Grasp of Shame
#7 of Dreamer
The following is erotic in nature. Read at your own discretion.
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Grasp of Shame
* * *
Pride struggled against the shackles that bound her wrists and ankles, lithe, gymnast's body helplessly dangling above foul water in a cave she had just escaped. Last time she had been saved by Michael and the nightmare's inattentiveness. This time she was alone. She growled and renewed her efforts against her bonds, shouting in frustration when she only managed to rub her wrists and ankles raw against the rusty shackles. She might be a captive without any aid except her own resolve, but she would NOT give up and dangle complacently.
Cruel laughter came from in front of her. When she looked, given her position, Pride saw an upside down view of the nightmare laughing. It was a lioness like herself, clapping her hands in sarcastic applause. The only visible difference between Pride and the lioness before her was their eyes. The nightmare's were the glistening black of onyx.
"By all means, keep trying," the nightmare taunted when Pride stopped struggling to glare at her. "You can't imagine how hot you are when you work yourself into a lather." When Pride made no move to renew her struggles, her mirror image shrugged and walked closer, standing beside her and leaning an elbow on her chest like it was a desk top, resting her chin in her hand and regarding Pride from between the captive lioness's upraised arms. "You know, real cats can't sweat anywhere except on their noses. The she-wolf only gave your whole body sweat glands because she knew it would make Michael horny." She looked down at Pride's breasts and made a show of inhaling deeply. "Mmm, and it works, doesn't it, my dear?"
Pride tried to snap a flippant retort at her smirking reflection, but found herself unable to speak.
The nightmare grinned. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue? I suppose I do," she answered her own question. "And a rough one it is, too. Care to feel?" She leaned down and began licking Pride's bust.
Seizing the opportunity, Pride yanked her entire body upward by suddenly bending her elbows and knees to use her own rib cage to bludgeon the nightmare's short muzzle. As soon as she made the move, though, her twin was suddenly in front of her face again instead of beside her, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "Shame on you, Pride. Shame. That wasn't very nice at all. It doesn't surprise me, though. Not in the least." She took her hands from behind her back and held a familiar object above Pride's face. "Not coming from a mind so twisted and depraved that it is proud of creating something like this." It was the carved wooden replica of Michael's pegasus member. The nightmare held it by its tip and tapped its solid balls against the side of Pride's face. "You fancy yourself an artist, don't you, kitten? Well, look around you, you poor pervert." The torch light flared to reveal the rest of Pride's sculptures scattered throughout the cavern. Each of them had grown to be a life sized wooden representation of Michael having sex with one of his dreams in one of his forms or another. Some Pride had watched herself. Others hadn't actually happened yet, but were the products of her imagination. The nightmare shook her head scornfully. "Pride, Pride, Pride, you're nothing more than a pornographer. It disgusts me that for all your pretentious name, you can't produce anything above scenes of our Michael's basest nature." She walked around the captive, gliding the carved genitals over Pride's pelt as she went, and stopped at her helplessly upraised legs. "I suppose it's not really your fault, though. You were created with no purpose other than to satiate Michael's warped desires. The way in which the she-wolf named you is just a cruel joke." She wrapped the arm holding the wooden horse penis around Pride's legs and forced the carving's tip between her thighs against her lower belly. She moved it as though having sex with Pride's legs. "I wonder what your next carving would have looked like," the nightmare said idly. Another life sized sculpture appeared to Pride's right, this made of marble rather than wood. "This, perhaps?" It was a perfect recreation of Michael in dragon form with his erection half buried in a weeping raccoon girl's anus. "Or maybe this?" A second marble statue materialized on Pride's other side, this of a dragon wrapped around a cringing rabbit. Michael's sculpted mouth was over Innocence's carved breast, and he was piercing both of her entrances with his immense penis and slender tail. "That's what lies at the heart of Michael's desire," the nightmare said contemptuously. "His need to dominate, to force others into submission." Pride could do nothing but snarl and glare at her twin. She reassured herself that the nightmare wouldn't know truth if it bit her. That was why Pride was here and not Honesty: the nightmare thought Pride was easier prey.
Pride intended to show her how complete a mistake she'd made.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Her twin poked her in the stomach with the wooden member. "I'm afraid I can't let you keep your head buried in the sand of wishes and excuses, kitten. Haven't you noticed?" She glanced over to the stone statue on Pride's left. "You're being held in exactly the same position as Innocence was." Pride followed her reflection's gaze and froze when the marble dragon's slitted eyes looked up at her from where its head was above the rabbit's bust. The dragon moved, then, sliding out of the carved rabbit and dropping it before walking slowly toward the two lionesses. Pride saw the two gaping holes of the stone rabbit's vagina and anus an instant before it landed in the cavern's shallow water and shattered.
The nightmare was suddenly in front of Pride's face again, grinning down at her. "I won't lie to you, kitten, this won't be pleasant. But it's for your own good. You need to learn what you really are so that you can begin to make amends." Two points of something wet tickled the indentation in Pride's rump just below the base of her tail-or just above it, considering her position. She tried to squirm away from the touch, to shove it aside with her tail and protect herself, but her body wouldn't obey her commands. She yelped involuntarily when the forked tongue thrust an inch into her tail hole before leaving her. No sooner was that contact gone than she felt powerful talons wrap around her calves. It felt like her feet were being torn off by the shackles around her feline ankles when the dragon used her legs to heft its weight off the cave floor. Cold water drizzled down her fur from his talons to her bottom. Its weight finally lifted off her when it climbed on up the chain rising above her feet. Looking down her body, she could see the stone colored dragon nearly standing upright behind her. It was huge.
She tensed and whimpered when something long, wide, and very hot rubbed against the backs of her thighs. It wasn't a reaction she expected herself to make. When she tried to curl her long tail beneath her to put something between the beast and herself, it merely dangled limply beneath her, its tip dipping in the cold water. The dragon suddenly stopped moving, and the throbbing heat against her thighs suddenly chilled to clammy stone. "Can't have you ruining the experience, kitten," the nightmare said in the momentary stillness. "You're going to go through exactly what Innocence experienced at the whim of our beloved Michael. It's the only way to show you what you really are." Heat returned to the huge muscle against Pride's legs, and the dragon resumed reaching for the chain that held her wrists as though it had never been interrupted. It's heavy body swung down and hit her left side like a freight train. Its huge head watched her from only a foot or two above her face, its gaze traveling up and down her body. She could see one of its marble legs jutting out to the right, and its stone colored tail lashed back and forth behind it. She felt something hot nudge her mound, and bit her lower lip, then gasped and held her breath as its pressure forced her nether lips to spread wide and it began burrowing into her. When Michael had paired with her, she'd felt nothing but pleasure, even when he'd tried to force his canine knot into her tail hole, but this HURT! It was working its way into her with sharp little jabs, each little thrust pushing itself just a tiny bit deeper.
