko," came the unbearably perky voice of Bird, who certainly didn't sound like someone who'd spent much of yesterday engaged in debauchery. "Me and some of the girls were going to head over to Spike's for a little workout. Did you wanna come?"

Pulling the phone back, Yoko stared into it as though she could convey the expression through the connection.

"You're crazy," she said finally. "I'm going to bed. Have fun doing whatever it is crazy people do early on a Sunday morning."

"'kay," said Bird, her cheery mood not even slightly dampened. "See you tomorrow in school, Yoko."

Shaking her head as she set down the phone, Yoko finally yanked the covers back, and slid into the chilly sheets, her body heat soon warming them up. Minutes later, the teen was asleep.

*

Cold was how he left the bed. Cold and without feeling for the whimpering pup who lay there, curled up in a fetal position, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as the young male tried to will the pain away. Senator Hedgeway was far too busy straightening his tie, smoothing out his suit, patting on those last dabs of makeup for the cameras, and generally perfecting his image in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom to care much about the insignificant discomfort of a teenaged corgimorph. What was that in comparison to the fate of the nation? A fate that only someone like Hedgeway could possibly decide, for only he had a full understanding, a true vision of what the future should be.

It was only natural, of course, for a man in Hedgeway's position to have needs that had to be met if he was to perform his duties properly. As one of the most influential senators in Congress, certainly the most influential from his state, and a man widely hailed as a likely candidate for president in the next election year, it was important that Hedgeway satisfy his needs so that they didn't interfere with his ability to think throughout the day, his ability to make the right choices for a nation that sorely needed good, strong, capable leadership. He was certain that God understood such things, so long as Hedgeway was out working for the greater good of all God's children in the nation He had chosen above all others to lead the way. Now that he'd properly relaxed, both last night and that morning, his needs properly attended to, Hedgeway was ready to face everything that might come at him - the press, interest groups, other politicians - with his usual calm, unflappable, cool demeanor.

"Clean yourself up and get back to the kennels," he ordered over his shoulder, without bothering to turn around. So saying, the tall, broad-shouldered man with the steel-grey hair strode confidently from the room, leaving the cruelly raped morphpup to pull himself together. Heaven help the poor boy if the bed wasn't made when Hedgeway returned that night.

Of course, the reason the good senator had to be so cold and collected was so that he could focus his full attention on what was perhaps one of the biggest hotbutton issues of the day: the Morph Question. Well, questions, plural, but of course the media had to make things as simple as possible for their viewers, which was completely understandable. After all, Hedgeway full well knew how incapable the public at large was of understanding even the most basic of concepts without having them carefully broken down and simplified. It was for this reason that people like Hedgeway were so badly needed. After all, without people like him, firm and strong and full of decisive, proper action, then the country would quickly fall to the forces of entropy that had already claimed so many other nations in these turbulent times.

The Morph Question was, on its head, a simple one: should morphs be given citizenship and the right to vote? As might be expected from such a simple question, however, there were a great many layers of additional questions to it that simply could not be overlooked, as Hedgeway well knew. Many questions were frequently tossed around, and the good senator had to handle them one by one as the issue grew steadily hotter: were morphs people? Could they make decisions like adult humans? Did morphs have souls? Were morphs animals? If so, should their populations be controlled?

For Hedgeway, of course, the answers were easy enough. The problem came in couching those answers in rhetoric that the voting public would find palatable. After all, nobody liked the thought of euthanizing puppies, as a metaphoric example Hedgeway had used a time or two for gatherings of wealthy backers, even if those puppies were the offspring of stray dogs, and were infested with all manner of diseases that they transmitted to humans. So a gentler tack had to be taken when dealing with the voting public at large, though it all boiled down, for those who were paying attention, to the answers that Hedgeway held dear to his heart: no, morphs should not vote. This was because they were not people, but rather a sort of biological android, not even really an animal (and of course, animals didn't have souls, so why should a morph, which wasn't even that?), but something quite different, entirely set apart from both humans and animals. They were made for a certain purpose, a purpose that had long since been fulfilled, but because of the soft-heartedness (and, Hedgeway would privately declare, soft-headedness) of a few vocal individuals, they had been allowed to continue, like stray animals, without guidance or control, now that they were no longer used by the military for their original intended purpose. Morphs, in Hedgeway's view, were a tool and nothing more, so long as they were kept under strict controls. Allowed to roam freely and do as they pleased, morphs were as dangerous as allowing any biological weapon free reign in the public domain, and the consequences would be disastrous.

