Chariot of Deceit
#8 of Dreamer
The following is erotic in nature. Read at your own discretion.
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Chariot of Deceit
* * *
Honesty sat at the small table, unable to bring herself to look away from the two canines making love beside it. The tan and gray male was thrusting into the white female's rump, holding her back against him with one hand clutching her breast, the other caressing her lower abdomen.
Her reflection reached out and stroked the male's luxurious tail. "They really are beautiful, aren't they?" she asked absently.
"We all are," was Honesty's answer. She was trying to figure out why the nightmare was having her watch Michael's first pairing with Virtue. So far this dream hadn't been unpleasant at all. They'd chatted politely while playing spectators to Michael's creation of the vixen, then his brief foreplay and intercourse with her. Michelle always changed the subject when Honesty demanded an explanation for the cave's terrible events, so eventually she just stopped asking.
"So we are," the skunk's doppelganger agreed, rubbing her black hand up and down Michael's strong back, buttocks, and legs. "I'm sorry, Honesty," she said suddenly.
"I just want to know why you did it."
"Oh, not for the cave. For what I have to do to you now."
The skunk rose from her chair and glared threateningly at her black-eyed reflection. "And what might that be?"
"Nothing you can fight or run away from, I'm afraid. I'm going to show you who and what Michael really is."
"I know who and what he is. He's Michael. That's all that matters."
The nightmare smirked, but somehow made the expression look a little sad. "Is that what you honestly believe?" The image of the mating wolves vanished and was replaced by a human man sleeping, naked. "How much of Michael's memories did Virtue give you?" she asked, staring at the nude human as though her question was of no real consequence.
Honesty didn't answer. Ever since her creation, her view of Michael had been of warmth, of love, of everything good in life. She didn't have any clear memories of his life as a human outside of the dreams. His waking life was like the memory of a dream to her. Their arrival in the waking world had seemed unreal, one continuous stream of dé ja vu giving her goose bumps. She felt like she should recognize everything she'd seen, but could never quite grasp the connection between that world and Michael, between it and herself.
The slumbering human began to stir, immediately scratching its hairy balls and fondling its limp pink member before even opening its eyes. The scene changed. Human Michael was sitting in a wheeled office chair with his hands inside his unzipped jeans, watching some sort of screen showing a pair of human girls spreading their vaginas wide and fingering themselves. "Those girls were given a drug to make them temporarily forget who they are," Honesty's reflection told her. "The drug also makes them happily do as they're told, no matter the instruction." One of the naked girls pulled a bright red dildo from off screen and began teasing the other's spread folds with it, but the scene changed again before anything more came of it. A much younger Michael, naked again, was humping a pair of pillows that he squeezed around his member while staring down at a magazine on the floor in front of him. The magazine wasn't anything pornographic, as Honesty'd expected, but a comic book. The page young Michael was staring at showed a well drawn anthropomorphic squirrel, fully dressed, with pistols in her hands. "Dear Michael's early inspiration," the nightmare said, looking back and forth between the magazine and Honesty's face. That cartoon squirrel looked a great deal like her, with different coloring. The scene changed again.
"I hate this life!" An adolescent Michael in blue jeans and a sweat shirt slammed a door behind him. "Nothing in this existence is worth waking up for!" he shouted at nothing in particular.
Honesty's eyes widened, alarmed to see her creator in such turmoil. "What just happened?"
"Michael's father just refused to buy him a new car," the nightmare answered simply. She watched with a disapproving grimace while Michael screamed into a couch cushion furiously.
Honesty blinked and shook her head. The Michael she knew would never react so strongly to such an insignificant matter. The teenager punched the couch before the scene changed again.
Several humans stood on a large wooden platform above a clearing in a rustic town, long ropes wrapped around their necks connecting them all to a broad wooden beam above their heads. A man stood in front of the platform making a pious speech about sinners and the devil being loose in the world. The floor dropped out from beneath the men and women on the platform, and Honesty had to turn away. She could hear bones popping.
"Not a single person killed here was guilty of the crime that they were accused of."
"Why are you showing me this?" Honesty snarled.
Her reflection raised its eyebrows. "I thought you'd seen enough of who Michael is. I could show you more, if you like. Perhaps the time he punched his best friend for not sharing a toy with him? No? Well, then, I'll keep moving on with WHAT Michael is. These are humans in all their glory. This is the essence of Michael's species." The scene changed to a vast cement room where hundreds of people gasped their last, convulsing breaths around a toxic fog being vented in from holes in the ceiling. Outside the room were half a dozen uniformed men passing around a champagne bottle after having pressed a button to slaughter the multitudes in the gas chamber. "Humanity at its best," Honesty's reflection commented. The scene switched to several men mowing down a huge pen of nearly a thousand horses with Gatling guns. "Small wonder Michael tries to pass himself off as a different species, yes?" Four large men swarmed around a young woman in the back of a van, holding her down while they took their turns raping her.
