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Human Bitches

Chapter Thirteen: The Checkup

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Author’s (very brief) Note: I admit freely, I took a certain amount of inspiration for Nurse Lisa Lemontree from this character: http://www.pixelatedarcade.com/screenshots/11670 - also, if you want to know what Brandy Crews sounds like, well, here’s an idea: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vfOWU8f1-6s

Despite what she’d told Bird, Rachael did not, in fact, skip one of her normal classes to go and see the school doctor. Instead, she waited until her first free period, right before lunch. Which, of course, was one of those comedic ironies, she mused to herself with a wry smirk far in advance of her tender years: concern over not having “free periods” was exactly why she was there! Setting the emotional rush that came with such a thought aside for now, she pushed open the door and replaced the smirk with her more typical shy smile at the receptionist-cum-nurse behind the receptionist’s desk. Thank goodness it was Nurse Sam, and not Lisa Lemontree!

Nurse Sam, as everyone called her, was actually named Samantha Skylark, though she much preferred to be called Sam: it was simple and functional, much like Nurse Sam herself. Her hair a dark chestnut color, almost auburn with its slight ruddy tinge (short in front, long in the back, when it wasn’t tied up beneath her nurse’s cap), Nurse Sam was noted for her easygoing demeanor, her soothing bedside manner…and her near-mythical bust. Some of the meaner girls liked to make unfavorable comparisons between Nurse Sam and a cow, but truthfully she certainly had a cow’s inherently contented composure. To most students, and Principal Washington as well, Nurse Sam’s personality was in all ways desirable for her job, and even the ones inclined to make fun had to admit: she never made fun back, and she never, ever talked about anything that went on behind the frosted glass doors that led into the nurse’s office from the reception area.

That was an odd bit of anachronism, Rachael mused to herself as she silently took the sign-in sheet from off Nurse Sam’s desk and began to fill it out as she seated herself: “nurse’s office.” Truthfully, there were two nurses at the highschool, and neither of them were in charge. Instead, the highschool had Saki Watanabe to tend to its medical needs, and she was a full-fledged M.D. With the sudden plague-induced drop in population, and the equally sudden shift in focus onto the rising generation who were expected to take up the massive slack left behind, not only had schools across the nation – and the world – been consolidated, they’d also gotten the funding for full medical facilities, including the staff needed for emergency services, typically a doctor and two nurses at minimum (a minimum that Rachael’s highschool presently met, though there was constant talk of hiring on more staff) for each grade level; Doctor Watanabe was simply the doctor who handled the highschool section of the large school complex. All the same, even with the new prestige of being a school doctor, tradition still held, and the medical facilities were commonly called “the nurse’s office.”

“Is Nurse Lemontree in?” Rachael asked politely as she finished up the relatively short set of forms she’d been handed, returning them to Nurse Sam over the desk. Here was hoping against hope…

“I’m afraid not,” Nurse Sam answered with a slight lessening of her normal pleasant, neutral smile. “They’re installing the new subliminals down in the middleschool, and needed some additional staff on-hand.”

“They must be really busy,” Rachael commented conversationally, doing her best not to let her immense relief show on her face or in her voice, and Nurse Sam’s smile returned immediately, making it clear that she didn’t mind talking about that subject in the least.

“Oh yes,” she assured the orange-haired girl even as her hands flew over the keyboard of the computer in front of her with astonishing speed for someone who seemed incapable of hurry. “It’s about time they started using those on the younger grades. We’ve just had so much success with the subliminals at the nine-through-twelve level, and I remember my first sessions with them when I was finishing up my residency. It wouldn’t surprise me if they started using them all the way down at the kindergarten level in a few years, after the technology matures fully.”

Subliminals, the latest wave of the future of education. Formerly used solely on morphs, to better make them so they could function at force-grown adult levels right out of the vat, about six or seven years ago they’d started to be first used on humans in clinical trials. Three years ago, they’d seen use by colleges and universities around the world. Last year, they’d debuted in highschool, and now, as Nurse Sam had indicated, they were working their way down through all the grades. They were the reason that Rachael, like most of the girls at the highschool, had several free periods scattered throughout the day.

Ideally, the free periods were supposed to be used as time for study and practice, to learn how to put into proper use all the raw data the subliminal machines crammed into the heads of the students. After all, the subliminal machines could make memorizing stuff ridiculously easy (one of the major time consumptions in all schooling), but figuring out how to actually use what was memorized took hands-on exercise. In practice, there were more students than the limited teaching staff could comfortably handle, thanks to the population crash and the subsequent baby boom following in the wake of whyker, and so most students ended up doing as they pleased during their two or three free periods. The go-getters used the time as they were supposed to, and prospered academically. The rest…well…there was a reason why Rachael, normally such a diligent student, hadn’t even had to explain herself to a hall monitor when she’d left her classroom for the nurse’s office. She’d just walked out, and the Teacher’s Assistant on duty (just some young college grad bumming around in an easy intern position) hadn’t batted an eye as Rachael quietly slipped out past her.

Right on the edge of anarchy, Rachael mused to herself, thinking of the clique-clusters she’d had to dodge on the way over to the nurse’s office. A society in desperate need of someone to establish order. A true alpha male…

“Seems pretty quiet around here,” was what Rachael said, instead of potentially ratting out some of the school bullies around campus, and most certainly earning their ireful attention. Certainly instead of voicing her thoughts about what she’d like Spike to do about the present state of affairs at the highschool…and to whom she wanted to watch him do it.

“Extremely,” admitted Nurse Sam without batting an eyelid, her gaze level with Rachael’s as she leaned back in her comfortable-looking wheeled chair, her magnificent bosom doing rather dangerous-looking things to the buttons on the front of her slightly too-tight nurse’s uniform. “Doctor Watanabe has been spending the day doing some paperwork she let pile up during the spring allergy season, when we were all so busy treating symptoms. And I’ve been lucky enough to finally start organizing all the student files for what might just be the first time since I came to work in this office.”