Removed from the pathos of the masses, Hedgeway and others like him would, of course, had long ago made the right decisions regarding morphs, just as they made the right decisions in everything, despite what the biased and sensation-seeking media might report. In truth, Hedgeway would have been ready to run for president in the last election, and the final solution to the Morph Question would have been a thing of the past, if it weren't for a rather significant setback that had interrupted the natural, proper, God-mandated flow of events. That setback, of course, was Diane Lords and her bitch of a daughter, Amber.

The pair, mother and daughter, had set up their camps on either side of the country. Much to Hedgeway's unending displeasure, Amber Lords happened to have set up shop on the East Coast, and had quickly run for and won the governorship of his state, a position she had held for several years now, the ignorant masses ascribing the improvement to the economy and social services of their state to Amber Lords' skillful management, helped in no small part by her even greater skill in handling the press, always appearing at her best. Diane Lords, meanwhile, had her fingers in every pie on the West Coast, and also internationally. Truth be told, the filthy bitch mother was a celebrity just about everywhere she went, her presence dominating every camera, her poise and winning personality capturing the hearts of everyone who knew her. Hedgeway considered it especially fortunate that only the younger Lords bitch was directly involved in politics. The older one could have become queen dictator for life of the world with the charisma she exuded. If that happened, of course, Hedgeway saw the Apocalypse befalling all nations as her slatternly ways infected everything she touched.

Of course Diane and Amber Lords were both sluts. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Amber had a child, now in her mid-teens, who looked like a full-blooded human, but Amber had never been married nor, as far as Hedgeway's informants could determine, ever had any relations with her fellow humans as God had intended. At the same time, she had a constant companion, a Doberman morph by the name of Ambrose, who she had been seen kissing in public like the whore she was. Others, too innocent to make much of such things, might have missed the signs, or might not have cared when footage of Ambrose deftly disarming an assassin, one of several that he'd overpowered before they could get anywhere near his mistress, leaked to the news, making people think he was some sort of hero, but Hedgeway knew them immediately, knew a morph lover the instant he saw one. Knew her for what she was, and hated her bitterly, like he hated all morphs and everyone and everything tainted by their vile Satanic presence. And if the daughter was so infected, then the mother must be even more so, for where else would the daughter have learned her vile habits? Diane Lords also had never remarried after the death of her husband, the one that had willed her the Lords Chocolates and Confections empire, but she was known for a great many affairs with some of the most famous and influential people of her day, something that the media treated with a sense of lighthearted amusement, to say nothing of her near-constant association with morphs.

The Lords women were the ones who had put a stop to the killblocks, where Hedgeway and others like him had quietly consigned all those morphs who were unfit for use in society, and which would surely have made Hedgeway's presidential bid certain, showing him to be a man of action, capable of making hard decisions for the good of all. But because of Diane Lords' interference, the killblocks had been a complete failure, and their closure had set back Hedgeway's bid for power back by years because of the taint caused to anyone connected with them after the Lords' spin machine had painted the killblocks and everyone associated with them in such a ridiculously negative light. Less than a handful of morphs, the ones that had proven themselves genuinely psychopathic to even the most impartial of observers, had actually been processed fully in those facilities, the ones who'd been given the responsibility to hasten the final solution to the Morph Question balking in the face of what appeared to be, to their foolish, unthinking eyes, to be an act of wanton injustice. Couldn't they see!? Couldn't they understand?! Didn't anyone care about the fate of the nation!?! Obviously not, because sluts and harlots like Amber Lords were able to hold public office and quietly relax the laws that classified morphs as something akin to animals, allowing them rights, and even allowing those laws that declared relations between morphs and humans to be bestiality to lapse without challenge or renewal. She put morphs almost on the same level as humans! Amber Lords hadn't stopped there, though, oh no. She had even put in her bid for the presidency, endangering Hedgeway's own efforts, and though neither of their campaigns were yet fully public, the battle in the shadows of the political sphere were already well underway.