Then its immense tip met something inside her that Pride had never felt before. The dragon gripped a talon around her shoulder as its erection stretched that internal barrier painfully inward. The lioness cried out, agony slicing through her abdomen, down her legs and up her torso as something ruptured within her. Her clawed toes curled as her legs convulsed. The pain was so powerful that she was certain she'd soon lose consciousness. Tears soaked her brown furred cheeks, but she didn't notice. Already the dragon was burying the rest of itself into her. It began rocking its hips, slowly sliding its gigantic penis in and out of her before her loins were able to recover from its intrusion. The lioness rocked back and forth with the beast wrapped around her. Her eyes opened, but she couldn't register anything in her vision, so completely did the pain coursing through her groin absorb her attention. She felt its large, scaled head push between her upraised arms, and something long, warm, and wet wrapped around the perimeter of her left breast. It tightened around her soft flesh, squeezing so that her mammary perked up and away from her rib cage. Large fangs pinched her nipple an instant before leathery lips closed around her breast, halfway between its captive tip and the tongue circling its rim. Hot breath dampened the fur of her chest with its own moisture and the sweat it induced. Then it began suckling.
Pride was more concerned with the broad shaft ripping through her vaginal tunnel. Now that the dragon was settled in, it began to move more quickly. Every now and then her legs would tense uncontrollably, lifting her rump and the beast ravaging it when her legs instinctively tried to spread until the dragon's weight forced her back down. If it was possible, its penis had actually grown while inside her. It was as hard as the marble it appeared to be carved from now, but as hot as a torch being stuffed into her. Its lunges were becoming ever more urgent. Her left breast only jiggled within the dragon's lips, but her right rippled up and down her chest with its movements. Each time she tried to gasp a breath it was ripped from her by one of his ruthless, puncturing intrusions. Its breath wafting the fur around her chest felt like it was coming from a furnace. She was certain her nipple must be bleeding each time its razor sharp fangs tugged at it. She cried out when a particularly powerful lunge rocked her body.
A few thrusts later she felt something pointed trace up her tail to its base, then stop when it reached the indentation just above it. She looked down at the dragon with wide, tear filled eyes, but it was facing the other direction with its mouth around her breast. Her eyes were as wide as they could go, but inwardly she was glaring. She could take it.
After a prolonged moment of painful humping, the dragon slid its member swiftly out of her and rammed his tail into her anus at the same time, but when the tail was only two inches into her tail hole, it froze, becoming cold marble once again. Able to control her movements once more, Pride writhed until three points of pain forced her to seethe motionless. The statue's fangs were pinning her nipple; moving made it feel like it would tear it off the tip of her breast. And its petrified member was still partially inside her, her loins stretched wide by its girth, with its tail pinching two inches of muscle between her anus and vagina. She was completely helpless, the shallow, gasping pants of her breathing enough movement to keep the pain lancing through her body.
The nightmare walked down her side, squeezing her free breast briefly before laying her hand on Pride's waist. "This is the moment that defines you, kitten." She was looking down at the lioness's groin, where she was doubly pierced by slabs of marble. The nightmare traced her fingers around Pride's painfully stretched vagina. "I can understand this, even if I don't approve of the vile instincts that drove Michael to do it. He saw a helpless little female and didn't hesitate in sticking his cock in her. But what could have possibly inspired this?" Her fingertips began circling Pride's anus around the carved stone tail beginning to puncture it. "Was it simple malice, do you think? No, I'll never be able to convince you of that, will I? We both know Michael has malice in him, but it won't emerge unless something else brings it to its surface. So whatever could have put this idea in his head?" She teased the fur at the base of Pride's tail with her sharp claws. "I was listening to his thoughts during this whole shameful ordeal, you know. Guess what went through his mind right before he did this. 'I want a challenge.'" One of the nightmare's fingers squirmed into Pride's anus beneath the cold marble tail, sparking more pain. "You see, simply screwing Innocence nearly to death was too easy for dear Michael, even while milking her at the same time. But if he could screw her twice at once, now, that would be quite the accomplishment, wouldn't it?" She yanked her finger out of Pride's tail hole and leaned on her hand against the captive lioness's lower belly, increasing the pressure of her body around the huge stone slab inside her. "Something to be proud of," she said slowly, smirking up at Pride's face past the statue's head over her chest. "You, dear kitten, are what drove Michael to this extra violation, this added torture against Innocence. If not for you, he would have let it pass as a simple rape, but because of you, he took humiliation to a new level. That is what is at the heart of pride's nature." She stepped back and walked into the shadows. "All because of you, kitten, this is what Innocence will always remember when she looks at Michael."
The dragon's tail finished its intrusion, the penis its exit. Pride arched her back, screaming, plastering her breast against the dragon's lips, then sagged in submission while the dragon's tail and erection tore back and forth through her. Tears were dripping down her furred cheeks and the back of her head, but their tiny splashes in the water beneath her couldn't be heard over the dragon's scaled belly thudding into her thighs, over its hot breaths rumbling deep in its chest, over Pride's agonized sobs. Milk sprayed out of her nipple when it was tugged between its fangs, and the dragon used all the strength in its tongue to squeeze her breast in a pulsing rhythm to match its tail's and penis's merciless lunges, draining her mammary of its milk. A heavy talon clutched her shoulder just before its pointed tail and solid member rammed into her at the same time. The cylindrical bulge of its penis coursing up from her groin past her tan furred belly button was much more pronounced; it felt like the tail inside her was trying to push her spine out of the small of her back. The twin violations retreated only to slam into her again, knocking the breath from her lungs, then again. Her vision swam. Her ears rang. It felt like she was dying. Pride counted three more of the simultaneous thrusts before all feeling vanished from her waist down, then a throbbing ache replaced the agony. She realized the dragon had resumed its alternating pattern of thrusts between penis and tail, but only felt it as pins and needles compared to the double puncturing of a moment ago.
