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Gretchen is getting into alot of her dark places here. This is technically a sexy times story but it's more an exploration of things and if you are not in a good headspace to read someone sexualizing their own self loathing then this isn't a good read for you. \n\nDon't worry. I doubt it will be vital to the plot, I wrote this more for character insight.\n\nStill, if you do read I hope you enjoy.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Trigger Warning

No, really. Gretchen is getting into alot of her dark places here. This is technically a sexy times story but it's more an exploration of things and if you are not in a good headspace to read someone sexualizing their own self loathing then this isn't a good read for you.

Don't worry. I doubt it will be vital to the plot, I wrote this more for character insight.

Still, if you do read I hope you enjoy.", "writing": "Collared Chapter 24: Coping\nBy TerraMGP\n\n\tBlackness held a mercy. Something about blackness and solitude permeated the soul. A cold compress on some deep spiritual burn which yearned for the momentary relief. Yet like a burn it was never enough. Soothing such wounds always brought about a desire for more comfort. More relief. Before long the cold, the dark and the solitude became the normal. They became the thing a spirit needed to keep itself from pain even worse than what had been there before.\n\n\tGretchen lay there in the dark. Her ugly, chubby body was stripped half nude and the bare fur of her back pushed needily into the chilled paint shell of ancient sheetrock. She drank in the solitude. Drank in the quiet of an empty house with only the occasional rattle of pipes or creak of some unseen board to shake her from the soothing oblivion.\n\n\tHer uncle was a doctor. She remembered him explaining once how opioid addiction worked. At first it would simply numb a bit of the pain. Everything worked as intended. Deathly agony would fade in the back of a persons mind as neurochemicals helped the patient cope with injuries which resulted in pain worse than death.\n\n\tBut then, that was only how it started. The wound would heal but the patient’s ability to deal with pain went down. The chemistry of their brain became utterly ravaged. An Oxycodone addict may start out in genuine need for the relief yet by the end of it people would be so broken that skipping a dose would make simple living into raw torture.\n\n\tThe darkness got her to normal. Her hate got her to normal. Hate of herself. Of a stupid, worthless punching bag who should be grateful to get tossed into the trash and left to rot. She was an ugly, stupid, unsexy creature worthy of nothing but the hate of others. It made her wet. It made her shiver. She was swimming in that contempt and disgust.\n\n\tEvery once in a while Gretchen became aware of that. How much she needed it. How much she relied on it. She’d been doing it for longer than she could recall. Longer than was probably ‘right’ considering how young she’d been when she started. Sitting there alone with nothing but her untrimmed little digger claws and a head full of horrible thoughts. \n\n\tShe deserved it. Deserved to be tortured. Deserved to suffer. She ‘wanted’ to suffer. Really suffer. To not want what was happening to her. A paw rose up to the teens breast. It felt ‘too’ soft somehow. Baggy and blown out and used. It wasn’t the tiny perky and oh so firm offering of her beloved Mistress. One rough squeeze reminded her of that. Paws and claws sank in while twisting at the semi dead nerve endings. Nerves she was sure had to be worn out already simply from how little she felt. She pushed her palm to squish at her nipple and tried to grind it in. \n\n\tHer mind flashed to pictures of far cuter cartoon characters in pictures where they’d have huge rings though their nipples. Big, thick heavy things to tug and help hurt a toy with. Not dainty jewelry at all but something shameful that no shirt could hide. Something that would be hooked up to strings and pulled until the girl in question felt real pain. Sometimes perhaps joined with a nose ring to make the girl look like Chattel.\n\n\tThat’s all Gretchen was after all. Chattel. She tried to swat her breast but it was impossible to get any real leverage. A few more firm swats, then a few at her face. Harder, faster, always limited by something innate in her stupid fucked up brain. Her body refused to give her even the one thing she deserved. So out of frustration she hit harder. Soon delivering a painfully awkward punch right to the face.\n\n\tThat one sent her down. It also sent her paw between her legs. She arched a finger in between her legs and began to hump it. The lack of trimming on her digger made it hurt that much more and she writhed her hips awkwardly while trying to reach it all deeper, past the point where the scratches on her tender insides gave real pain. \n\n\t“If they weren’t so nice.” Gretchen let herself imagine. Imagine herself with big nipple rings and a nose ring. Imagine herself stripped naked with all manner of horrible things written on her. She flailed at the windowsill until grabbing an object. An overly firm otter cock shaped toy she’d bought online. She opened her mouth and pushed it in until the gag reflex hit. That feeling. The sensation of being unable to breath. The sensation of being trapped. She pushed her hips up and struggled to reach around and dig deeper into that warm rape hole while hammering her face. She’d look so stupid dressed up while doing this. Dragged in to some dirty bathroom at an anime convention. Dozens of notes about how worthless she was, her darkest and most self hating thoughts sprawled and scrawled over her body in every soft fold and flap. It would be something her owners could use her for. Some way that the two in-love angels would be able to put the pitiful little mole to work without having to look at her or humor her.