"What is the point?" Honesty shouted, squeezing her eyes shut.
"A very good question," the nightmare said, and the vile scene faded to nothing. "If you mean to ask what the point of humanity is, your guess is as good as mine. But I think you just want to know why I'm forcing you to observe it. The answer to that is quite simple." When Honesty opened her eyes, her reflection was smiling cruelly directly in front of her face. "I am the humanity Michael and his pet wolf never wanted you to see." A familiar scene lit up before them of a green dragon tangled around a bound rabbit, doubly piercing her while it milked her breast. "You wanted to know why I set up the cave so Michael would do this? The answer is the same. When he made the she wolf, he poured every wholesome attribute within him into her. What he didn't let himself think about was the fact that he was emitting EVERY aspect of himself, good and evil, into the dream world, and merely filtering them so that the dog would receive only those he chose for her. The other attributes disappeared into his dreams, but they built a vessel for themselves since he wouldn't do so for them. I am the greater part of Michael, the envy, the resentment, the contempt and loathing."
Something touched Honesty's footpad, but she ignored it, staring in wide eyed horror at the sneering, triumphant face that looked so much like her own. "You don't want to believe it, I know, but ask Michael to tell you who and what he really is. Or ask the she wolf, since he isn't much for conversation these days. She's not tainted by my qualities, but she knows Michael for what he really is." The contact on Honesty's foot began moving up her ankle and calf, but she still couldn't make herself look away from her dark eyed reflection. "And the reason I did bind those three and leave them in the cave for dear Michael to find, the reason I revealed his nature to you, is something you've known ever since he raped Innocence and Mischief. I, like him, revel in inflicting pain."
Honesty finally looked down when the contact moved up her knee and began creeping up her thigh. A thick, rubbery tendril had risen from the ground and was spiraling up her leg. She reached down, trying to pull it off of her, but as soon as she began resisting it, the tendril wrapped more tightly around her leg. She saw that its dark blue tip was the same size and shape as the blunt head of Michael's stallion penis.
"One more truth for you, Honesty. Michael made this world so that when someone enters it, they can't leave until they have an orgasm." A second penis-tipped rope began climbing the skunk's other leg. She tried to kick it away, but it ensnared her ankle quickly and didn't let her budge. "Have no fear that it will be at all pleasant." As the two thick tentacles climbed up her legs, a third and fourth whipped around her wrists, pulling her arms out to the sides. A fifth crept slowly around her slender black waist, and once it had circled her midriff twice, lifted her off the ground. The tendrils around her arms and legs pulled at her so she lay on her back in midair, and yet another sprung from the ground to snare her white-striped tail, tugging it away from her rump. A seventh wrapped around her neck, squeezing just enough to make breathing difficult. The rope around her right leg crept up her thigh and began probing her groin, prodding at her tail hole and mound. She braced herself, expecting it to choose a hole and ravage it, but the tentacle waited. She felt its broad tip rest against her mound, pressing against her white furred folds, but not quite enough to part them. Then the tentacle around her other leg reached her base and found her small tail hole, and she thought she understood the first one's patience. But the second one, as well, merely stopped with its tip nestled between her soft buttocks.
The ropes around her wrists had all the while been stealthily ensnaring her arms. When they reached her shoulders she noticed that their tips were flat suction pads rather than penis heads. They crept down from her shoulders to her breasts, somewhat flattened against her chest by gravity, and swiftly found and latched onto her smooth nipples, tugging her mammaries up by their tips. A network of smaller tentacles rose out from behind the suction pads and folded down around her breasts like strange flowers blooming, each pressing into her fur to squeeze her breasts like dozens of small fingers. The tentacles began expertly nursing her.
The rope around her neck slithered up in front of her face, and a huge blue penis head swayed before her eyes like a threatening cobra before lowering to rest against her lips. She held her mouth firmly shut.
Her right breast squirted a small stream of milk into the suction pad around its nipple, then another, and another after that. Her left breast released its own supply shortly after. The tentacles around her body rippled, and she could see the tip against her nose swell wider, growing harder against her. Her butt cheeks were being spread wider by the tentacle between them, and the contact against her mound expanded until she could feel it against the inner muscles of her thighs. The cord around her waist extended up her abdomen and ribs, and some of those little elastic fingers made way when its large, swelling tip nestled between her breasts' lower curves. Then her supply of milk was exhausted.
Very slowly, the tentacle nestled between her buttocks began pressing against her wrinkled tail hole, steadily building pressure. Just when her body started to open painfully around it, it stopped again, holding itself an inch within her.