Had she caused Michael to do that to Innocence, too?
The dragon pulled at her nipple several times after it had exhausted her supply of milk before letting her breast relax against her ribs, only to replace its coiled tongue with its teeth, opening its jaws wide to bite the sphere of flesh around its base so that it was squeezed up completely inside its mouth. Its narrow tongue mashed against her soft flesh, swirling all around I inside the dragon's mouth, making it bounce beyond the quaking sent through it from Pride's trembling body. She could feel liquid streaming down her sinuous tail. Despite her torment, the lioness's body responded to the onslaught of violent sensation the only way it could. Her back arched again, and her loins rippled in a flurry around the dragon's massive erection.
An instant after her orgasm began, Pride found herself on all fours in the cold cavern water. Something held her by the waist and was pulling her to her feet even while her vagina quaked around sudden emptiness. Her slender tail clamped between her legs, but something large and hot forced it aside near its base. The dragon's leathery stomach against her back forced Pride to remain bent over. A series of impacts crashed against her round bottom; it felt like someone was using her rump as a punching back. Someone very strong. One of those punches landed directly against her battered anus, and the following two hit the same spot. The bestial roar from above her was loud enough that it should have brought the cave down on top of them as the fourth punch carried that fist into her, and she screamed again. Without hesitation the dragon began humping her, its broad shaft tearing through her body behind her continuing orgasm. She had to keep hopping as each of its lunges knocked them forward; if she didn't keep her weight on her feet, she would be dangling with her rump locked to the dragon's pelvis. Once the cave wall was only a foot or so in front of Pride's face, the dragon stopped moving forward. A huge talon grasped the back of her neck, further dominating her, pushing her body back against each of its thrusts. Milk and draconic saliva flung from her left breast as it swung beneath her. She reached back and grabbed her rump, trying to spread her buttocks enough to somehow make her body stretch and stop fighting, but it was a futile effort. Each of the dragon's entries pierced her newly closed insides as violently and painfully as its first lunge. It was humping so quickly now that Pride felt nothing more than an agonizing blur, like someone had poured acid into her bottom. She felt hot liquid fill her, then the dragon slid fully out of her, resting its incredibly hot, wet tip in the collapsed indentation between her buttocks and below her tail. The dragon had finished. The nightmare was over. Pride wailed a sob of mixed despair and relief-
The talon around her neck pulled her back against a re-entry that knocked her unconscious for a short, blessed moment, but its ruthless, orgasmic humping didn't permit her the reprieve of oblivion. Steam rose from the flood of semen that poured out of her stretched anus. Each of the dragon's stabs were preceded by a vast spray that filled her completely, only to be immediately forced back out of her in a circular splash around its erection and sheath that drenched them both. Its lunges became slower, more deliberate, and Pride moaned at the sensation of the sticky lubrication sliding in the opposite direction through her body as the powerful intrusions. From fully inside her, it began a terribly slow removal, every inch that it vacated filling with the final spurts of its burning seed. When only its throbbing tip was plugging her tail hole, keeping its sperm inside her, that wide head lost its heat and became chilled marble again. Mounted by a statue instead of by a living creature, Pride was no less ensnared. Its stone talon around her neck kept her from moving.
Then, impossibly, a second erection parted the folds of her vagina and crashed through her loins until a pair of solid testicles slammed against her mound. She shrieked in undignified, surprised pain. The nightmare was crouched beside her legs, holding the carved wooden pegasus penis fully inside her while the draconic statue and its sperm still filled her other internal tunnel. "This was the only way, kitten," the nightmare said, twisting the carved member back and forth. "You had to know. You are the cause of what happened to Innocence and Mischief. It is your fault they both experienced . . . this." With the pegasus member still violating her loins, Pride felt the reawakened dragon shove its own penis into her flooded anal canal in a sperm-spraying lunge that was so forceful that her awareness of everything else erupted in an explosion of sight, sound, smell and touch. She knew that the nightmare and the beast had finally killed her.
* * *
Michael awoke slowly from a serene, dreamless sleep to a quiet chorus of slumbering breaths. He didn't move as he gradually regained consciousness, not even to open his eyes. He lay still, luxuriating in the feel of the three small, sleeping females cuddling him. After he'd bred each of them, they'd huddled together on the carpet, sharing each other's warmth in the still chilly room. This house was always cold in winter, Michael knew, no matter how much the furnace worked. Lying on his side again, Virtue and Passion were leaning back against his stomach and chest, resting in each other's arms, while Crea sprawled over his back and neck, her arm draped over his shoulder. He didn't want to disturb any of them, so he pretended he was still asleep as well.
He was fairly surprised his dreams COULD sleep. Apparently having sex with him only gave them nourishment similar to food and drink, and they still had to take a nap every now and then. He remembered, then, that four of the seven females were still upstairs and hadn't "eaten". It was going to be a busy day. He wondered if he needed to give all the girls three meals a day, and whether or not having sex seven times as often as each of them was going to make him morbidly obese. Mating with the three females last night hadn't made him feel full or sluggish, like what usually happened when he overate. Maybe because he was so much larger than them, he needed that much more erotic sustenance. Or maybe it didn't work at all like he was imagining.
Passion was the first of the females to stir, when the sunrise's first ray of light landed on her face through the living room's floor-to-ceiling windows. Yawning, she untangled herself from Virtue's long arms and legs and stretched dramatically before kneeling before Michael's face and scratching behind his pointed ears. He opened his eyes to see her beaming a sincere smile down at him. He was amazed at how friendly she was after he'd raped her two sisters-and nearly her as well-in the nightmare only one day ago. The deer behaved as though nothing unpleasant had occurred. Michael had gathered since first meeting her that she, Mischief the raccoon, and Innocence the rabbit couldn't speak. Apparently the nightmare had interrupted Virtue when she was creating the three girls, before she'd given them the ability to speak. They were going to have to learn English the slow way, now that they were in the waking world. Or close enough to the waking world that neither Michael nor Virtue, nor the others, could change their surroundings on a whim or project their memories and skills into the three youngest dreams. Stuck in the form of a horse, Michael couldn't speak, either. He rested his heavy head on Passion's folded legs to show his appreciation, letting her pet him to her heart's content.
