FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

What follows is a yiffy story, it contains sex, masturbation, voyeurism, cubs, dominant females, cuckolding, and other stuff that make it very naughty and not fit for anyone under the age of 18. You have been warned! Authors note: I tried to significantly increase the yiffy quality of this chapter, in the end I just turned out making it a long chapter. Still tell me what you think! And yes, the ending is supposed to be like that, I'm a tease * * *

The Journal of Morgan Drythur January 9th

• * * I have decided to give the creatures names. I have named the male Adam and the female... I toyed briefly with calling her Eve. Both are names for the supposed first male and female from some long dead culture. But it did not sit well with me. Some god had created that Eve as a submissive sex toy for the male. I cannot imagine "she" would submit to anything even if she were a female which, I still doubt. I have decided to call her Alice after a particularly unpleasant bitch I new in my younger days. A so-called dominant female wolf that had the presumption to think that she would be better then I! She had been a friend of my mother from before I was born, third daughter of the house of Thurfane. She had been married to the young lord of House Me'lei at the age of 21, a significant upward movement for her, despite the fact that her husband was also her third cousin. Rumors circulated as to why she had married so late, or why she had married Jurim Me'lei, reported to be one of the most feared butt pirates in all the land. The rumors apparently were just that, as Alice began to produce offspring at an alarming rate. By the time I knew her she had at least a dozen pups, all of them wolves, and all of them of a passing resemblance to her husband. I of course did not know her complete story, as I barely past my first 20 years, stood before the voluptuous wolfess, of 38. She was the complete opposite of my young Krista. Where Krista is immature, innocent, her chest barely developed, her hips and rump just beginning to show the subtle curves of her femininity Alice was wanton, overdeveloped. I distinctly remember her ponderous heavy breasts, her large dark areolas and proud nipples barely concealed by the fold of her red silken robe. Her body was that of a mature woman, something I had never seen save for my own mother. She was not fat, though perhaps in her mind she could have stood to have lost a dozen pounds or more. I distinctly remember watching her as she talked to me. I cannot remember what she said, or if I was even listening at the time. My mind was totally lost in the sensuous red silk and the way it traced her many curves. She had left her robe tied loosely, and it had fallen open at her stomach, not quite a gut but far from the childish abdomen of young Krista. I could not blame the woman after all that stomach had carried at least a dozen pups by now. I was lost in her gray belly fur. Then she shifted. The sound of silk scraping across the fur of her thighs filled my ears while my eyes were lost in the deep shadowed triangle that lay between them. I imagined I could see her course thick pubic fur, dark, heavy, just like everything on the gray-black furred wolfess; so totally the opposite of Krista's nearly smooth loins. Is it strange that I should think of that coon, while lost the sexual musings of my past? I suppose it was the memory of the previous night. Mmmm, how perfect her black mask had looked dripping the thick white globs of my seed. I can imagine her in her innocence: that look of surprise, shock, fear, and that strange growing feeling of lust. The tingling she felt in her loins slowly turning the young girl into a woman. I know that feeling! That was the feeling Alice gave to me as she reclined on her couch. That bitch! That heavy, wanton slut! She watched me with those cold yellow eyes, as she moved. I was helpless before her; she was a puppeteer, invisible strings attached to her hefty thighs, ponderous breasts, her shadowed loins, her supple pouting lips, painted red. And those strings! Oh those strings, impossible to sever, at that moment I felt each of them led right to my swelling shaft. She had no magic, save for her own wanton femininity, and that was all she needed. Before I knew what I was doing I had dropped my pants to the floor of her private apartment, stroking my paws over my tan furred sheath, coaxing my pink meat free. I was no stranger to sexuality, for years I had done this same gesture every morning as I woke, but never before had someone watched me. Never before had I felt so wrong and so unable