Story – The Stray – Part 3
“Stray” – Part III
-by FurCreamer
IV. Staging Area
The limousine pulled off the state highway and onto a ordinary gravel driveway shrouded by evergreen shrubbery. The suspension bounced over a few small ruts. The driveway descended from the road into a small, wooded dell. The shallow valley followed the highway for a few miles to the north and south. The tall pines within created an evergreen shroud around the tiny creek at the bottom. Perched in a cleared area, a modest lodge house parted the snow-topped forest.
Tiffany pulled the door open before the limo came to a complete stop and swung her booted feet out. The rush of clear air was somewhat a relief. Having been cooped up in the back with her sperm drying, quite literally, everywhere, the smell had been overpowering. Ami also exited, though she had shown no signs of being bothered by it. They opened the rear windows for a time, though that nearly resulted a traffic accident. A woman in a small sedan pulled alongside and happened to glance inside. Tiffany did relish the confused, then disgusted look on her face.
Ami hadn’t helped matters by openly slurping down another palm full of the jelly-thick cocksnot right in the open. Tiffany wasn’t surprised at her appetite, Handmaidens had to develop a taste for it in their line of “work”. Doing it in such an exhibitionist manner seemed counter to a few of the assumptions Tiffany had made.
Once the limousine was stopped the mink-clad valet also exited. She showed no outward signs of interest in either Tiffany or Ami. Though Tiffany noticed the appreciable bulge in the crotch of her black mink chauffeur’s outfit.
“I assume you have a change of clothes…” Tiffany said, taking in the forested surroundings. The white-board 2-story had a small front yard now under at least a foot of snow, judging by the short, freshly scraped sidewalk. The rear yard pushed back about 20 yards to the forest. It was a then a short, heavily forested descent to the creek bed. A separate car garage abutted the north side of the house, and smoke rose from a red brick chimney.
“Yes, everything is inside.”
Ami lead the way up the shoveled walk and unlocked the door. The chauffeur removed 2 large, metallic cases from the limousine’s trunk and followed. The interior was decorated like any room in the ranch. Every surface and wall dripped with thick, fluffy fur. Most of it was fox; some lynx and a few other long haired furs were used as accents and bases in some cases. The smell inside mirrored that of a fur salon, an odor of very fresh fur in a cool environment.
Tiffany took a few steps and shrugged off her ruined pink fox coat. The giant coat, many pounds heavier with the soaked-in cum, fell to the sheared mink carpet with a loud, wet slap. Her hair was still soggy and stains dotted her boots.
“There is shower upstairs in the master bedroom. You will find clothing there as well. They were selected according what information we have on your tastes-”
“-Or lack thereof…”
Ami continued as if she wasn’t interrupted, “-I will prepare a briefing for you on the stray and Jacqueline will help prepare the gear I designed for you.”
“Ah, yes, the Countess’s ‘personal designer’,” Tiffany recited from Ami’s initial introduction. “Wasn’t really sure what that meant.”
“Yet you enjoyed my muff just the same.”
Tiffany smirked, “So many double entanderes, so little time…”
Ami’s expression soured. “I’m sure the idea of a fox muff lined with chinchilla is older than even the imaginations of our kind. Yet I have done so much more with it… You felt the pressure inside, correct? You felt it warm up and press at your rather impressive erection?” Ami pushed off her Handmaiden’s wrap. It too hit the mink carpet with a splash, sending bits of gelled cum splattering into the furs on a nearby chair. “The milking muff’s body is filled with a reactive bio-gel, which enhances the experience immeasurably. The Countess finds the experience to be divine. I can ask for no higher praise.”
“Lighten up, sweetie, I’m not questioning your abilities. And yeah, that muff was a spectacular fuck. That’s about as close as I’ll ever get to describing something as ‘divine‘.” Tiffany added a campy Russian accent to the last word.
Ami’s face did little to hide the contempt. Instead she looked away, “Just shower.”
