Deprivation Medication
Aria slipped behind her tactical station. Ross following her (very closely, like a mouse-ling), as if trying to stay snugged up in her shadow.
Advance looked up (from his Captain's chair). "Decided to join us?"
"We came when called," was the snow rabbit's simple, direct response.
The desert mouse nodded, nose sniffing (and whiskers twitching). "Alright," he said slowly. "You'd be the first, then. Lieutenants Herkimer and Advent haven't shown up. Just might've figured," the mouse continued, "they were as ... 'busy'," he offered diplomatically, "as you two were."
"Sir?" asked the snow rabbit, feigning innocence. And doing a good job at it, too. Keeping such a straight face. Such composed, ice-blue eyes.
But Ross didn't have the same emotional control. All one had to do was look at him ...
"Captain," interrupted Audrey, purposely saving the snow rabbit and vole from any further prodding. "We'll be there in less than a minute. We're down to impulse."
"Good," whispered the desert mouse, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. Taking a slow, deep breath. An inhale. And then letting it all out. "On-screen."
The image of the human ship blinked onto the big viewer at the front of the bridge. "Not very aesthetic," Advance whispered. Craning his neck to meet Ross's eyes. "Is it?"
"I guess not," the vole whispered. Was it his imagination ... or did the Captain not trust him? Aria trusted him. But ... whiskers twitching, sniffing the air, and looking around, Ross began to realize that, no. No one else on the bridge trusted him at ALL. And he drooped a bit at this. And subconsciously grabbed at the snow rabbit's fur.
Aria tensed at bit, knowing the action could be seen. Knowing, only mere seconds after coming onto the bridge, their actions had been broadcast. Their affections ... known. But, sensing Ross's fear and uncertainty, she relaxed. No need to make him think that she was embarrassed by this. She wasn't. She just tended to keep her relationships more ... well, more private, really, than other furs did. Ice furs had a tendency to be naturally enigmatic. They weren't the open, tell-all types ... but she'd KNOWN this was going to happen if ...
"Pray tell, WHERE is our doctor? Our ENGINEER?" Advance asked, sounding irritated. His voice a bit dry and arid. But, then, he was from the desert. His voice a bit wispy, airy. As male mice often sounded.
"I don't know, sir," was the response from Audrey.
"I called the entire senior staff up here. We have science and engineering stations," the Captain continued, "in back. I wanted direct input ... where's my crew?" he asked.
Audrey just gave a weak, little shrug. Mouthing, "How should I know?"
Advance sighed, standing, pacing, and sitting again. "Sub-Commander ... "
"Yes?" Aria raised her brow, attaining a weapons lock on the human ship (though she hadn't been asked to lock weapons ... she figured it would be a prudent course of action).
"Rumor has it you don't like my command style."
"Meaning?" the rabbit asked, not willing to be baited.
"I'm not ... daring enough. Not bold or assertive enough. I'm too 'mousey' ... "
"I don't recall saying such things."
"No?"
"No," the snow rabbit whispered blankly. So cool. "And, if I may speak freely ... this is hardly the time to have an identity crisis. Hardly a time," she continued, "to lament your lack of control over your own crew ... "
Advance fumed. "Yeah ... you're right." A sigh. And he sat again. And then stood again. When more prey ships had been built and commissioned (after Luminous), more prey captains were needed. Of course, everyone wanted a captain like Wren, the squirrel. Bold, strong, with a certain kind of attitude. First of his kind. But ... not everyone could be a Wren. And not everyone could anticipate how any captaincy would go ...
Advance had all the training. Perfect marks at school. On paper, he was a perfect captain.
In practice ...
... he would've made a much better first officer. All the other prey captains were squirrels, rabbits, such and such.
He was the only mouse. And he knew it was because ... the new government wished to appease ALL branches of prey society. They needed a mouse captain. Field had refused a captaincy (the offer having been relayed to him, via long-distance comm), but the former first officer of Luminous was ... content to stay on that far-flung colony of his. With his mate and daughter.