As Hedgeway walked to his limousine, not deigning to even noticing the stately morph who opened the door for him, or the other morph in equally stately dress who acted as his chauffeur, he seethed inside, fury at being thwarted making his face convulse in a hideous paroxysm. By the time he had reached his destination, however, one of the many speaking assignments he would undertake that day, Hedgeway's face and manner were calm again, cold reason and perfect order reigning over his thoughts.

He would save the nation, in that Hedgeway was determined. Even if he had to destroy it in the process.

*

I was having the best sort of dream. In it, I was surrounded by sexy young females, except that I had the strongest impression that they weren't objects for my affections. Actually, they all looked familiar...like Girl, it came to me in a flash. Attractive, athletic, smart, you could tell it all by just looking at them for a few minutes, my nose instantly picking out all the details my eyes missed. They were perfect, and they were mine.

It was dream knowledge, that realization that they were my kids, mine and Girl's. We'd made them together. The feeling that came with that knowledge was almost overwhelming in its intensity, a feeling even greater than eroticism, even greater than lust or the instinctual, animal need to mate. I reached out in the dream and caught hold of one of the younglings, pulling her to me, kissing her with slow, tender affection. Except, her lips were so real. In fact, they didn't feel like the lips of a muzzle at all. I pulled back slightly, blinking in surprise, and watched as the face of my child turned into the cute, redheaded face of Rachael McMichaels.

In my sleep, I'd lifted myself up a little, and had been kissing Rachael's forehead, not her lips. Funny how the mind does stuff like that when you're out. With wakefulness came remembrance of what had led up to that point, and why I was feeling so very warm right then, surrounded by soft female bodies. After Bird had finished with her shower, to clear up the evidence of our earlier fun, and gone home, Rachael had admitted to me, after she and Benny had come back to consciousness, that her mother wouldn't be home until late Monday night, and asked if it'd be all right if she hung out at my place that night. How could I say no?

While Girl was messing around with some stuff in her computer room - probably editing up the finished copy of everything that had happened that day - I easily hefted the skinny little redhead over my shoulder, making her squeal cutely as I gripped her tight little butt with my paw, and started to carry her off. I paused long enough to put Benny on a leash, asking Rachael if she thought her dogservant had been a good girl. Rachael definitely thought so, so I led the colliemorph along behind on all-fours across the dirt path to my living quarters, and through the bead curtain into the bedroom.

The moment I'd plunked Rachael's tiny tuckus down on the bed, Benny was all over her mistress, kissing and licking and sucking on little muzzlefuls of tasty pink skin. It wasn't like I could blame Benny in the least: Rachael was pretty sexy for a skinny, carrot-topped teen, and I could only imagine what sort of tension must have been building up in the morphgirl ever since the death of Mr. McMichaels, tension that could only really be relieved by the forbidden love of a human. Now the floodgates were open, and Benny was not only allowed but encouraged to do what she'd been needing desperately for the longest time. Rachael's legs were splayed out on either side of her dogservant's hips, kicking a little in her pleasure as Benny lapped and sucked on the human girl's perky little nipples, biting down ever so slightly, just enough to make her mistress cry out, her hands grabbing the sheets of the bed as she tumbled onto her back.