* * *
The fraternity of locker F69 took about an hour to arrive at the Fox Mesa Ski Resort via taxi, check in, unpack and convene again at the restaurant in the main lodge. Perched on the side of a steep mountain face, the circular restaurant’s wide bank of slanted windows looked out over the white valleys below and neighboring peaks far beyond. Sitting atop a complex steel latticework, the lodge dining area provided spectacular views any time of day.
The eyes at this table were not drinking in that view. They were scanning the room around them. As every woman from teens and below to retirement age and above walked around dressed quite warmly, there was no lack of sights to see.
“Damn, man, this is gonna be so sweet.”
“I told you so.”
“Yeah. Can’t believe we hadn’t done shit like this sooner.”
Jim shrugged, “Heh, we ain’t exactly middle class, but we ain’t the kind of rich you get here. I mean, look at that shit…”
Jim nodded to a middle-aged blonde in a white lynx stroller that probably cost upwards of 15 grand. She was leading a six-year-old toe-headed blonde child around. The child wore a black mink jacket with a small matching mink pillbox hat. Both were lead to a table across the sparely populated restaurant’s main floor.
“Shit, man, wish she was my mom.”
They all laughed.
“Talk about MILF.”
Jim nodded, “Heh, more like FILF.”
They all laughed more.
Jim shook his head, “Ugh, that was bad.” He still laughed.
The waitress came by to a get a drink order. Without a single stitch of fur clothing, she didn’t garner much attention.
Once she gone, Kendal asked, “We still on for tonight?”
Jim fished into the pocket of his leather bomber jacket. “Right here.” He laid the tickets out on the table. The text on each ticket indicated it would admit one to the Fox Mesa “Hawaiian Night Party.” A second line indicated it was “The Hottest Night On The Mountain”.
In smaller print below a clip-art rendering of a hula skirt was printed, “Keep warm on the way and party in your beach wear- free coat check provided.”
* * *
Tiffany indulged herself. The water beating down on her face and hair was a pleasure more rare than fur, if one far less powerful. The vagabond lifestyle meant regular shower facilities became a luxury. It had been a few days since her last one, and the detour from the airport last night had only prolonged matters. The large bathroom was well stocked with toiletries and a variety of high-end cosmetics.
Perhaps the only noticeable deficiency was a lack of feminine hygiene products.
With a bit of regret Tiffany shut off the water and pushed back the large glass door to the stall. The ornate bathroom fixtures were clouded over with condensation, so she cracked the large walnut door to let cool air in. She toweled off her huge, round breasts and continued down her voluptuous form, one perfectly soft and feminine in every way.
With one minor exception.
She squeezed her foreskin to get the excess water out and blotted off her hairless scrotum. As the relatively rough knit towel drew the excess water away she felt her testicles. Though the swelling from Ami’s “milking muff” had subsided somewhat, its effects had not worn off completely. Her sac felt fuller and heavier than usual, and yet she wasn’t sexually excited.
Someone else sure was.
Tiffany’s eyes flicked to the open doorway. The unmistakable sounds of passion floated up through it. One of the voices belonged to Ami. It was not the cool dispassionate tone she’d come to recognize, however briefly. It was loud and commanding, quite filled with burning purpose.
Tiffany took a fresh towel with her and wrapped her long wet, darkened locks inside. Otherwise she was naked as she left the bathroom. She made little effort to mask her movement down the creaky wooden stairs, as it was quite apparent the noise level from below would easily conceal her approach. Once at the bottom of the stairs she turned and took the few short steps to the living room. Tiffany stood at the end of the hall, looking into the living room at the scene before her.
Ami mounted the chauffer, Jacqueline, in a doggy-style position and rammed her foot of cockmeat into the shemale chauffeur’s upturned ass. Ami’s spunk stained mink bodysuit had not been changed. Tiffany’s viscous, drying jizz darkened large swaths of the suit’s legs and buttocks. Ami’s raven black hair was still stringy and wet with it. She certainly did not seem concerned with the situation.