Which left Advance. They chose him.
And, now, he was engaging in first contact with a very dangerous, very mysterious species: humans. And, in the midst of a potentially dangerous encounter ... his senior officers had NOT reported to their stations. He was operating half-staffed.
"We're within range," Audrey announced. "Should I hail them?"
The desert mouse nodded briskly. "Yes."
The squirrel did so. An ear-piece in her ear. Listening ... ready to run the humans' language through the computer's translator. (Ross had a portable translator clipped to his clothing. And would keep it with him at all times ... until Aria could make him fluent in furry language.) And after a moment, Audrey shook her head. Removed her ear-piece. "No response," she whispered. "But I KNOW they can hear us."
"They're playing games," Advance stated, squinting at the screen. His heart pounding (but he couldn't show it). How horrible ... to be a mouse in command. And not be able to SHOW that you were a mouse. Not be able to BE a mouse. To have to be something MORE. And, more than anything right now, the Captain was miffed ... Welly, Herkimer, Advance ... three of his senior officers had entirely ignored his order to report to the bridge. No ... no, four. Lieutenant-Commander Bell-Bell, too, had failed to show up. Four of his senior officers ... no-shows. Hadn't even chimed in.
This was a time of crisis! He needed his crew ...
Aria, from tactical, squinted. Rather alarmed. The captain was, for all intents and purposes, starting to crack. Suddenly, swiftly ... and why? Was he not, now, mated to Audrey? Surely, she'd been a balm to him ...
... so, why so agitated? Was it truly the no-showing ...
... or something else?
"Hail them again. Weapons lock?"
"Already done," Aria said, paws dancing on her controls. "Shall I fire a warning shot?"
"Yes," the mouse breathed, squinting at the viewer.
And a bright, plum-colored stream of light stabbed into the endless night. Missing the human ship by ... a good twenty feet. Or less. A close call.
"No response. Still," Audrey whispered, "no response."
"Sir!" shouted Aria, detecting a sudden, furious spike in energy readings. Mistaking it for ... weapons fire. From them. But ...
... the viewer lit up. Violently. Fire and metal. Hull decompressions.
Ross blinked and stepped forward. Muzzle open. He shook his head, as if pained. The ship ...
" ... is gone, sir. It's all gone," Audrey announced.
Advance blinked. And blinked again. "What ... "
"They initiated," Aria said quietly, running some scans, "their self-destruct sequence." She sighed and looked up. "Apparently, whatever they had on that ship ... was far too valuable to be captured."
"Dammit," Advance whispered. Very, very quietly.
"I think this mystery just got a bit more ... convoluted," Aria offered aloud, filling the silence.
"You think?" Advance whispered back, turning away from the viewer. Going back to his chair. Delicately sitting. Staring blankly at the bulkhead. Before blinking and fidgeting with his tail.
Aria and Audrey waited for further orders.
"Let's, uh ... go back," Advance said, "from where we, uh, started."
"Our original course?" Audrey asked.
"Yeah. Yeah ... and leave buoys, Sub-Commander," he said, to Aria, "along the way. To warn any furry ships that humans HAVE been sighted in this area. Their intent is ... not entirely," he whispered, "known. But, if seen, they are to the considered a threat."
The snow rabbit nodded. And tapped at her controls. Looking to her side, and blinking, whispering (to Ross), "Are you okay?"
A quiet nod. "Yeah ... I ... that ship brought me out here. They did this to me. They're gone, and ... "
The snow rabbit nodded quietly. "Now you are trapped."
Ross looked up. "I didn't mean that," he whispered.
"It is okay. I understand the feeling," she confessed. And she did. During the war (between the snow rabbits and Arctic foxes), she'd been taken prisoner. She'd been ... the foxes, they'd ... she shuddered, dissolving the memory.
Ross looked to her with concern. Seeing her pelt twitch a bit.
A stabilizing breath. "I am fine," Aria offered. "I will take care of you."
Ross smiled shyly, starting to whisper ...