Virtue and Crea weren't long in waking up after Passion. The first thing the white vixen did after stretching was tickle Michael's sheath. "Good morning, big guy." He rolled his eyes and nickered at her, but she just chuckled good naturedly and patted his gray and tan flank.
Crea had gone upstairs after silently grooming her mane and tail, and soon returned escorting a shivering Mischief, her golden arm around the smaller raccoon's shoulders. "She is the only one awake so far upstairs," she said quietly, "bust just barely. I think she could use some breakfast." She glanced meaningfully at Michael, and he nodded. He knew what she meant.
At the base of the stairs, Mischief stopped and stared at the stallion laying placidly on his side. Michael tried to appear as calm and harmless as he could, but the raccoon wouldn't have soon forgotten what he'd done to her as a dragon. Crea squeezed the raccoon's arm reassuringly. "Go on. He won't do anything without your permission. It might not be fun at first, but I promise you'll feel much better afterward." Mischief still didn't look at all convinced, but, watching Passion kneeling with Michael's head in her lap, still scratching his ears, she slowly crossed the living room. She squatted beside the deer and put her hand on the side of his wide neck, but she was frowning at his face suspiciously. He was careful to keep his gaze on the raccoon's eyes. Her mask of black fur made her look like a weary bandit.
Passion rubbed the nervous raccoon between her furry shoulder blades soothingly, then stroked her hand down her thick pelt until she was caressing Mischief's bushy tail. The suspicion on the raccoon's face melted into confusion, and she looked at the deer beside her with her head tilted questioningly. Passion leaned over, then, her stomach rubbing against Michael's forehead, and kissed Mischief softly on the lips. The raccoon tensed, eyes wide in surprise, but quickly relaxed as Passion's lips coaxed her guard down. Michael saw both of their jaws lower and knew they were sharing more with each other than only their lips. Mischief moaned into the deer's mouth, her eyes closing, body swaying. Passion had to hug her shoulders to keep her upright. She must have been fatigued beyond exhaustion, Michael realized.
When Passion broke their kiss, she guided Mischief's hand down her fur, over her neck and breast, her chest and abdomen, to her thigh, where the raccoon's hand met Michael's nose. She froze, looking down at Michael again and swallowing. He nuzzled her hand gently, trying to appear friendly and unthreatening. He considered licking her palm, but decided against it. The last time she'd seen his tongue, he'd been using it to violate Innocence's bosom. She finally found the courage to tentatively pet his nose. Passion leaned over and kissed the side of the drowsy raccoon's neck in approval. He could hear Virtue and Crea talking quietly at the base of the stairwell. They were worried that Mischief would lose consciousness before she had a chance to pair with him. And there were three females still sleeping that had to be as fatigued as she was.
Still kissing and licking her neck and shoulder, Passion began massaging the raccoon's full bust. Mischief didn't object; she was cupping Passion's breast already in the hand that wasn't petting Michael's nose. The deer gently lifted his head and scooted out from under him, pulling Mischief beside her and encouraging the raccoon to take her place as his pillow. Michael rested his head on Mischief's soft, furred legs, placing his muzzle directly under her navel. He breathed in her scent coming from between her thighs and sighed contentedly. Passion sat behind her, kissing the other side of her neck now while the fingers of one hand rubbed one of her nipples. Michael couldn't see Passion's other hand, but could guess where it was by the way the raccoon began rocking her hips. Her hands grabbed his ears, and he licked her lower belly while Passion's groping was distracting her.
Mischief took a deep breath, opening her eyes, and let go of Michael's ears to push Passion back, then slid out from under Michael's lap to crawl past his forelegs and chest to his stomach. Her thick tail wasn't lifted, so he could only see the outer curves of her bottom, but even that was enough to make his loins stir. Passion followed her, also on her hands and knees, and her tail was raised high even though it was too small to hide the slit peeking from between her round buttocks were she to lower it. She wiggled her bottom for Michael's benefit before climbing over his hind legs to sit cross-legged behind his rump. After he felt her lift his heavy testicles, a lighter touch stroked the underside of his sheath. It didn't take much more coaxing for him to begin to swell. As soon as his large, round-tipped head emerged from his sheath, it was surrounded by Mischief's lips, the top of her head pressing against his belly. Her hands kept rubbing his sheath, and he could feel her tongue swirling around his tip, her sharp teeth grazing its rounded ridge. Each heartbeat brought him further out of his sheath, and the raccoon soon had to back up lest she choke on his growing member. Eventually she stopped trying to pleasure him the way he'd forced her to as a dragon and sat on her heels, staring at his emerging shaft, her fingers still idly gliding up and down his sheath. Passion was similarly stroking his groin behind his testicles. After a short while, his tan-speckled gray penis was erect and ready, but the raccoon just kept staring at it. Michael shuddered, growing desperate to be inside someone.
Finally, Mischief wrapped her fingers around the barrel of his shaft, testing its hardness. She leaned down and licked the side of it, tasting Michael's exposed skin. While she was bent over, Crea, having walked up behind her, patted her bottom gently. The raccoon's tail lifted away from her rump and, craning his neck to see, Michael got his first view of her vagina. Like the others, there was no evidence of it except the inward sloping curves of her furry mound. The only skin showing on her groin was the small, wrinkled depression beneath her bushy tail. Michael's view was quickly blocked by Crea's golden hand rubbing the soft fur of the raccoon's mound, tracing the length of her soft slit down from her little tail hole. He couldn't believe he'd been able to stretch that indentation enough to fit inside it before. A part of him wanted to try again, but he quickly silenced that voice. He watched as Crea slid two fingers into the raccoon's brown furred vagina, enjoying the hands rubbing his crotch and the tongue licking his trunk until Mischief moved away from Crea's arousing fingers. The raccoon lay on her side against Michael's chest, raising her right leg and resting it on his flank. He could hear her gulp nervously as she brought her stomach up against his own. Crea was there as well, announcing herself with her hand against Michael's hind leg beside the raccoon's knee before reaching beneath Mischief's bushy tail to hold his member. Crea urged Mischief to move down his body a little, position his penis so that its tip nestled in the velvety fur of the raccoon's mound. She swallowed again, and a deep breath plastered her breasts between their two chests. She pushed back a little, building pressure against his tip until her vagina began to open around it. Michael snorted with the effort of not thrusting into her as she hesitated with her furry entrance not quite surrounding his tip's ridge. She dug her fingers in the sleek pelt at the side of his rib cage and pushed back a little more, making small humping motions when he was just a few inches inside her. A muscle in Michael's flank twitched, but he kept himself under control. Crea rubbed his leg soothingly, even while Passion was still stimulating his groin. Mischief inched her way back, but started sliding away from him before surrounding half his length. His haunches twitched again, and he lashed his tail, hitting Passion in the face with its long hair.