"Hmm. I just don't know." The nightmare walked up beside her and leaned with her elbows over the tentacle around Honesty's waist. "Entertaining as this is, it's not very personal, is it? What do you think?" Honesty squirmed around the thick tip only beginning to penetrate her, not daring to say anything lest the tentacle against her lips take the opportunity to gag her. "Yes, it's too impersonal, I'm afraid. I can't let you forget what it is I'm trying to teach you."
In an instant, Honesty was laying on her white striped back in the bed of a van, the automobile crowded and cramped with everyone in it. The tentacles around her wrists, ankles, and tail had become strong fingers. Michael was holding her down, three ages of Michael, the boy, the teenager, and the man surrounding her while a fourth Michael in anthropomorphic wolf form knelt between her spread legs, leering down at her lecherously. That canine Michael, the male she had been so intimate with not so long ago, bent over her and bit her breast below the nipple, hard enough to draw blood. She yelped and tried to pull away from him, but the child Michael punched the side of her face with more strength than his size and age warranted. "Stop pretending you don't want it, whore," adult Michael said through the ringing in her ears. He was holding her legs apart while the timber wolf fell on top of her, throwing all his weight against her before reaching between their pelvises to spread the folds of her vagina with a thumb and forefinger. His long, hot erection began thrusting in and out of her. When she writhed under him, trying feebly to escape, he bit the side of her throat, beads of red standing out in stark contrast to her black fur around his muzzle.
Adolescent Michael, pinning her other wrist to the van's floor, moved so that his naked knees were above her head. His soft penis and hairy sack dangled over her muzzle. "Blow me, you little slut. I know you want to." The other Michaels laughed. Honesty cringed and tried to turn her face away from his pink member, but the wolf's jaws clamped down in the side of her throat, locking her head in place. "Do it," teenage Michael growled, flashing a slender knife above her, "or I take out one of your pretty eyes. You don't need those." When he hunched his hips lower and his penis fell on her nose, she opened her mouth obediently and let the organ slide between her lips, weeping while she used her tongue to arouse him. "And if I feel any teeth," he grunted, "you'll get to see just how good I am with this knife."
Wolf Michael was stuffing his swelling canine bulge in and out of her mound, growling around her neck with the effort of raping her. By the time the teenager was fully erect and had begun thrusting into Honesty's mouth, the anthropomorphic wolf had flooded her with his sperm and was pumping his last drops onto her chest with one hand while straddling her waist. The teenager stood up and pushed his way down between her spread legs, letting the wolf replace him at her wrist. "Man, you made a mess. Flip her over." The other males did as he told them. Once Honesty was on her stomach, he grabbed her hips and pulled her rump up to meet him, shoving her wide tail to the side effortlessly. He smacked her bottom a few times before grabbing her buttocks and spreading them apart. She felt the erection she had used her mouth to build rub against her opening where a tentacle had so recently begun to violate her an instant before adolescent Michael buried himself inside her tail hole and began roughly riding her. It hurt worse than she could have imagined, his every thrust burning from the inside out. The longer he humped her, though, the less she felt the pain of it. If she stopped focusing on the horror of her plight, she could almost enjoy it. . . .
Child Michael grabbed her dangling breast and dug his fingers into her soft flesh, his thumb clawing into the wound where wolf Michael had bit her. She yelped, and the boy moved in front of her, holding his smaller penis inches away from her face. "You didn't think you were done, yet, did you, little squirrel? Open up." He boxed her nose when she wasn't quick enough to comply and stuck his smooth member between her stunned, gaping jaws, his peach fuzz covered sack squishing against her muzzle. She closed her lips around him, dazed by the pain throbbing simultaneously in her face and backside. She may have underestimated the boy's age. Once he was fully erect--and it didn't take long--he was almost the same size as the teenager.
The adolescent groaned behind her, and hot cream shot into her anal canal. The moment he pushed her away from him, the boy was there to take his place, thrusting into her tail hole with his predecessor's semen acting as lubrication. The teenager squatted in front of her again and pulled her face into his lap with a hand on the back of her head. "Clean your filth off me, whore. I don't want a drop of your disgusting juices on me." The only juices on him were his own, still leaking from his tip, but with his deadly knife inches from her face, Honesty began licking his shrinking erection and curly haired genitals, swallowing the salty, bitter slime that she lapped off of him. Child Michael climaxed after only a few moments of humping her and released a small spray of seed onto her back. Then the adult was pressing up against her thighs and bottom, positioning himself between the folds of her mound. He had been working himself up to full arousal quietly behind her while holding her ankles and watching the others rape her, and was fully erect and ready as soon as the boy made room for him. She focused on his shaft jabbing in and out of her vagina while licking the teenager's wrinkly sack, trying to will herself into having an orgasm so this nightmare would end. He let go of her hips every once in a while and slapped her buttock or leaned over her to reach around her side and twist her breast. She moved around him slightly, letting him ride her as he would, but shifting her weight so that the pressure against her internal walls increased and he rubbed against her clitoris from time to time. Finally, she bucked her hips against him, her own orgasm causing his, and another load of sperm filled her loins.