With a hot colliebutt thrust out toward me, tail flagged in open invitation, snug cunny so wet and leaky that Benny's fur on her inner thighs was soaked through, sticking to her shapely legs, I didn't even bother holding back; I just grabbed her tail in one paw and my cock in the other, slotting myself into place before I let my cock go and grabbed her hip instead. Both collie and human cried out loudly as I plowed into Benny's pussy, not bothering to take it slow, to draw things out. Benny was a willing and eager bitch in heat, and all she wanted was to be used hard and fast and rough, stuffed full of cock, given a generous helping of cream filling, and then allowed to rest up for her next helping of savage breeding sex. And I was savage! My thrusting hips made Benny's butt bounce visibly beneath her fur, and it was all she could do to muffle her joyous cries of passion by eagerly kissing her young mistress. This, in turn, was all that muffled Rachael's answering cry of rising passion as Benny's body squeezed tightly against the human girl's, angling herself downward slightly so that Rachael's clitty was squeezed against Benny's, and Rachael could feel my hot cock rasping against her wet pink flesh with every one of my thrusts in and out, which I angled downward as well to oblige Benny's plan for sharing with her mistress.

It was hard work for me, holding in my orgasm when I was going at that pace. If Benny hadn't been so close to the edge herself, I couldn't have outlasted her. As it was, I barked loudly as I was jerked right over the edge, thick ropes of cum spraying over Benny's toned rump as I popped my cock free, and then jetting onto Rachael's splayed cunny when I tilted the tip down a little, making the redheaded human hottie cry out with the splash of impact, her toes arching at the shock of sensation, breaking her kiss with her faithful bitch. Her whole body seemed to be jerking and spasming and so very alive with the raw power of everything she was feeling, and I didn't give her a chance to cool down at all, exulting in the loud squeal of mind-shattering orgasm when I plowed my perfectly-angled cock right into that redhead's gushing pussy. It was all Benny could do to hold her mistress down as I started to hump Rachael with brutal intensity, her whole body shaking and thrashing as though I'd stuck a live wire in her quim, a loud, high-pitched "Oh!" sound forced from her mouth every time my balls slapped her sweet pink buns, my hips splaying her skinny legs nice and wide, small feet kicking against the sheets in her state of ultimate ecstasy. Her cute hands grabbed at the sheets of the bed, tangling them badly as she gyrated her hips in desperation, her squeals turning even more high-pitched when Benny suddenly latched onto the squirming teen's nipples with her eager muzzle, gnawing on them almost brutally.

My gaze fixed on the human girl's cute o-face, mouth open as she desperately panted for breath, her whole face so very flushed, hands suddenly going to Benny's soft-furred back, gripping the fur their like a life preserver, and when our eyes met, I didn't hold back my lusty, sharp-toothed grin. This gave her only a moment to realize what was happening before I pressed my muzzle to her lips, kissing her like a savage, silencing her squeals with my tongue, which I thrust deep into her mouth, curling it around her own much smaller human tongue, every stroke and caress of my oral flesh against hers quickly making the over-sensitized teen start to hyperventilate. She didn't get a break, though, not from me, as I took this opportunity to press my body down, mashing Benny's breasts against Rachael's much smaller ones, thrusting my cock in deep until I was almost knocking on the gates of Rachael's cervix. That was when I started to grind against her, my hips soon getting soaked in Rachael's juices, while my trimmed-short bellyfur was soon stuck to my abs as my stomach ground and rasped against Benny's quim at the same time.

Suddenly, it was too much for Benny, who wrapped her arms around her mistress as tightly as her mistress was hugging her, her whole body trembling. Resting the chin of her muzzle on Rachael's shoulder, the colliemorph slowly, tiredly licked the sensitive side of the redhead's neck.

"We'll have our babies together, mistress," she whispered lovingly in Rachael's ear.