Rachael believed it: Nurse Sam was the last of the medical staff to be hired by Principal Washington, and she was probably the only one with any patience for organizational duties. Lisa Lemontree (and Rachael couldn’t quite repress the shudder that came at the thought of that individual) was what was commonly called a “people person” (at least by herself). As for Doctor Saki Watanabe…well, she was nice enough, and certainly a professional when she was on the job, but she had “other” interests, and there was gossip around the school about how she spent her weekends…

“Rachael McMichaels!” came the sudden, chirpy, horrifyingly familiar voice from behind the orange-haired girl, and despite all her former resolve, Rachael couldn’t stop herself from looking upward, one hand going unconsciously to the tiny gold crucifix she wore beneath her school uniform’s blouse (incidentally, and perhaps ironically, right where she’d been wearing her collar during the weekend). “It’s so good to see you! Oh, wait, you’re here…are you all right? Can I get you anything to help with discomfort? You’re not in any pain, I hope.”

“Hello Nurse Lemontree,” Rachael said, but only after she felt that she could speak without letting the dread creep into her voice, turning to face the tall, slim, bubbly bleach blonde…only to have the nurse (whose uniform honestly looked more like a nurse fetishist’s costume than a proper uniform) immediately place a hand on Rachael’s abdomen and start to gently apply pressure.

“Does this hurt?” asked the insufferably gorgeous blonde, not seeming to care in the slightest how much cleavage she ended up showing off when she bent over to do her on-the-spot checkup. “Or this?”

“Nurse Sam said you were helping with the subliminals down in middleschool,” Rachael replied, pointedly ignoring the questioning; before she’d been awakened to the possibilities of other females as sex partners, Lisa Lemontree had been a source of strange frustration and perpetual irritation, as was only to be expected from a somewhat shy introvert dealing with a radiantly attractive and blatantly sexualized extrovert like the blonde nurse. Now that Spike and Dallas and Miss Benny and all the other morphs had opened her eyes to all the many possibilities, however…

This was going to be very difficult.

“I certainly was,” Nurse Lemontree responded, standing up, but only partway, so that she could better put her gaze halfway between the shorter carrot-topped teen and the seated Nurse Sam (and, incidentally, placing her not-insignificant boobies right on a level with Rachael’s face). “But I promised Sam here that I’d be back for lunch, so she could take some time off to go eat.”

“Thanks, Lisa,” Nurse Sam said, taking a deep breath (and almost popping a button in the process) as she rose to her feet. Before she’d completely rounded the desk, however, she glanced at her computer screen, and then gave Rachael a benevolent smile. “It looks as though the doctor will see you now, Miss McMichaels.”

Saved!

Faith restored in a higher power, Rachael slipped through the frosted glass door to the main medical center in the transition period as Nurse Sam headed out the door and Nurse Lemontree took up her position behind the desk.

Standing primly by the door as Rachael came in, Doctor Saki Watanabe smiled at the teen and gave her a slight nod of greeting, then motioned her to follow behind while she turned and walked toward one of the many curtained off areas that made up the large medical area. Due to its relatively recent construction, the school hadn’t commissioned anyone to put too many interior walls into the medical center, instead relying on the double-thick curtains for privacy purposes. Functionally, these were the same as cubicles, and within the area where Doc Saki led Rachael was a small desk with a computer, as well as an examination table, a cabinet on rollers, and a rather complicated-looking general-purpose medical machine whose full purposes Rachael could only begin to guess.

“Hello Rachael,” Saki said as she seated herself, while Rachael did the same in one of the folding chairs set up in the little makeshift office. “What brings you to my office today?”

*

Asako Watanabe knew perfectly well about a great many of the things her older sister had done in the past, especially when she’d first left their home in Japan to go to the States to better pursue her passion for the medical sciences. The older Watanabe girl had never had many inhibitions, and likewise she’d never once thought to hold anything back from her beloved younger sister: she and Asako loved each other! They’d kept up a constant correspondence via e-mail during all of Saki’s time spent in college, and while Saki wasn’t graphic in her depictions of some of the fun times she’d had at parties and barhopping and such – Japanese girls, apparently, were considered deeply exotic by a great many American men – she’d given her younger sister more than enough details that the younger Watanabe girl knew not to share what she learned with their parents.

Their parents…Saki was just starting her second year of medical school when she’d been drafted, along with any medical personnel available, to help treat the sick during the last great whyker wave. It hadn’t done much good – too little was known about the disease, and it struck too fast for anyone to do more than treat symptoms and comfort the survivors – but it had given Saki lots of experience, and also ensured that she’d be able to get just about any job she could want after she graduated. This was just as well, since her and Asako’s parents were among the many victims of whyker when it hit the Japanese islands, starting at the American base at Okinawa. With a job lined up as a school doctor ready for her after gradutation, it wasn’t hard for Saki to legally adopt her own sister and bring her to live with her in the States.

A glance was all that was needed for the relationship between the sisters to be obvious, even though Saki was so much older than Asako: they both had the same longish, slightly wavy brown hair (though Asako had hers trimmed off just above her shoulders, while Saki liked to wear hers long), the same nearsightedness (Saki preferred contacts, while Asako preferred square-rimmed glasses), the same light golden cast to their skin, and the same trim, petite figures. Unlike her big sister, however, who was outgoing and enthusiastic (at least by Japanese standards), Asako was a shy girl, bookish by nature, and prone to spending time alone or with a small, quiet circle of friends. Like her sister, however, she had certain urges, and while she didn’t like to be so obvious about them as Saki was (though less so these days, now that there weren’t so many men around), all the same, she felt a need to scratch that itch.

In Asako’s case, a means for “scratching the itch” came when she first met October Sumner. Before she’d first met the pale-skinned, raven-haired goth chick (October’s own way of describing herself, unashamedly), Asako had already found a little circle of friends with a similar temperament to herself, mostly introverted girls around the school where her big sister worked. Girls with similar interests, as it turned out, though they’d all been terribly shy about discussing them with each other until, suddenly, October had appeared on the scene.

It had been at the public library (not the school’s library, since they didn’t carry the sorts of things Asako liked to read in her private time), and while her friends were busying themselves elsewhere, Asako had made straight for the section with the manga collections. Whoever did the purchasing for the library’s comics and graphic novels, either they didn’t know much about the subject, or else they’d deliberately neglected to mention some details to their budget committee, but either way, the collection at the library included a great many manga that stretched the boundaries of decency. Some, in fact, were frankly erotic. And Asako, when she’d first discovered them, had immediately gone to work seeking out the ones that held some of her deepest, darkest, more secret fantasies ever: rape fantasies.