"Wow, she really likes you, man," the teenager said. Honesty sagged against the floor when the adult slid out of her, sobbing in ragged breaths and waiting to wake up. Then the wolf was on top of her, lifting her back onto her hands and knees before ramming his rebuilt erection into her. "Didn't think you were done, did you?" The teenager taunted. "You're ours for the whole night. Maybe longer, since you've taken such a shine to us. I'm sure we can find a pretty collar for you at a pet shop."
The skunk wept as she was raped over and over, what felt like hours passing while the four Michaels took their turns with her. She tried to somehow will herself to wake up, but the nightmare went on for so long that she began to forget it was a dream at all. When the men finally opened the two back doors of the van and tossed her in a battered heap into a dark alley, driving away with no more ado, she could do nothing but lie on the pavement and cry.
A pair of black furred footpads appeared in front of her face. Someone was looming over her, but she no longer cared what they might do to her. If she was lucky, they'd kill her. "Now you see, don't you. You've seen Michael's true nature. And now that you know what he is, you know what you are." A hand gripped her chin and forced her to look up at her own smirking face. "You are nothing more than the furry little sock that he masturbates in." The alleyway swirled around her into a dark emptiness, and the last sound she heard was the nightmare's voice. "If any part of you still doubts the honest truth, ask the she wolf. You'll find out that what I've shown you doesn't begin to scrape at his tainted core." The nightmare laughed, then the world was silent.
* * *
Michael waited while Innocence and Crea moved the lioness into position, trying to concentrate on Passion's hands and mouth around his erection rather than his growing concern for both Pride and Honesty. The rabbit and unicorn had flipped the limp cat onto her stomach and pulled her long legs over the arm of the couch, trying to make her comfortable with pillows from upstairs even though she could feel nothing. Pride was staring at him numbly, saying nothing while the other two females made her ready to have sex with the big horse. Michael stared back, wishing he could comfort her. He wished he could do something to help Honesty, too, but had to trust Virtue and Mischief to do what they could. Crea was holding Pride's tail up while Innocence rubbed her slit, trying to arouse her so that Michael wouldn't do too much damage, but the rabbit looked discouraged. Michael hoped that pairing with the lioness might bring feeling back to her, but Innocence's fingers weren't seeming to have much effect. The bunny shrugged, disappointed, and Crea gestured for him to come to her. He did so, and at her direction stood over the couch at an angle with his forelegs in front of it, beside Pride's face, and his hind legs beside its arm, behind the lioness's raised rump. The unicorn draped Pride's sinuous tail over the side of her gymnast's bottom before wrapping her fingers around Michael's massive penis and guiding it to the lioness's exposed mound. When he pushed himself against the soft flesh, he only made her scoot away from him up the couch. Passion pulled her back, and Innocence ducked below Michael's powerful rump to hold the cat steady, white hands clutching light brown hips. Michael waited, though, looking down at Pride's face beside him. He didn't like this. He wasn't taking her against her will, but it was clear she didn't care whether he bred her or not. Sex wasn't supposed to be one sided like this.
"Go ahead, Michael," Pride said quietly. "You can enjoy it, at least."
No, he couldn't. Not like this. But he needed to if she was going to survive. He had to feed her. With Innocence firmly holding the lioness's haunches, he brought his own forward slowly, burrowing into her a ways before moving in and out of her in little thrusts to work his way further into her belly. The bunny beneath him giggled as his full sack rubbed back and forth on top of her head between her long ears. She licked it playfully, and he began humping the limp lioness in long, deliberate lunges. Innocence had to wrap her arms around Pride's thighs to keep her steady.
While Michael humped, Passion climbed over the couch's other arm and knelt in front of the lioness's disinterested face. The deer nuzzled the lioness's cheek, licked her ear, and when the lioness didn't respond, covered her lips with her own. Pride tried to pull back at first, but being unable to move anything except her head, had to submit to the doe's heartfelt kiss. Passion kept her lips locked to Pride's for a long time, caressing the cat's face. While they were kissing, Crea came up beside Michael and scratched the slowly humping stallion behind his ear. "How are you doing, big guy?" He only looked at her distractedly, most of his attention on the tight loins around his throbbing penis. "I mean, are you getting tired? You ran a long way last night, and have had sex six times sense, after this." He just snorted and leaned against her scratching fingers. For an answer, he twisted his neck toward the deer still kissing Pride and licked the crouching doe's curved butt cheek.