Then, while the raccoon began tentatively riding the front half of his erection, Virtue lay down on her side in front of him with her chest inches from his face. She cupped one of her white breasts with one hand while the other caressed his nose, and he licked the soft flesh she held out to him distractedly. Mischief could easily work herself up to an orgasm riding him as she was, but he was pretty certain that would only give him energy. He was going to have to enter her fully in order to give her the energy she needed.
The raccoon froze when he slowly brought his haunches forward, only making his gradual penetration less comfortable by tensing. He didn't stop, though, until his sheath pressed against her stretched mound. He held himself fully inside her while she whimpered; last time he'd tried humping in this position, he'd gotten a terrible rug burn on his side against the carpet. Mischief, though, seemed unable to move at all beyond trembling around him. He began getting awkwardly to his feet. Crea slid beneath them both, lifting the raccoon while he rose and bracing her hands on Mischief's back and her knees beneath her rump while laying with her own back against the carpet. Mischief hugged his barrel chest as best she could while straddling his hind legs. Michael stood still as Passion climbed on top of him, laying face down on his back to clasp hands with her sister, helping Crea to hold her up against his chest. Mischief didn't even seem to be aware they'd moved, only groaning and panting in shallow breaths. Once they were all settled in, Michael started sliding out of her, then back in, and out again, as gently as he could while stretching her body so much more than it wanted to stretch.
Virtue stood in front of him, facing the wall and raising her elegant tail to display her perfect bottom. She draped her tail over his head when he nuzzled her rump, inhaling her aroma. She reached behind her to separate her cheeks, and he licked between them, paying close attention to the crease in her groin just below where a human female's anus would be. When she let go of her rump, her round buttocks closed around his tongue, but he kept licking between them anyway.
He was moving in and out of the raccoon in a slow rhythm, the horse now doing the riding, and his tempo was gaining momentum. He didn't want to lose himself to lust again and hump her with wild abandon, but he knew that was what he was working himself up to. It was too much like what he'd done to her as a dragon, but just like then, he was beyond the point now where he could stop himself.
"Innocence is awake," Crea announced from beneath the skewered raccoon. Virtue stepped away from his tongue and walked back to the stairway behind him. He lowered his head to look below his chest at the raccoon and unicorn. Mischief had her eyes closed and her mouth open, gasping with each of his retreats and whimpering with each of his intrusions. Crea just smiled up at him from underneath the raccoon. He could just see the smooth curves of the unicorn's silver striped bust between her braced arms. When Virtue returned, she was leading a wide eyed rabbit. Innocence stared at Mischief's rump and Michael's thick erection until her view was blocked by his body when the arctic wolf brought her in front of him. Then she stared worriedly at his face.
Under that gaze, Michael slowed his movements inside the raccoon, willing himself to be more gentle. He looked up into the rabbit's beautiful emerald eyes. Beside her, Virtue led her hand to Michael's neck where his long gray and tan mane draped. As drowsy as Mischief had been, Innocence rubbed his neck in a daze. He breathed deeply, slowing his humps even more, and tried again to appear harmless despite being mounted on top of the rabbit's sister. He leaned his face against her arm as she pet his neck. Her white fur was softer than all the others, if that was possible. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in all the sensations the females were giving him. The softly padded palm against his neck. The downy arm against his face. The two bodies sandwiching him. The soft curves of a rump against the front of his sack as he hilted himself in those loins. The new presence of the softest fur imaginable pressing against his nose, and equally soft breast protected behind it. The smooth skin of a small nipple resting against his lips.
His genitals clenched, and the world went black behind his closed eyelids. He didn't need to open his eyes to know that it would be just as dark as when he held them closed. The sensations now coursing through him made sight irrelevant, anyway. What shot from his flexing testicles through his throbbing erection into his gasping raccoon felt every bit as substantial, as tangible as the thickest semen, but he knew it was pure, warm light. With that comforting light filling her, Mischief would now be beyond feeling pain; only pleasure would be left to her. He humped the raccoon vigorously through his orgasm, and after only a few thrusts felt her body answer in kind. Her back arched as her vagina rippled around him, but Crea was somehow able to keep supporting her weight. Michael could hear his sheath and clenched balls thudding against her over the sound of her feminine moans and his own deep pants. The raccoon's bushy tail curled up between their legs, and his sheath and sack rubbed over its silkiness while he humped into her orgasm.
When his thrusts began to falter and light returned to the room, he opened his eyes only to find his mouth opened wide around Innocence's breast. He had the soft orb between his teeth and was licking it forcefully, just as he'd done as a dragon. He hastily pulled his head back, letting it bounce against her chest and resume its natural shape. The white rabbit was staring at him with eyes even wider than before in her surprise. He met her stare, breathing heavily and hoping he hadn't just ruined his relationship with her beyond repair, if he hadn't done that already as a dragon. Crea and Mischief worked together to carefully pull the raccoon away from his shaft and lower her to the floor. One of them began pumping his member while Passion hopped off his back, but he barely noticed.
Innocence absently wiped her bosom with a hand-it was drenched with Michael's saliva-and broke their joined stare to look at the white vixen beside her. She blinked and shook her head as if to clear it, then grabbed Virtue's hand and pulled the vixen back toward the stairs. Michael craned his long neck to watch them leave. He hadn't been able to tell when she'd been chained up in the cave, but the rabbit had a larger butt in relation to the rest of her body than any of the other females. Her small, tufted tail only accented its comparative size. He couldn't make himself look away until she'd gone out of sight up the stairwell.