\n\n\tThere was a small jolt of pain. Gretchen had pulled her finger out and used her little claw to scratch herself. Not quite enough to cut. Not yet. She squished her legs in firmly and let the toy flop out from her muzzle covered in thick ropes of spit.\n\n\t“Sorry I’m not cute enough to cosplay.” she sobbed though her moans. She imagined people being angry. Having to suck dick after dick until her head got fuzzy. No, not suck. She wasn’t worth that much participation. She deserved to be stuck in a room full of horny, angry strangers. She deserved to have her face raped and her makeup ruined. Dirty, sweaty boys and girls who were worthless losers almost at her level. Perverts who were, like her, inundated with violent porn. Who would punch and kick at her between ramming cocks into her mouth and pissing on her face. Gretchen rubbed the dildo she’d choked on over her face and imagined it was some awful-smelling con-goer who hadn’t bathed the whole time he was there. Imagined him moaning the name of an actual cute waifu while violently fucking her face and hammering her throat.\n\n\tThe dildo went in again. Just like that. She tried to pull another from the shelf while mumbling for the imaginary boy to stop. Eventually she was able to wriggle and wrangle a large feline shaped toy free. It was awkwardly pulled into place and with no real prep she began wriggling and jamming it against her folds. No condom. No lube. Nobody should care about her safety or happiness. She wasn’t there to get off. Soon she had managed to get the toy somewhat stable on the bed and was bouncing herself on it. She let her brain dance though the massive folio of horrific porn and just tried to imagine her phantom attackers dishing out abuse while such things swam though her head. Of slave mothers ‘teaching’ how to be sluts by assisting with rape. Of worthless losers shaved and trimmed and branded to be kept in small cages as disposable public sex toys. Of cute girls tied to chairs and stimulated with vibes for hours while being forced to watch their friends getting raped until they got off on it.\n\n\tThese thoughts and so many more all took over the initial fantasy in turn. She flicked unwillingly between them. Being in each spot, being each of those degrade non-persons she had burned into her mind over the years. The dildo came out of her mouth and she licked it frantically in the hopes that its imaginary owner would not tell her Master she was slacking off. After a few moments this was joined by a paw choking her and digger claws scratching at her tender folds to add pain with what little pleasure the self-rape of the sex toy gave her.\n\n\tSoon she wasn’t even sure what dark fantasy was still in her head. There was added frustration as she found herself unable to even keep that straight. All she knew was the need to be treated like she deserved and that her owners were too good to even put into the positions of dominating her. She had to earn that, and she could never earn that.\n\n\tGretchen moved the dildo that had been in her cunt back a bit and began to wriggle it against the tip of her ass. She then moved the otter cock dildo between her legs, now sitting up while she tried to force herself down on both shafts at once. It was agony with both going in. She wasn’t really prepared for that. She wasn’t some random girl from a drawing. Her anatomy was real, and it screamed at the unfamiliar feelings. \n\n\tWorse still was the frustration. The inability to hold on to a single thought or feeling which was slowly consuming everything else. Violent porn ran rampant though her mind and none of the fantasies settled. Audio clips of a girl begging for a buyer so she wouldn’t be disposed of meshed with the girls of Persona 5 being brainwashed and turned into unwilling fuckpuppets. Then fighting game characters being beaten and claimed by the big bads of their games which shifted near instantly to Peach and Daisy being Bowser’s broken rape trophies while worshiping his monster cock while they were bred with heirs and toys for him.\n\nThough it all she continued to hammer herself down, to choke herself, to maul at her breasts. Scratches and bruises formed bit by bit and her whole body ached while sweat began to build up under the fur.\n\n\tEventually her body and will both gave out. Gretchen collapsed in a heap on her bed. The already disheveled mop of curly hair on her head was now a wiry nest. Tear stains and fluids covered her face and her skirt and especially her bed. The room felt colder than before. Probably because of how warm she’d gotten, but who the hell knew.\n\n\tShe rolled herself back and pressed up against the window. The rock nerd in her worried it might break because of the sudden thermal shock. The self loathing loser in her wondered if it’d just break because of her fat ass. It didn’t. It was nice and cool. That along with the masturbation session had apparently seen fit to reward her with a nice little splash of dopamine. An undeserved reward for a small fraction of what she really deserved, and what she really longed for.\n\n\tNo, that wasn’t it. She knew what else she longed for. She’d seen it yesterday. Between her Master and the annoying, insufferable girl wearing her Mistress’ face. Between Justin and Ozzy, too. And with her Mistress and Becky and Esme.\n\n\tEventually she fumbled for her phone. A quick flick to unlock and she sifted though her various play lists. Eventually she found the right one, hammering the play button and letting the phone drop as ‘How soon is now’ began its warbling opening.\n\n\tAnd she cried.