" ... you two," interrupted Advance, padding toward them. He was twitching. Not in the best frame of mind. His mouse tail with short, fuzzy furs on it. His ears larger than Ross's. His eyes very pale. One didn't have to be TOLD Advance was a desert mouse. One could guess it quite easily. But the Captain never, ever discussed the desert. Or his youth there. Not even with Audrey (yet) ...
Aria looked to Audrey. For assistance. The squirrel nodded and left her station.
"I understand," Advance said loudly, "that it's furry tradition to fuck on the job, but in FUTURE, could we ... "
"Advance," whispered Audrey. She put her paws on his arm, stopping him.
The desert mouse blinked. Turned to his mate. Who was using his name, not rank ... and he almost snapped at HER ... until he caught himself. And until he drooped a bit. Until he flushed hard, and ... " ... I, uh ... " The mouse cleared his throat and swallowed, nodding. Nodding quietly. Not looking Aria or Ross in the eye, but whispering, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that ... you showed up when I asked. It's ... you're furs. I understand. I ... " A nod. A breath. And he filtered away.
Audrey followed him, bushy squirrel tail flickering slightly. And she put her paws on his shoulders with concern. Massaging them lightly.
The mouse shook his head.
But she kept doing it. Whispering something into his ear.
The mouse swallowed and closed his eyes. And nodded lightly.
The squirrel leading him into his ready room ...
... leaving just Aria, Ross, and two other furs on the bridge (one at helm ... and one at Ops, filling in for Advent and Herkimer).
The snow rabbit and vole exchanged quiet glances.
"Does, uh," Ross finally asked. "Um ... stuff like this always happen around here?"
"I do not think the Captain has ... been intimate," the snow rabbit confided, "in the past twenty-four hours."
"They went in their to have sex ... yiff, I mean. They went in there to yiff, then," Ross corrected. It was hard to remember that furs called it yiff. But, really, yiff sounded better. Gentler. Cuter. Nicer. Yiff. Yiff, he repeated to himself (in his head). "I wasn't just ... assuming that. They're actually doing it?"
"Yes."
"So ... " Ross's eyes darted a bit. He frowned in thought. "So, as ... soon as he gets yiffed, he'll be better?"
"I wouldn't go as far as to make the claim that our Captain's psychological issues will be entirely dulled by a good breeding ... however," Aria said, ears straight and slender, and nose sniffing a bit ... " ... yiff, to furs, is like sleep. Like food. Like air. A daily dose is vital for optimal health. Else, one starts to break down." A head tilt. "His irritability will greatly subside, yes, by the time he emerges. I doubt the missing officers will receive even the slightest verbal warning ... once Audrey 'mellows' him."
Ross blinked, a bit taken aback. "Wow ... and ... and how come Audrey wasn't as frazzled? They're mates, so if HE didn't yiff, then how come ..."
"She'd been pawing herself only an hour ago. It's not so much the YIFF," Aria stressed, "that the furry body needs. It's the orgasms. But the best orgasms come through yiff, so one GREATLY prefers it. It's both more pleasurable and romantic ... when you're doing it with another fur. However, if the situation is desperate enough, a fur will resort to pawing him or herself."
"Pawing? Like ... masturbating?" he whispered, eyes darting. In human society, sexuality was NOT discussed as casually as this. It was a bit disconcerting.
"Yes. Our squirrel probably did it in the bathroom over there ... did you not smell it on her?"
"Uh ... no, I, uh, am still learning how to use my nose."
"Are not humans the same? In regards to all this ... "
"I wish!" was his awed response. "No. No," he whispered. "Humans often go ... days, weeks ... months ... maybe years, you know, without it." He spoke from experience. He twitched. "We paw, yeah, but ... the yiff part? It's, uh ... harder to find." Voice getting quieter. "We don't seem to hook up and mate as easily as, uh, you do. Love between humans ... real love," he whispered, "is really frustrating. It's been that way for me, anyway." A sad hesitation. "I guess we're not as well-adjusted as you are." A bewildered whisker-twitch. "I can't believe any of this ... no wonder my people want your bodies."