Jacqueline was quite concerned, judging by the pain laced cries she emitted. Her body pressed into a stack of fox and lynx pillows atop the chinchilla couch cushions. Additional fox pillows propped up her lower torso. Fox pillows, Tiffany judged, that Jacqueline’s own cock slid between like a fur sandwich. She could see the jolts of pleasure cresting in the shemale’s soft features each time her hips thrust forward. Her long brunette locks whipped back and forth as she shook her head. “AAAAAAAAaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”
“Scream more, I love it,” Ami moaned in a commanding tone.
Ami leaned forward, reaching down and sliding her arms around Jacqueline’s upper body, her hands grabbing at the figure’s mink covered tits. Ami rubbed them, squeezing the chauffeur’s dangling jugs, squeezing them hard and causing her to cry out again. Ami’s hips surged forward, forcing more of her veined cock past the special ‘trapdoor’ in the mink bodysuit and further down into Jacqueline’s ass.
Ami’s hands grasped and pulled down the front zipper of Jacqueline’s sheared mink bodysuit, peeling it back and freeing her huge, hanging boobs. The chauffeur’s nipples were long and hard, especially vulnerable when Ami’s fingers began to pinch them. This elicited another cry from Jacqueline, who, though still panting like the bitch in heat she certainly was, had tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Squirt your milk like a good little cow.”
Ami’s words preceded two long white streaks flying from Jacqueline’s thick nipples. The white fluid sprayed out as if from a broken faucet. Jacqueline’s head tossed back, “AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The brunette shemale’s breast milk splattered down in white lines against the pile of fox pillows below her swollen udders. The pearly substance was hot and ropey, like thick breakfast syrup, not the thin solution the average female breast produced. Ami’s fingers massaged Jacqueline’s teats with expert motions, even as her cock plowed into Jacqueline’s tight ass.
The syrupy milk shower soaked down the exposed fox pillows and ran, however slowly, down into the chinchilla couch cushions beneath them. The vaguely familiar scent of it reached Tiffany’s nose. That scent was one she hadn’t smelled in some time. Unlike the overpowering musk of her spunk, the smell of the warm syrup from Jacqueline’s nipples was a pleasant one, vaguely like vanilla. It certainly had something in common with the powerful, glutinous goo that issued forth from Tiffany’s massive cock- it soaked and ruined the fur where ever it spilled.
The squirts shooting from Jacqueline’s abused, twisted nipples splattered up and down the pillows and overflowed onto the mink carpet below. White pools on the soft mink grew larger by the second as the fluid rolled down.
Ami’s hips pistoned forward violently. She threw her entire lower body into the motion, keeping the helpless shemale chauffeur pinned down. Ami’s own gulps of air were more frequent, and sweat dotted her brow. Were her black hair not wet and matted with Tiffany’s half-dried spunk, it would be dancing around her beautiful features freely. Tiffany could see how the once huge tits on Jacqueline’s chest were now deflated; the reason soaked into seven or eight blue and blush fox pillows and the chinchilla couch cushions under them.
“Now your true milk, cow,” Ami seethed.
Ami removed her hands from Jacqueline’s nipples and grasped her hips. She reared back and furiously pounded her cock into Jacqueline’s ass. Jacqueline screamed and begged for her stop. Despite the pleading cries, each breath she took also provided a moan of pleasure. Ami gasped, and in a fluid motion rammed as much of her foot of cockmeat into Jacqueline as was physically possible.
Tiffany watched, feeling the orgasms in progress from across the room. Ami’s long red nails dug into the mink bodysuit that wrapped around Jacqueline’s hips, splitting it as her balls began to empty their load into the chauffeur’s ass. Jacqueline shuddered and shook like a rag doll, her own hips jerking forward like a runaway piston. Tiffany frowned, as the pillows between which Jacqueline’s cock was sandwiched obscured her view of what was probably a spectacular fur spunking. The milking had already created a huge mess of white fluid on the furs, and that alone was enough to keep Tiffany’s attention. Yet missing out on the ‘main event’ was a bit of a disappointment.