\n\n--------------------\n\n\tMentors came with expectations. Hui had always known that. She’d been fortunate that many of her teachers had taken a liking to her over the years. Some people might call it a teachers pet. Gretchen had read enough Hentai to know none of her relationships with her educators reached into that realm.\n\n\tAt least not yet.\n\n\tThe problem was writing. Or rather, knowing what to write. She didn’t. Ideas sparked up but most of them were silly stupid fan fiction. It wasn’t that she was incapable of making an original character. It was that every time she did it felt like a character she already knew from some other work of media. Why bother world building something if people would just point out that it was ripping off something else.\n\n\tPlus there were the self inserts. So many self inserts. Every one of her characters ended up feeling like someone she knew. Every protagonist was her or Justin or Gretchen. Occasionally she’d hit on something really out there up until she realized it just felt like someone Esme would come up with. Because why wouldn’t the theater kid consume every role that felt more like a role than someone she just knew?\n\n\t“I think I need the setting first.” She sighed while staring at the computer screen, feeling it burn a hole back at her. Mz Peterson was known for her world building, so if Hui was going to follow in her footsteps then that was where she should focus anyways. \n\n\tExcept she wasn’t thinking about settings right now. She was thinking about her loves. In particular, Gretchen.\n\n\tOh, she loved her Master as much as ever, and in her mind the moratorium on titles was lifted even if he hadn’t agreed to it yet. But she had been rowing to love her cute, chubby little bundle of obedience more and more in the months since they had met. She was a bit jealous of Justin in that he could spend every day with her, just as she was jealous of her spending time with him. She’d thought about costumes to sew for her. Willow from the Owl house. Beth from Total Drama. There were so many adorable, sexy characters Hui could play with vicariously though her pet.\n\n\tMore than that, though, she thought about her pet. ‘Her’ Gretchen. Gretchen did belong to her after all. She’d laid her claim on that sweet fairy of a girl the moment she caught her in that shed back at camp. She could imagine the lovely girl there now. Naked and kneeling in a proper slave position, one of the only worthwhile things to come from the nightmare that was Gor. Her soft pillow tits on display, ready for Hui to tease and caress them with her stocking feet while the red panda girl feigned her distraction with writing some story. The way those devoted garnet-brown eyes would gaze up at Hui with love and longing. The tender blush on her cheeks when Hui decided to say her name and reach out to caress behind one of her ears.\n\n\tEven that would be enough, really. True she needed her pet to feel abused at times, just as she longed for her Master to abuse them both. But there was something else. Something so simple and pure about staring at her property. At her love. Even the simple admission that’s what she was. Her little love. \n\n\tThe thought was so appealing. Of coming home, home to a house she shared with Gretchen and Justin. Of seeing that look of love and devotion as Gretchen came to serve Hui snacks on the couch. The mix of surprise, frustration and embarrassed bliss as Hui laid the adorable mole down on the couch and then lay on her like a body pillow. Hui dug her socked heels into the carpet and giggle-snorted as she dreamed of aggressively little-spooning to Gretchen’s bigger spoon. But to be wrapped in that warmth. To feel the other girls breathing, to feel their hearts beat. Knowing that even if Gretchen didn’t quite like the game Hui decided to play or care about the random trivia she was spouting, their love was enough that she could forgive Hui her hyper active ranting and raving.\n\n\tShe’d rub that soft downy fur oh so tenderly and patiently go over why her choice of ship was the best ship. Then she’d turn around and without warning kiss the bored mole maid right on her lips. Not even a French kiss. At least not much. Something chaste enough to draw nervous giggles. Something gentle enough to simply tease the taste Hui had grown to love from that soft bundle of cute whom she had collared.\n\n\tGretchen would ask her to stop, naturally. Soft little protests of pure embarrassment that Hui would heed only insomuch as it might help drive her pretty pet’s need for another kiss. \n\n\tEventually, and perhaps mercifully, Hui imagined herself wrapped with Hui in a nice tight blanket burrito. Attempts to explain the continuity of ‘the world ends with you’ games cast off by the wayside and replaced with an assault of affirmations on the cuddly girl. How she was so cute, so smart, so sexy. How nice it was to gaze into her eyes. Reminders that she was Hui’s property, and that Hui was possessive. That she’d never let Gretchen go. Not ever. That she wanted to love and cherish and savor the cute mole for the rest of their lives just as much as she did her Master.\n\n\tOh, Gretchen would protest, naturally. It’s what she did. But if the mole wasn’t going to love herself then Hui just had to love her enough for both of them. Then with Justin pitched in that just made it a net positive. That was just science!\n\n\tThe warm thoughts soon drifted enough that Hui opened her eyes again and gazed at the blank word processor in front of her. As nice as the fantasies were, they wouldn’t be a reality until later. Not until she was with her loves once more.\n\n\t“Ok then.” Hui muttered as she slapped her cheeks in a manner she’d seen in anime thousands of times before. “World building. New setting. Maybe something Cyberpunk. Let’s-a go.”\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Collared Chapter 24: Coping
By TerraMGP