The hands around his penis stopped pumping when it became clear that it was softening despite their efforts, and both Crea and Mischief crawled out from under him. The raccoon practically danced up to his face on unsteady legs and kissed him on the forehead, then stepped back and grinned at him happily. At least he had managed to win her over. She walked down toward his tail, gliding her fingers down his muscular body and taking in the lay of his shining pelt as though seeing him for the first time. Her bushy tail was raised high, shamelessly displaying her brown bottom while she made her way to Michael's own backside. She wiggled it for him, and Crea slapped it playfully when she walked past the unicorn. Mischief just wiggled all the more.
Once behind him, the raccoon scratched his powerful read end with one hand and stroked his long tail with the other. Michael flexed for her, making the solid muscles in his large rump stand out prominently beneath his sleek gray and tan pelt. She laughed happily and rubbed those muscles, then traced the inside of his left flank down along his groin all the way to the heavy white testicles between his hind legs. She lifted and squeezed both before tracing his other flank back up his crotch. Lifting his tail, she plunged her finger unexpectedly into his large tail hole. He neighed and tossed his head in indignant surprise, stepping forward to free himself of her finger before turning to face her warningly. She batted her eyelashes at him and pointed her finger at Passion, who was standing a few feet away, laughing. Michael snorted and glared at her, though he wasn't really angry. He'd raped her anally the first time they'd met, after all. If anything, she seemed to be trying to make light of that. The raccoon grinned at his glare, then swiftly pulled Passion closer and squeezed the startled deer's breast, making sure Michael's eyes were on Passion's chest before shoving the doe toward him and escaping up the stairwell. Mischief nearly ran into Virtue halfway up the stairs as the vixen was making her way down them.
"It's Pride," Virtue said calmly, though worry was all too evident behind her eyes. "Something's wrong."
Without hesitation, Crea and Passion followed her back upstairs, leaving Michael alone in the living room. He waited impatiently for some time. Just when he decided to hazard the trip up the stairs himself, Crea and Mischief started coming down them, holding the limp lioness between them and followed closely by Virtue, Passion, and Innocence. The unicorn and the raccoon laid Pride down on the couch, where she blinked sleepily up at the ceiling. Her tail twisted out to the side at an angle that had to be painful from under her back until Crea lifted her and shifted it down between her legs. Virtue walked up next to Michael. "She's paralyzed," the vixen told him. "She can't feel or move anything from the neck down." His eyes widened. How had THAT happened?
Moving next to the couch, Michael lowered his head to nudge the lioness's shoulder. She turned watery eyes toward him. "I'm sorry, Michael," she whispered. "I never wanted to disappoint you." He blinked. That was an odd thing to say. He nuzzled the side of Pride's face, trying to be comforting. A tear moistened her cheek against his nose. "Thank you." He could barely hear her, even though he was so close to her mouth.
"You're sure this isn't just an effect of . . . malnourishment?" Crea asked.
Virtue shook her head while Pride answered. "It was the nightmare. Michelle." She turned her head away from Michael's touch to stare at the back of the couch. "I was back in that cave. . . ." was all she said in explanation.
"I still think you should give Michael a shot," Crea said. "Even if the nightmare somehow did this, his energy might be able to heal you."
Virtue was nodding. "You're going to have to soon, in any case. Paralyzed or not, we're not about to sit back and let you wither away."
"Not right now," Pride mumbled. "Maybe later, but please, not right now."
An uncomfortable silence stretched in the crowded living room. None of them had ever refused sex before, least of all Pride. She was . . . well . . . proud of it. Or at least she had been.
"You don't have to go right now," Virtue finally said. "Innocence still needs to, and by the time she's done Honesty will probably be awake. After them, though, you have to take a turn, okay?" Pride didn't respond. "Provided Michael feels up to it, of course." He just snorted. If his loins weren't sore yet, they would never be.
Another quiet moment passed while they all stared at the paralyzed lioness. Innocence was leaning on the back of the couch, her eyelids drooping. Crea put an arm around her white shoulders and helped her to stand straight. She guided the white rabbit around the couch toward Michael. "Come on, hun, let's get you some sex." Michael was feeling more and more like a popular morning snack. Virtue gestured him to walk forward until his haunches were right beside Pride's face.
"Hopefully she'll snap out of whatever's bothering her if we give her some porn close enough to touch," the vixen whispered confidentially in his ear.
Innocence padded up to his face of her own accord, frowning worriedly at him. She started to reach out to pet his neck again, but hesitated and looked down at herself. Instead, she cupped one of her round, white breasts and squeezed it, positioning it so close to his nose that he had to go cross-eyed to see it. She was presenting him with what she thought most turned him on. In truth, he was now more interested in examining her large rear end, but he obliged her, licking her breast gently with his wide tongue while she squeezed it for him. Once that breast was soaked, she presented her other one to him, letting him drench her entire bust. He nuzzled her neck and jaw line affectionately, then lowered his head to sniff at her crotch. Crea stepped up beside them then and turned the confused rabbit away from him with her hands on her shoulders.
"That's what he likes best," the unicorn confided in Innocence while Michael rubbed his nose all around her big rump. "You should have seen the way he stared at you when you walked away earlier."
Michael ignored the unicorn, pressing his nose into the rabbit's right buttock. Her gluteus muscles were every bit as soft as the downy white fur that coated them, but there wasn't an ounce of fat in them. Her bottom somehow managed to be plump while not being at all chubby. He spread her butt cheeks with his nose to look at her anus and mound, then licked them until the rabbit squirmed away.
Crea gently pushed her back toward him with a hand on her belly. "Here. Follow my example. Bend over just a little and hold your butt out to him." The unicorn did as she suggested, arching her back slightly and raising her golden tail, holding out her silver striped bottom for the room to see. She waited until Innocence did the same. Even bent slightly as she was, the rabbit's crack fully concealed her groin from Michael. "Now," Crea instructed, reaching behind her and grabbing her own rump, "spread your cheeks and brace yourself." They both did so. The rabbit's soft buttocks dimpled between her splayed fingers as she pulled them separate enough to reveal the inner crevice within her white mound. Michael immediately leaned forward to press his nose against her groin, forcing her buttocks to squish outward around the width of his muzzle. Innocence tensed at the same time as Crea yelped beside them in surprise. Mischief had snuck up behind her and was now licking at her exposed crotch enthusiastically. Michael followed suit, caressing the rabbit's mound with his wide tongue, letting the inner curve of her flanks press up against the large, wet muscle. When Innocence's groin was as drenched as her bosom, he curled his tongue and slid it into her slit. The rabbit gasped and lost her grip on her bottom, letting her pillowy cheeks close around Michael's nose. He ignored them, thrusting his tongue in and out of her vagina until she started moving forward and back to match his mouth's attentions. Then he withdrew from her plump backside, licking her tufted tail once before raising his head. She turned to look at him with her lower lip between her teeth. "Crawl under him, make him ready," Crea gasped. Mischief was still lapping at her silver mound. "You know the rest." She pointed down toward Michael's hind legs, and the rabbit followed her direction.