Of course Asako knew that what she read was just that: fantasy. Rape in real life was ugly, brutal, messy, and cruel, and not really about sex at all. But the thought of such rough sex, of pleasure being forced on someone whether they wanted it or not, until finally they did want it…there was something so enticing about the concept that she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

Naturally, it was right as Asako had gotten to the juiciest part of her chosen manga, hidden between the shelves and well out of sight, that October had wandered by and looked over Asako’s shoulder.

“That’s pretty hot,” she’d commented so casually, Asako forgot to snap the book shut for several moments, instead looking up at the pale-skinned girl standing over her, a pleasant, slightly teasing, but completely nonjudgmental smile on her face.

After that sort of an introduction, it was only natural that October would find her way into Asako’s circle of friends, even if she was older than all of them. She took on a sort of mentor role for the younger girls, introducing them to her circle of older friends in the process, and also helping them all to open up more fully to each other, to be willing to share even their most intimate secrets.

Secrets like, say, Saki’s porn stash.

“Wow,” murmured Dora, her wide eyes looking even larger behind her round glasses as she stared at the portable video player around which Asako and her little circle of five (including herself) were gathered. “Is he really gonna…?”

Moko leaned over and very gently brushed a finger over the brown-haired girl’s lips, shushing her without having to say a thing herself. Moko Doji came from an aristocratic family, one of the “old money” families of Japan that, like so many, had emigrated to the States following the plagues and wars, and she’d grown up learning all the subtleties of etiquette. Looking like a fine china doll, complete with gorgeous black hair and flawless pale skin as well as the very best in fashion, those who knew Moko casually would never have guessed how truly kinky the girl could be. Asako supposed that it came from having to conceal her true feelings all the time around her family, something October had admitted she thought as well, and their sessions together, exploring something naughty each week, served as an outlet that she desperately needed.

After October had enjoyed a few frank discussions with Doc Saki on the subject (a subject she’d brought up herself after she felt secure enough to take a risk on the older Watanabe), she and Asako had started the tradition of taking pains to arrange a free period right before lunch, so as to spend that time in one of the free spaces in the medical center, perusing “educational material.” Honestly, though, Asako felt that she’d learned a lot from some of those sources! Actually reading the articles in some of the smuttiest magazines uncovered strange and rare gems of knowledge that she’d never thought would be possible, considering the source material. Usually, the girls in Asako’s and October’s little circle who could arrange for their free period in that time slot (five was only the current number that semester – the others just had to find out what was viewed on their own time) perused vintage magazines and underground comics, some of it dating all the way back to the nineteen-seventies or even earlier. Today, though, with the double-layered curtains thick enough to muffle most sound, they were watching a more recent acquisition Saki had come across, a film titled “The Black Knight.”

A film written, directed, produced, and acted entirely by morphs.

“You’re sure this is really only rated R?” asked Paris, the picture-perfect little blonde (already a model for advertising, her looks making it immediately obvious how she landed the position before she was even out of highschool) covering her mouth as she, like Dora, flushed deeply at the events taking place on screen.

“Yeah,” October assured the willowy cutie, putting on an air of nonchalance as she, like the other four girls, kept her eyes fixed on the small screen. “It’s just morphs, after all.”

On the small screen, a massive black stallionmorph strode confidently across a rugged landscape, his white teeth standing out against his dark fur and equally dark armor (if armor it could be called – there was so little of it, he would have been more decently dressed if he’d gone naked!). Over one broad shoulder, a young unicorn princess with pearly white fur and flowing blonde hair struggled desperately – and very fetchingly – against her bonds, her flawless white labia presented plainly toward the camera, along with the tiny white star of her anal ring, while the stallion gripped her bottom firmly with the massive hand holding her in place. Occasionally, the big black stallion would caress a little lower, making the helpless filly squeal into the gag in her muzzle, her eyes sometimes turning toward the camera, giving the audience the most appealing, most heartfelt “poor me” expression imaginable. In the background of the scene, a castle was burning, while following behind the stallion were several other burly morphmales, all of them bearing similar lovely burdens over their shoulders, though a few instead tugged chains, to which were fastened the coffles of the victors’ fresh-caught slaves.

“They have boys as well as girls with them,” Dora stated with dawning realization, and this time Moko didn’t quiet the other girl, too busy leaning forward, eyes shining with eagerness to see what would happen next.

The film “The Black Knight” was a sword-and-sorcery epic, a three-hour feature that had taken audiences worldwide by storm. The prudish tendencies of the United States had kept it from getting a theatrical release there, but it had still done fantastically well in home video sales and internet rentals. Its protagonist, the anti-hero Blanchard, a mercenary knight who did some pretty despicable things (such as making sweet, helpless, innocent unicorn fillies cum right on screen until they passed out, as Asako and her friends soon saw for themselves), and yet was better than the villains he opposed, was played by the equally controversial actor Montenegro.

Montenegro had been a convicted criminal sent to one of the morph detainment centers after he’d engaged in violence against humans, but after his release he’d gone to work in Hollywood, starting out building sets, and then landing a part as a horse spirit in a western drama. Jobs for morph actors were hard to come by, however, and so he’d taken his money, and that of several of his friends (and rumored lovers), and started his own company, with the specific intention of getting morphs into the movies. After shooting a great many “blue films,” taking advantage of the minimal restrictions on morph on-screen sexuality (legally they were still regarded as animals in many instances, and so were able to get away with a great deal more than human actors ever could) to earn a nice living, “The Black Knight” was the first serious film put out by Ride By Night Studios. Judging from what the internet had to say about its popularity – and profitability – there were likely to be many more films to come.

