Lord Charodon sniffed the air, a troubled expression on his broad, toothy face as he looked over the young Sapien woman before him.

Guan Riyin was quite a sight, after all. Her beautiful, delicate features had turned many a head, and her tanned complexion and deep purple hair evoked the distant east, and gave her a supernatural air. An air enhanced by her attire, the thin pink and red satins of the dancing garb she used to wear regularly. It did much to enhance her other appeal too, showing the smooth skin of her thighs and cleavage, her trim tummy, and her long, fluffy tail.

That prehensile appendage was adorned with red and gold ribbon bonds, matching those just over her bare feet, holding the leggings tight at her ankles. They evoked the sordid history of the garb, even in the absence of the accompanying chain, and they emphasized her three remaining limbs.

At her shoulders the outfit highlighted rounded bumps, the spectral veils of flowing fabric showing how her body came to a stop, a crease in her flesh just visible where her arms used to be.

Behind a willoak desk near as large and decadent as he, the great white Selchan was a match for her display, resplendent in the finest Southern silkware. It was an assumed style – so far as Bran could discover, Lord Charodon was born and raised right there in the city of Orosun Par – but he wore the finery well. His towering figure loomed his two guests, even while he was seated, and though he might have long passed the vital and active stage of life, his scales starting to fade from blue to grey, Guan could tell that he must have been magnificent in his youth.

“I asked Lord Oblesson to send me an example of one of the so-called ‘hard luck’ cases he assists with, but… my dear girl, are you truly a former adventurer?”

“I am, my lord,” the Sapien replied.

With the doubled voice unique to her kind, it was as though two speakers were replying in unison, harmonizing in an enchanting cadence.

“I was once a mage, and thanks to Lord Oblesson’s aid I serve him now as an advisor in all matters arcane. Generous and kind as he has been to me, he hopes you can assist him in preventing others meeting a fate like my own.”

Her shoulders gestured illustratively, her face held rigidly straight as she answered. Hopefully Cassandra, sat at her side, wouldn’t blurt out anything unhelpful.

Lord Charodon’s frown deepened, a pained look coming over his face.

“But, my dear girl, how can you… manage with such a body?”

Guan smiled, trying to keep the expression from turning to a grin. In the back of her mind she congratulated Bran – ‘Lord Oblesson’ – on his judgment. He was no more a lord than Charodon, but she would let the Selchan have his airs if it would win his backing.

All she need do was play up her struggles, her needs and challenges, and the softhearted old shark would be eating out of her hand.

Well… not her hand. Guan hadn’t had hands for some time now, after all. It still felt strange to think, especially today. Her role demanded she play the victim, the helpless amputee in need of aid just to get back on her feet. In a quite literal way.

“It’s difficult,” she admitted, recalling those early days.

“Sometimes I wake up in the mornings and I just… try to push myself up… and nothing happens. Then it hits me that it wasn’t just a bad dream… that I really did lose my arms…. It can be overwhelming, even just trying to eat and dress myself each morning took me hours….”

The memory of the frustration was still fresh, despite the time elapsed, but beneath it simmered something else. Tension. A tantalizing sense of… arousal… as she recalled those early days… that helplessness…. The first time she’d been too horny to let her injury dissuade her… and she’d made love to her bedpost for almost an hour.

Why did those thoughts still come to her, and why now of all times?

She banished the memory. His Lordship was waiting for her to go on.

“That’s why Lord Oblesson paired me up with Cassandra,” she explained, “she helps me with everything I can’t do anymore. Dressing myself, washing my body… other things like that.”

The powerfully-built, naturally armored Dilloran was clad in a smart casual suit that she filled out impressively, her own outfit also leaving her barefoot and sleeveless. The curvaceous, blue-haired and tan-skinned woman was just as distinctive, even if she had all her body parts.

Cassandra posed, slapping her bicep proudly.

“That’s right, I got arms for two!”

Lord Charodon was spared the need to think of an answer for that, as his butler, an elderly Lagomorph who could have been some distant cousin of Bran, arrived with tea.

The blue-furred servant set a cup before each of the three, and retired respectfully, with only a single long, quiet glance at Guan’s shoulders. She’d gotten used to the stares – she’d had to – but today they were on her mind.

Guan’s shoulder twitched towards the cup before her, as leftover instinct tried to move a part of her that no longer existed.

Lord Charodon pursed his lips at the way her frills danced, so perfectly highlighting the futile gesture.

Perfectly calculated, Guan told herself, as she blushed, as if just realizing what she’d done, and feeling dismayed.

It was all part of the performance, one she had grown rather adept at. But the blush itself was real… as was the strange tingle in her nethers as she made herself feel that humiliation, that helplessness once more.

The distraction almost blew the whole charade, as her tail snaked up to grip her cup, but her companion stopped her with a hand.

“This is the part where you spill the tea everywhere,” Cassandra said dreamily, “I’ll hold it instead, I don’t like how the willoak looks with stains, and there’s no way I’m going back to halcon-breeding to pay the cleaning bill.”

Even after all this time, it was still surprising when her bodyguard and helper glimpsed through possible futures – or alternate histories.

As Cassandra held the cup up to her lips, Guan leant in and took a small sip. It was hot, and she had to blow on the tea before she could make much progress, however the others waited patiently for her.

The Dilloran kept moving the cup just a little further from her mouth as she sipped, forcing her to stretch forward, balancing awkwardly in her seat as her shoulders tried to compensate.

