This erotic story features anthropomorphic (furry) characters/costumes, which are humanoid beings with animal characteristics.
"TrueSuits: Halloween Costumery 2"
SHORT STORY
Author's Note:
sequel to "TrueSuits: Halloween Costumery" (duh!).
Sunlight was the last thing Carter wanted to see. It revealed his unforeseen transgression. Though it glowed with the warmth of a new day it was nothing but cold to him. A chilling feeling emerged from deep within and coursed to every part of him. His heart, and head, were muddled as he tried to make sense of the scene in front of him...
"Mmm-hmmm. Go back to sleep Alan."
Fuuuuck!!!
His mother, Gail, lay opposite him in her bed. Her bare back exposed, the dark complexion of her skin peeking out from between the open folds of the furry TrueSuit. And Carter, his own body still clad in orange-red fur...
Her words fell upon deaf ears. Not wanting to further rouse her, Carter carefully extricated himself from the bedclothes -- letting them slip and slide away as he slowly moved to the edge. His throat was dry. A pounding headache threatened to distract him from his stealthy getaway. The dreadful prospect of being discovered, half-naked and wearing a bizarre costume, hung over him. He felt its presence every agonising second he took to escape.
Then, once he had turned and shifted around -- his pawed feet settling on the bedroom floor, clawed toes flexing with uncanny realism, his body stiff lest his artificial tail sweep across his mother -- he made it!
Yes! Fuck yes!
His cries of victory were kept hidden, echoing only in his mind. He grabbed the headpiece, avoiding loud noises, and stepped from the bed. The smug face of Nick Wilde, the anthropomorphic fox from Zootopia, stared back at him. Dumb. Empty. A lifeless mask. Compared to the pained scowl on Carter's face it looked cheap and tacky. Something was missing, some spark of life.
Yeah, duh, mine...
I don't know how this thing works, but everything felt so...real.
...
I can't...
Sparing his sanity from the awful half-dreamt scenes that polluted his mind, Carter sneaked out of the bedroom. His mom had drifted back to restful sleep. He paused and quickly returned to gently lay the sheets over her, making it look like she'd been the only one there all night. A weak attempt, but maybe it would be enough.
Now that he'd disguised his participation, Carter slowly drew shut the bedroom door. The grey-furred rabbit worn by Gail was now mostly hidden beneath the bedclothes. Her long, bouncy foot-paws poked out from the end of the bed, idly rubbing against each other by some subconscious habit. A small round bump in the sheets marked the location of her tail. And just like Carter -- the vacant animatronic helmet sat on a nearby table, having been removed sometime in the night.
The door closed. He breathed a sigh of relief.
He knew exactly what had happened. What they'd done. The suits...the suits had done something to them. Made them think they weren't...
"Agh!"
Carter's exclamation failed to wake his mother, and the young man chided himself for his carelessness.
After all that work getting out of the room,
he thought,
to ruin it by making a stupid fucking sound!
Knowing his luck wouldn't last, he walked to his own room, and set the Nick Wilde head down on a shelf. Then he shut the door, twirling the latch around on the lock, securing his space.
The TrueSuit hung loose over his shoulders, the back having become undone once he'd removed his headpiece -- whenever that'd been. However, it clung well enough around his waist and legs, and the sensation of being one with the second, furrier skin did not abate even as he started to peel it off. Like little jolts of electricity he flinched as it pulled away. His chest and arms freed, he hurriedly finished disrobing -- his waist, gonads, legs, and feet sensing a minute jolt as he 'disconnected' himself from the suit's latent interface.
Utterly naked, Carter rustled through his wardrobe for something to wear that wasn't a freaky sex costume. Once he had some 'ordinary' clothes on, he could begin to calm down and start collecting his thoughts:
So...dad clearly wanted to bang mom wearing these. Ew!
And now I've gone and taken his place -- fuck fuck fuck! I...I had sex with her...
Mom.
"You need to calm down," he told himself, steadying his breathing. "You did something wrong, but there were extenuating circumstances. It wasn't completely your fault."
Yeah, and who's gonna believe that?
"No-one," he said aloud.
No-one, because no-one has to know it was me.
Mom doesn't. She thought I was dad.
Maybe she won't even remember...maybe she'll think it's a dream.
"She better," he sighed while pacing around the room.
Then again -- was what he did so bad? Part of him liked it. Liked thinking about it even now. And both of them didn't know this could happen. Whatever brainwashing the TrueSuit had done to him it seemed like it stuck around. Massaging his ego. Keeping him from recoiling too much. A lingering...
attraction
sprang to the fore of his thoughts.
Carter's panic replaced itself with a twisted pride.
Yeah, I banged my hot mom!