"Our," Aria corrected.
Ross blinked.
"Our," she said again, eye-smiling, "bodies. You have fur, do you not?"
"Ah ... yes," Ross whispered. And he smiled at that.
"Um ... thank you," Herkimer whispered, checking himself out in a mirror.
"Shouldn't be thanking me," Welly replied. "Thank Opal. She's your guardian angel ... or cow. Whichever."
The grey-furred mouse nodded slightly. "I'm, uh ... hope the Captain's not mad. That we didn't go to the bridge, I mean." The skunk had already promised not to tell the Captain about ... Advent's abuse of him. As had Opal. "I don't want a reprimand on my permanent record." A twitch.
"Well, the human ship destroyed itself. According to the bridge tie-in ... over there," he said, nodding at one of the computer screens in his opened office. "Anyway, he just needed some tail. I'm sure he's getting it."
"I ... I ... can't stop thinking about Advent. What am I gonna do?"
"For tail, you mean?"
A fierce, flushing nod.
"The simulation room. A mate-less fur's best friend. I, uh ... have some programs," Welly said, going to his desk, fishing about. "It's not the SAME as real tail, I know. It's not a perfect substitude, but it should tide you over ... for a while. Mm ... Arctic Love Pet. I think that's, uh, with ... snow rabbits, actually. Don't tell Aria I have this program, okay?" His eyes were serious.
"I won't." The mouse could see the skunk had a crush on Aria. But had probably been too intimidated by her emotional iciness ... to gun for her. Had gone for Bell-Bell instead, who was a deer, and was VERY fun-loving and emotional. But the skunk still lusted over the snow rabbit ...
Welly nodded a bit. "Mm ... oh, and there's Arctic Love Pet TWO: The Revenge. Classic." The skunk grinned, showing his teeth, flipping through his programs. "Uh ... "
"Um, no offense, Welly, but, uh ... nothing with slaves or pets. Please?"
"Oh." The skunk winced. "Ooh ... sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Herkimer."
"It's okay," the mouse said, taking a breath, turning around a bit. Welly had healed most of his bruises. They were all gone. And the kink in his tail had been fixed. "Mm ... Bell-Bell know you have yiffy programs?"
"Yeah. I told her. She knows I flirt, too ... didn't HAVE to tell her that one."
"And she doesn't care?"
A small shrug. "As long as I'm committed to her ... as long as I keep our mating vows. To only love and yiff with her. I mean, I talked to her about ... "
"Yeah, but yiffing holograms ... "
"Well, we agreed that I could still do THAT ... ONLY if she's with me." A grin. A wink.
"I don't even wanna know," Herkimer whispered, ears turning rosy-pink. Looking away.
"She's awesome."
"Welly? Please?" A dejected look. Having just lost his mate. Having been nothing more than a pet ... to his now ex-mate. And Welly going on about how great Bell-Bell was. Intimating about holographic orgies ... the mouse shook his head fiercely.
"Oh ... oh, yeah." Another wince. "Sorry."
"I just ... please," the mouse whimpered, slinking to a med bed. Taking a seat. His foot-paws not quite reaching the floor.
"Sorry, mousey."
Herkimer's eyes watered. "I don't know ... I feel like such an idiot."
The skunk hesitated. Wishing he could comfort the mouse. But not knowing, really, how to do so. Male mice were so ... emotional. Rather effeminate. The skunk, who was ALL male, felt a bit ... uncomfortable, really, with that. Male skunks were the brash types. Not the wispy types. But he tried his best to help his friend.
"She's gonna beat me. She's gonna kill me." The mouse started to shake, hanging his head, burying his muzzle in his paws. Starting to sob.
"Hey ... hey, buddy, no. No," the skunk assured, hesitating before hugging the mouse. "Hey, now stop, okay?"
The mouse sniffled.
"I'm gonna ask Aria to keep a very close eye on Advent."
"Doesn't Aria ALWAYS keep a very close eye on Advent?" A sniffle.