Passion broke her kiss to look up at him, and Pride swallowed a gulp of air. "You're good at that," the lioness murmured. Michael licked Passion's rump again, and she laughed, raising her bottom toward his face before turning back to Pride and kissing her again. He squeezed his big tongue between her buttocks and teased her crotch while Crea stepped closer and rested her hand on the deer's backside next to his nose, chuckling.
"Good," the bright unicorn said. "Because I'm going to need another turn soon." He eyed her, concerned that she already needed him again. "Oh, I'm not . . . what should I call it? . . . getting hungry, I guess," she explained, squeezing Passion's bottom. The deer wiggled it under her fingers and around Michael's probing tongue. "But watching you this morning has gotten me all worked up."
Pride grunted and the deer pulled her head back to let the cat draw a breath. "Even after your orgasm circle while Michael was . . . feeding Innocence?" she asked around pants and gulps of air. She didn't appear in the least bit uncomfortable with Michael moving through her, even though she was being pushed forward and pulled backward over her pillows with each of his long thrusts despite the bunny clinging to her legs. The stallion hastened his humping, and when Pride stopped speaking the deer in front of her kissed her again. Michael could see the doe's tongue dive into Pride's mouth before their lips met.
"Well, Mischief's tongue is amazing," Crea replied, rubbing Passion's butt idly. "I'm happy mating with anyone here. But let's face it, we're all just foreplay for each other compared to being ridden by a horse." Michael lifted his face away from the doe's bottom to nuzzle the unicorn's chest appreciatively. "Well, it's true," she laughed, petting his mane. "Kind of hurts at first, but the climax is . . . indescribable." She sighed, her bust shifting under his nose. "I wish I could turn back into a quadruped. I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night when we first met since it happened. I had so many other places I wanted to show you. So many other colors." He licked her full breast, not knowing how else to comfort the reminiscent unicorn. The silver fur under his tongue bounced as she giggled. "Okay, big guy. Stop moping, huh? We're going to have to bring some towels down here to keep us dry from your tongue." She dipped her fingers between Passion's buttocks, then flicked his ear with fingers damp from his saliva. She laughed when he pulled away from her bosom, embarrassed. "I didn't mean for you to stop. Here. . . ." Crea arched her back and puffed out her chest, making her round breasts stand out prominently. "Virtue showed me that we can lactate last night. It feels weird, but I know you like it. Go ahead." Michael snorted his own laugh and began pounding himself into Pride while he returned his nose to Crea's silver sphere of soft flesh and found her smooth nipple with his lips. When he closed his teeth carefully around its nub and pulled at it gently, inhaling through his mouth, the unicorn drew a deep breath. "I'm starting to like it a little, too." Her breast bounced against his lips as she talked, and he nibbled on its tip. The ticklish unicorn laughed, making her ample bust jiggle all the more. Michael teased the dot of flesh between his teeth with his big tongue and began suckling earnestly. Crea closed her eyes and sighed happily, her hand in his mane holding his large equine head against her chest. Her other hand closed around Passion's tufted tail, and the deer yelped in surprise, looking back at her. Crea let go of her tail and pat her rump apologetically without opening her eyes. "Mmm. Once you're done having sex with Pride, maybe I can have a quick turn? Unless Honesty's woken up, of course."
"He's having sex with me?" The numb lioness asked, and Crea laughed when she realized Pride was joking.
"Either that, or he mistook your butt for a steak that needs tenderizing." They could all hear his haunches thudding against the cat's rump. It must have been very loud for Innocence; his balls still smacked her every now and again when she raised her head too high. Michael nibbled on his nipple again and was rewarded with a small jet of warm milk hitting the roof of his mouth. "Ah, ah! I'll . . . never get . . . used to that." He didn't get much more milk out of Crea. After her last thin spurt he opened his jaws wide and squeezed her breast gently between his teeth, as he'd come to enjoy doing, and licked her soft silver fur clean. "Happy, big guy?" He nickered and covered her wet nipple with his tongue, biting down just a little harder around her breast. The unicorn kissed his lowered head between his ears. "Good. I'm glad my boobs could be of ser. . . ." The trailed off, looking back past him toward the stairway, a frown creasing her forehead. "Is something wrong with Honesty, too?" Passion lifted her head from Pride's muzzle to follow Crea's gaze.
"It seems the nightmare visited her, too," Virtue's voice came from behind Michael. "Whatever happened in the dream, it hurt her, just like Pride was hurt. She can't see or hear anything."
Michael paused, hilting his quivering length inside Pride's tightness, and looked over his shoulder, dropping Crea's drenched silver breast from between his teeth. Virtue and Mischief were helping Honesty to the base of the stairs, both with an arm around their shoulders. The skunk's eyes were open, but they stared unfocused at nothing in particular. She looked exhausted; Michael hadn't had sex with her since arriving in the waking world.
