The Striped Filly Ch 01

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

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The Striped Filly

Flying Changes

Chapter One

Chris swivelled back and forth in his chair, surveying the studio soundboard, a microphone extending from the set up in front of him. He fiddled with a large, clunky set of headphones clamped around his ears, brown hair poking around the slick curve of plastic arcing over the top of his head, and tried to fuss the strands back into place. They stuck up resolutely in all directions, defying control. He studiously avoided looking into the warped mirror set into the wall. His reflection wasn't a pretty one after a bad night of sleep, deep shadows pulling below his eyes.

With a sigh that carried the weight of more burdens than a man of his years should have carried, he tapped at the board, head bobbing to a beat pulsing through the headphones - whatever pop song he'd put on to play last. He didn't keep track of them all that well, bar to announce the names: he preferred something a little more soothing, classical or new age. He swept his gaze around the plain studio once again, eyes darting from one piece of equipment to the next. But he'd seen it all before and there was nothing special about it. The soundproof room worked well enough, but, not being one of the more popular stations, was nothing more than the bare basics.

"Christian?"

He bolted upright, lunging for his headphones with as much urgency as if he had been caught sleeping on the job. A middle-aged woman with oval glasses balanced on the end of her nose peered in, a clipboard clutched possessively to her chest. She cleared her throat, garishly painted lips pursed. Christian suppressed a smile at the smear of lipstick on her wonky front teeth, leaning forward with what he hoped was convincing enough feigned interest.

"Hey, Jodie," he winced, tongue clumsy between his teeth. "What's up?"

"Your guest is here."

She inclined her head back outside, clicking her tongue disapprovingly against the roof of her mouth. His brow furrowed but Jodie so often screwed up her face like there was a foul smell under her nose that it was difficult to take her moods personally.

But he still had a job to do. His stomach flipped over.

"Ah...right." He swallowed, trying a shaky smile. "We'll be ready to go live in five, but please - send her in."

His heart pounded and he took a deep breath as Jodie left the room, door bumping lightly against the frame as her heels clacked down the narrow corridor.

It's just an interview, he told himself, though his own mental voice proved itself to be far from convincing. You've sat in on hundreds of these. Thousands. Too many. Too damn many. You got this, come on. You got this. Have some faith.

In all honesty, he had not expected his boss to call him that morning, whispering down the phone line in a rasp of a voice that he wouldn't be in that day and that he would have to take over the show solo. There was no one else available at such short notice and, after all, he knew where everything was, even if he'd never done it before. Christian barely had time to scribble down what little notes his manager was willing to impart with a rasping throat before the phone line cut out and he was on his own.

Straightening the collar of his white shirt - he had not been able to get the crease out of it much earlier that morning - he sat back in his chair and placed the tips of his fingers together, the very picture of a composed radio show presenter. Or at least he hoped so. Sweat dampened his forehead and he swiped the back of his hand across it, smearing the glistening droplets over his skin.

The door shuddered and a black and white head pushed its way into the room, closely followed by a sleek neck, back and ropey tail. Christian's jaw dropped as a zebra eased itself into the room, stepping around neatly so that its hindquarters did not disturb any of the equipment. Jodie poked her head into the room, shot him a look and ducked out again so swiftly that he wondered if she'd been there at all. Her initial look of derision, however, was now well explained.

He stared at the zebra, taking in its large ears and curious look, head moving gently from side to side as if it was trying to take in the studio from all possible angles. It was no secret that some animals in the world - whole species', in fact - possessed intelligence either equal or near that of a human being, but he had never expected to see one of them stroll into his studio as if it belonged there. Were zebras intelligent? Panic fluttered in the pit of Christian's stomach. What if someone had sent a rogue zebra into his studio as some kind of prank? He resisted the urge to lift his hands and shoo it away, pressing his tongue into his cheek until it ached.

Silence could not stretch between them forever. Coughing into his hand, Christian tried to clear a throat thick with words that would not pass his lips.

"Uh...hello?"

