DISCLAIMER:  This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any other person's, real or fictional, may or may not be a coincidence because I probably don't give a damn.  But it's original work, so don't steal it, or zerglings will carry you to the hive in your sleep and sacrifice you for the glory of the swarm. No zergbugs present in this story, but there's still a smattering of kinks (all appropriately tagged) so if you don't like it or you're not old enough, don't read it!  Everyone else, enjoy!

Mornings.

I hate mornings.  I could start this story off with something gushy about how wonderful it is to wake up snuggled into the nape of my mate's neck from behind, but while that would be very true, it's certainly not an accurate portrayal of how I see mornings.

I am *not* a morning person.  Never have been.  Probably never will be.  My mate, Karyn, over there—she's a morning person.  She'll wake up happy and chipper and singing her favorite songs—and it will lighten my mood slightly, sure.  But until I get some damn coffee in me, I'll mostly just 'stumble and grumble' as she calls it.

Once I got my coffee and had few sips, I was starting to perk up.  It was my day off, after all.  I heard the shower start running—Karyn, no doubt, getting ready for her day.  She has to run into work for a quick meeting, but then she's free too, as I recall.  I look down at my coffee with conflicted feelings; I wanted to go hop in the shower with her, but I didn't want this to get cold.  So I shrugged, chugged the cup down like cheap booze, and walked into the bathroom to hop in the shower (already naked, of course; no windows on the top floor to worry about.)

The moment I hopped in the shower, I got pounced.  This wasn't exactly outright rare, but it was certainly on the uncommon side for her to act so aggressive this early in the morning.  Before I knew what was happening, I was shoved against the wall of the shower and greeted by the sight of my mate kneeling before me, licking at my sheath to draw out my quickly-hardening shaft.  The moment it even started to approach full mast, she totally engulfed it, and it was all I could do to stay upright as the pleasure assaulted my senses.

I could have tried to stammer something else, but hey, why argue with a good thing?  A sexy shepherd (Australian Blue Merle), on her knees, with my cock buried in her muzzle while the sudsy shower water rolled down her fur—it was a beautiful sight.  I just about lost it the moment her piercing blue eyes slowly opened and met mine.

And then I heard her phone alarm go off, and she popped my cock out of her muzzle to talk.  “Shit, I'm going to be late!  Love you sweetie, bye!”  And with a kiss, she had already walked into the fur dryer and started a quick grooming routine.

I looked down at my throbbing shaft, hard and still begging for attention, and briefly considered finishing off.  But with how Karyn was acting this morning... I figured it might not be a terrible idea to save up.  So despite the protests coming from my second brain down below, I decided to just go about my shower as normal, combing some conditioner through my fur and setting about the slow, arduous process of grooming (Damn bat fur, it's a pain in the ass.)

Oh, I've spent so much time talking about her I didn't even introduce myself.  My name's Rai.  Well, En'Thraisu Kristayleisasen Ark'Naya, to be specific, but seeing as I wouldn't wish anyone to have to pronounce a tribal blossom bat name more than once, Rai will do just fine.  I've got short, messy strawberry-blonde hair, a fairly slim figure (almost too slim, a little bony really) and the usual bat accessories—gray fur, in my case, big ears (two studs and one ring in the left, one stud in the right), and semi-functional, folding wings attached to my arms.  And grooming wings that are attached to your arms is an arduous process at best, but after another fifteen minutes I had finally managed to comb through it all with a few creatively-shaped grooming tools.

Karyn had finally left the bathroom just a few minutes before I'd finished, no doubt straight out the door to her meeting.  The moment I stepped out of the fur dryer, though, I saw something that made my heart jump.  Simple and inconspicuous to an average onlooker, but my shaft plumped at the mere sight of it.  Two letters, written into the condensation on the mirror.

S.B.

Slave bat.  Whenever I heard or saw those ladders, our little 'game' was on.  She was my Mistress, and I was her slave, and immediately from that point forward I was to obey every order she had given.

The first few orders were unspoken, agreed upon several games ago.  Lock the collar on (she has the key), lock my chastity cage on (a process that, at this point, would involve an icepack), dress in the clothes laid out for me, and wait for further orders.  So after the arduous process of getting my erection to go down and getting the chastity belt on, I went to see what clothes she had picked out—and was surprised to see a fairly normal pair of shorts and a tank-top picked out.  Ratty old ones overdue to be thrown out, but normal nonetheless.  What was she up to this time?