to stop. Alice smiled at me, slowly standing. She crossed the room, dropping her robe as she went. My paw almost became a blur as she stepped towards me, every step setting the layer of fat that coated her form jiggling. Her large dark nipples were hard and full. Those luscious circles were almost lost in her fur, made visible only by the fact that her areolas were nearly the size of my fist. She lifted her heavy breasts in her paws; guiding them to her muzzle, tongue flicking across her lustful nubs. I groaned in lust; never even in my fantasies had I imagined this! She pressed herself to me, pulling my head down into her full, plump breasts, offering me a thick, dark nipple even as a thin white stream dripped from it. I dove full force into her breasts, rolling her nipples around my mouth, suckling on it as if I were her cub. I felt her paw on my shaft, sending a jolt of pure electricity through me. She guided my shaft, already slick and oozing pre, between her thighs. She stroked her hips back and forth over me. I felt her slick lips part and drip their hot honey over the top of my prick. I lowered my hips instinctually, ready to shove myself into her steaming cunt, to take that bitch, to make her mine and cuckold her husband! But she pushed me back, knocking me to the plush carpet. My shaft pressed flat to my stomach as she sat on it, stroking herself back and forth, her wet wanton lips caressing both sides of my shaft. I whimpered, not used to having my malehood teased. It was incredible, I could barely see straight. "P- please," I whimpered. And she smiled down at me, knowing she had me. Only then did she lift her hips, slowly letting my cock climb to vertical. She lowered her hips so teasingly slowly. It felt like hours had passed before I felt her swampy heated depths envelope the first inch of my tapered cock. I tried to thrust into her, but her weight kept me pinned. She looked down at me grinning, looking at me as if I were a toy. She rose slowly, pulling her warmth away from me, a thick trail of her honey connecting my shaft to her tunnel, the gooey strand breaking as she moved over to her couch, she bent herself over the armrest by the side, her footpaws still on the ground. She lifted her tail, baring her heated, dripping sex. I didn't need any more instructions, I almost ran into her, so eager was I to bury myself in her steaming depths. In my memory, it almost seems as if I lost consciousness upon finally entering her, I certainly lost use of part of my mind. I mounted her as if I were a beast possessed. Exactly as she had wanted it I now realize. My hips pistoned roughly into her for what seemed like hours, her heated juices splashing on my sack with every thrust. God, that woman was an endless fountain of sweet cunt honey, and my fur was quickly becoming saturated with her and her scent. I was too lost in lust to even notice my knot forming. How the bitch screamed as I thrust my thick knot into her heated depths! I whimpered, unable to thrust any longer as every instinct and cell in my told me I had to, I felt trapped. Trapped in her steaming heated cunt. And then she began to clench. Never before and never again did I feel such strong practiced muscles stroking, squeezing my knot. If love was a battleground, this woman was a decorated veteran. I now realize what a slut she was, how I must have been the hundredth or thousandth male she had taken in this way. But at that instant I did not care! No sane male would. Guided by pure lustful instinct I thrust myself as far and as hard into her as I could, arching my back and letting out a powerful feral howl as I erupted, planting blast after blast of my hot seed into her quivering womanhood. I lay there on to top her, panting, my muzzle between her shoulder blades till my knot released. She stood, curling her tail under her, covering her sex with it as she gathered her clothes, not even looking back at me. "If I require your services again Morgan I shall send a servant for you. Tell your mother I said hello." I bowed dumbly, backing out the door, still naked. "Oh, and Morgan," she added as a parting shot, "if you howl like that when my husband is home, I'll scream rape and have the guards on your faster then you can blink." She dismissed me with a wave of her paw; I hated her and her dismissive dominant manner! But I lusted after her even more. Ahhh, anyway, back to my reason for recording my thoughts. I have important to details to record before I must break to bathe myself. You must be more careful about you memories Morgan. After all, you only have so many pairs of clean underwear. Ahem. I have just contacted