Crossing Boundaries

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.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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She smiled, sitting back as he gave her space, though Kael stood, staying there, his expression twisted, lips pressed together. She tried to fish through her memory for what that expression meant, but she had never honestly seen upset on a human face without anger, anger directed at her, swiftly following it. Unconsciously, she tensed, though her mind also knew that there was nothing she could do about it. With trained animals, not anthros, it was something called "learned helplessness" or "tonic immobility", depending on how it presented itself, though Siderva had never heard the term to understand it.

"That is quite fine," she said softly, slowly, not wanting to incite him. "I am sorry if I have angered you, Kael. But I do not think there is changing anything in my mind."

He stared at her, blinking slowly.

"You can't want to live like that..."

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "But what sense is there in hoping for something that's not going to come? I was wondering though..." She took a breath: that was harder to get through than she had expected. "You are a human... Can you give me that...what the human soldier gave to me? Can you make me feel that pleasure again?"

Her voice took a hard edge of desperation, though an old tinge of pride kept her hands in place, not clasped imploringly before her.

Kael swallowed hard and took a half-step back, worry tingling at the back of his neck, the tiny hairs there standing on end. Close by, Giselle paid attention to the shift in her master's mood.

"Master, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes..." He took her hand and, without thinking, brought it to his lips so that he could kiss the back of it. "You worry too much, Giselle... Everything is fine. With me, at least..."

If she hadn't been so fixated on getting the pleasure again, the mere prospect of it, Siderva would have paid more attention to that overly familial, loving action, Giselle's tail lifting a fraction and wagging lightly too. Yet all she could think about was getting that hit, what she had been addicted to, what had been out of reach for so long, but, finally, may be there.

And all he had to do was to give it to her.

Kael shook his head, fighting against the sense in himself that knew he could do it, yes, easily too. He could not break her mind as the soldier who had taken her prisoner had, not until his powers developed more, naturally, but he could give her a jolt of pleasure, for it would naturally follow the pathways in her mind that had already been laid down. All he had to do was supply it and the harm that had been done before would do the rest for him.

But did he even want to do that? Was it ethical?

He nodded slowly, having to give Siderva an answer, one way or another.

"Yes..." He said, dragging out the word so that it almost became a hiss in itself. "I can do that... But I don't think it's something that I should do. What if I'm just like the man that did it to you before? You don't deserve to be treated like that -- you never did. I can't willingly put you, put anyone, through that!"

Giselle brushed her tail comfortingly against his leg, though Kael was not to be soothed that easily, not as Siderva gave him a very strange look.

She didn't understand. Not him and not herself. He could do it, he could give her what she had been craving and wanting for so long...and he thought that there was something wrong with that? No one else had, not the soldier who had imprisoned her, not anyone who had seen her during that time. All they had seen was an object, an anthro slave, one that had been captured from the war. No more than that. In the end, the serpent had not thought that she was really anything more than that, not at all.

But him... He was different. She had not seen or known him for all that long indeed, but she could already tell that he was not like the man who had enslaved her. He had been interested in her only as a plaything, no more than that, something that could be investigated, abused, toyed with -- and then tossed away as soon as she served no further purpose to him. That had been different. If Kael had wanted that from her, he could surely have just taken her while Giselle had the knife to her throat, even used something to strip her of what magic she could have cunningly used, if she had at all been inclined to. The aggressive magic... Maybe that was something she could come back to one day, but after the horrors of the war, Siderva was not all that sure that it was something that benefitted her in that day and age, not even if she had indeed been a battle mage.

He should have been powerful, cold, calculating, even aloof. And yet he was none of that, innocence shining in his blue eyes, sharing a look with the dog. There was something more there too, something that the serpent could not quite put her finger on, though it was not as if it had been explained to her. Nor did she understand the bond between humans and dogs.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, eyes downcast, unable even to look at his face anymore. "I should leave... I never intended to put you in this position. I only needed to meet you, I needed to see...what you were like. But I did not know what else I came here for."

"Perhaps you were looking for answers," Giselle said, offering her a slightly friendlier smile, though the dog did not let her guard down in the slightest, her shoulders tense. "That is not a bad thing. Master encourages me to find the answers all the time."

Kael smiled.

"And you always get it right, Giselle. Because you're kind, smart and intelligent."

The dog tilted her head to the side, ears pricked.

"Aren't smart and intelligent the same thing, master?"

Kael laughed, the ease between them impossible to miss. Suddenly, Siderva pulled back, lips pressed together, even the flickering of her anxious tongue tucked within her mouth. It did not belong out there, much the same as she did not belong there, not there in that scene, not with the two of them. And yet she stayed, sat frozen in the armchair, her fingers unconsciously gripping the arms, eyes fixed on them, the master and the dog.

He could do it... He could give her pleasure. But would she have the stomach to go through it all again? Or was her life so worthless, by that point, that any tiny bit of pleasure was worth it, regardless of how much or how little she got from it?