\tBlackness held a mercy. Something about blackness and solitude permeated the soul. A cold compress on some deep spiritual burn which yearned for the momentary relief. Yet like a burn it was never enough. Soothing such wounds always brought about a desire for more comfort. More relief. Before long the cold, the dark and the solitude became the normal. They became the thing a spirit needed to keep itself from pain even worse than what had been there before.

\tGretchen lay there in the dark. Her ugly, chubby body was stripped half nude and the bare fur of her back pushed needily into the chilled paint shell of ancient sheetrock. She drank in the solitude. Drank in the quiet of an empty house with only the occasional rattle of pipes or creak of some unseen board to shake her from the soothing oblivion.

\tHer uncle was a doctor. She remembered him explaining once how opioid addiction worked. At first it would simply numb a bit of the pain. Everything worked as intended. Deathly agony would fade in the back of a persons mind as neurochemicals helped the patient cope with injuries which resulted in pain worse than death.

\tBut then, that was only how it started. The wound would heal but the patient’s ability to deal with pain went down. The chemistry of their brain became utterly ravaged. An Oxycodone addict may start out in genuine need for the relief yet by the end of it people would be so broken that skipping a dose would make simple living into raw torture.

\tThe darkness got her to normal. Her hate got her to normal. Hate of herself. Of a stupid, worthless punching bag who should be grateful to get tossed into the trash and left to rot. She was an ugly, stupid, unsexy creature worthy of nothing but the hate of others. It made her wet. It made her shiver. She was swimming in that contempt and disgust.