my acquaintance. He ensured me that he delivered a proper breeding pair. Stating that he personally saw the male I now have at the command of a harem of 5 or 6 females before he captured it. The females defended the male, fiercely. He lost at least one worker in the male's collection. Though I have my doubts that the seemingly weak submissive creature in my basement could command himself let alone a harem, but I let my acquaintance continue. The female he tells me was taken from a separate area of the plane, while hunting. In this I believe him. Always the shrewd businessman, he is quick to offer me another breeding pair, at nearly thrice the price of the original two. He claims that the beasts have become more wary since he took the last set. The males seem to be much more rare, most likely hiding. I smiled, knowing that I had seen a rare chance for victory. I proudly tell him I seek only another female. This one... I tell him, must show sexual characteristics or he shall receive no pay. He grumbled, even as I agreed to his still exorbitant fee. He told me he would meet me in the city in a week's time to inform me of the status of his search. * * *

The Journal of Morgan Drythur January 17th

• * * The dreams... they do not stop. I awake each night, my fur sticky with my own seed. My dreams give me no rest! I have avoided sleep for days. Yet, my loins will give me no rest even when I awaken! More then once I have eyed my ward... Oh, her wanton promiscuous innocence! Unbeknownst to her I have placed a scryer in her chambers. I most delight in watching her sleep. Last night was warm - it is an unpleasantly mild winter, at least for those of us who have had their winter coat come in - and she slept in only her shift. Normally she sleeps as if a child, her thick ringed tail curled between her legs. I almost expect to see her thumb in her mouth. Those sweet pure lips, lips that never have known the touch of a man! Oh how I could teach her to suck! Suck with such pure innocence! But how could I? How could I dare spoil her?! Wanton lustful nymph! Pure temple virgin! Tonight, oh wondrous night! When the heat made it too much to use a blanket, or even her tail... Ahhh, the subtle curves of her body! The lifting of her knee! The sound of the thin silk sliding over her fur! The image is so poor, grainy. But still I can see her. Mmmm, how I long for her, how every night I imagine my paw was hers as I stroke my hard, long wolfhood. Mmmm, yes, just like that Krista! Squeeze the base! Mmmm, yes... Can you feel my knot you little virgin? Oh, I can tell you can. You love it tramp! Whore! You're moving. Mmmmm, yes, yes, you temptress. I watch in disbelief, my paw stroking faster, she was opening her legs. Her pure untouched loins point right at the scyer; so innocent in her sleep! I can see them both the wanton temptress! The thin clamshell, the pale rosebud! They call to me. I can hear them! They say "take us!" Ohhh, how exquisite the stretching and tearing of her young flesh would be! Not like those stretched out whores in the city! Not like fat, slutty, loose Alice! Does that bitch even remember me? Am I just another notch on her scarred bedpost? Ohhh... but Krista, you will remember me! You will remember how I mounted you! How you screamed and cried and bled! You will remember me! B- but how... How can I touch an angel? Can I tear off her wings? Cast her into the base life of all women? To be interchangeable sex toys and breeders for men? No... not Krista. She must be saved. Must be different from those whores! Whores! Yes... mom, now there is a prospect! How they will bow and scrape! They would beg for me! As if by drinking from me they could gain my powers! Mmmm, yes! I must go to the city! I must have these whores! Mmmm, Krista, how beautiful your body! How pure! I must take it! I must ruin you! But how can I? To spoil such perfection is criminal! I should release the creatures and go to the city were so many carnal pleasure await me. What? No! What am I saying, this is madness! Such strange silly thoughts, they come as if from outside. Too little sleep... too little sex. If I were to let them go the only thing my beautiful phallus would be good for would be food for the crows when they hang me naked from the castle battlements! Morgan! Think! Isolation has disturbed your mind! It is this cottage, and its denizens! The young temptress... the monsters... I must escape. Ohhh, but why fear the creatures. They will be dead so.... They seem to grow weaker every day, their aqua flesh has faded to gray, they barely move from their corner of the cave! Ohhh, why did you give them that cubby Morgan? It is almost hidden from the scryers! Foolish... but it is so small! They cannot both fit inside! And the female has forced the male into the crevice, pressing herself as deep into it as possible... as if shielding him. Ahhh.... yes.... into the city! We must meet him! We must make arrangements! We must leave now. No, no Morgan... leave the book... Krista knows of it! She will record... the creatures' deaths... Record... While we go to the city... to meet him... and the whores... oh yes! The whores! * * *