That was all it took for me. For Rachael too, for that matter. Breaking our kiss, I started to hunch over Rachael in radidfire, machinegun thrusts, not far different from the humping motions of a four-legged dog determined to plant his seed nice and deep in a fertile bitch. Rachael's scream was sweet music as I felt her body clamp down on my cock, even as the rest of her body went utterly limp. She'd simply lost control of herself, and couldn't even move more than the fluttering involuntary muscles that lined her cunny walls, eager to milk my seed and take it to her fertile, ready womb. Another bark ripped out of my mouth, just as my balls tensed, and my cock started to squirt. I held myself inside Rachael while I filled her up, pressing my legs together and keeping my butt tight to make sure to shoot my cum with lots of force. It seemed to work, because when Rachael felt my cum splashing against her cervix, she gave a final, powerful arch of her body, lifting Benny right up with the force of her passion, before she collapsed to the bed one last time, lying there, her young breasts rising and falling rapidly with her afterglow, an afterglow that I prolonged for as long as possible, punctuating it with several smaller jolts of pleasure as I continued to work my hips in short, gyrating thrusts, milking out every last drop of semen I had to give.

For a long while after that, I just lay there, resting my weight on Benny's soft-furred back, letting Rachael lie underneath us, my hands stroking first the collie on top then the human underneath with all the gentle care I knew how to provide, working my fingers gently into their taxed muscles. Somewhere during all this, I shuddered lightly as my cock finally softened enough to pop free of Rachael's very red and very well-used cunny and retreat back into its sheathe, letting a sizable gush of my cum leak out of her at last as her body shuddered with the aftershocks of her multiple orgasms.

"Hmm," I mused, rolling myself over on the bed and grinning down at the cute cuddling couple. "Benny, your mistress is making a mess on my bed; you'd better clean it up."

Rachael didn't even seem to hear me giving commands to her dogservant, but Benny's ears perked up immediately. She was a good dog, actually, and really was as eager to please as you could ask for. But Benny also had needs, like any healthy woman, like any healthy femmemorph. Now that she was receiving the relief that she'd been needing for so long, her natural tendencies quickly returned, and she was ready and eager to obey the least command.

"Yes, master," the colliemorph said softly, so as not to disturb her mistress' post-orgasmic daze, and carefully lifted herself a little, sliding down Rachael's body as the teen lay sprawled and splayed out on the bed, too worn out from her thorough working-over to even move.

Thrusting her long, slender muzzle down between her mistress' legs, Benny snuffled around, then nuzzled Rachael's slick and still-spread labia even as they continued to slowly ooze my thick white cream. Apparently Benny liked the taste of cream, because she quickly lapped up the puddle of my cum that'd been pooling around Rachael's slim pubescent buttocks, and then started to gently lick her way through Rachael's perineum and up to her ginger-dusted and very flushed and wet cunny. Using only the greatest of care, Benny then gently dipped her tongue into her mistress' splayed lower lips, carefully slipping the long pink organ inside, all the better to lick up any cum that hadn't gone into Rachael's womb, and which would cause more mess otherwise when it leaked out later. All this attention made Rachael give a cute whine, her hands going down to weakly rest on Benny's head.

"Too...too sensitive," she got out weakly, and Benny looked back at me to see what I'd tell her to do next. After all, while Rachael had expressed an opinion, she hadn't really given her dogservant an order, and so Benny was naturally falling back on me for what to do next.

What to do next was something I pondered for a little while. While it would be a lot of fun to hold Rachael down and make her cum some more, going beyond that point of sexual endurance could turn pleasure into pain, no matter how careful either Benny or I was. Looking at Rachael's face, I admired her blissful, post-orgasmic expression, her eyes heavy-lidded, almost asleep, and then looked at Benny's own eager expression, her whole soft-furred body a bit tired from our earlier exertions, but still more than ready to go again. I pondered the question for a few short moments before I grinned toothily once more, then glanced over my shoulder at the curtain separating the bedroom from Girl's computer and surveillance room.

"Girl, get your hot buns in here," I called out. "And bring a strap-on. As for you," I fixed Benny with a lusty stare, "roll your mistress over: I'm gonna have Girl stick her strap-on in her sweet pink butt."