\tEvery once in a while Gretchen became aware of that. How much she needed it. How much she relied on it. She’d been doing it for longer than she could recall. Longer than was probably ‘right’ considering how young she’d been when she started. Sitting there alone with nothing but her untrimmed little digger claws and a head full of horrible thoughts.

\tShe deserved it. Deserved to be tortured. Deserved to suffer. She ‘wanted’ to suffer. Really suffer. To not want what was happening to her. A paw rose up to the teens breast. It felt ‘too’ soft somehow. Baggy and blown out and used. It wasn’t the tiny perky and oh so firm offering of her beloved Mistress. One rough squeeze reminded her of that. Paws and claws sank in while twisting at the semi dead nerve endings. Nerves she was sure had to be worn out already simply from how little she felt. She pushed her palm to squish at her nipple and tried to grind it in.

\tHer mind flashed to pictures of far cuter cartoon characters in pictures where they’d have huge rings though their nipples. Big, thick heavy things to tug and help hurt a toy with. Not dainty jewelry at all but something shameful that no shirt could hide. Something that would be hooked up to strings and pulled until the girl in question felt real pain. Sometimes perhaps joined with a nose ring to make the girl look like Chattel.

\tThat’s all Gretchen was after all. Chattel. She tried to swat her breast but it was impossible to get any real leverage. A few more firm swats, then a few at her face. Harder, faster, always limited by something innate in her stupid fucked up brain. Her body refused to give her even the one thing she deserved. So out of frustration she hit harder. Soon delivering a painfully awkward punch right to the face.

\tThat one sent her down. It also sent her paw between her legs. She arched a finger in between her legs and began to hump it. The lack of trimming on her digger made it hurt that much more and she writhed her hips awkwardly while trying to reach it all deeper, past the point where the scratches on her tender insides gave real pain.

\t“If they weren’t so nice.” Gretchen let herself imagine. Imagine herself with big nipple rings and a nose ring. Imagine herself stripped naked with all manner of horrible things written on her. She flailed at the windowsill until grabbing an object. An overly firm otter cock shaped toy she’d bought online. She opened her mouth and pushed it in until the gag reflex hit. That feeling. The sensation of being unable to breath. The sensation of being trapped. She pushed her hips up and struggled to reach around and dig deeper into that warm rape hole while hammering her face. She’d look so stupid dressed up while doing this. Dragged in to some dirty bathroom at an anime convention. Dozens of notes about how worthless she was, her darkest and most self hating thoughts sprawled and scrawled over her body in every soft fold and flap. It would be something her owners could use her for. Some way that the two in-love angels would be able to put the pitiful little mole to work without having to look at her or humor her.

\tThere was a small jolt of pain. Gretchen had pulled her finger out and used her little claw to scratch herself. Not quite enough to cut. Not yet. She squished her legs in firmly and let the toy flop out from her muzzle covered in thick ropes of spit.

\t“Sorry I’m not cute enough to cosplay.” she sobbed though her moans. She imagined people being angry. Having to suck dick after dick until her head got fuzzy. No, not suck. She wasn’t worth that much participation. She deserved to be stuck in a room full of horny, angry strangers. She deserved to have her face raped and her makeup ruined. Dirty, sweaty boys and girls who were worthless losers almost at her level. Perverts who were, like her, inundated with violent porn. Who would punch and kick at her between ramming cocks into her mouth and pissing on her face. Gretchen rubbed the dildo she’d choked on over her face and imagined it was some awful-smelling con-goer who hadn’t bathed the whole time he was there. Imagined him moaning the name of an actual cute waifu while violently fucking her face and hammering her throat.

\tThe dildo went in again. Just like that. She tried to pull another from the shelf while mumbling for the imaginary boy to stop. Eventually she was able to wriggle and wrangle a large feline shaped toy free. It was awkwardly pulled into place and with no real prep she began wriggling and jamming it against her  folds. No condom. No lube. Nobody should care about her safety or happiness. She wasn’t there to get off. Soon she had managed to get the toy somewhat stable on the bed and was bouncing herself on it. She let her brain dance though the massive folio of horrific porn and just tried to imagine her phantom attackers dishing out abuse while such things swam though her head. Of slave mothers ‘teaching’ how to be sluts by assisting with rape. Of worthless losers shaved and trimmed and branded to be kept in small cages as disposable public sex toys. Of cute girls tied to chairs and stimulated with vibes for hours while being forced to watch their friends getting raped until they got off on it.