Speaking of “coming,” the girls watched, wide-eyed and silent, as, while the titular character watched the unicorn girl he’d pleasured into unconsciousness slumber without deflowering her – a pleasure he was saving for later – a smug look on his handsome face, the rest of his mercenary band were far less chivalrous with their prizes from the day’s conquest. A mother ewe and her two daughters were forced to bleat loudly as ravenous wolfmorphs greedily slurped on their exposed white-and-pink parts, while her son was forced to watch while being bounced on the lap of a broad-bodied, one-eyed badger (who, as it turned out later, was the Black Knight’s best friend, and the sergeant of the company), who grinned toothily as he shafted the squirming boy, jerking the bleating youngster off with the same vigor he used in humping him. A fierce warrior she-wolf, one of the castle defenders taken prisoner, snarled and fought as she was pinned to the ground, her expression gradually changing from savagery to surprise to dismay to shocked pleasure as a thickly-muscled jaguar lapped at her bared, grey-furred pussy with a tongue that was startlingly pink, while a pair of identical twin cheetahs held her down, smiling calmly as they waited their turns. Other scenes were shown, but only in brief flashes, of foxes ravishing innocent churchmice, weasels mounting chickens, pigs spitroasted by hyenas, and many more. Those scenes were there to get notice from viewers, to shock the audience into paying attention; an appetizer, rather than the main course. The starting scenes, showing the Black Knight and the princess around which much of the film’s conflict would revolve; the badger and the lamb-boy who would become his protégé; the she-wolf who would join the mercenaries as an equal, and her three feline lovers, these were the important parts, using the sex as a vehicle for character building. In that period of vulnerability and passion, so short and yet so impactful, the movie built up the characters more completely through body language than many human-made movies did with hours of screentime and intricate dialogue.

Mesmerized by the film, Asako almost didn’t notice her sister talking to someone two curtained areas over. When she heard the words the girl in the other room was saying, however, she blinked, and paused the movie player. Raising a hand to stave off the protests of her friends, she touched a finger to her lips, then pointed to where she wanted them to listen. This…now this was something interesting.

*

Somewhere in the background, Rachael could hear the slight buzzing of a television. It was turned down too low and was too muffled by intervening curtains for her to hear what was being said by the set, but it made for background white sound as she fidgeted a little nervously in the chair opposite Doc Saki’s.

“It…it all kinda started last Friday,” she said finally after Doc Saki let the silence draw out between them for several minutes, giving Rachael all the time she needed to collect her thoughts without interruption. “I was taking a walk, and I ran into these young morphs…boys, really, about my age. They scared me, and I thought I was in danger, but I guess I was just overreacting, but I didn’t know it, and then this other guy comes out of nowhere, a morph, but a lot older, and he made the boys go away, and then I took Miss Benny to him to be trained, and me and my friends, we watched while he mated with her…”

“Slow down, Rachael,” Doc Saki soothed the teenager, reaching out to put a gentle hand on Rachael’s. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Taking a deep breath, Rachael closed her eyes, then let it out, nice and slow. Her heart was still pounding when she opened her eyes again, but at least she knew what she had to say now.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Doc Saki’s eyebrows raised.

“From the morph you mentioned?” she asked after a long beat for the information to process fully.

Rachael nodded.

The information was so shocking to both of them, both in the sharing and in the receiving, that neither Rachael nor Doc Saki noticed when the television sounds in the background suddenly shut off.

Another beat passed, and then Doc Saki’s professional demeanor returned as she stood and slid a set of gynecologist’s stirrups out of the examining table, adjusting the startlingly flexible piece of medical furniture to its new purpose with a few pulls and pushes of cunningly concealed levers. Rachael watched this process with blinking fascination, but couldn’t help swallowing in some nervousness as Doc Saki finished the job, then drew a syringe out of a handy drawer, along with several test tubes.

“I’ll need you to disrobe, please, and climb into the stirrups, Rachael,” Doc Saki instructed the redheaded teen as she prepared her equipment, including a centrifuge for the test tubes. “If you’ve become sexually active, it only makes sense to give you a proper checkup of your ladyparts to make sure nothing’s been damaged. The needle is for a pregnancy check, incidentally. Rather fantastic, honestly: the whole process has been refined so much, it only takes about a half hour for results, perhaps less.” She gave Rachael a reassuring smile over her shoulder, the expression enough to finally prompt the younger girl into action, rising to her feet and starting to unbutton her school uniform’s blouse. “The whole process used to take hours to complete. Not something you’d want to have to endure when you’re worried about something this important, I must say.”

“Sounds awful,” agreed Rachael, puzzling out the saddle-like rearrangement of the exam table for a few minutes, before finally carefully sliding into place, the whole feeling something like mounting a very short pony. Except, well, she felt a lot more exposed, with her orange-fluffed pubis thrust out on display like it was. If she didn’t already know Doc Saki, and trust her so well, she might have chickened out before getting to this point. As it was, her mind was so caught up with so many different thoughts and emotions, she hardly realized that Doc Saki had taken her blood sample until the doctor was measuring out the sample into several tubes with odd-colored agar at the bottoms, then sliding them into the centrifuge. “If I was worried about being pregnant, I’d want to know right away. I mean, it’s kind of a big deal.”

“You might as well be British, with that level of understatement,” chuckled Doc Saki as she changed her gloves so as not to contaminate her work with any blood or other fluids, then slid on a facial shield before turning to face the still slightly-nervous girl.

“Well, I do really like Monty Python,” Rachael quipped, both of them laughing for a moment, letting the tension dissipate slightly.

“Why don’t you tell me about the whole situation?” Doc Saki prompted as she bent between Rachael’s legs, pulling a set of calipers out of its sterile warming holster and readying it for use. “It helps me to better know what I should look for if I understand the whole situation. This morph, he didn’t…well, it was entirely consensual, right?”

“Oh yes!” Rachael immediately responded, blushing at the certainty in her voice as she shyly turned her head. “I mean…well…Spike says it’s not possible for morphs to rape somebody. Not really rape them, I mean. He’s been really open and honest about everything so far, and I don’t have any reason to doubt his word. He’s the one that told me I was probably pregnant…actually, he said it was a sure thing. He said he could smell it when it happened.” Then Rachael paused, sucking in a hissed breath as Doc Saki applied the calipers to her examination, her whole body shuddering with sudden sensitivity. “I guess there’s one thing I’d like you to check while you’re, um, ‘down there,’” she added, prompting the masked doctor to look up curiously. “I’ve been really sensitive recently. I mean, freakishly so, or that’s how it feels. Sexually sensitive, I mean. I guess it all started with that first mating I was starting to tell you about.”

Doc Saki glanced up occasionally, making soft noises of interest, letting Rachael know she was listening and should continue while she worked. In the background, the centrifuge stopped its spin in the otherwise quiet medical center, Rachael’s words filling in the empty space as she described her experiences over the last several days, from the start of the weekend all the way up to that very morning…

*

Just a goodbye kiss, that’s what Spike had told Girl. Some kiss! All the same, maybe that was just what Spike meant, at least until Bird showed up with her sweet pink buns on full display, parading around the kitchen while she explained what had happened on her morning jog.