Even Ami seemed content to empty her bloated nut load directly into Jacqueline’s ass. Tiffany could almost count the spurts going off deep in the powerless shemale’s bowels simply by the motions of Ami’s lithe body. Each time her hips jolted forward was a sure sign a white blizzard of fluid was squirting from the tip of Ami’s cock. Tiffany counted- one… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine… ten… eleven… shit… thirteen…
Tiffany reached the twenties before Ami’s hands pushed back, and her cock popped out of Jacqueline’s throbbing sphincter. When it did, another burst of white cum erupted from the pisshole and sent a streak of cum down the back of Jacqueline’s black sheared mink bodysuit. While that happened, a thick rush of what Ami already shot into Jacqueline began sluicing out like a heavy white waterfall. Ami’s fresh jizz rushed out as if from a punctured water balloon, flooding down the mink bodysuit’s hips and gushing over the collected fox pillows between her legs. It also hit Ami’s bodysuit, her own sheared mink soaked and dripping from the explosive release of cocksnot.
Ami’s dick jolted and burst out at least ten more time before finally calming. This left ragged, wide white streaks down the back of Jacqueline’s mink suit. Like a white skunk streak, the black fur was completely soaked through by the last bursts from the Handmaiden’s cock.
The pleasant scent of Jacqueline’s milk had been permanently erased by the generally familiar yet specifically unfamiliar musk of Ami’s girlgoo. Tiffany drank that in as well. The smell of the jizz mixed with the ambient scent of fresh fur that suffused the entire house. It was one of her favorite scent combinations. Nothing like plucking a fur at the height of its “freshness”, right out of the craftsman’s hands. So young, so innocent, and so doomed.
Tiffany smiled to herself. It took her a moment before she realized she’d watched the entire spectacle without once grabbing her cock or picking up one of the many available fur pieces to jam her cock into. Then she recalled the fulfillment of Ami’s milking.
Damn, she is good.
Ami slid back and stood up, rocking a bit on her heels before fully regaining her balance. Her semi-flaccid cock swung, coated in white goo, between her legs. The front of the mink bodysuit was coated white from her torso down her ankles from the explosive cum backwash shooting from Jacqueline’s well-fucked ass. Jacqueline seemed passed out on the couch below her.
“Enjoy the show?”
Tiffany shrugged, “I suppose I did, I’d usually have a hard-on to prove it.”
“As I said, you won’t be… going off half cocked… for the next few days,” Ami said matter-of-factly.
Tiffany smiled and nodded slowly. “Nice one…”
Ami nodded, “Thank you.” She reached down and took hold of the unconscious Jacqueline’s arm and began to pull at it.
Tiffany walked up and took hold of Jacqueline’s over arm, “What are doing?”
“Turn her over, that’s all,” Ami said.
“Okay…”
Tiffany rolled Jacqueline’s inert form onto her back. This had the effect of soaking up more cum and milk syrup into the chauffeur’s already saturated bodysuit. The chinchilla couch was a complete pool of white genetic material and ruined fur pillows and cushions. Tiffany looked down at Jacqueline wet, splattered body. “Ah… saving up for later?”
Jacqueline’s erection, more accurately, the purple, mushroomed tip, was sheathed in a latex condom. Not one available for purchase at fine drugstores everywhere. The condom’s equivalent of a ‘reservoir tip’ was a large balloon-like sac. Through the translucent, shiny material it was obvious that Jacqueline’s own milking experience had been quite successful. The condom hung off the end of her cock with at least a pint of spunk inside. It had been effectively hidden from sight by the piles of fox pillows. Ami grasped the end and rolled it back off Jacqueline’s cockhead carefully, preserving the hot fluid inside and ensuring nothing spilled.
Tiffany looked down with a raised brow, “Trophy collection?”
Ami shook her head as she raised the ballooned sac up and held it in her palm, regarding the contents. “Not quite.” She grasped it by the open end and twisted it closed. “Get dressed, I will shower and meet you momentarily… We’ll begin the briefing then.”
Tiffany nodded slowly. Watching Ami walk into the kitchen with the full condom balloon of shemale semen, something tingled in Tiffany’s memory, but when she tried to grasp it, it fled. Shaking her head, she walked back upstairs, leaving the unconscious Jacqueline laying a pool of milk, cum, and ruined fur.