The Journal of Morgan Drythur January 18th

• * * H- Hello? Is this thing on? Ooo, look how it writes! Hehehe. The quick brown fox humped over the lazy- No! Jumped you stupid book! Ummm.... Delete that! Remove that! Erase! Ohhh, poot. Anyway, this is Krista Lanchunt-Ovanr. I'm 12 years old, a raccoon, daughter of Gul Lanchunt and Meldra Ovanr. The Master has left me a note; it says he has gone to the city. I think. The handwriting is beyond terrible. It's no wonder he makes books do all the writing. Maybe real noble people don't have to practice handwriting for days on end like us middle class girls. But then again, Master has not been well lately, he has been walking about in a daze since... well, since Adam and Alice got here. He kept mumbling about boars... Always the boars! How he wasn't to poke the boars. Master is so strange sometimes. Hmmm, when the next food shipment comes perhaps I will request pork. Vera knew some wonderful recipes with pork.... She knew wonderful recipes with everything. Oh, how I miss her cooking, my own hardly compares. Anyway, Master's note says that I should continue the observation of "the creatures" while he is away. I do not know why he insists on calling them creatures. They seem nice and even cute. When they first got here their skin was so pretty! It had all those colors... now they look gray and sick. I'm sure it must be something about that cave. It is dark and dank and nasty, maybe they'd be happier if I let them out in the sun! We could all go swimming! Huh? Krista that was an odd thought... They're not friends. Besides Master would be so cross if I let them go. He would probably beat me. I wonder what it would be like... I've never been hit by anyone but Mother before... not by a man. I bet it would hurt... hurting is bad.... But I, I remember once I heard Mother and Father yelling. She cried for him to beat her. And he did. I heard the first smack. The entire house must have. Then all night long her cries for Father to hit her harder and faster, again and again. I didn't hear her get hit, but she kept begging... and she sounded so happy. It was rare to hear mother sound happy. Anyway, back to my duties. I had hoped the Master would teach me something magical! So far all he's taught me is how to move a few stones from place to place or how to make a cooking fire. I've heard real mages can fly or throw lightening bolts! Call down pillars of fire from the sky! They're like gods! But so far being a mage really sucks! Most of what I do is sweep floors and cook. Master says I'm not naturally inclined enough. I think he doesn't like me cause my parents are trades people. That's ok, I don't like my parents too much either. Father is almost never home and Mother, she is just a terrible bit- Ohhh, ewww was that a mouse?! Fireball! Iceball! Ummm... Catball? None of that works of course, but oh what fun I would have if I were really a mage... So here I am, the great mage's apprentice, sweeping floors. Don't think that badly of me, it's not like I never did this before. I remember once when I was 10, I watched my maid Vera sweep the floors. It seemed pointless, yet intriguing. It was almost like a dance; I remember once I took the broom she always stored in the small closet of my private parlor and I danced too. In my childishness I copied the dance, but not the chore. I recall how mother burst in on my dancing. I had been in the middle of a dip with my broom partner, his length tucked away between my thighs to keep his clumsy self from falling. Upon seeing the broom and I, my mother almost attacked us. She tore the broom away from me, telling me it was a tool of peasants and a proper lady should never touch one. I told her she was touching the broom. I was punished quite forcefully and painfully. In those years I lacked the words to describe it, but I knew, knew in my heart, my mother was a pompous bitch. I never let her know of my continued dancing with the broom; a guilty pleasure I did not give up for sometime. But, more importantly, I never told her of the electric join she sent though me as she had pulled that long wooden handle out from