I didn't have to wait long as her car pulled back into the driveway and my phone vibrated.  “Out.” was all the message said.  I immediately threw on sandals and did as I was told, walking nervously down the driveway to the passenger side door.  I pulled on the handle, only to find that the door was locked, and glanced at her confused—she just smiled sweetly as my phone vibrated a second time.

One word text message again.

“Strip.”

I looked at her nervously, my eyes wide, mouthing, “Are you crazy?”

She just smiled at me again, typing another quick message into her phone.

“One.”

I glanced back and forth nervously—no one was on the street at this exact moment, but four houses around us had a clear view.  I shuddered and meekly shook my head no again, only to be met with another message.

“Two.”

I shook my head again more adamantly, but she just calmly reached into her bag and pulled out two objects—a pair of bolt cutters...

And a key.

My key.  To the collar... and the chastity device.

And she grabbed her phone, typed a message, and held her finger right over the send button.  Panicking, I quickly grabbed my shirt and pulled it off, my pants following suit (no underwear to speak of.)  I nervously looked around, imagining that every neighbor could see me; naked, collared, standing outside my own car.  My phone vibrated again, and, with shaky hand, I reached down to find it.

“Bend over.  Toward the street.”

I protested once again, but she simply shrugged and relaxed into her seat.  I once more looked around nervously, but I knew that my chances of getting seen only went up as time passed, so, shakily, I followed her order.  I bent over slowly and presented my ass and my caged cock to the street for anyone to see, scared out of my mind.

Finally, the familiar 'click' of the door unlocking sounded and I sighed in relief, quickly grabbing my clothes and opening the door.

“Aah-ah-ah, nope.  Into the back.”  She said teasingly.  Not one to argue at this point, I scrambled into the back, where my clothes were immediately ripped from my hands and stored in the glove box.  She hnaded me a very thin blanket to cover myself, and spoke again.

“We're going for a ride.  Going to pick up a few friends of mine, mmmmkay?”  I gasped with arousal and fear at the nonchalant statement—we'd talked about this a few times, but never actually gone through with getting them involved.  My cock hardened, straining against the cage and making me whine slightly with need, but not another word was said.

Halfway down the highway, on a bridge, she opened her window and reached into the glove box.  I let out a small, pathetic cry as she flung my clothes out the window, landing in the lake below.  She said nothing, ignoring me when I whined out 'Mistress!” in protest.

It wasn't long before we arrived at her first friend's apartment.  Ariana, a busty, friendly bunny-morph, came to the car; Karyn got out to greet her and give her a hug.  But next, they came around to my door, as I whimpered in trepidation (knowing better than to pull away.)

In a flash, they had ripped the blanket off me and pulled my lower body halfway out of the car, my ass and caged cock exposed to the entire apartment complex.  Karyn pulled out a medium-sized buttplug, taking her time lubing it up in front of me while my cock strained at it's cage and my little noises of protest continued, Ariana's grip far too strong to wrestle out of in my submissive state.

Even scared though I was, I couldn't help but let out a moan when Karyn finally slid the plug into me.  She took the time to thrust it in and out, stretching me out as I struggled not to moan loud enough to draw attention.  Before long, though, my blanket was returned to me and our drive continued.

Our next stop I recognized as another of Karyn's friends houses, a nice, quiet horse-morph she had met at work.  It was hard to believe she would be interested in something like this; it's always the quiet ones, I suppose. Karyn, however, never ceases to surprise me, though, and out stepped not Shia, but her younger brother, Britton.  I started to hyperventilate—I had always been curious, but never explored around with another guy.  Britton was rather short and muscular, with dreadlocks, baggy clothes, and a goofy, disarming grin that made it near impossible to hate him.  He stepped into the car, smiling wordlessly at me as I breathed heavily, the pain of the cage no longer able to dissuade my cock from attemption to reach full-mast. 

As to what was going to happen next, I got my answer shortly when Karyn and Ariana both reached back and shoved my head down into his lap.  And from Karyn's lip, another one word command drew the loudest whimper of the night.

“Suck.”

He smiled and unzipped, a semi-erect horsecock quickly slapping me in the face.  I'm glad Britton was a small guy—for a horse, at least.  The shaft was still seven inches long and almost too thick to wrap a hand around, but I've seen some horses in porn with serious destroyer-class cocks that I would never be able to handle.