"An extra, EXTRA close eye on her, okay?"
"We both serve on the bridge. I'm gonna have to see her every day!" The mouse's nose and whiskers sniffed and twitched. His tail snaked. "I ... she thinks she OWNS me! She still thinks I'm her prey ... she's gonna kill me!"
"Whoa, whoa ... breathe, Herkimer! Come on ... you've having a panic attack."
The mouse, starting to hyper-ventilate, gripped the edge's of the med bed.
Welly darted for a hypo, fiddled with some injection tubes, and came back, pressing the hypo to the mouse's neck. It hissed. And the mouse relaxed.
"It's a bit of a sedative," Welly explained. "Should loosen you up."
The mouse took a deep breath. Swallowed. Nodded.
"Are you listening to me?" the skunk asked. "Look at me ... "
The mouse did so. Having trouble keeping eye contact, but ... doing it.
"You listening?"
Herkimer nodded.
"I am NOT," the skunk stressed, "going to let that jaguar lay a PAW on you. She's been using you. Abusing," the skunk continued, "you. Destroying your confidence. She's a predator. And predators HUNT prey. To her, you're not a bright, intelligent fur. You're just mouse meat. And you know what?"
"What?" the mouse whispered, sniffling.
"She's wrong. Cause you're more than that. And you deserve more, and ... " The skunk trailed, sighing. "Don't hound yourself, okay, because you got seduced ... you made a mistake," Welly admitted. "We all make them. The important thing is," he stressed to his friend, "is that you KNOW it. And learn from it. And don't make it again."
"I won't," Herkimer whispered.
"It'll be tempting, though. You know that? You're a mouse. Your natural instinct is to be very submissive. But the relationship you were in ... was not JUST submissive. You were a pet. Not a mate. You were a toy. Not an equal." A pause. "Just ... you'll want to go back to her."
"I ... I ... "
"I know, after what she did to you, you hate yourself, and ... but you'll want her back."
"Why?" His eyes watered. His whiskers drooped. "Why do I wanna go back to her? After how she's made me feel ... "
"Because you're a dependent. Mice, more than almost any other furry species ... as a mouse, you're almost entirely dependent on others," Welly whispered, "to build you up. She's a very strong, graceful, fiery fur. And when you're WITH her, you get a taste of that. It makes you feel ... alive. Like a drug. But ... there are far better drugs." A pause. "This is WHY predator/prey relationships are a BAD idea. Just remember that, okay? I know you hear about one or two random success stories, but most of them just DON'T work. It's not worth it."
Herkimer, ears swiveling, nodded. "I understand," he whispered blankly.
A breath. A little smile. "So, better drugs," Welly repeated. "One of which is flowing through your veins right now. So ... just keep breathing slowly, and it should keep you calm. Might make you a bit drowsy, but that should pass."
A small nod. "Thank you," was the mouse's whisper.
"You're welcome," the skunk said, smiling warmly. Squeezing the mouse's arm. "You gonna be okay? You wanna stay here?"
"Could I?" he asked. "I'm afraid to leave. I ... what if I run into Advent in the corridors. I wanna stay with you."
The skunk flushed. Feeling ... well, humbled. Touched. That the mouse trusted him like that. And Welly smiled, still flushing, "Sure, bud. You can stay with me."
A sniffle. "Can I hug you?"
"Uh ... I'm, uh ... not really one for guy-hugs."
"Oh."
"But, hey ... come 'ere." And the skunk hugged Herkimer.
The mouse breathed deep and closed his eyes. And hugged back. Arms and paws around the skunk's back. And, after a few seconds, he let the skunk go. And he smiled. "I feel a lot better," he said, voice very delicate. Still fragile. He'd had a rough day.
"Well, you can sleep on one of the med beds, if you'd like. There's a food processor," Welly said, "in my office, if you're hungry. I gotta do a bit of work. I wanna wrap up early ... "
The mouse nodded. And laid down, curling into a fetal-like position.
Welly lingered. And then moved off.