Even as tired and worn-out as she was, this revelation made Rachael's eyes and mouth open, and she looked at me. There was some nervousness about her eyes, but a lot of excitement too. She didn't resist or protest as Benny turned herself around to rest her russet-furred rump on her mistress' small-breasted chest, then reached forward to take hold of Rachael's legs. Slipping her upper arms right underneath the backs of Rachael's kneecaps, all Benny had to do was lean down with her weight to push Rachael's legs up against the teen's sides. My eyebrows raised a little when I saw how flexible the little redheaded hottie was, her knees almost touching the mattress on either side of her, before my gaze drifted downward, toward where Benny was stroking her hands over her mistress' smooth, skinny bottom, spreading the cheeks carefully apart. Dimly, in the background, my back to the computer room curtain, I could hear Girl's mouse clicking frantically, and then the soft hissing whine of the computer powering down; we only had a few minutes while Girl got ready, and I knew she'd heard me say the last part of my plans to Benny.

"Let's get your mistress ready for this," I said to Benny as I stroked my hands along the soft skin that she'd just been stroking, my muzzle thrusting up into the splayed cleft of Rachael's perineal area, starting low, beneath her tightly-clenched rosette. Benny joined me, starting just above Rachael's anus, and we soon started to lick and nibble our way towards that tight, tempting target. In a matter of seconds, Rachael had gone from a state of near-total collapse to sudden erotic tension, her whole body jerking a little under the combined attentions of my and Benny's tongues. If we hadn't both been holding onto her, Benny's weight resting on top of the skinny redhead while my hands rested heavily on her inner thighs, she would've probably arched upward like a fish jumping a waterfall when we combined out attention on her tense hole. As it was, Rachael gave a long, high-pitched moan as we circled the clenching sphincter, our tongues writhing against each other even as we both slowly pried our tonguetips into her tight, hot body, Rachael's legs kicking against Benny's arms, the teen not strong enough to push her dogservant off this time.

It was just when I was figuring Rachael's tush was about slick enough that I felt as well as heard a hard slap to my own rump. While I'd been prepping Rachael's butt, I'd been on all-fours, head down, tuckus stuck in the air, pointed toward the curtain separating the bedroom from Girl's computer room. Girl hadn't been able to resist the target, and I couldn't say that I blamed her: in the same situation, I'd have been at least as tempted, and probably more.

"You want this in her, or you?" Girl asked teasingly as she climbed up onto the bed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder with a wry smirk, and then arched an eyebrow at the thick, blunt, studded length of flexible, rubbery plastic she was sporting from her strap-on. It was a vibrating dildo, and had a little extension made for stimulating the clitoris while it was inside a femme's hot holes, the extension able to be adjusted to reach the lovebutton from almost any position of penetration, including the one Rachael was in presently. Not that it would be needed much, not with Benny and me right there.

"Her for now," I said, crawling out of the way, giving Girl a teasing wink. "Me...maybe later." Then I looked into Benny's eyes. "Lift your butt up a bit, Benny: I want Rach here to watch it go in."

Moving to the side, out of the way, I licked my chops eagerly as I watched Girl crawl forward, jellycock bobbing, already glistening with some lube she'd slathered onto it before she'd even come out. Rachael was watching too, and from my vantage point to the side, I kept shifting my attention between where the thick, slick blunt tool was getting steadily closer to Rachael's vulnerable, undefended little nub, and Rachael's wide-eyed expression and high-pitched whimper of anticipation, her body starting to wriggle a little, but held mostly in place by Benny's weight and greater strength. The human girl's whole body tensed up when Girl's strap-on nudged against her tushie, and whimpered a little louder as the humanlike head spread her tightly-clenched sphincter apart just a little, before her eyes turned to me expectantly, her expression pleading. Girl and Benny had also turned to look at me, Girl's expression as lusty as any randy male's, and Benny's full of expectation, but also concern for her mistress. They were all waiting for me to make my decision, to settle on Rachael's fate. All three pairs of eyes followed my hand as I held it up, balled into a fist, the tension so heavy in the room right then that I could have bit into it. Then I made my choice, extending my thumb, and jabbing it in the direction that would decide Rachael's fate.

Thumbs down.