V. New Girl In Town
The clothes were serviceable. A bit less obvious than Tiffany usually preferred, but she realized there would be some sacrifices for this job. A high-cut silk top with designer jeans and riding boots would simply have to do for the moment. No doubt it was something similar to the “active chic” common amongst the less-than-active rich who frequented the mountain resort. The boots were a good balance between fashionable and useful. They were obviously custom-made, possessing additional tread that would make running a little easier.
Tiffany sighed, thinking, damn, haven’t worn anything without a heel in… wow…
Tiffany returned from the second floor once more. It was somewhat of a disappointment to find no one fucking when she arrived. She noticed the pool of white goo and destroyed fur on the couch remained, but white, spunky footprints leading away to the nearby bathroom indicated Jacqueline had regained consciousness and decided to clean up. There were no moans coming from the shower.
Ami entered from the kitchen. Her outfit was just as simple- a red, skin-tight ski suit and boots. No doubt a fur jacket would look marvelous over it. She, like Tiffany was not wearing any second skins at the moment. Ami crossed the living room to the adjoining kitchen. Tiffany followed, expecting business to begin. Ami opened the fridge door and looked around. She removed two jugs of Powerade and tossed one to Tiffany.
Tiffany regarded the 22oz. sports drink with a bemused look on her face. “Not exactly standard post-coital fare…”
“What is ‘standard post-coital fare’… for us… here?”
Tiffany nodded, twisting off the plastic cap and taking a drink. Watery. “Point taken.”
“What is standard post coital fare for you, Miss St. James? The file we have on you indicates you rarely, if ever, engage in anything even remotely resembling ‘coital’ activities…”
Tiffany paused after taking another sip and stared across the wooden kitchen table at the First Handmaiden. “I take it you mean I don’t actually fuck anyone?”
Ami nodded.
Tiffany shook her head, “I wasn’t aware I was here to be psychoanalyzed…”
“Just something I noticed in the file,” Ami said, sipping slowly from her own container. “We all have the fetish, of course… Most of us are still able to enjoy … well…” Ami paused, cocking her head to the side and staring up a moment, “Saying ‘normal’ is a bit of a catch-22, but you understand…” She continued, “Most of us are still able to enjoy ‘normal’ sexual activity, the kind that involves the orifices ‘God’ gave us, so to speak…”
“What I fuck is not really a concern of yours,” Tiffany said. “Fur is all I need to get off, and get off fucking great, why bother with anything else?”
“Very well, I was merely curious. You do seem to find the experience more… pleasurable… when you are ‘getting off’ with someone’s coat while they’re wearing it, preferably… without permission…”
Tiffany scowled, “Maybe I’m just jaded… Besides… You and I both know, with cannons like we’ve got between our legs, there are limits to what we can do with most members of the opposite sex… both of them. Simple, physical limits….” Tiffany’s face darkened, and she looked away from Ami. “You know that too, and you know some of us aren’t ready for that kind of ‘responsibility’. Some of us like to use our cocks… very badly…”
“You include the Countess on that list?”
Tiffany looked back towards Ami. “Fishing for your boss?”
Ami smiled as innocently as she could manage. “There were ‘rumors’ after your departure. And the Countess seemed quite incensed… on a very personal level.”
Tiffany simply shrugged, “I wasn’t aware she had a ‘personal level’ anymore… The things she allows to go on in there now… It all went to her head.”
“And you left instead of trying to stop it?”
“Now you are fishing… For what, I don’t know.” Tiffany finished most of the blue fluid in the container. “I wasn’t going to change anything by staying there… Leaving was my only option. Let her do whatever the hell she wants, I’m not there anymore so I don’t care.”
“There was another option, as I said, ‘trying to stop it’.”
Tiffany’s head dropped. Her hair was mostly dry now. The silky, bright flame-red strands shrouded her face as they slipped forward. The streak of white-blonde sprouting from her right temple resolved itself shortly. “You mean with my sparkling personality and consummate skill at persuasive oratory?”
“No, by killing her.”