between my legs; It had been the first time my loins had ever been touched like that. It was a guilty pleasure I do not think I shall ever give up. Oh! Oh! The devil take me! Oh, what shall I do!? Master! He will beat me for sure! If he comes home. If he notices? I can clean up the pieces. Oh, Krista! It's his scrying orb! He'll notice! You broke it! He'll send you away! He'll send you home! Or... maybe he'll just beat me... that would be so much better! How Mother would yell! She definitely beat you, all the while saying 'a young lady must have grace.' More pointless hours pacing about the mansion with a bowel of water on your head! And for what!? Just to be married off to some old fat businessman? To grow fat with his babies!? If even that! They will be so disappointed! Vera once told me that much of their money came from slaves... but Father wouldn't - couldn't - do that to his own daughter! Could he? Would he?! Of course he could! You're the fifth born... Why can't you be like your big sisters? Married... fat with babies... mindless... You are nothing to them, Krista. Just a wedding, just another whore! Worse! At least whores are straight forward in their sale... They are more honest by far, more honest then a wif- Oh, fuck me! The pendant! The book's been -- * * *

Recording of the Only Surviving Scryer That Evening

• * * The young coon paced about the room, clearly agitated. She repeatedly clenched and released her tiny paws, her thick ringed tail swaying about in anger or fear, a shard of pink glass in her paws. She rolled the shard over and over in her paws, mumbling to herself, her voice just audible on the recording. "What shall we do, what shall we do? A bath... yes, a warm bath... Mother always said that the mind works best when the body is clean." The young coon, sat at the small desk, facing a large glass mirror, the image of her simple bed reflected in the glass. She raised her paws to her dark mask, running her finger under her eyes over the puffy swollen flesh. She had been crying for hours. Her stomach was tied tight into knots. With a sigh, she began to undress. First, as was the local fashion, the girl untied the sash around her dress. On an older woman, the sash would have fastened just under her breasts, lifting them, separating them from the rest of her body, accentuating her femininity. But on this girl there was little to see. Her paws slid to her back, unlacing her simple dress. The fabric fell from her shoulders even as she lifted her arms, untying the proper bun from her hair. The dark black locks cascaded down over her gray-blue shoulders, stopping just shy of her thick ringed tail. She spent several moments brushing her long hair, throwing her locks over her shoulder so she could reach them. She stood, her paws pulling the linen dress over her head, the silk of her shift getting caught in the dress, lifting to her stomach, the mirror gifted with the sight of her young hips, now bare for the scryer's ever watchful eye. Her pale underfur, almost pure white save for a hint of blue, caressed her young hips, only beginning to show the widening and sensuous curves of womanhood. Her fur was too thin and downy to conceal much, and her perfectly molded neatherlips were on bold accidental display. Still too young to be obviously sexual, but the cleft between her labias was clearly visible, before her blue paws smooth down her shift, hiding herself again. She smiles, looking into the mirror. Turning her body this way and that. "It's not so bad... You're a pretty girl. You'll probably grow up just like your sister. She made a wonderful bride." The young coon pulls her silken shift over her head, standing naked before the looking glass, which, unbeknownst to her conceals an invisible scrying orb. She raises her paws, cupping her young, budding breasts. At this point they were little more then small hill crowned with pink nipples, but the swell of the flesh, her wide chest and her raccoon genetics - making her prone to packing on extra fat in a variety of places - promised that with time, those breasts would develop into quite lovely orbs. "Sister was so popular... She had huge tits..." The coon giggled. "They were so ugly though! You could she the veins through her fur and those huge, dark, ugly nipples! Bigger then a tea cup! And she was always breast-feeding. Said she liked the feel." The young coon looks down, addressing her chest. "I don't care if you never grow." She paused. "Well, maybe you could grow a little..." The cooncub stands, padding across the floor on soft paws, to a small wooden tub in one corner of the room. She bends over, treating the hidden