And Herkimer, eyes closed, breathed slowly, slowly. The hypo injection making him feel real calm. Heavier, sleepier, and ...
... out like a light.
Advance drew a breath. Short, baited ... waiting. Holding it.
Audrey laid still (beneath him, on the couch).
"Ah ... ah," the desert mouse squeaked, still holding it. His breath ragged. Drawing himself to the very edge of orgasm. Teetering his body and soul in front of bliss. And going statue-still, huffing and willing it away ... and then waiting for a minute. And humping her again, though slowly, with relish.
"Huh," huffed the squirrel, spread-legged. Legs on the backsides of the Captain's. One arm around his neck and upper back. Other arm between their writhing, furry bodies ... so she could lazily rub her clitoris. "Uhhh," she moaned. "Uh."
Advance started squeaking again. His erect mouse-hood, pink and prodding, making a slick-slick sound ... swallowed by her hungry, moist femininity. His bare, furry chest rising and falling atop her freed, lovely breasts. "I ... I like breasts," he panted. Into her ear. Huffing hotly.
"Heh ... huhn ... m-my breasts," she said, giggling airily, "I hope."
"Mm ... mmm, I d-dooo ... ah! Ah," the desert mouse gaped, going stone-still. Swallowing, nose flaring.
The squirrel, huffing with him, left her sensitive clit alone ... to wrap all her limbs around his body. To hold on.
The mouse gritted his teeth a bit, holding his breath. Trying, again, to stave off orgasm. So, so close to it, and ... hold it ... hold it ... he shivered, arching.
Her paws holding him down. "Did you ... ?" she whispered.
A shivery shake of his head. "N-no," he managed. "No ... I ... just pre."
"How many times is that?"
"S-six ... "
"Heh ... mm ... crazy mouse," she cooed. "Just let it go. Let it ... "
"Oh, it feels good ... n-no ... a few more. Few more. My record," the mouse managed, eyes half-open, "is eight."
"Eight brushes?" Brush being the furry slang for ... brushing one's orgasm but NOT having it. "In a row?"
A weak nod. The mouse's body matted with light sweat.
"Who with?" the squirrel whispered.
The mouse flushed.
"I'm not gonna get jealous. Just ... wanna know ... who with?"
A sigh. "My paw."
"Oh." Her turn to flush.
"Yeah, I ... it's easier to control by paw. It's ... so, so hard to ... the willpower to, uh ... that's why I don't wanna stop. I've never lasted this long in a ... "
"Ah ... heh ... " Audrey giggled, taking a deep breath. Smiling and sighing. "Well, just don't short a fuse, okay?"
Advance giggled, exhaling. "Oh ... " He sucked on the fur on her neck. Body atop of hers. Missionary on the couch. "Oh, mouses are MADE of fuses. I got some to spare."
Audrey chittered with amusement. Still holding on.
"I'm sorry," the mouse whispered, staying still. Waiting for the extreme sensitivity to die down a bit. So he could (once more) resume his humping. Ratchet the pleasure up yet ANOTHER notch. "About, uh ... on the bridge. I snapped at everyone."
"You were under pressure," Audrey whispered.
"I ... sometimes, I don't feel like I belong out there. I have doubts. The other prey captains in the fleet, they're all squirrels, rabbits ... you know? I'm the only mouse. Mice aren't MEANT to be in charge. To give orders. We don't have the confidence," Advance whispered, "for it. Don't have the nerve."
"That's not true ... "
"I just, sometimes ... I don't think the crew KNOWS me. They don't GET me. And, because of that, they don't take me seriously."
"Well ... " Her fingers and paws delicately played through the fur of his back. Rubbing the muscles beneath. "Well, maybe that's because you're not very expressive. I mean, right NOW, with me, you're expressing ... uh, expressing very, uh ... but with the others, you kind of close up."