She could imagine it right then, though it was an unsatisfying memory that made her whimper, tail pulled in tightly against her calf and ankle. Siderva remembered how the pleasure had warmed her through, exploding in her mind. It was not unlike an orgasm and yet something far more potent, for she could not imagine being addicted to orgasms, no: it was different, much stronger than that. It was nothing that she had ever been able to find something to replicate it, nothing that could give her a hit of what she had needed.

It had been like an explosion, but not an explosion. Prickling, fiery tingles of warmth lancing through her body, a spark that had been set off, her fingers curling, toes flexing, tail slinking out, so soft and easy, so loose and so relaxed. It had held her there, that flux of pleasure, like nothing else ever could, suspended in a wave that went on and on and on without cresting or peaking, only starting and stopping. Exactly when the human wanted her to feel it and no more and certainly no less than that.

She had to do it. She knew it in the core of her being, what little was left of her in there, the resolve tightening in her gut. If she could feel that pleasure again, to live every day, maybe more like herself... Yes, she would need to come back to him again and again, living as nothing more than a pleasure-addicted slave, perhaps even lower than the dog who served him, but that felt as if it had to have been a worthy sacrifice, if only it meant that she could have some kind of relief.

Maybe she would be able to use her magic fully and freely again. Maybe her mind would set her free, at least in some small way. She'd beg him for it, she was sure of it, and she was unsure whether the university would even allow her to stay there, yet she had to try, had to do something, had to press on into the devoutness of need, all for the hope of seeing an end.

Siderva shuddered. She hadn't had that hope in a long time, too long. Maybe it was wrong, but it was there, one way or another. Pride be damned, self-respect be damned.

And yet...

The serpent-woman sighed, unaware of Kael and Giselle exchanging a look that said more, between them, than any words could. She knew what the consequences of it would be. They'd never be able to hide her there -- it would all get out. Everyone would, in the end, know who she was, for there would be records of her in the war, even if they had not come to the forefront of any minds afterwards. No one had cared much for those that were captured, shellshocked by how their borders had changed, the atrocities that so many others had had to endure. Everyone had been so wrapped up in their own shame that they had not even thought about those that had been captured. That much, she could understand.

However, without their fear and shame to take up their attention, she would be in the spotlight, set before the fire on a festival's eve in a way that she had never wanted to be. She would be found out and it would all come out, every sordid, debasing detail of it, everything that she had been forced to do and the begging, whimpering slut of a snake that, yet again, she had been reduced to. Anthros would shun her and scorn her if she did beg for him to give her pleasure like that and Siderva, not even then, could not have trusted herself not to fall to her knees in public, wanting that hit, craving it more than anything else in the world. They'd cursed her, back then when other anthros had seen her as a slave of the man, in the lands that the humans had taken over, previous anthro lands, thinking that she had gone willingly over to their side. They blamed her for their losses and, in a big way, Siderva blamed herself too.

Sometimes, on her darkest of nights and her greyest of days, she had thought that she really would die if she didn't feel it again. Every time, she had come through it, woken up again, but it hadn't helped anything. It had not made her feel like she could conquer it, that she could be more than the slave that the human had reduced her to.

But if she could feel anything good and pleasant again, to end the daily suffering... Siderva tightened in on herself, pressing in, a hand over her heart.

No... No. She had to be strong. She had to find another way. She hadn't gotten any answers there, but she could not stay.

"I must leave," she said, rising, pretending to dust off her robes as if that would at all lighten the appearance of them at all, bedraggled, ripped, as useless as she was. "I should not have come here, much less in the middle of the night."

That was what she wanted to say, at least. But the words that left her mouth were quite different.

"Please make me feel the pleasure again," she whispered. "I will do anything, just once, please, I beg of you... I just want to feel something good, I want to feel like there could still be something good in this world, like there could still be something good in me!"

Once she'd started, she could not stop, breaking into a sob and throwing herself on the ground before him. It was not her, not the serpent as she had been, but a broken form of her -- who she really was after the prior abuse of the human, though she didn't think she would ever be her true self again. Experiences shaped anthros and they couldn't simply be taken back, not like that, not just like that.

"Please... Please... Please..."

She was barely aware of what she was even saying as she clawed at his legs, hanging off his nightgown, though it was not her. She didn't want to do it, didn't want to be like that, snot bubbling up and tears streaming down her face, panting, heaving... But she had to, she had to have it, her logical mind and her emotional one not in line with one another.

She screamed at herself, in the broken sanctity of her mind, begging herself to stop, to not debase herself, not to demean herself -- and yet what did she even think she could do? She was there, she was broken, a useless broken-down whore who was addicted. And there was no hope for her, nothing more than to finally give in to her addiction in one small way

Kael looked down at her, his hands in the air, not wanting to touch her, not knowing what to do. What, in the name of the kingdom, was he supposed to do in a situation like that, after all? He didn't know how to heal her, he couldn't fix her! But did she really think that he was just going to be like the man who had abused her and treated her as badly as all that? Did that mean that she wanted it too? It didn't bear thinking about, groaning, reeling, putting a hand to his forehead.

I'd much rather be asleep right now...