He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, cursing his own ineptitude. Why had he hesitated? Was that the best greeting he could come up with? He was a radio presenter - or at least an aspiring one - for Pete's sake! The zebra blinked its long eyelashes and raised its head to look him in the eye.

"Hello," it said in reply, voice echoing with a soft, feminine lilt. "I believe that is the correct greeting over this way. Hello."

Christian chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down closer to his scalp. This was happening, really happening. He stopped himself from shaking his head just in time, bemused by the surreal nature of it all. He was having a conversation...with a zebra. And it wasn't a dream!

"Anything goes really here. Hi, hello, greetings, salutations..."

He trailed off, words dying on his lips. The zebra shook her head and snorted, expelling hot air from her nostrils with enough force that he felt her breath ruffle his clothes. Christian shivered.

"I think you're expecting me. My name is Tapiwa. Or Anna, as I tend to go by these days."

Her lips quirked in a tiny, zebra smile and she tilted her head to the side, ears flicking to catch the buzz of equipment. Tinny music emanated from Christian's headphones, which had fallen loose around his neck.

"Anna! Yes, yes - of course!"

He lunged for the spare stool, shoving it back into the wall with as much urgency as he could muster. There was little enough space as it stood and his cheeks burned to think how cramped the four-legged zebra would be in the compact studio.

"I'm so sorry, Steve didn't explain that you were...well...you were..."

He waved his hand, letting it drift aimlessly to his side. Anna nodded and flicked her tail, long, silken strands of hair whisking lightly through the air.

"Yes, I did speak with him. Is he not here today?"

Anna peered around Christian as if his boss may have been hiding in a dark corner. Chris' heart jumped.

"No, I'm afraid he's not well. You're stuck with me today!"

He laughed loudly, too loudly, and Anna studied him, her gaze searching him up and down.

"I am not to leave?"

"No!" Christian shook his head, palms sweating. "That's not what I meant at all. Just that you'll have to deal with me instead of my manager. That is Steve. I mean Steve."

They stared at one another, silence yawning as one track slipped into the next. Christian licked his lips, fingers curled around his opposite bicep, squeezing until fingertips dimpled into flesh.

"Anyway, we should begin the interview. This track will be over in a moment and we can go on air. I think I've got everything I need here..."

He shuffled the paperwork on the corner of the desk, scanning through what questions his manager had left for him. His heart sank: they were woefully thin on the ground. He popped his headphones back over his ears and fiddled with a second pair, easing them gently over Anna's head for her so that one ear piece lay over one ear, even if he couldn't get the second in place. He groaned inwardly. She looked silly. What if she thought he was doing it on purpose? The look would have to do, however.

Anna blinked and rolled her head, settling their weight more comfortably over her half-crushed right ear. Christian gestured and smiled, encouraging her up to the microphone as he perched on the edge of his chair. It would be sensitive enough for both of them to speak into - one blessing, at least.

The music petered out on a final note and Christian took a deep breath, taking them live.

"And that was Lost Feeling, a track courtesy of Linkin Bark. Now, in the studio here today, you are in for a very special treat."

Christian cringed, hating the sound of his own voice as it fed back to him through the headphones. Everything was cornier when recorded - it was always the way.

"Here we have the charming...mare," he glanced at his papers, "Tapiwa - or Anna, as she prefers - a zebra fresh from the sweeping plains of the Serengeti, so we may learn a little more about how our four-legged comrades fare in the world."

"Actually, I'm from Kenya. Northern Kenya, to be precise," Anna interjected, ears twitching. "Sadly, our range is more reduced than it used to be in days gone by."

Christian laughed politely, cheeks burning.

"Oh, of course, please forgive my ignorance." He paused, avoiding eye contact. "But we are here to learn and learn we shall!"

He crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward earnestly.

"So, Anna, tell me about your life."

The zebra shuffled closer to the microphone, upper lip quivering as she briefly mulled over the question.

"It's very different to being in London," she began, scraping a hoof lightly across the floor. "We don't live like our kind used to - out in the open where we would be easy prey. Through ways of trade, we have had huts built that may shield us from the elements, although we still spend a larger portion of the day grazing. It's how our digestive tracts are designed, or so I am told."