While Innocence tentatively pet his sheath, the raccoon turned Crea, never removing her muzzle from the unicorn's rump, until her own bottom was directly in front of Michael's face. She reached behind her to spread her brown cheeks and raised her bushy tail the same way Crea was doing, and Michael cooperatively began lapping at her crotch. "I rather like that idea," Virtue said from somewhere behind him, and in a matter of moments both she and Passion were lined up ahead of the unicorn, Crea licking Virtue's bottom-and carefully avoiding injuring her with her horn-while the vixen did the same to the deer. Mischief and Crea were both twisting so that Virtue and Passion were beside Michael, and the doe lowered herself to her hands and knees to help Innocence, licking and nuzzling Michael's white sheath and sack, then his penis once it started to emerge. The rabbit followed suit, licking the other side of his gray and tan member until it stood out straight and erect. He felt Innocence's back against his chest, then, her tufted tail against his belly, followed by her velvety mound against his tip. Passion's tongue swirled around his erection's head and the rabbit's crotch, stimulating them both at the same time. Michael couldn't restrain himself this time. His hips surged forward and his tip spread the hare's vaginal walls wide, tunneling into until it met . . . her hymen?
He paused with his shaft pressing against an elastic inner wall that he had already broken through, the rabbit beneath him trembling in discomfort and anticipation. He pushed deeper very slowly, stretching that barrier inward. It was Innocence that ended it this time, shoving herself back until her hymen burst and letting out a muffled cry. Michael burrowed himself the rest of the way into her as she trembled, but he forced himself not to move until the rabbit recovered. Instead, he focused on pleasuring the raccoon in front of him, stuffing a curled tongue into her folds as far as it would go and wiggling it inside of her to her delighted shock. Innocence calmed herself sooner than he expected, and he began humping her gently. He didn't think he could achieve another restrained orgasm like he had with Mischief, but he wanted this to be as pleasant for the rabbit as it could be, as far from her experience when he'd forced himself on her as a dragon as possible.
Passion was following every movement of his white sheath with her nose and tongue. A glance at all the linked females showed him four upraised rumps and as many pairs of dangling breasts that swayed beneath their owners with each of their heavy breaths. Every now and again one of the females would let go of her rump to squeeze her breast of to grope the rump in front of her. There were going to be a lot of orgasms soon. He wished he could see Pride to tell whether or not she was enjoying the show, but the couch arm blocked his view of the lioness with his face buried in Mischief's rear. He worked his tongue harder and faster within the raccoon's hot tunnel, even as he began pounding himself into Innocence. Already he'd lost his self control. The raccoon was rocking her hips against his lips, matching his tongue's movements. When she bucked and the room dimmed around them, Michael raised his head to look at Pride. The lioness was watching, though there was no way for him to tell if she was appreciating what she saw. Surrounded by mating females, her serene beauty captivated him. There was something about the way her neck tapered into the smooth curves of her breasts, nipples concealed by her fur, slow breaths raising and lowering them, that made him breathless. The slope of her belly retreating between her legs attracted him more than any gaping vagina ever had. He wished he had hands and arms so that he could hold her, comfort her.
The room dimmed again as Passion convulsed, her tongue leaving his sheath while she arched her back and pushed back against Virtue's face. Michael blinked. The vixen's entire muzzle was locked inside the deer's folds. He rammed himself into the impossibly tight rabbit. The room dimmed again as Crea bucked around Mischief's tongue, the raccoon's fingers pinching her clitoris. The thuds made by Michael's balls impacting with the rabbit's thighs sounded like bags of grain being dropped on a barn floor. Virtue gasped and tensed, and the room dimmed further. The stallion was riding his rabbit so fast now that her whimpers and moans sounded like she was laying on a vibrating bed set to its maximum output. He bent his neck to look between his forelegs, equine mouth open as he panted. The hare's mouth was open, too, gasping for air. Her breasts swung beneath her like upside down tidal waves crashing back and forth. Noticing him watching her, she squeezed one of those dangling breasts, trying to arouse him further. He crashed into her with the power of a charging elephant, but the lights in the room staid lit. The other four females, still recovering from their orgasms, congregated around his flanks. An onslaught of hands, noses, and tongues assaulted him from his tail down to his sheath. Three hands groped his swinging genitals, following their swift movements, while someone licked them. The room dimmed again as Innocence climaxed, every muscle in her body clenching, but Michael pumped harder into her quaking form. Crying out, she squeezed her breast again while he watched, clutching it in a clawed hand so that bulges of fur protruded from between her fingers. Those bulges quivered with the force of his lunges. He reared up onto his hind legs and whinnied, startling the four females beneath his haunches, and thrust his hips so forcefully that he sent Innocence sprawling, barely managing not to trample her when he landed. She didn't move from between his forelegs on the floor, and Virtue and Mischief had to pull her back to her feet and hold her up as they guided her back to his throbbing shaft. Fingers around his pulsing trunk guided him back between the abused rabbit's buttocks. As soon as he felt her mound against his tip, he lunged forward, stuffing himself in her tightness again before humping for all he was worth, trying desperately to end it for Innocence's sake. He looked between his forelegs at her again worriedly even as he used her tortured body to build his own arousal. She didn't squeeze her swinging breasts this time, merely braced herself with her hands next to his front hooves and let her long-eared head dangle limply. He pounded her over and over, always on the brink of orgasm, but never past it. The four females moved from under him to in front of his face. "Come on, Michael, this is too much for her," Virtue urged. They stood in a line and squeezed each other's breasts, then turned and thrust their perfect bottoms out toward him. He panted with the effort of pumping himself inside of Innocence and nuzzled Crea's muscular rump. After a few more moments, the females tried surrounding his head with their chests, pressing their breasts all around him. Smooth nipples poked his cheek, nose, and forehead. He was so lathered that they all backed away dripping. He raised his head and looked back at Pride, saw her watching his penis get hammered into the rabbit's battered mound time and time again. He saw her breathing calmly, the gentle curves of her chest rising and falling so subtly. After a lightning swift retreat, he pushed into Innocence, very, very slowly.