"Keep going, Michael," Virtue said, patting his muscular rear as she and Mischief helped the blind skunk past him. "Honesty's going to need your talents as soon as possible." They brought her around to the other side of the couch and sat her down with her back against its arm. She curled her striped tail over her crossed legs, just like when he'd first met her, and stared blankly at the wall in front of her. She was shivering.
"Michael. . . ." He jumped at Crea's hand against his shoulder and remembered the female he was supposed to be helping right then, the female whose body gripped him so firmly. He focused on the sensation of sliding in and out of her as he resumed humping, trying to bring about his energy-inducing orgasm as quickly as possible.
Virtue knelt down in front of his forelegs and gazed concernedly at the numb lioness being ridden on the couch. "Pride, I think we need to know what happened to you in the nightmare."
Failing at turning her head away, Pride instead closed her slitted eyes to hide from the vixen's stare. "I'd rather not think about it."
The white wolf caressed the cat's face tenderly. "Michelle might be able to pull any of us into the dream when we fall asleep. If that's the case, we need to know what we're up against. We won't last long if she cripples us all."
"I bet that's exactly what she's trying to do," Crea put in. She was squatting in front of Honesty, the skunk's hands exploring her face. When they found her horn, Honesty threw her arms around the unicorn's neck and hugged her close, weeping silently. Crea returned the embrace, speaking comforting words even though the skunk couldn't hear them.
A long moment passed with the only noise coming from Michael's haunches thudding against Pride's rump. "She--" The lioness had to pause as a particularly powerful lunge forced the air from her lungs. She might not be able to feel him, but her body was reacting to Michael's dramatic attentions. That was encouraging. She might regain feeling if he could make her climax. "She did to me . . . what Michael did to Innocence and Mischief in the cave," Pride said once she was able. The raccoon's head swiveled to her when she heard her name, and Innocence's ears perked up to either side of his pistoning shaft. "She talked a lot, too."
"About what?" Virtue prompted.
"It doesn't matter. They were just words."
"It might be important."
"Just . . . don't let her get to you if she pulls you into a dream. Don't listen to her, whatever she says." Whatever the nightmare had told her, Pride was clearly less willing to recall it than she was to remember being raped by a dragon.
Virtue opened her mouth to keep urging the lioness to share, but Michael accidentally saved her from talking about it any further. The horse's genitals clenched against his belly, and darkness flooded the room while light flooded the lion. Pride's slender body glowed, and beams of light shot through her wide eyes and open mouth, even through her nostrils, to illuminate Virtue's face in front of her. Michael rammed himself in and out of the lioness's vagina, riding out his climax. A part of him missed the sticky lubrication of sperm, but no sensation could compare to that of liquid light coursing through his penis. Pride's loins heated with energy around him. He panted wearily as the room returned around them, a fresh shimmer of lather making his pelt glisten.
"How do you feel?" Virtue asked while the stallion backed out of his mount's folds, hooves clopping quietly on the carpet.
"I feel . . . awake," Pride said, blinking in astonishment. "Thank you, Michael!" The bunny beneath him started pumping and licking his freshly liberated erection.
"And your arms? Your legs?"
A silence stretched without an answer, and eventually they all let the silence speak for itself. "We'll find a way to fix you up, Pride," Crea said, helping Honesty to stand again. "For now, we've got one more girl to feed."
Virtue took the skunk's other arm as Passion and Mischief lifted Pride and repositioned her so she was lying on her back on the couch again. "We'll need to start slowly. If the nightmare did to her what she did to Pride, she probably won't be in much of a mood for mating."
"At least you were able to talk to me, to explain the need for it," Pride said. "Honesty won't be able to understand."
Crea rubbed the skunk between her shoulders while guiding her hand to Michael's nose. "Hopefully she will once he's finished."
Honesty swallowed audibly when her palm touched Michael's broad snout. "Michael?" she whispered, barely loud enough to hear. He nuzzled her hand gently. "The real Michael?" He nodded, moving his nose up and down her palm. The odd question made him worry more about what the nightmare had done to her. She pulled her hand away from his nose and tried to take a step back, but Crea's and Virtue's arms under her own kept her standing before him. "I think . . . I need to lie down," she said wearily, with a slight tone of pleading.
"What now?" Crea asked, looking at Virtue over the skunk's head. "We can't let her go back to sleep."
The wolf thought for a moment. "Passion, I think we need your talents."
Hearing her name, the doe came closer.