"How large are the huts?" He inched his chair closer despite himself, curiosity roused. "What sort of facilities do they contain? Do you spend long in them or prefer to stay outside?"

"They are similar to your hotel rooms here. We require fewer facilities but the implementation of sanitary latrines has done much for our community. The privacy is also much appreciated."

Anna bobbed her muzzle as she talked, shifting her weight from hoof to hoof as if to keep any one leg from becoming too tired.

"We do not sleep for any great length of time on our sides or bellies, but it is pleasant to have a sleeping mat for when my legs are tired. There's only so much walking and standing you can do, going about trade work and, of course, feeding. I persuaded my mother to use some of our coin for a simple hammock, though it is so difficult to scramble into! She laughs every time!"

Anna laughed, throwing her head back as a donkey-like bray erupted from her dark lips. Christian shot back, heart pounding, but she eased closer to the microphone, lipping at it curiously as she talked.

"And how do you deal with money and finances?" He asked, giving his lips something to do while his heart returned to a normal pace.

"Much the same as you do," she continued, head held confidently high. "Banks are worldwide and it is easy enough to carry cards or coin when needed. We did have to purchase something like 'saddle bags' to carry them." Her muzzle wrinkled. "I think they were used on your domesticated equines, the ones who helped you in your lands. I don't care for the term all that much."

"Very interesting..." Christian glanced at his questions and highlighted one with a yellow marker. "And how long have you lived in...Kenya, was it?"

He smiled as he corrected his earlier mistake, shrugging some of the tension from his shoulders. Conducting an interview wasn't so bad after all! Once he'd gotten over the initial shock of finding a zebra in his studio, he'd found his stride and his flow, hadn't he? His voice wasn't even all that grating once he got used to it. Of course, regardless of his shock, he'd known all about the intelligent animals living in the world, yet most kept their distance from humans. His lips twisted in the tiniest of grimaces. Probably for excellent reason too.

The zebra bubbled to life as she talked, words and sentences blending seamlessly together until it took only the smallest of prompts from Christian to steer her in what he hoped was the best direction. He leaned further and further away from the microphone, elbows on his thighs, as he nodded and made general noises of interest - genuine interest! - in response. Anna - he learned that she preferred that to Tapiwa due to the Anglicisation of many names and felt it made her more accessible - rocked her head and made a noise that was similar to a nicker but not quite. He shook his head, spellbound by her presence alone.

The mare shook herself, a white hair flying from her mane, and shifted, head bobbing as wires on the floor caught between her hooves. Brow furrowing, Christian moved as if to rearrange it for her, but she stayed him with a wink and, slowly but with staunch determination in every step, stepped sideways so that she stood at an angle to the desk, clear of the wires. It wouldn't have been such a bad position, putting her in excellent range of the microphone, if not for the fact that her unavoidable sex, cradled beneath the base of her tail, winked as if teasingly begging for Christian's attention.

The young man cleared his throat and looked from left to right, sure, once again, that someone had to be playing a terrible practical joke, yet there was no one else in the small studio. He shifted and fiddled with his papers but couldn't prevent his eyes from dropping to her muscled rear and the twitching teardrop sex that pulsed to reveal a softer, pinker interior. He stared, transfixed, as her long tail swished, the longer hairs falling in a waterfall down over her hocks.

But Anna was still talking and he wrenched his gaze away, rubbing the back of his hand across his face as if he could wipe the blush from his cheeks. Unconsciously burbling on about her homeland and what plants she preferred to graze on, Anna flicked her tail higher, rump muscles bunching as she adjusted her weight, the tip of one hoof resting on the floor. Christian gnawed his lip, sweat running down behind his ear.

Concentrate! He snapped at himself mentally. Just what do you think you're doing? She's a guest! In your studio! You can't be looking at her like that!

And a zebra, a smaller, obstinate part of his mind added, but he pushed it away, ignoring it for the time being. That could be worried about at a later date. A much later date.