The room went pitch black.
Michael could only hope that Innocence no longer felt the pain of their pairing, that the warmth of the light he shot into her womb would soothe her body. That had been the case with all the other females, but he hadn't ridden any of them as hard as he had Innocence. He was fairly certain he'd injured the rabbit, and didn't know if the energy he now sent coursing through her would be enough to heal the damage he'd inflicted. He bucked into her several more times as his orgasm ran its course, closing his eyes and focusing on sending as much energy into her as he could, absorbing every sensation her heated inner muscles gave him, every tickling contact of the silken, feathery hairs of her opening circling his trunk as it slid in and out of her.
When the room rematerialized around them, Innocence stayed still beneath him aside from her ragged gasps. He began to slide out of her, his erection softening, but a hand grasped his shaft in front of his white sheath and stopped his retreat. Bending his neck to look beneath his chest again, he met Innocence's wide-eyed, confused frown. She was the one holding him inside her. The rabbit moved her hips up and down in tiny, experimental humping motions, and her eyebrows rose. She moved a little more, her body undulating around Michael's now rubbery girth, and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She flexed and clamped down around him to keep him inside her, letting go of his shaft with her hand to massage her breast again as she humped beneath him, occasional quiet laughs mingling with her panting. He was swiftly re-stiffening inside her hot, thrumming tightness, and it wasn't long before he was ready to ride her again.
The four females in front of him, seeing the change that had overcome Innocence, moved beneath him again, but this time they shared their attentions between Michael and the rabbit. Mischief and Crea, one on each side of his twitching flanks, picked up the rabbit's ankles and spread her long legs so that she looked like a wide-handled wheelbarrow with her hands supporting her upper body below his chest. Michael could feel her incredibly soft bottom squish up against his stomach in front of his sheath as she giggled at the two females holding her spread legs. Virtue pulled Innocence's arms up between his forelegs while Passion supported the rabbit's torso with her hands braced overtop of each other between her white breasts. The deer's cloven hooves gently teased Michael's balls.
The stallion took that as his cue and began sliding very slowly out of the panting rabbit's vagina before pushing into her as gently as he could, watching Virtue in front of him for any warning that he should stop. The snowy vixen was standing in front of his face, holding Innocence's outstretched arms between his forelegs, only a short length of the rabbit's forearms protruding past his chest. Virtue nodded at him encouragingly, and he began firmly humping the rabbit again. She moaned beneath him, but it sounded like it should this time: a female moaning in the throws of making love rather than being taken forcefully. As stretched as her legs were, she still managed to wiggle her rump against his belly. Michael lowered his head to look at her again, and Virtue spread the rabbit's arms enough that he could squeeze his large equine head between them. Innocence grinned at his upside down face, her green eyes glistening with tears of ecstasy. Passion was half sitting beneath her now, one arm leaning on the carpet while the other still supported the rabbit's torso between her round breasts. The tips of one of those breasts was trapped inside Passion's lips as the deer stretched her face up to suckle on the rabbit's nipple. Virtue pulled the rabbit's arms up around Michael's head, stretching the rabbit's body to its limits so she could hold herself up with her hands in the thick mane behind his ears, thus locking his head between his legs. The hare pulled his head further beneath him and kissed his nose, then his lips. Her small mouth opened wide against his own when a lunge induced a gasp, and he opened his own mouth a little to explore hers with his enormous tongue. She tried to respond in kind, but couldn't get her smaller tongue past his to share the strange kiss. He pulled his muscle back from between her spread jaws. It was too awkward, so he just nuzzled her cheek instead as he rode her. Virtue had moved on top of Passion, her white fingers vanishing between the doe's thighs while her other hand closed around the deer's breast, squeezing it up away from Passion's chest and into the wolf's mouth, doing to the deer what she was doing to the rabbit. Mischief and Crea both held one of the rabbit's big feet with a single hand, using their free hands to stroke Michael's bucking flanks, caressing the solid muscles around his long tail while they flexed and drove him in and out of the rejuvenated bunny's mound. He whinnied in surprise against Innocence's face when a furry finger slid into his anus. He bucked harder, trying to dislodge it, but it followed his movements tenaciously. He could hear the two females laughing behind him.
Michael forced himself to slow his humping when Innocence cried out and arched her back, pressing her chest down into Passion's muzzle in the suddenly dimly lit room. It took all of his willpower to manage, but once the light returned to the living room he held his haunches completely still. Mischief and Crea lowered the rabbit's feet to the floor and Virtue and Passion rolled out from under them so Innocence could crawl awkwardly away from the erection piercing her. Once free, she made her way in front of Michael and hugged his neck, kissing the side of his face affectionately. He leaned into her embrace, ecstatic that he'd finally given the rabbit pleasure rather than pain. He barely noticed the chock of his solid, pulsing member being suddenly exposed to the cool air.
"I'll go get Honesty," Virtue said, hurrying toward the stairs. "There's no way she slept through all that. Keep him ready, okay?"
"Happily," Crea said. The silver and golden unicorn ducked under his stomach and caressed his huge penis, cupping its broad tip in her palm and rubbing its ridge with her thumb and fingers while her other hand lifted and tickled his heavy white sack. He felt her take one of his large nuts between her teeth and swirl her tongue around it while it was inside her mouth. The raccoon behind him began drumming on his rump and groin behind where his genitals hung as if his rear end was a musical instrument. Passion had joined Innocence in her embrace around Michael's neck, kissing the surprised rabbit deeply and shamelessly groping her white, afterglowing body.
Everyone stopped what they were doing when Virtue walked down the stairs and stood staring across the room at nothing in particular with troubled eyes. "Honesty's still asleep," she told the sudden silence. "I can't wake her up."