“What am I supposed to do with you, Bird?” Girl sighed exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes heavenward before she looked at Spike, who’d just walked in from where he’d been walking around in the big field that bordered the fence-lined street. “Spike, look at what Bird is wearing! Or not wearing, anyway.”

“Hard to miss it,” snorted the muscular pitbull as he approached the blonde human from behind, coming in through the door that led outside, while Rachael watched from near the inner doorway, the one that separated from the living room with a beaded curtain, Shania and Brandy right in front of her, the bespectacled black girl only slightly taller than the carrot-topped teen, while Brandy and Bird excelled her by a good head’s height. All three of the girls who’d spent the night at Spike’s place went wide-eyed as their red-eyed alpha let his weighty shaft slide from its sheath, its sheer mass enough to draw all eyes, even Girl’s, who had seen it plenty of times before. “Well, I guess I owe Bird a goodbye kiss, too,” he continued, smoothly catching hold of Bird’s ponytail and bending her over the round table in the middle of the room, his other mighty paw seizing her outthrust bottom, squeezing and rolling the toned half-globe outward, exposing the tender pink treasures half-concealed by its swell. “And maybe something to remember me by while she’s gone for the day,” he added, letting the hand that had been holding Bird’s ponytail slide down her back until it joined the other in kneading her supple flesh, before his thumbs peeled her well-flushed labia apart.

“Spike,” chided Girl, hands-on-hips as the plump-bottomed cocker spaniel morph glared at her mate, tapping one foot. “You know the girls have to be off to school soon.”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, turning his head to look at Girl, giving her a smile that was almost pleasant, something that was hard on a face as battlescarred and battle-ready as the pitbull’s. “But we’ve still got some time. Besides, you know how they were while you were bathing them this morning: they’re all tense. Not the best way to try and get your head into your books.” He rolled his shoulders, giving a slight chuckle as he slid a thick digit into Bird’s slick slit, then joined it with two more after he’d confirmed how ready she was. “I’m just gonna give ‘em a quickie before I send ‘em out. Something to take the edge off.”

“Well…I guess you’ve got a point,” Girl admitted, and though her face made it obvious she was reluctant to let the point go, when she finally did, she seemed to accept it entirely, turning to look at the other three. “Well?” she queried impatiently. “You heard Spike: get your panties off. Turns out you’re lucky this morning.” Glancing back at Bird, who cried out loudly, her hands balled up into fists as Spike began to greedily slurp on her swollen pink parts, growling as he drove his tongue into her depths, Girl chuckled, shaking her head as she might at any harmless childish antic. “I guess I’ll go and find some of my spare running shorts,” she concluded, though she didn’t leave the kitchen right away. Instead she waited until Spike stood up behind Bird, who was panting heavily as she sprawled across the kitchen table, and licked her floppy spaniel’s chops, eyes heavy-lidded as the fight-muscled male shafted his cock in one hand, then guided the seeping glans into place against the human girl’s cunny. His powerful buttocks tensed, big paws back to gripping Bird’s butt in a two-fisted hold, before Bird almost screamed as the orgasms wracked her, Spike’s shaft vanishing into her tight-clenching quim until his hips met her upturned bottom with a loud smack, making the heart-shaped twin mounds bounce with the impact. Finally, when Spike was making the whole table jerk with each of his rapidfire thrusts, and the gorgeous, athletic blonde was gasping for breath, clawing at the table in ecstatic desperation, Girl slipped quietly from the room, though the look in her eyes made it clear that she’d be thinking about what she’d seen for a very long time to come.

“Cum” is exactly what Spike didn’t do, as it turned out: he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was going to give his girls a quickie for the road, and after Bird was left sprawled across the table, panting for breath, her eyes half-closed, the powerful male pulled out, gritting his teeth at the shock of having his prick bouncing in the relative chill of the room after having been so comfortably buried in such a nice, warm, wet place just moments before. He didn’t stop there, though; instead he reached out, his hand catching hold of Brandy’s shoulder. The auburn-haired girl, so like Bird in appearance in so many ways, including her ponytail (though her breasts, it had to be admitted, were noticeably larger), had shucked her jeans shorts, and when Spike’s muzzle met her bared sex as he hoisted her up onto the nearby counter, she looped her legs around his head, gasping loudly as his tongue thrust outward and in…deep, until her head snapped back, red leather jacket falling open as she arched her back, exposing her t-shirt. Shrugging off the grip of her legs, Spike stepped between them, his hips arching in time with Brandy’s own gyrations, giving a short bark of pleasureshock that was soon drowned out by the cries of the basketball team captain, her hands wrapping around Spike’s upper body, while her legs clasped right beneath his docked tailstub.

Eventually, Brandy’s grip grew slack as the grinding of his hips slowed, and she let him lay her back gently against the kitchen wall, her buns still seated on the countertop. Rachael, meanwhile, was breathing hard as she watched Spike’s firm, masculine bottom hunching, tensing, thrusting forward and back, in and out, loud slaps of flesh-on-flesh filling the small kitchen area with every impact of the pitbull’s fat balls against Brandy’s tushie. And every time he hilted himself, those gorgeous, full breasts of the auburn-haired beauty would bounce as he growled and grunted over her, putting his all into every savage, primal movement. Soon Brandy’s breasts became fully exposed as Spike’s large paws stroked her t-shirt up her body, all the way almost to her shoulders, letting him grip and then maul them in his powerful hands, every touch seeming to just drive Brandy that much more wild.

That was what Rachael loved most about Spike, she realized: his absolute dedication. When he was doing something (or someone!), he did it with everything he had. And at that moment his focus was entirely centered on making Brandy cum until she’d have a hard time walking!

Gasping softly at the same time Brandy screamed as orgasm hit her brain hard and fast, Rachael turned her head to look at Miss Benny. The collie had unbuttoned Rachael’s white blouse almost without the human girl noticing, and was now lovingly handling the carrot-topped teen’s breasts, as gentle with them as Spike was being rough on poor Brandy. Leaning over, Benny slowly arched out her tongue, stroking its smooth, wet surface across the tops of both of Rachael’s breasts, the contact making Rachael moan far more loudly than she’d thought she would.