Virtue made a strange, lip-puckered face, trying to imitate a kiss but only looking like she'd bit into something sour. "Could you kiss Honesty for us? Try to get her worked up a bit?" The deer looked bewildered, so the vixen leaned forward with her arm still supporting Honesty and planted her lips over Michael's. "Kiss," she repeated, straightening back up. Passion's eyes lit up with her smile, and she stepped in front of Virtue. The deer reached up and held the wolf's white face, pulling their muzzles together in a kiss that did her name credit. Virtue's eyes widened, and one foot lifted a little off the carpeted floor. She cleared her throat when Passion leaned back to look at her. "Ahem, yes, very good. Could you do that to her?" She gently pushed the deer in front of the skunk, who had only stared blankly since asking to lie down. "Kiss Honesty," Virtue urged, tilting her head toward the skunk in question.
Not hesitating, Passion put her brown furred hands on the sides of Honesty's face. "Who . . . ?" the skunk began, but the deer dove tongue first into her mouth as soon as it opened, and the rest of her question ended in a muffled gurgle. Instinct made her struggle defensively at first, but Passion's enthusiasm melted her resistance. As soon as she began leaning into the doe's lips, though, the skunk threw herself back away from Passion hard enough to break past Crea's and Virtue's supporting arms, and fell in a crumpled heap, nearly hitting her head against the wooden wall. Four females leapt after her, helping the trembling skunk to sit up. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I don't. . . ." She swallowed, ending whatever she had been about to say, and sagged against the arms holding her. She looked too fatigued to even speak any more.
"Come on," Virtue said. "We can't afford to wait much longer."
Crea and Mischief, having reached the fallen skunk first, lifted her back to her feet and half carried her toward Michael's backside at Virtue's direction. Innocence, having crawled out from under him when Honesty tripped, approached Passion and hugged the dispirited deer comfortingly, but Michael was watching the group of females behind his flanks too closely to spare much attention for the rabbit and doe. Of the four of them, he could only see Virtue and half of Mischief past his hind leg.
He felt a hand touch his rear beside the root of his tail. The contact moved until it touched his long haired tail, then withdrew immediately. "What . . . ?" he heard Honesty begin behind him, then a palm touched the middle of his right flank and began sliding over its solid inner curve before hastily disappearing. "I'm so tired. Can't someone else do this?" A moment later a hand pushed his long tail aside and planted itself against his groin, just below his anus. "If he . . . needs one of us, could someone else help him? I just don't feel up to it now." The hand didn't leave him this time, though, instead tracing its way down between his flanks until its fingers met the back of his dangling testicles. It hesitated there, trembling. "Michael," Honesty said, her voice a little louder now and coming from a lower point behind him, "can't you have one of the others do this?" He'd never wished more that he could say something yet even if he could, the skunk would be unable to hear him. He just held still and trusted the other females to soothe her. A second palm lifted one of his white furred nuts, and fingers closed around it. He could see the blind skunk now, crouching between his hind legs with Mischief holding her wrists and guiding her hands around his privates. Tears were in her open eyes. The hand squeezing his testicle dropped it to move up his sheath and over his exposed penis. He'd lost his erection, but was still mostly unsheathed, his length dangling away from his belly. It twitched when the skunk's finger pads touched its bare skin. Those fingers curled around his trunk and slid down its length until she was cupping his broad gray and tan head. "I really am just your sock, aren't I?" Michael blinked, and when he realized what she meant, what the nightmare must have somehow convinced her, he sat on her before anyone knew what he was doing, his heavy rump knocking her onto her belly and pinning her to the floor. She cried out in startled fright, and Mischief, Crea, and Virtue all huddled around his rear end, trying to lift his haunches off of the helpless skunk.
"Michael, what are you doing?" Virtue shouted. He was surprised himself, but sitting on Honesty was the first negative message he had been able to think of. He had to find a way to convince her that she existed for more than just to pleasure him. He was aware of the irony of having his immense sack plastered against the skunk's back and his thick penis draped over her shoulder and neck while he tried to think of a way to tell her she lived for more than sex, but now that he'd sat on her he wasn't about to let her up until he was sure she understood.
Innocence and Passion were trying to help the others lift him, and Pride was yelling at him incredulously from the couch. The only calm female in the room seemed to be Honesty, who was apparently content to rest with his overbearing weight on top of her back. Slow breaths moved her torso beneath him. "All right, Michael. I take it back." He blinked, surprised that she knew why he'd pinned her in such a way, and swiftly got back onto his feet.
"What was that about?" Virtue stepped in front of him with a bewildered expression. He just nickered and shook out his mane.