Silence followed Ami’s matter-of-face statement.
Tiffany stared at the table. She wasn’t thinking of how to reply. There was only, for a few fleeting moments, the same thoughts and the same arguments, in her head when she left the ranch.
“Too much loyalty, Handmaiden… Misguided though it may have been at the time. I wouldn’t have walked out of that place with only the Countess’s blood on my hands. So I just walked out.”
Tiffany tilted her head back and finished the last of the sports drink. “Now… Let’s get on with this. I don’t need our fine Countess thinking she needs to bring in any more… ‘outside help’.”
Ami shrugged, “Considering the situation, your-”
“-Don’t even say it,” Tiffany snapped. “That faux French bitch isn’t anything to me anymore, and the second I even think she’s within a hundred fucking miles of this dump, I’m out of here.”
* * *
Jayne Harris smiled for the camera. In the bright midday sun the green highway sign behind her almost gleamed. Jayne thought she looked nervous, but the agency rep didn’t seem to care. Jayne kept a hint of a smile plastered to her face. Anxiety about leaving without telling anyone percolated in the back of her mind. Still, this could be the chance of a lifetime.
Jayne cocked her head to the side and forced a big smile for the camera. It clicked away reassuringly before her. The crystal fox hairs of the big, bulky fur coat’s collar fluttered across her small cheeks. The collar stood up around her head like a wreath. She worried about the tail of the coat, which dragged the snow due to her small stature. The agent said not to worry about it, she had more that would fit her perfectly. These were just “test shots” after all. The sheer weight of the coat surprised Jayne when she first eagerly put it on. The super enormous fur was kind of like the one the modeling agent wore.
Only the agent filled that one out much better.
Jayne blinked, the agent was so pretty. Jayne only hoped she grew up to look half like her- all tall and blonde. She was at least two feet taller than Jayne, her makeup perfect and professional. Her blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, drawn away from the silver legs of her dark sunglasses. Such a sophisticated voice, too. Jayne hoped she could have a really cool French accent like that one day. Jayne did a halting spin, trying her best to look like “the next big thing” in modeling.
Her big chance. Discovered at a highway rest stop by a real live modeling agent. It was too good to be true, but it was really happening. Jayne’s mind bubbled over with the possibilities.
The expertly accented eye behind the camera narrowed. The severe bun held radiant strands of blonde hair in check, lest they twist freely in the chilly breeze. She did fill out her silver fox coat far more amply than the short, thin figure before her. As the winds caught the tails of the coat her spike heeled boots and slim Armani skirt were visible in brief flashes. The matching suit coat above it was invisible under the full body of the ankle-length sliver fox.
Jayne smiled again, striking another pose she remembered from Teen Vogue.
The agent was so tall, so glamorous, so business-like. She was the height of cool to the girl’s mind. Anxiety was falling away in the midst of dreams of a real modeling career. Fame and fortune waited if she could impress this lady.
“How old are you, dear?”
Jayne smiled, the French accent was ultra-cool. She repsonded.
The camera’s shutter whirred away. The enormous crystal fox coat swayed on the teen’s small body as she mimicked poses from fashion magazines, all while trying far too hard to smile. The big, round cuffs of the coat weighed her arms down. Jayne
“A little old for my usual tastes… But, I think you’ll do…”
Jayne’s eyes widened hopefully, “Really?”
“Oui, oui…”
“Thank you so much!” the girl beamed.
The self-described modeling agency rep let the camera fall. “The pleasure will be all mine, I assure you…”
Jayne continued to smile, any conceivable subtext lost to her in her elation. The rep was a tall, professional woman. What threat could she pose? Jayne beamed her smile, thinking that it wasn’t like it was some freaky looking dude doing this.
“Get in the car.”
Jayne ran over to the black Escalade, the tail of the huge crystal fox coat dragging the snow as she did.
The agency rep followed at a slower, more regal pace. She got in the drivers seat and, momentarily, the Escalade pulled onto the highway.
It was only a minute before the road sign reading “FOX MESA 110 MI” was completely out of sight.
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