Hearing a moan much like her own, Rachael spared a look toward Shania, the skinny black teen trembling in Girl’s gentle grip, while the pleasingly plump spaniel femme slipped one finger into Shania’s swollen cunny, a finger from her other hand muffling the cries this lower touch brought as it filled the petite girl’s mouth. Before Spike had even finished pulling out of Brandy, now panting hard as she lay slumped on the countertop, magnificent breasts heaving with every breath, Girl was bending poor Shania over the table on the opposite side from Bird, growling such wickedly obscene ideas into Shania’s ear in her cute, higher-pitched voice (which just made her growly tones even cuter) that just hearing some of them made Rachael’s whole body tingle.

Then Spike was there, and Rachael’s eyes couldn’t help but zero in on his massive pink penis as he let Girl guide it right up to Shania’s achingly snug-looking quim, the labia stuck together from the sheer wetness of her puffy lower lips. Spike’s hips thrust forward, his heavy sac swinging like a pendulum…while his cock plowed into Shania’s juicy sex like a battering ram! Instantly, Shania was scrabbling at the table with her hands, trying to get a grip on something – anything! – while Spike ruthlessly pounded her pert black bottom, making the tones half-globes bounce with every near-vicious impact, and in seconds she started to babble near-nonsense words, trying to form coherent sentences to somehow give proper voice to what she was feeling right then. Fortunately for Shania, Bird was there a moment later, at least partially recovered from her own sexual mauling, the ponytailed blonde taking the other girl’s hands in her own, her lips meeting Shania’s, the pair kissing each other with the same savage intensity as Spike was putting into demolishing poor Shania’s pussy.

“She won’t last long,” Benny stage-whispered so Rachael could hear her, slowly going to her knees, kissing her way down Rachael’s back and ribs and hips as she did so. “Master is being cruel this morning. But don’t worry, mistress: I’ll make sure you’re properly prepared for him.” Rachael bent forward slightly as she felt Benny’s hands on her butt, placing her hands next to where Brandy was starting to get her breathing under control on the counter, letting the collie get a better angle with her muzzle pointed toward the human girl’s red-furred cunny. “I’ll never leave you without my help again, mistress,” she whispered again, this time so soft that Rachael had to strain to hear her over the erotic sounds coming from the kitchen table. “Never…ever…ever.”

Then Benny’s tongue was thrusting deep, deep into Rachael’s inner walls, wriggling in ways that only a canomorph’s broad, smooth, nearly prehensile tongue could manage, stimulating Rachael’s cunny right up to the very gates of her fertilized womb. Once she felt the first flick of the beautiful colliefemme’s tonguetip against her cervix, well, that was all she wrote as far as Rachael was concerned. Her eyes went wide and staring, but not at anything, her vision suddenly cut off with a flash of inner white light so bright, she was sure she’d gone blind for almost a full minute. When her vision did return, it was granted the sight of Spike’s broad, bare chest. Behind him, Shania lay with her head tilted to one side, mouth open, tongue actually lolling slightly out (though not nearly as much as a canomorph’s would have), eyes almost closed, and cunny visibly very well used. Not a drop of Spike’s cum could be seen anywhere, though: this was about his girls, after all, not himself.

Looking down dazedly as Benny slipped back, out of Spike’s way, the pitbull gripped Rachael’s shoulder, easily turning her around, then backed her up against the wall. She looked down, swallowing and then wetting her dry-feeling lips in anticipation as she saw that magnificent male organ, a powerful symbol of his raw masculinity, already rubbing against the flushed gates of her burgeoning womanhood.

“Hold on tight, Rach,” Spike growled in her ear, and unlike Girl’s cutesy voice, Spike’s rumbling, primitive baritone sent shivers up and down the carrot-topped teen’s spine, making her tummy do flip-flops and her knees go weak. “I am not gonna be gentle with you.”

*

Doc Saki arched an eyebrow at the quick spurt of girlcum that splashed against her facial shield, even as she carefully withdrew the calipers (which, not being a barbarian, she’d carefully warmed with the latest sterilization techniques well before insertion). Of course, that was one of the reasons why she wore it, but all the same, Rachael’s complaints of being sexually sensitive did seem well-justified. Looking absolutely mortified, Rachael covered her mouth with one hand, blushing furiously.

“Sorry,” she almost whispered.

Rather than immediately respond, Saki lightly stroked a hand up through the short ruddy curls of Rachael’s escutcheon, arching an eyebrow.

“Not often that I see a natural redhead,” she quipped with a light smile, her demeanor putting Rachael quickly at ease once more, her body relaxing a little even as Doc Saki turned and began to wash her hands, stripping off her gloves as she did so, then replacing them as she readied herself to inspect the pregnancy test tubes. “It seems sometimes like everyone in the school is a blonde, or a redhead, or some other more fantastic color. All the product of either nanogels, or the far more permanent retroviral treatments they have now. You know, it’s even possible with those latter techniques to pass on some truly strange hair or eye colors, even blue or purple or green, which are never found in nature.” As she finished picking up the test tube and measuring out its contents with a pipette, she glanced over her shoulder, smiling at the girl still splayed out in the stirrups. “Based on my observations, I’d say that your boyfriend, this…’Spike,’ is very well-endowed: you’re rather stretched, and it looks as though you’d received some rough…um…’use’ not all that long ago. No semen, though, or at least nothing significant enough for me to easily notice on an initial spot check. No serious damage either, so I’d guess you were well-prepared when he entered you,” she paused a moment, blinking as a realization hit her, before she carefully worked at keeping her tone neutral. “Not even to your anal region. That’s rather unusual, from what I’ve heard.”

“Yeah,” admitted Rachael, looking down and trying to remember that Doc Saki was a doctor, and hence wouldn’t go blabbing private information to just anyone, something that wasn’t all that hard to do, since Saki had taken care of her for most of her highschool career; there’d been plenty of time for trust to be built up. “He kinda squeezed me up against the wall, then pushed that big penis of his into me. It’s really human-looking, at least according to the textbooks I’ve seen, except it’s all one color, a sort of pink, and it tucks up in a sheath when it’s not in use, and…well…it’s big. I’ve seen a lot of naked morphguys over the weekend, and I guess Spike is about average for a morph. Maybe even on the smaller side, at least with length, though he’s easily as thick as any of them.

“With my legs on his shoulders, he started just humping me, those big balls of his slapping my butt really hard with every thrust. I know he can cum a whole lot of times in a row if he wants, so I didn’t really know why he was holding it in. He did, though: that’s why there’s no cum in me…uh, sorry, I mean semen.”