The guilt gave way to boasting. Perhaps a coping mechanism. Perhaps he really felt that way. Or, just as he'd sensed a second ago, the suit had left some kind of imprint.
Either way, his head was mixed-up. Muddled.
Dressed for outdoor exercise, as if his subconscious was telling him to leave the house, Carter decided to go for a lengthy jog. It would be good to clear his head. Work through all these feelings.
He'd woken up with scattered memories -- what if Gail did?
Another good reason to go outside and lay low!
* * *
Fortunately, Carter was the only one to remember what really happened last night. He'd learn that fact in time, but whilst he exercised with that possibility gnawing at his pained mental state, Gail slumbered peacefully. She'd worn the Judy Hopps suit intact for much longer; no matter when she had removed the headpiece, enough had been done by the mind/machine role-play system to subtly alter the memories of her copulation with her 'husband'. She'd had the most wonderful dream -- Alan had come home early and taken her by surprise, using the very costumes he'd bought especially for such an occasion.
Those dreams and memories, just like the very real feelings she'd experienced unknowingly fucking her son, blended into the background; a fuzzy mess of echoed pleasures. The TrueSuit had left its mark on her as well.
If it had been up to the suits alone, both her and Carter would remain in blissful ignorance of their incestuous night -- but you could never truly account for the human element. A flash of recollection burned through her stupor, and she woke suddenly, catapulting upright.
"Alan?"
She looked to the other side of the bed.
Empty.
She exhaled and smiled as the warmth of the sun drenched her fatigued features. In her tired state, she failed to notice any marks or stains -- any evidence of passionate emissions from last night. No, Gail didn't pick up on any signs, and it seemed Carter's hasty attempt to make his side of the bed had worked.
What a pleasant dream,
she thought. Blurred images of red fur, grunting, thrusting...teasing her about what was to come when Alan got home...
"Mmmm," she groaned, standing up. The TrueSuit flopped forward, the open back giving way to her naked form, tickled by the spotty rays of light and heat. She felt good. Satisfied. Like she hadn't been in a long time. Muscles and joints without stiffness.
Walking towards the mirror, Gail saw reflected back at her a healthy smile. No paleness or bags under the eyes. She didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it, but the TrueSuit's technology must have really helped her get some shut-eye. It still clung to half of her body, and she
still
felt everything it felt like it was her own flesh. Running a hand through the fur on her big bunny thigh, she let the realistic sensations spread. An ache formed on her hip, which corrected itself once she stopped twisting around to feel her furry self up. Especially her ass -- those soft cheeks and that little tail!
"It's a good thing Carter and I went to bed after our trick-or-treating," she said to herself, as if she truly believed her version of events, "or we'd have woken up too late to see this wonderful morning!" She looked over at the windows, and the vista beyond.
Turning around, she spotted a wine stain on the rumpled sheets. "Oh no," Gail cooed as she lifted the bed cover and studied the stain. A giddy notion formed in her mind:
seems Judy got a little tipsy last night.
When next she moved, a sharp pain struck her -- a powerful sensation, her skull pounding.
"Ooh! Judy drank more than I thought!"
This sudden spike of anguish vanished as soon as she'd spoken, leaving a dull throb in its wake, making it hard to concentrate. Gail groaned and massaged her temples. She had a vague memory of going outside then nothing. The suit had take over and guided her through the rest of the evening before settling her in to a good night's sleep.
Must've had a nightcap,
she thought.
Or rather, Judy must've.
She chuckled at the notion, picturing herself as not herself -- in a sort of strange third-person perspective -- sipping from a glass of wine while dressed in the TrueSuit.
Gail left her bedroom and wanderer about the house. Passing the half-open door of Carter's room, she spotted the Nick Wilde costume draped over the headrest of her son's bed. There was no sign of him anywhere in the house so she assumed he had other plans.
She entered her son's bedroom and examined the empty TrueSuit, feeling the softness of its fur and comparing it to hers. Warm thoughts swam in her back of her mind; remnants of the role-play programming, as fuzzy as the synth-flesh she fondled idly.
How courteous of Nick to escort Judy home without taking advantage of the poor bunny in her vulnerable state,
she mused -- momentarily forgetting who played each part. Her words lacked impact -- lacked connection to reality, as if she were remembering a story and admiring the character of the male lead. Then, as if ignoring the incongruity, she remarked to herself:
"I've raised quite the gentleman."
Now thinking she had a handle of the evening's events, and that Nick (a.k.a. Carter) had been a perfect gentleman for Judy, she dressed herself and packed up the TrueSuit. She had enjoyed her time pretending to be the character, but now her motherly instincts kicked in, and she resolved to put away the risqué items and wear something respectable -- lest her son return and witness her shame.