"Life in Kenya is very different - would you call it a 'far cry'? - to walking the streets here."

She chuckled, stepping over the stray foot of an old desk with dainty hooves as she moved once again, clearly disliking staying still in one place.

"People like you are more used to my kind over there in the general business of conducting trade and so on. Humans stare so much, they really do not know what to do around someone like me. It's strange to be looked at so...so...strangely."

She paused, lips rubbing against one another as she collected her thoughts and Christian tilted his chin higher. His eyes blurred with moisture, the strain it took to keep his head elevated in a single position taking more of a toll on him than he ever could have expected. The mare stretched out her neck, marehood winking as if in perfect time with her movements.

"From what I've seen, many non-human intelligent species live out in what wilderness remains or have moved to make room for yourselves, human beings. It's understandable really - I'm not sure I would fare my whole life in a city, although it is pleasant enough to visit. It's a concrete forest that I would never truly be able to settle in, although I adore my travels."

Gulping, Christian sat up straight and averted his eyes, a flush rising to his cheeks. The zebra tilted her head, winked and turned herself side-on to the microphone, making the barest pretence of speaking into the black box. Her taut rump could not be missed and, as she giggled and flicked her tail, still talking as if what she was doing was the most natural thing in the world, he caught a glimpse of a pair of dark udders beneath her belly, complete with perfect, smoothly shaped teats.

Peering back around the curve of her neck, Anna chuckled and parted her lips in a smile, tail flicked up and pushed off to the side. Her sex tugged up, winking - he thought he had the term correct - as if she was begging a stallion to mount her right there and then. No, begging was not the right word. Christian breathed shallowly, the notion of tearing his gaze away from her pulsing, drooling marehood beyond his comprehension. It was as if she was demanding his attention, what with presenting herself like that. He refused to consider that thought further, shutting it down behind a steel wall.

But other things demanded his attention too. Dead air buzzed on the radio, stretching out as Anna flashed him a smile, lips soft and twitching.

"Ah..." Christian tugged at the collar of his shirt, crossing and uncrossing his legs as a tightness he didn't want to acknowledge swelled. "And what..."

He stumbled over his words, shuffling papers as if some stroke of brilliance would leap out at him. Anna brayed a light laugh, upper lip pulling back from her teeth. It would have been the cutest smile if she had not been pushing her tail back almost into his lap. She backed up, hindquarters brushing his knees and he leaned back and back into his chair until he had nowhere left to go, squeezed into the seat with wide eyes.

He cleared his throat and ran his fingers over the back of his neck.

"Ah...and Anna..."

Why did he suddenly find words so hard to come by? Why couldn't he just be professional about it? His eyes latched on to the last question on the page and he blurted it out, word for word, without thinking.

"How do you find a lover in your community, Anna?"

He could have slapped himself and the zebra shuddered and closed her eyes, sides vibrating. Christian gaped. Was she trying...not to laugh?

"Grevy's zebras - I do so believe that that was the gentleman that discovered my ancestors - are quite solitary," she explained, wriggling her hindquarters as her sex pulsed and winked, twitching up as if to entice him sweetly in. "The stallions of our kind stake out a territory and wait for a mare or a filly to happen by. They will tolerate bachelor herds and other males, but look out as soon as a mare comes into range!"

She chuckled and cast him a look that he would have sworn was sultry, tail flicking back and forth and catching his eye. It drew his gaze irrevocably down to her winking sex, a glistening, tantalising sheen of sexual fluids gleaming over her slit. He licked his lips, strapping down the urge to lean forward and put his face in the treat so openly presented to him.

"Well, Anna," Christian said quickly, relief rushing over him like a dousing bucket of ice water. "I'm afraid that's all we have time for today. How interesting to learn about how zebras live!" He added with true sincerity. "I'm sure there are many listeners out there today who have been afforded a very different perspective due to your words."

"Oh, believe me, Christian." Anna tossed her head, mane rippling down the back of her neck. "The pleasure is all mine. I'm sure there is at least one who sees things a little differently after our conversation."