“That’s all right,” Doc Saki chuckled, putting drops from the measured doses of serum into test plates on her lab table. “You can be informal around me, Rachael. But what about the anal stretching? I’ve heard that can be quite dangerous, and extremely painful.”

“I don’t know about either of those,” Rachael said with a light smile, slightly embarrassed. “I…well, I kinda had a bunch of penises in my butt this weekend, Spike’s among them. Nobody ever hurt me. Of course, they all made sure I had lots of lubrication first, and had already had several orgasms, maybe to make me all relaxed when they fit themselves into me. As for this morning, Spike just railed into me, making this hot snarly face he always gets when he’s totally focused on nailing a girl, when you just know that the place where your body and his meet is all he’s thinking about, and how he can make it as good for you as possible. He didn’t just hump me, in and out, either; he worked his hips a lot, too, stimulating all these spots on my insides, different ones for when he thrust in and when he pulled out.

“The one really doglike feature on Spike’s penis, aside from his sheath, is this sort of a bulb at the base. It’s not always there, and I think it only shows up when he’s really excited. I guess, since he’d just plowed through three other girls, that he was starting to hit the limits of his stamina – hard to believe, but I guess even Spike has some limits – and as I was reaching around to grab hold of that gorgeous butt of his, every time he hilted his shaft in me, I’d feel the bulb of his penis squeeze and rub hard against my G-spot. Morphgirls are really lucky: all the ones I’ve seen up close have their clitorises turned a little downward, just enough so that it gets stimulated every time a boy moves his penis inside them. If I was like Girl, or my Miss Benny, I…well, I don’t think I’d have made it to school today at all. As it was, I was screaming and squirting all over Spike’s stomach while my whole body twitched and tensed; my muscles were so tight, I couldn’t move any more than that, my eyes squeezed shut too while I bit down on Spike’s shoulder just to keep from making myself hoarse.

“That’s when he took a few steps, through the bead curtain leading to the living room, and laid me down on the floor. The floor’s tile in the kitchen, but in the living room, and most of the house, it’s this soft, plush carpet. It must’ve belonged to morphs for years, I guess, because it smells like them, Spike and lots of others. Their pheromones must have gotten trapped in the carpet, and in the walls, and…well, everywhere, because when you first walk in Spike’s home, it’s like what I’ve heard taking a hit from a bong is like. Immediately your whole body goes into this kind of primitive state, even while your normal brain is working the way it always does. The first time I went into Spike’s house, rather than his office, which is well-ventilated, I didn’t even realize how turned on I’d become, it happened so suddenly and so completely, until after I left later that day, and discovered that my panties were soaking wet.

“I guess when I’m that high on morph pheromones, I don’t feel a lot of pain,” Rachael added with a light giggle. “There I was, on my back, my legs over Spike’s shoulders, seeing but not really seeing it as he popped his big, glistening pink penis out of my vagina…and then screaming again when he plunged it right into my anus, just pausing long enough to smear some of the juices already all along its length onto my butthole before he went in deep. I wasn’t screaming because it hurt, though; I guess Spike and everybody had kind of, well, trained me to…like it.”

“Sounds too good to be true,” Doc Saki admitted as she began running a final device over the titred samples, a flashing blue light flickering into the treated liquid. “A whole race of well-endowed males with godlike physiques and a total devotion to a woman’s orgasm, besides pheromones that make all that pleasure even more intense. Everyone knows that humans don’t get impacted by pheromones, at least not nearly to the degree of other animals.”

“All I know is what I’ve experienced, and what I’ve been told by the morphs themselves,” Rachael admitted as Doc Saki finished up, scribbling something on a piece of paper on a nearby clipboard. “Of course, while I was writhing on the carpet, screaming my head off as I just came and came and came some more, first Girl was there, kissing me, and then Bird and Brandy, and they were sucking on my breasts; I guess Shania was still recovering in the kitchen, or I’m sure she’d have been there too. I’ve never really been all that sensitive around my breasts, Doc, but ever since I’ve been around Spike and everyone, all it took was my friends applying a little suction, stroking my tummy with their hands, and I saw stars.

“Then I didn’t see anything but my Miss Benny’s cunny and tailhole, because I heard Spike growling at her – not in a mean way – to get on top and show me how much she loved me. I figured out what he meant in about two seconds, when Benny started licking my sex all over, flicking her tongue around where Spike’s penis was going in and out of my butt every so often before she went right back to eating me out…and she was greedy about it, too! Lying there like that, surrounded by my friends, who all just happened to be girls, with another girl’s swollen pink cunny just a tongue’s distance away from my face…well, can you blame me, Doc, if I decided to have a taste for myself? Well…I did, and I loved the taste, feeling those pheromones soaking almost directly into my brain through my nostrils. They made my whole body feel like it was on fire, that thick penis in my butt just enhancing all the other feelings going through me, and before I knew it, I was screaming again, this time right into Miss Benny’s pussy, while she was howling like a rabid wolf.” Rachael smiled sheepishly as she watched Doc Saki release the catches on the stirrups, letting the teen lower her legs at last. “I guess she was kind of pent-up too,” she concluded, hopping off the exam table and bending over to grab her panties, while Saki did her best to remain professionally detached.

“Based on my observations, and what you’ve told me,” was what she said instead, keeping her eyes fixed right on the back of Rachael’s head, “it looks and sounds as though you’re just a healthy, recent ex-virgin, and sex is something incredibly new for you. The novelty has your body all keyed up, I’d guess. It’s not unusual, and it’s not unnatural, though it might be a little inconvenient sometimes. Your, uh, ‘Spike’ probably had the right idea: masturbation should take the edge off when things get to be too much. As I said before, there’s no serious damage to the urogenital region, not even where you were anally penetrated, so it should be just fine for you to provide your own pleasure as needed, and to continue being sexually active, as long as you understand the risks.”

“Risks like being pregnant?” Rachael asked, only a little nervousness in her voice and stance as she finished getting dressed.