"I don't mean to ... "
"I know." Rubs and hugs. "Mm ... " A sigh. There was nothing more satisfying than having a male's warm body atop of hers. Snug. Strong. To have that mouse-hood buried, filling her ... prodding her. Stirring up such pleasure as it moved. All controlled by his hips. The way the male body could work her own ... oh ... oh ... she started huffing again. And stopped to breathe more softly. Continuing, "Why don't you invite your senior staff for dinner? You and I could cook them something. Or ... we could all play a game in the gym. Or the simulation room. Or have our daily briefings in the mess hall, over breakfast ... instead of in the conference room. You know? There are ways to put yourself out there, to socialize more ... to show them more sides of you. There are WAYS to get closer to your crew. To make them more a family," Audrey explained, "and less a random collection of furs."
The mouse nodded quietly.
"So, uh ... that's part of your frustration. But it can be dealt with. As, uh, for the other part ... "
"Oh, I'm ... think you've taken it all away."
She giggled. "I tried to get you in here, like, four hours ago. I kept walking over to you, handing you those computer pads. Brushing my tail at your nose."
"Oh ... "
"I was being playful. All you had to do was say, 'oh, yes ... I was waiting for these ... let's look at them in my office'."
A giggle from the mouse. "Rather obvious, don't you think?"
"The crew wouldn't care. You know that. They'd tease us, but ... "
"Yeah ... well, we need a signal. An unmistakable sign. Like a paw gesture or a system of blinks, you know, so that ... if we need to yiff, we'll know."
"Hmm ... " The squirrel thought, her back sinking into the couch cushions. So warm. And her tail trailing, a bit, to the floor. Her whiskers twitched. "Hmm ... how 'bout this. How 'bout this. We clasp our paws, and put them behind our back. So both paws are on our neck. And then we stretch."
"Rather complicated. I was hoping for a signal more, uh ... simple."
"Well, we don't want it TOO obvious. Yeah?"
"Yeah ... you're right on that."
"Well, we'll come up with something later. It's ... I, uh ... kinda fuzzy right now."
"I know," he panted, licking his own lips (and then licking hers). "Oh ... know what you mean ... mm ... well, I went a day without it. I ... I should've communicated with you better."
"You should've pawed. When I went to the bathroom, I pawed. Every time I was in there, in fact."
"With just your fingers?"
"All I had. Toys hidden in your uniform ... tend to bulge. Anyway, fingers were enough. It ... pawing with your paw. Kinda fitting."
"Alright ... alright," Advance breathed. "Yiff-deprivation leads to sluggish response times, irritability, and ... Lord knows what else. I've seen the light, darling. I ... I'll never let it happen again."
"I should hope not," she breathed, mouthing his neck. "Oh ... please, don't put yourself in that situation again. Just ... order me to bed, darling, if you must. Oh, but only," she said cheekily, "as a last resort."
"Well, yiff-deprivation is a pretty desperate ... situation. The last resort is often the best cure."
"Indeed. Indeed," Audrey agreed.
Advance giggled.
And Audrey sighed. Hugging. "But, seriously ... in all seriousness, darling, please. You're a good captain. You just gotta be more assertive. Spend more time with your crew. Show your emotions better. Just takes time. And the yiff ... I'm your mate. That's part of what I'm here for. To love you. Emotionally AND physically. There's a reason most furs need two orgasms a day. It's a NEED. Key word. The furry body is ... "
"I don't need a lecture," the mouse interrupted, flushing a bit. Frowning. "You sound like a doctor." A sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I ... I'll apologize to the bridge crew. And, yes, I'll work at being more outgoing. And ... let's just fuck," he whispered airily. "Please ... "
"You're the one who started yappin' ... "
"Oh ... huh, well ... huhn ... the yappin' stops HERE," he grunted, starting to hump again. "Oohhh," he sighed, nodding against her neck. Head touching hers. He caught his breath. His penis, just over five inches, sheath-less, and a perfect, fleshy pink ... so hard and sensitive. And soaked with femme juice. Making his desperate, little motions so easy, so easy, oh, so easy to make ... this was so perfect. Mm ... " ... oh, and ... and I reaally dooo ... love your breasts," he groaned. Feeling them against his chest-fur. Feeling her hardened nipples. "Lemme suckle," he managed.