When Honesty didn't get up from where she lay between his hind hooves, Mischief and Passion checked to make sure he hadn't hurt her before helping her up. The skunk's head hit his penis, lifting it between her ears, and she ducked away when she realized what she was wearing as a hat. Passion guided her forward beneath him, and Mischief began pumping his long shaft while the doe moved Honesty into position. "Wait, still?" the skunk said quietly when Passion lifted her hips up against the stallion's belly. Once the raccoon had brought him back to full arousal, the deer moved Honesty's voluminous tail aside and scooted her back until the head of his erection nestled between her black and white butt cheeks against her slit. He began pressing himself against her. "Michael," she whispered urgently, her breathing swift with rising panic, "you can hurt me in this world."
He hesitated, but Virtue held his large head in her hands, staring at him with compassionate resolve. "You have to, Michael. I don't know how long she'll last without your energy." She brought his face up to her own and licked his nose. "Just try to end it quickly. We'll do what we can to help."
The stallion pressed forward again until the skunk's folds parted around him; she gasped and moaned while he slowly forced himself into her. A wide, penis shaped bulge grew up her abdomen as his girth stretched her body. She was trembling and whimpering when his genitals reached her thighs. Someone patted his muscular rump, and the horse slowly began riding his skunk. Virtue disappeared behind him only to return a moment later leading Mischief and Innocence. She had them face each other in front of him and place their hands on each other's breasts. The rabbit tilted her head at Virtue questioningly. The raccoon grinned at the rabbit, squeezing her white bust. The vixen slapped both of their butts playfully before walking back behind Michael. A moment later, as Innocence tentatively squeezed the raccoon's breasts and Mischief made her own dance on her chest, a flurry of hands massaged the horse's groin from tail hole to swinging balls. After using the bunny's bosom as a pair of hand drums, Mischief laughed and scooped the startled rabbit up in her arms, carried her over to Michael, and positioned the squirming hare's bottom in front of his face. Obligingly, he nuzzled and licked Innocence's soft buttocks, and she squealed in hysterical glee when he lapped at her mound, her white calves kicking above his head. Before his tongue ventured into the bunny's slit, Mischief lowered her to the carpet and rolled her onto her stomach, facing Innocence away from the humping stallion. The rabbit tried to get to her hands and knees, but Mischief was pinning her shoulders to the floor. Innocence looked back over her shoulder at the raccoon, who merely grinned at her and climbed onto the rabbit's back facing Michael, her calves to either side of Innocence's face and her palms planted on the small of her back. Her fingers were just touching the upper slopes of the bunny's ample rump to either side of her tufted tail while she grinned up at Michael.
The stallion slid very slowly and firmly into the skunk beneath him until he felt her bottom against his sheath. Honesty's body convulsed, rippling around his erection while she cried out and the room dimmed around them, but his attention was fully on the round white cheeks under his head. He still didn't know what his fascination with butts was, but the rabbit's soft muscles completely entranced him. Mischief reached past the small tail to spread Innocence's white buttocks just enough to expose the small puckering between them. Michael's haunches convulsed, pulling him out of the skunk and slamming him back in within half a heartbeat, prolonging her orgasm. He kept himself fully sheathed in her rippling loins until Mischief, with an ornery grin, poked her index finger into the bunny's tiny tail hole, eliciting a startled and indignant yelp from Innocence. The rabbit squirmed beneath the raccoon, but when her buttocks flexed they clamped around Mischief's hand, effectively holding the finger inside her.
Michael went wild. Completely losing his self control, he began pumping in and out of Honesty with unrestrained abandon. The hands massaging his scrotum and genitals darted away like sparrows startled from a shaken branch. Mischief looked up at him with her fingers engulfed by Innocence's clenched bottom, her eyes wide inside her dark mask with surprise at his powerful reaction. She slowly withdrew her hand from the squirming bunny's rump, and Innocence relaxed with a sigh of relief. Until she yelped again as the raccoon began using her backside as a bongo drum, slapping a rapid rhythm to accompany the swift, bass thuds of Michael pounding himself against the skunk's own rear. He snorted in breathless amusement as he watched Innocence's bottom jiggle under Mischief's flurrying hands. It sounded almost like the old "Wipe Out" rhythm. He lowered his head as if grazing to nuzzle the lower curves of the rabbit's butt, the soft white fur bouncing against his nose while the raccoon continued to smack it gleefully from every angle. His own titanic lunges provided the down beats to their improvised drum break each time his sheath and sack crashed against Honesty's straining rump, and he could feel that makeshift percussive mallet beginning to tense beneath him. Innocence was laughing hysterically.
When Mischief spread the hare's round cheeks again, her cadence ending while her fingers squeezed the voluptuous muscles, Michael sniffed the exposed tail hole excitedly, bucking frantically into a moaning Honesty. The raccoon released Innocence's soft bottom, and the rabbit's round muscles squeezed around his trespassing nose.
The world went black and silent. Touch was the only sense left to the big horse.
It was bliss.