“Yeah,” Doc Saki admitted with a slightly hesitant smile. “You’re definitely pregnant, Rachael, based on the hormonal changes the tests picked up. I couldn’t tell you anything else about the baby at this point without some expensive genetic testing, or just waiting a while and getting a sonogram once the baby starts showing useful signs, oh, around twelve weeks or so.” Then she paused, blinking as a thought occurred to her. “Assuming you want to keep the child, of course. If not, I can make some arrangements; thankfully the law allows girls to get abortions without too much hassle, or needing parental approval, and the whole process is quite painless and very quick and discrete.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Rachael reassured the school doctor, patting her lightly on the shoulder, “but I want this baby. It’s,” she brought both her hands to her stomach, smiling slightly as she cradled what she saw in her mind’s eye would be the baby’s growth in three months’ time, “it’s a part of me, and of Spike, and something entirely new. Spike warned me about getting pregnant before we started getting serious about sex, and I was fine with it then, and I’m still fine with it now. He’s getting all the morphs in the neighborhood together, from what I heard him saying as I was heading out the door. Something about making the place a good place for children to grow up. I trust Spike, and he’s given me no reason to doubt him, so if he says he’ll take care of my child, and make sure it’s raised right, then I believe him.”

Doc Saki’s personal view on the reliability of men was somewhat different from Rachael’s, but she held her tongue. After all, no sense in disillusioning the girl at this stage of events, not when she was well and truly pregnant. Better to be available later, if and when things fell through, as a helpful shoulder to cry on, and a source of useful advice.

Hmm, speaking of useful advice…

“By the way, Rachael, where did you say this Spike lives?”

“It’s in the junkyard over on the edge of where humanside meets morphtown,” Rachael responded immediately. “Why? You planning on paying him a visit yourself?” She thought a moment, then smirked. “Maybe want to give him a piece of your mind, tell him to stop having sex with highschool girls?”

“Something like that, yeah,” admitted Saki, only a little sheepishly at being called out. Rachael was, after all, the sardonic sort when she started to open up. But at least that meant she was opening up!

“Here,” the carrot-topped teen offered, pulling her portable device out of one of the breast pocket of her blouse. “I’ll give you the proper address so you can find it for yourself on a GPS program. And…done.”

“Thanks, Rachael,” Doc Saki thanked the girl, before she noticed something in the background that made her almost frown, save for her long years of keeping a poker face around patients. “I guess that concludes things. I’ll walk you out to the front, if you don’t have any other questions.”

She didn’t, and it wasn’t long before Saki walked back into the doctor’s chambers. The first thing she did was to go straight to the curtained off area where her sister and her friends were ensconced, and pull the hanging cloth aside.

“Well?” she demanded, folding her arms and trying to look as authoritative as possible, while also trying her best to ignore the way the five girls were obviously adjusting their clothes, covering up much more smooth flesh than should have been exposed during the schoolday. Obviously they’d heard much more than typical doctor-patient confidentiality allowed.

“We didn’t mean to hear…” Asako began, before trailing off under her big sister’s withering glare. “We won’t tell anybody,” she continued, taking a tack that was likely to bear far better fruit.

“Damage is done,” sighed Saki, rolling her eyes. “So I guess silence is the best that I can hope for from you. C’mon, I think you’ve had enough playtime for today. You can finish that movie tomorrow, same time.” She arched an eyebrow, then, catching each girl’s eyes in turn, until they’d all lowered their gazes. “Provided you don’t listen in anymore. Agreed?”

“Yes ma’am,” chorused the girls as they shuffled out, and Saki had to admit, she was proud that none of the younger girls had adopted October’s manner of dress, and instead still wore the regulation school uniform. Not like “October” was the goth girl’s real name, anyway, the silly poseur. And what was wrong with a name like Aubrey Sumner? Ah well, at least she seemed like a nice girl, even with her obvious show of teenage angst.

“Miss Sumner,” Doc Saki halted the teen with the words, letting the others file out quietly, leaving them alone. She’d chosen to use October’s last name so as to avoid the perpetual conflict of whether to use the name October had chosen for herself, or the one she’d been born with. “Aren’t you friends with Miss McMichaels?”

“Yeah,” October admitted, only a little sullenly, her guilt at being caught spying making her more agreeable to an authority figure than was normal. “I won’t rat on her, I promise, and I’ll make sure the others don’t either. After all, us freaks have to stick together, you know?”

Doc Saki could have rolled her eyes at a statement like that, but she didn’t, knowing it would be conceding conversational defeat. “October’s” feathery black hair and moon-pale skin were both the products of nanogels. She’d known October back when she’d had fairly plain, straight hair of a rather nondescript brownish color. On that point, Saki had to admit, October’s new look was certainly more memorable. She supposed that the whole goth thing was one of those cries for attention, since October wasn’t really a troublemaker, even if she did tend to be a somewhat corrupting influence by the standards of most of the few parents who bothered to attend PTA meetings. October’s mother, like far too many of the mothers (or parents, in those occasional cases where there were, in fact, two of them to a household), was too busy with making money and taking part in her own private social life to spend much time with her teen. After all, when the big population crash had hit, having a baby had become a fad among the well-to-do, very often by artificial insemination. The resulting children tended to be about as awesome, genetically speaking, as they’d been advertised. They also tended to be almost completely neglected, allowing to run wild and do their own thing most of the time, functionally abandoned by parents who’d lost interest in their old toys. All things considered, October was actually pretty well-adjusted.

“I’m not worried about you breaking your promise, Miss Sumner,” Doc Saki said, sighing softly as she seated herself in her soft office chair. “I’m worried you might do something rash based on what you’ve heard. After all, you’re friends with that janitor…”

“Canopus,” October supplied immediately. “Like the jars the Egyptians used to store organs in.”

“Ick,” Doc Saki made a face, getting a giggle from October (which, of course, was the point – not much actually bothered Saki). “Well, you do get my point, I hope. I suspect Miss McMichaels is going to be the first of a good number of visits to my office in the too near future, once this sort of discovery starts getting around.” She shook her head, looking aghast. “And if what Rachael believes about morphs is true, and all these unsupervised girls start finding out about it…I don’t even know what will happen. It’s just too big for me to grasp, but I know it’s going to shake the foundations of our way of life.”

“Well,” October countered with a shrug, “maybe we could use a shakeup.”

Doc Saki blinked at this, then shrugged as well.

“I guess that’s it, then, Miss Sumner. You have a good day.”

“Yeah, Doc,” the goth girl returned with a cheerful smile that was so astonishingly out of place on her kohl-black lips, “you too.”