Giving a short, high-pitched cry as I reached out and cupped the back of her head in my big hands, scooting myself behind her as I did so, Rachael's eyes fixed first on Girl's eager, toothy grin, making her cute spaniel face as close to sinister and wicked as it possibly could be, and then down to where Girl's hips were slowly pushing forward, spreading the tight little teen open by inches and half-inches.

"Ooooooh!" moaned Rachael as she feebly kicked her legs against Benny's grip, Girl's strap-on bending slightly from the tension as the human teen's anus visibly clenched down, making Girl have to start moving her hips in short, careful thrusts, putting force into them while still holding herself back, trying not to hurt the girl. "Oh! Oh! Oh! OOOOOOHHHH!" Rachael first continued to moan as Girl's increasing pressure squeezed the dildo forward, until, as Rachael's moans turned to wails, I could almost hear the 'pop' as the thick head of the dildo pushed past Rachael's ring. "AAAAHHHHHmmpph!"

It was just as Rachael's voice had gotten to its loudest that I pulled her head back, and easily popped my raging erection into her mouth. I caught a glimpse of her expression, confused and dazed and so turned-on she could hardly think, before I pushed my hips forward, plugging her mouth right up to her throat, stopping just short of gagging the redheaded hottie.

"You belong to me now, Rach," I told her, stroking the girl's throat and then her upthrust, smallish breasts with my hands and fingertips. "Just like Benny is yours, now you are mine. Now start sucking: if you do a good job, that'll let me know you accept your place, that you want to serve me. And know that if you do," and then my fingers were squeezing down on and rolling her stiff, perky nipples, making Rachael whimper around her mouthful of cock, a whimper that became a bit louder as Girl's hips slapped against the girl's smooth inner thighs, "you'll love it."

Almost immediately, Rachael started to bob her head as fast and hard as she could in her present, somewhat awkward position. I felt my balls bump her nose, just as I felt her throat clench down on me; she was so eager to please me, she was gagging herself to do it, and soon was forced to pull back a little, coughing around her mouthful of cock. I didn't have to do anything except hold my hips angled downward, letting my new, eager and all-too-willing little serving girl do all the work, and occasionally murmur soft words of advice and encouragement to guide her away from doing things wrong, and help her to do everything so very, very right. I was lucky Rachael was so smart, because it meant she picked up on things really fast, and it wasn't long before I was leaking precum pretty heavily, her throat convulsing to swallow it all. Not wanting Benny to feel left out, I slid a few fingers into her sopping wet cunny and started to pump, loving the cute sounds the wriggling, whimpering colliegirl made as she pushed back against my hand, arching her soft-furred body against her mistress' smooth skin. As much as I loved listening to Benny's doggy noises, though, that muzzle had to be kept busy, and so I gripped the back of her head with my other hand, and pushed her muzzle down to Rachael's cunny, thinking that the hot teen would be ready for some more working over now, after she'd been properly worked up again. All the while, Girl was picking up the pace of her thrusts, until before too long the room was filled with the loud, wet slapping of her hips against the heart-shaped curve of Rachael's tight, milk-smooth buns and the equally loud and very greedy slurping of Benny on Rachael's ginger-fuzzed cunny, and Rachael's even more greedy guzzling of my solid shaft, her hands reaching up to grab my butt, pulling me in as she fought past her gag reflex, determined to take all of me.

"Guess, rrr, this means that you're, ngh, my slave now, Rach," I got out with difficulty. "Means...you're gonna spend all your time here, whenever you can." My body shuddered as I felt my climax coming on, my belly and butt tensing up to hold it off as long as I possibly could. "After all, I gotta make sure my sperm takes. Benny'll be under you, and you're under Girl, and you're all under me," I forced out with a vicious snarl, making Benny yelp, her back arching as I roughly rasped my fingers inside her dripping collie-cunt. This set Benny off, the wet slurping of her muzzle soon making Rachael's whole body start to jerk in time with each lick of Benny's tongue and thrust of Girl's hips, pushing the teen right back up to that point of euphoric pleasure she'd had before we began the second, anal session...and then just a little bit more