Yet he was still young and stubbornly stayed where he was. It was not his battle to fight -- and yet it felt like it was, simply because it had been another man who had enslaved and broken her. It felt as if it was down to him to do something, anything, when there was no one else in the world who could or would, no one that would even pay her any attention at all.

He sighed, shaking his head. Her begging, her words, an incoherent stream of pleas, her eyes closed. She couldn't even look up at him imploringly anymore, hacking out choked gasps and pleas through her sobs.

Kael's heart twisted. He couldn't leave her like that. He had to do something, anything, if only to tide her over until he could find a way to fix things for her, to make things right even when he was not all that sure that they could be made right for Siderva ever again.

He sighed, murmuring to her softly, trying to soothe her, but the serpent-woman was not to be consoled, not even as his fingers traced slowly over her head. He did not know exactly how she had been treated before, but he could take his best guess at it, fingers sliding gently over her hide, the snakeskin rough under his fingers. She had not been looking after herself all that well, that much was certain, but he hoped that there was something he could do to change that, even if he was unsure about changing anything.

Trying... That had to be it. Trying to do good, even when he didn't see the path there, had to lead him right, one way or another. Maybe that was what could make him just a little bit different from those that had done harm before him.

Maybe. He could only try.

He didn't think as his powers activated, slipping into her mind and giving her a dose of pleasure. He tried to make it as warm and as comforting as he could, but, in the end, it was not for him to decide. Her mind would make it what it needed to be, what the old pathways of pleasure and addiction dictated, but at least he could bring that good feeling back to her, if only for a short while. That would have to be enough, enough for him and enough for Siderva as the serpent-woman gasped and shuddered, shoulders rounding.

"Ohhh..."

It was not a sexual moan, but a moan of relief. Every fibre of her being, every cell in her body, felt as if they had been switched on and were alive again, even if she logically understood that, of course, she had been alive before. But being alive was so much more than eating and drinking and sleeping and merely getting through the day. It was feeling too and the sensation of the knots and chains around her heart coming loose had her heaving for blissful, full breaths that filled her lungs like they had not for so many years. She gasped, lips parted, dragging in all the air that she could, a dying woman in the middle of the dessert given her first sip of water.

And it just kept coming, everything that she had craved, shaking her head, dangling off his robes, whimpering. Unconsciously, the serpent leaned into the man's touch, wanting it all, wanting that good feeling, light and whole, gentle and warm through with simple pleasure.

Yet it was the lack of pain, the lack of the craving, even as she fed it, that came through most powerfully. Oh, she had not known that it could be like that and yet she wanted it even more for knowing it, leaning into him, her senses back, her magic waiting for her, the powers that veined the network of the anthro world. She could use it, she sensed, the block gone, but him too...

She sucked in a breath, eyes opening, the world around her suddenly so much more vibrant than before -- had it always been like that? She didn't know, did not care, not even as she stared adoringly up at the man who had given her so much in such a short time.

It was him though... His power... It was so much more than what she remembered, intoxicating as she drank in the pleasure, his eyes worried and fixed on her. He was concerned and she liked that, she liked that he was different. In a way, she even felt that he would have gone on and on, using his powers to give her pleasure, the good feeling she was so addicted to, until he passed out from sheer exhaustion.

With good intent behind it, the pleasure was enhanced, trembling through her, ripples flooding through, warming her body, her extremities, as if she was basking in the sun on a summer day. The serpent took a deep breath, losing herself, the heat of pleasure seeping down into her loins, because more than the simple "good" and more of what she was used to.

"Ohhh... Mmmm..."

She knew it was making him uncomfortable, even though she couldn't help herself. She was sure he would stop her if it was needed, but she was too greedy to take a step back, with all the power he had at his disposal. If he didn't want a moaning, shuddering serpent clutching at him, he could and would remove her, the heat in her loins curling and pulling. That was from a memory, but she, once more, hungered for the pureness of that ecstasy too, what she had sought for so long in the brothels and the back rooms of the inns, thinking that it was the closest thing to the pleasure she truly sought.

Kael swallowed hard, stroking her head softly, though the words that he had been murmuring had long ago died on his lips. He couldn't keep talking to her, not like that, for he could not help that having a trembling woman against his legs made him...feel things. It was wrong that he was turned on, though having Giselle there didn't help either, aroused more by the ladies on either side of him than how Siderva was acting. He didn't want her to be subservient to him, not like that, and he most certainly did not want her to see herself as a slave, to be lower than the lowest of the world, but there was a strong part of him that was drawn to her too.

But, no. He would be strong, he would hold fast. He would not take advantage of her and replicate her past.

Relaxing was his undoing, Siderva sliding her hand up his leg, feeling his calf, curious about the hair she found there. Her mind was not working properly with the overdose of pleasure, yet it kept coming, Kael supposedly waiting for her to tell him when to stop, when she had had enough. But what he didn't know was that she never would have had enough and the heat signature of an aroused male, her tongue flickering in and out to taste the air, was not something that Siderva would ever miss when it came to a human or an anthro.