scyer to an innocent flash of her sex and tailhole under her raised tail. She lifts a wooden bucket, dipping it into a small well next to the tub, the water most likely magically pumped up from below. She lifts the bucket over her head, her ears flattening as the cool water hit her. "Ohhh... F- fuck me!" The girl rubs her matted fur, attempting to return warmth to her body. She makes several obscure hand gestures, a faint red glow filling the well as heat is magically channeled into it. She shivers even more as her paws brush over her tiny now hard nipples. "Ohhh... Master will be so mad. It is all over for this pretty coon in the mirror isn't it?" She turned towards the mirror, looking at her reflection, smiling as her left paw slowly slid over her stomach, leaving tacking in her wet fur as she dipped it between her thighs. Her paw gently strokes those nubile lips for a few seconds, her right paw slowly squeezing her left breast. She filled the bucket several more times from the small well beside the tub, lifting the now steaming water over her head, pouring it over her young body. She set the bucket down, returning her paws to her erotic exploration of her own body, only pausing to occasionally recover herself in hot water. Her eyes never leave those of her reflection. "Ohhh," she sighs. "I... I shouldn't... The- then again... Mother... said a bath was good for relaxing... but... oh... I think I know a better way. I wonder if this... mmm... is what it will be like when I'm married." She squeezed her left breasts tightly, "Ohhh... you're so fucked Krista... So much fear... so... Oh you're beating so fast little heart. Fear... fear and sex. Are they always together like this?" The young coon, stepped from her bathing tub, dripping, nude. She sat on her chair, examining herself in the mirror as she placed one of her ankles on each side of the desk, her legs wide open, her body there for her eyes to wander - and for the hidden scryer's as well. Her eyes focused on her immature slit, her lips just beginning to thicken in anticipation, the deep pink of her inner fold just beginning to appear as her slit puffed and opened. The girl licked her lips as her eyes drilled into her growing arousal. "P- pussy... my pussy. So pretty." She watched her right paw move, looking at it as if it were a separate entity, the delicate fingers tracing her delicate inner lips. "Ahhh, yes," the girl moaned, "j- just like Vera showed me... Ohhh... her cheap peasant pussy wasn't so pink a pretty as mine! Ohhh, look at it! Look at my pussy! Y- yes, touch it! Up and down.... up and down until the flower blooms... then... Ohhhh.... into the petals... stroking up... up.... ohhhh... until the bud!" The girl raised her other paw, squeezing her soft tit flesh, teasing the nipple even as her other paw stroked the growing bud of her young clit. She stroked her slit with her index and middle fingers, her finger tips just tracing the entrance of her vagina proper and her thumb stroke her throbbing clitoris. She looked into the mirror, eyes on her womanhood, as immature as it might be. Using her thumb and ring finger she spread herself wide, by pushing her thick, puffy labias apart. Her eyes locked on the mirror trying to look into her depths. "Ohhhh... Vera! Y- you said to put my fingers in there... but... but... I can't I just can't!" The girl whimpered pulling her fingers away from her opening with shame. "If... If I put them in there, then I won't be a virgin right? If I'm not... then I'll never get married and Father will make me a slave! Ohhh... Its so hard being proper! Sometimes I wish I were like you Vera! I... Ohhh god! I wish I could fuck everyone like you do!" Her fingers had quickly returned to her slit, fingers tracing over her eager pink opening, stroking her hymen right below it, as ignorant of its name and location as many. She blushed more, the red beginning to show even through her fur. Her body trembled. Her nipples grew into little rocks. Her tongue hung from her mouth. The air reeked of lust, fear and approaching orgasm. "Ohhhh oh... I... I'm going to break!" The cooncub blushed into her reflection, her loins moist, and her heart pounding in her ears as she slowed her paw. "I... I'm too scared. O- one day," she told her reflection, "we'll go all the way together... But I'm scared." She blushed; her body shaking as she slowly, reluctantly, pulled her paws from her well slicked sex. She rose, redoning her shift, her young nipples still poking through the silk. She crawled into her bed, smiling as she pulled the blanket up to her chin. Her breathing slowed as her smile faded. She was soon fast asleep. * * *