\tThese thoughts and so many more all took over the initial fantasy in turn. She flicked unwillingly between them. Being in each spot, being each of those degrade non-persons she had burned into her mind over the years. The dildo came out of her mouth and she licked it frantically in the hopes that its imaginary owner would not tell her Master she was slacking off. After a few moments this was joined by a paw choking her and digger claws scratching at her tender folds to add pain with what little pleasure the self-rape of the sex toy gave her.

\tSoon she wasn’t even sure what dark fantasy was still in her head. There was added frustration as she found herself unable to even keep that straight. All she knew was the need to be treated like she deserved and that her owners were too good to even put into the positions of dominating her. She had to earn that, and she could never earn that.

\tGretchen moved the dildo that had been in her cunt back a bit and began to wriggle it against the tip of her ass. She then moved the otter cock dildo between her legs, now sitting up while she tried to force herself down on both shafts at once. It was agony with both going in. She wasn’t really prepared for that. She wasn’t some random girl from a drawing. Her anatomy was real, and it screamed at the unfamiliar feelings.

\tWorse still was the frustration. The inability to hold on to a single thought or feeling which was slowly consuming everything else. Violent porn ran rampant though her mind and none of the fantasies settled. Audio clips of a girl begging for a buyer so she wouldn’t be disposed of meshed with the girls of Persona 5 being brainwashed and turned into unwilling fuckpuppets. Then fighting game characters being beaten and claimed by the big bads of their games which shifted near instantly to Peach and Daisy being Bowser’s broken rape trophies while worshiping his monster cock while they were bred with heirs and toys for him.

Though it all she continued to hammer herself down, to choke herself, to maul at her breasts. Scratches and bruises formed bit by bit and her whole body ached while sweat began to build up under the fur.

\tEventually her body and will both gave out. Gretchen collapsed in a heap on her bed. The already disheveled mop of curly hair on her head was now a wiry nest. Tear stains and fluids covered her face and her skirt and especially her bed. The room felt colder than before. Probably because of how warm she’d gotten, but who the hell knew.

\tShe rolled herself back and pressed up against the window. The rock nerd in her worried it might break because of the sudden thermal shock. The self loathing loser in her wondered if it’d just break because of her fat ass. It didn’t. It was nice and cool. That along with the masturbation session had apparently seen fit to reward her with a nice little splash of dopamine. An undeserved reward for a small fraction of what she really deserved, and what she really longed for.

\tNo, that wasn’t it. She knew what else she longed for. She’d seen it yesterday. Between her Master and the annoying, insufferable girl wearing her Mistress’ face. Between Justin and Ozzy, too. And with her Mistress and Becky and Esme.

\tEventually she fumbled for her phone. A quick flick to unlock and she sifted though her various play lists. Eventually she found the right one, hammering the play button and letting the phone drop as ‘How soon is now’ began its warbling opening.

\tAnd she cried.

--------------------

\tMentors came with expectations. Hui had always known that. She’d been fortunate that many of her teachers had taken a liking to her over the years. Some people might call it a teachers pet. Gretchen had read enough Hentai to know none of her relationships with her educators reached into that realm.

\tAt least not yet.

\tThe problem was writing. Or rather, knowing what to write. She didn’t. Ideas sparked up but most of them were silly stupid fan fiction. It wasn’t that she was incapable of making an original character. It was that every time she did it felt like a character she already knew from some other work of media. Why bother world building something if people would just point out that it was ripping off something else.

\tPlus there were the self inserts. So many self inserts. Every one of her characters ended up feeling like someone she knew. Every protagonist was her or Justin or Gretchen. Occasionally she’d hit on something really out there up until she realized it just felt like someone Esme would come up with. Because why wouldn’t the theater kid consume every role that felt more like a role than someone she just knew?