"Heh ... uhn ... rather hard in your current position."
"N-no ... tonight. In bed."
"S-sure," she breathed. "But ... but darling?" A swallow.
"Mm?"
"Uhnn," she moaned, licking at his lips. Sucking lips. Hot breaths. "You ... you gonna break your brushing record?"
A whimper-squeak. An inhale. A weak shake of the head. "No," he admitted. "I don't think ... think I can last two more ... I need three to reach nine."
"We can try ... another," she huffed, "time, darling."
"Y-you promise?"
A sweaty, eyes-closed grin, and a nod. "I know how ... how proud males are of their penises. I know how much you ... l-love yiff. I love it, too ... me and my pussy will," she said, starting to giggle, "be more than happy to help you break your record. Time," she promised, "and time again."
"Thanks," the mouse beamed, holding her tight.
Audrey giggled.
"What?" A blink.
"You're so cute," was her whispered answer, kissing him ... " ... mm ... "
Advance, drawing in air, sighed. "J-just hold on, girl ... hold on, girl ... " His slender, mousey body, colored tan, wheat, amber ... his mix-colored fur, and his desert senses ... in motion. Moving, moving. Hump, hump ...
... and her brown-furred, rodent form rocked beneath him. "Uh," she gasped, head sinking into a pillow. And his head nuzzling hers. His pleasure-moans in her ear.
Her vagina slurped, slurped ... with each push of his penis. As if her body was trying to milk him. Trying to suck his semen, his male's milk ... oh, her velvet, oven-hot pouch of muscle. Pussy! With every gyration and motion of his hips, he squirmed and panted with a new kind of pleasure. Pulling back. Pushing in. Harder, faster, just ... doing it. Just doing it. Just going. Oh, yes ... yes, yes ... oh, this made life SO good ... oh, femmes. "Ohhh, Auuud ... Aud," he huffed.
And, as he bred with instinctual abandon, and as his pitches shifted to high squeaks, the squirrel gasped. Held on. Paws on his shoulder blades. Belly rising and falling beneath his. The weight of him. The warmth. Sweat matting her fur. Her forehead damp. "Uh ... uh." And her angular, cocked ears ... hearing her name. How he breathed her name. How he could only close his eyes and hump. And let the pleasure build. And breathe her name.
The mouse, growing erratic, and having teased himself by brushing the edge of this freewheeling pleasure ... so many times ... he didn't stop and go still this time. Didn't grit his teeth and veer away from it. He kept going. Higher, higher ... squeak! Spurt, spurt ... twitch-twitch ... body in spasms. Body flopping atop of hers, no longer able to buck. As cock unloaded fiercely. Finally! Oh ... oh! "Yesss," he squeaked, almost hissing it. "Ohh, unn ... nmm ... " His eyes watered shut, lips parted. Ears burning. The pleasure sizzling from nose to tail-tip. He held, lovingly, desperately ... to her body. And let it wash over him.
Audrey clutched him as he came. As he squeaked. And, chittering, she joined him. The force of his release, and the sound and feel of it, and ... the anticipation ... everything. Too much, too much! Overwhelming her, and paralyzing her with heated pussy-spasms. With flutters and fierce twitches of her muscles. Her feminine parts. Squirting a bit of fluid from the source, and head falling to the side, muzzle open ... long, sustained chitters. "Ohhh! Uhh, nm ... " A deep breath. "Mm," was the whimper. Pleasure. Oh, wow. Oh, yes!
And, soon ... the two furs were spent.
And, suddenly, were drowsy.
"Should we ... sleep in here?" Advance asked.
"Is the door locked?"
A quiet, squeaky nod.
A smile from her. And her eyes closed. And him still inside her. And she hugged tight, warm, sweaty ... smelling of fur. Of mouse. "Mm ... if we're needed, let 'em knock." But she doubted they would hear it.
For they were both being tugged toward a deep sleep.
Oh, post-yiff rest! This kind of rest was truly ...
... the best.