Rachael's loud cries of orgasm filled the room as I jerked my hips back, popping my penis free of her lips, before Benny started to howl like a she-wolf when I jabbed my cock into her cunny with a will. As I started to cum, I reached forward, grabbing Girl in my strong arms and pulling her against me, making her bottom out in Rachael's bottom while I kissed her in a proper canomorph tonguelock, feeling her tremble against my body as she also came, even while I was filling Benny up with another more-than-hefty dose of cum.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, Rachael fell back, watching the three canomorphs on top of her cumming with that almost detached air that comes on the tail end of truly earth-shattering pleasure. Her body and mind had been so saturated with pleasure that she literally couldn't take in any more, and she was so tired out from the rough working-over she'd been given, everything was ready to just shut down to rest up for later. Pulling my cock slowly free of Benny's quim, watching her pink inner walls gripping me all the way out, her snowy white undertail matted against her butt and inner thighs from all the juices that had soaked themselves there, I looked down, grinning at the expression on Rachael's face, one I knew pretty well, and only wish I could see more often. I've always thought that femme's look their hottest when they're in that sweet, euphoric daze that comes after a good, extended series of orgasms, with just enough pleasure to take the well-used cutie right to the borders of her endurance, and then just a little bit over that line.

As Girl carefully slid her strap-on out of Rachael, and then slid it out of her and down her legs, I lay down next to the sweat-soaked teen and lifted her gently onto my chest and stomach as I lay on my back. Rachael snuggled up to me, her head resting just under my chin, and she half-sighed, half-moaned as she just let all the tensions of our lovemaking float away, leaving her body thoroughly spent. Girl and Benny slid next to us on the bed, cuddling close, their warm, furry bodies making a perfect, plush blanket all around us, further comforting and relaxing Rachael as she let her eyes flutter closed, consciousness quickly fading.

That, as I saw when I glanced at the clock, had been almost six hours ago, my eyes having glanced over to the clock before I closed them, seeing that it was a little after ten o'clock then, and a little before four o'clock now. As a morphmale, I only really needed about six hours of sleep, give or take, in any night, since our brains were specifically tailored to do without as much sleep as a human. Actually, most nights I only needed four hours sleep, but six was good for when I'd worked my body more thoroughly. Morphfemmes needed about six hours normally, eight after strenuous activity, like what we'd all been through the day and night before. Carefully extracting myself from the three sleeping femmes on my bed, I wandered over to the bathroom for a quick cold shower to clear my head, and then stepped out, still naked, toweling myself off as I walked into the living room, my brain firing a mile a minute with heavy thoughts.

I'd deliberately gotten a human girl pregnant, or at least the chances were pretty heavily skewed toward that, breeding never being an exact science, but rather a matter of probability. Still, Rachael knew she'd been fertile when I came in her, and so did her dogservant, Benny. When the morning came for them, how would she react? In the throes of passion, she'd even agreed to be my packbitch, serving the orders of both me and Girl. What would she think of that once she was able to think clearly, when the light of Sunday morning finally cleared her mind and let her think things through more thoroughly? As for me, I'd meant what I'd said, and if she'd allow it, I'd happily take Rachael on as my own, a human owned by a morph, even as taboo and forbidden as that was. If Rachael accepted it, then maybe Bird would as well. Actually, the possibilities were suddenly endless, or as close to it as my wandering mind could see right then.

Overwhelmed, I realized that I needed to get an outside opinion on all of this. I mean, let's be practical here: I'd just gotten a human pregnant, and there was no possible way to avoid consequences after doing something like that. Even if it wasn't technically illegal anymore, it wasn't exactly something that society was going to accept just 'cause I thought it was a pretty hot idea. Yeah, a calmer, more practical head than my own would help out in this case pretty good right about now.

After a few moments to locate my cell, I dialed the number I knew so well, and let the phone start to ring. I just hoped Dallas didn't mind the early morning wakeup.