The Journal of Morgan Drythur January 19th

• * * You will have to forgive me Mr. Book, I was upset. See, in my sweeping I bumped the post containing the Master's orb. I was so upset at the time, but I've taken a nice bath and... relaxed since then. I probably hit the orb with this large awkward tail of mine... Oh, this tail gets me in a lot of trouble; even though it is the thing that makes us coonies so cute! Ahem... How doesn't really matter only what happened. The other scryers of the cottage, the one's outside and the one's in Adam and Alice's cave, they were all tied to the one I smashed and well... my carelessness has blinded the cottage! There is nothing I can do. Master could surely create a new orb, but he never taught me how, and he is away now. He said I could never understand something like that. That it was too complex for me! But I'm trying! Maybe I wasn't born with great powers or proper bearing... but I can learn them can't I? I believe that. I believe that with enough time and hard work I could be as good as Master. It might take me months, even a year but I'll be great I won't just be another wife! Anyway... since, I can't fix anything that I broke, I'll just have to do their work for them! I will make you as detailed as possible, Mr. Book; maybe then, when Master returns he will not be so mad... Mother always said I had a bad habit - all my habits were always bad - of speaking my thoughts aloud - as opposed to aquiet? Well, here if will be of use! My first stop is Adam and Alice's cave! I wonder if the exploding scryers frightened them last night. As I peak my head over the grating in the heavy cave door, everything looks normal. No, better then normal! Alice is moving! A lot. And her skin is looking all pretty and blue again! She's pacing about the cave. She bends over to sniff at the shattered shards of pink glass - scryers are always pink. I wonder why? Behind her there is a thin, unpleasant puddle on the floor, I can smell it as soon as I open the door, vomit... Are you ok, Alice? She gives me a look, the black eyes and smooth feral body somehow expressing the idea of 'what do you think?' I lock the door behind me and enter the cave. I get two paw lengths before all my fur stands on end. There is a tingly all magical wall across the passage. I can't see anything, but I can feel it pushing me away. It was designed to keep things on one side on that side, keeping me out as surely as it kept the two Morgani in. Touching it gives me a feeling like my arm is asleep, but all over... little pin and needles all over my skin - I never understood that phrase, isn't a pin basically a needle? It is not fun. How do I turn the wards off.... Oh, right, the hand gestures! G- Good Alice. She looks at the floor, the shattered glass bauble at her paws. She looks from the glass to the vomit and back at me. The gesture I somehow understand. The scryers were what was making you sick... this is important! I must tell Master! I reach out my paw, slowly, petting her. She doesn't move or flinch, but she don't act like she's being petted. The way she sits and moves, she reminds me of a really big doggie a lot of the time. But she doesn't act like one at all. Maybe I should try and treat her like a person! I lean in and give her a little kiss on her muzzle. Silly Alice, petting is a good thing! Suddenly in this position, I remember just how many sharp teeth Alice has. You wouldn't hurt me would you Alice? She does not react, but somehow I trust her. As if she were a guard dog, dangerous, but only to mean people. And I'm not mean! Master had taught me a few simple spells, but never once did he teach me a useful spell for cleaning throw up... or poop for that mater. Sigh, time to fetch the bucket and the rag again. Here I am the great apprentice... a scrubbing girl! I would complain... but I'm in trouble already. I always wondered if Master designed this cave after Alice's home. Dark, dank. The stone is gray, cold, the whole place lit by a glowing ceiling moss, giving it all a greenish glow. I wonder if it is a depressing for her as it is for me. But I guess... if it's the same as her home- It's not? Huh, why did I just- Alice! What are you d- doing... !? Wha- what... Alice... no... stop... stop... Shouldn't! It... it... it's my first.... Such a long, long tongue! Ohhh, its so big, so... far... does it ever stop!? No! This is wrong? Wrong! Flee! Flee! Get away Krista! Get away! This is wrong... it doesn't feel good! It can't feel good... Alice... Alice is a girl! No... it is bad... very bad! The door... don't... did I lock the door? Who cares!? Run away, Krista! Run away!