Gingerly, I gave his shafts a few licks, finding the taste not to be all that unpleasant.  Not wanting to displease my mistresses (and master, I suppose), I wrapped my lips gingerly around the tip, sucking gently on the first few inches, nursing on his shaft.  It wasn't long before he added another layer to my fear and arousal, pulling the blanket off me and handing it to the front of the car.  I was naked, caged,  sucking a cock, and exposed for any passing driver to see.  As we stopped at a traffic light, I looked up to see another nearby car's occupants—a tall, male wolf and a fox-mix in the passenger seat—staring at me with shock, but Britton's hand gently came down to encourage me to continue despite the giggles coming from my mate and her friend.

He slowly started forcing me further and further down, until I was fighting my gag reflex as his shaft pressed against my throat.  He left up and pressed down again, making it clear what he wanted.  Finally getting the idea—and getting a little into it myself—I started blowing him in earnest, bobbing my head on the first five inches of his shaft while stroking the rest.

It wasn't long until my efforts were rewarded, as Britton grabbed me by the hair and aimed his cock at my face.  Rope after rope of warm horsecum hosed me down, covering my face and my hair until I looked like a cheap whore. 

I stayed there, breathing heavily as what I had just done sinked in, until I heard the car doors opened.  We were back home, and Karyn was tugging me out of the car, leaving the blanket there and leading me, still nude and covered in cum, inside the house.

It seemed like the car was enough foreplay at that point, though.  I was immediately handcuffed and thrown onto the bed, and in a flash, Ariana's slit came into my field of view, her hand roughly pulling me into it.  I licked it as fast as I could, the busty Bunny grinding her ass into my face, even stopping from time to time to force my head down to lick at her tailhole and fingering herself with a moan.  Karyn was behind me all the while, removing the plug and and generously applying lube to my tailhole before doing the same to Britton's shaft, stroking it back to full mast.  It may have been obvious, but I couldn't help but gasp into the pussy currently smothering me when I felt Britton's shaft press against my tailhole.  It was easily twice as large as any strap-on Karyn had ever used on me... But she didn't seem dissuaded as she pushed on his hips, sinking his shaft to the hilt into me in one long, slow thrust.

And then, without a break, he began to thrust.  Slow and rhythmic, but hard.  And at this point, I was beyond trying to hold in my moans.  My cock was straining at it's cage like it never has before, my ass on fire with pain and pleasure, and a horny bunny was suffocating me into her asscheeks at this point while she frigged her pussy to a moaning, screaming, squirting orgasm, coating my hair and back in her fluids.  It barely even registered to my when Ariana's groin was replaced with my mate's—I was too far gone at that point, high-pitched moans that would put any girl to shame being ripped from my throat by the massive shaft that was likewise ripping me open, turning me into a wanton little bat-slut.

Faster and faster, harder and harder; Britton fucked me for what felt like hours, aided (I suppose) by his orgasm earlier.  Karyn had taken to fingering herself at the sight; my balls were churning at this point, my cock begging for release even as a familiar pressure built up.  I couldn't believe it when my balls started to tighten and the pleasure started to build—Karyn had tried on many an occasion, but I never thought I was quite slutty enough.  Britton seemed determined to prove me wrong though, his cock hammering into my prostate with every thrust.  And with a weak, girly, defeated moan, my cock twitched and jumped in it's cage, filling it with potent bat-seed as I came without a single touch to my cock.  My tailhole spasmed and clenched, drawing a groan from Britton as he filled me with an impressively potent second load of cum, my brain barely managing to register a second splash of feminine fluids drenching my face as Karyn peaked from the sheer sight of it all.
 
I think I may have blacked out for a minute—or at the very least, I spaced out, the silence in the room being broken only by heavy, lusty breathing.  Finally, Britton pulled, out, a weak “thank you, Mistress” escaping my lips as horsecum dripped out of my tailhole and down my balls.  It was then that I heard Ariana's voice as she re-entered the room.

“Oh we're not down with you yet.”

Karyn walked over to her, and somehow I managed to find the effort to lift my head and turn.  And there to greet me was the sight of my Mistress and her friend stepping into large, matching, black strap-ons... And grinning wildly.

Fin