\t“I think I need the setting first.” She sighed while staring at the computer screen, feeling it burn a hole back at her. Mz Peterson was known for her world building, so if Hui was going to follow in her footsteps then that was where she should focus anyways.

\tExcept she wasn’t thinking about settings right now. She was thinking about her loves. In particular, Gretchen.

\tOh, she loved her Master as much as ever, and in her mind the moratorium on titles was lifted even if he hadn’t agreed to it yet. But she had been rowing to love her cute, chubby little bundle of obedience more and more in the months since they had met. She was a bit jealous of Justin in that he could spend every day with her, just as she was jealous of her spending time with him. She’d thought about costumes to sew for her. Willow from the Owl house. Beth from Total Drama. There were so many adorable, sexy characters Hui could play with vicariously though her pet.

\tMore than that, though, she thought about her pet. ‘Her’ Gretchen. Gretchen did belong to her after all. She’d laid her claim on that sweet fairy of a girl the moment she caught her in that shed back at camp. She could imagine the lovely girl there now. Naked and kneeling in a proper slave position, one of the only worthwhile things to come from the nightmare that was Gor. Her soft pillow tits on display, ready for Hui to tease and caress them with her stocking feet while the red panda girl feigned her distraction with writing some story. The way those devoted garnet-brown eyes would gaze up at Hui with love and longing. The tender blush on her cheeks when Hui decided to say her name and reach out to caress behind one of her ears.

\tEven that would be enough, really. True she needed her pet to feel abused at times, just as she longed for her Master to abuse them both. But there was something else. Something so simple and pure about staring at her property. At her love. Even the simple admission that’s what she was. Her little love.

\tThe thought was so appealing. Of coming home, home to a house she shared with Gretchen and Justin. Of seeing that look of love and devotion as Gretchen came to serve Hui snacks on the couch. The mix of surprise, frustration and embarrassed bliss as Hui laid the adorable mole down on the couch and then lay on her like a body pillow. Hui dug her socked heels into the carpet and giggle-snorted as she dreamed of aggressively little-spooning to Gretchen’s bigger spoon. But to be wrapped in that warmth. To feel the other girls breathing, to feel their hearts beat. Knowing that even if Gretchen didn’t quite like the game Hui decided to play or care about the random trivia she was spouting, their love was enough that she could forgive Hui her hyper active ranting and raving.

\tShe’d rub that soft downy fur oh so tenderly and patiently go over why her choice of ship was the best ship. Then she’d turn around and without warning kiss the bored mole maid right on her lips. Not even a French kiss. At least not much. Something chaste enough to draw nervous giggles. Something gentle enough to simply tease the taste Hui had grown to love from that soft bundle of cute whom she had collared.

\tGretchen would ask her to stop, naturally. Soft little protests of pure embarrassment that Hui would heed only insomuch as it might help drive her pretty pet’s need for another kiss.

\tEventually, and perhaps mercifully, Hui imagined herself wrapped with Hui in a nice tight blanket burrito. Attempts to explain the continuity of ‘the world ends with you’ games cast off by the wayside and replaced with an assault of affirmations on the cuddly girl. How she was so cute, so smart, so sexy. How nice it was to gaze into her eyes. Reminders that she was Hui’s property, and that Hui was possessive. That she’d never let Gretchen go. Not ever. That she wanted to love and cherish and savor the cute mole for the rest of their lives just as much as she did her Master.

\tOh, Gretchen would protest, naturally. It’s what she did. But if the mole wasn’t going to love herself then Hui just had to love her enough for both of them. Then with Justin pitched in that just made it a net positive. That was just science!

\tThe warm thoughts soon drifted enough that Hui opened her eyes again and gazed at the blank word processor in front of her. As nice as the fantasies were, they wouldn’t be a reality until later. Not until she was with her loves once more.

\t“Ok then.” Hui muttered as she slapped her cheeks in a manner she’d seen in anime thousands of times before. “World building. New setting. Maybe something Cyberpunk. Let’s-a go.”
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