“That’s enough for now, thank you,” she said at last, when her pride could take no more of the pitiful looks of the Selchan or the playfulness of her friend, “could you scratch my nose for me though?”

That too was part of the display – her feet could easily have reached the feigned itch. It was humiliating to have another touching her face for her, but it helped sell the image they needed.

Even if Guan was frustrated, Cassandra seemed to be greatly enjoying herself as she gave the Sapien woman’s petite nose a good rub all over.

“Well I should say I’ve seen an ample demonstration of the necessity of Lord Oblesson’s proposal,” Lord Charodon said, a sorry expression on his generous face. “I shall of course be glad to supply my company’s emergency beacons… at… cost.”

Victory.

But as evidenced by his pained struggle to pronounce those final words, they dared not retreat and let the man reconsider – or catch on to how much of the display that afternoon had been manufactured to tug at his heart-strings – so the signing was immediate.

That meant Guan had to sign on behalf of her employer.

Cassandra placed the pen in her mouth, and she gripped it awkwardly with her lips as she bent over the board on which the Dilloran held the contract.

Scrawling her name as best she could, she deposited a childish etching on the ornate document, writing out her first name.

That just left her surname, but leaning too deep into the curve in the ‘y’, the pen slipped from her mouth and smeared a streak of ink against her cheek as it tumbled to the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quickly.

Lord Charodon was effusive in his assurances that it was of no consequence.

The pen was soon replaced in her mouth, and she completed her signature, such as it was. Signing was always the most humiliating part, but it was no act. Adapted to working with her toes and tail, she really couldn’t do much with her mouth alone.

Mercifully, Lord Charodon’s own considerably neater mark soon underwrote her scrawl. With the document signed and dated their goal was achieved and they were free to go.

Guan breathed a sigh of relief as they got outside and Cassandra restored her wand-belt to her. With her magic at her tailtip she was herself again, not a helpless girl without arms, living on the pity of her employer, but a powerful enchantress, and Bran’s mage on retainer.

She couldn’t help but feel a small sense of regret too however, as her independence was restored. And it seemed Cassandra felt the same.

“I always like seeing you play the part,” she explained, as they rode along in a horseless carriage. “All struggling and cute… makes me wanna help you… or maybe tease you.”

Guan could have seen to the ink-stain on her cheek easily with the aid of her telekinesis wand, but she allowed Cassandra to clean her face instead. The careful touch felt pleasant in a way that cold, lifeless tendrils of force never did, and the Dilloran held her face gently for a moment as their conveyance rocked them along the cobbled street.

By the time they arrived home it was late afternoon, the mansion of ‘Lord Oblesson’ lit up in golds and reds as the low sun struck the marble edifice.

She wanted to change out of her old dancing gear, but that would take time, and important paperwork was waiting for her.

Guan parted with Cassandra as she retired to her office to get on with the least interesting part of her job.

Her wands could easily handle the task, but the printed letters of magic were distinctive, and wholly inappropriate for documents meant for the eyes of strangers. A tail was also ill-suited to the precise control of writing, and so for such times her desk and chair had been adjusted to allow her to comfortably raise her feet up onto the lowered surface, and operate her pen with her toes. It was still a chore to write out notes and instructions, and see to other correspondence by foot, taking twice the time that it would have with wand or hands, but no-one reading her letters could have guessed they were her footwork.

Night had fallen by the time she was done. Setting down the pen at last, she stretched her legs and spread her toes, arching her back as she worked her chest muscles.

Her tail-tip brushed back a few stray strands of hair from her face, and applied the force needed to click the lid back onto her pen as she held it between her soles.

There was just enough time after that for her to have dinner, before she would be seeing Cassandra again.

She ate alone that evening, Bran still off on business of his own, and the Dilloran out seeing to her errands, but that was no impediment. She had made it clear to the cook and the other house staff; they weren’t to help her in any way, and she expected the same food and service as everyone else. Aside from what Cassandra did for her, she could fend for herself.

Indeed, her feet could work the more delicate implements almost as well as fingers once had, operating her spoon to carry soup to her mouth without spills. Her prehensile tail moved heavier objects, hefting her glass for a drink between bites of her sandwich.

After that, as the servants were clearing away her plates and cutlery, she heard the sounds of Cassandra arriving back, and went out to greet her.

The Dilloran was just done brushing the city dust from her feet as Guan entered the hall, and she lunged at the Sapien with arms outstretched.

Guan could have evaded the cobrear-like strike, but the amputee let herself be pulled into the powerful arms of her protector.

“Good to see ya, girl,” Cassandra said, stroking the smaller woman’s hair, “I missed my pretty little princess, but you’re just as lovely as the day I plucked you from that tower.”

“Wrong history, Cassie,” she answered, giggling, her tail tapping the taller woman’s sensitive nose.

“I can’t be your knight in shining armor scales then?” she asked, scaled face falling, “I came back to warn you of the dread lagodreyk. He’s due back home soon you know.”

Guan’s lips curled into a grin, hunger returning to her face despite the hearty meal she’d just finished.

“Would this ‘lagodreyk’ perhaps answer to ‘Lord Oblesson’?”

“When suffering from a suitably big head,” Cassandra confirmed.

“Well then, my knight, I believe I shall require your succor after all. Dragons are known to take fair maidens for their playthings, are they not? So I’ll need to be as fair as possible before he arrives….”

They retired together to Bran’s private rooms to prepare, the Dilloran insisting on carrying her ‘princess’ up in the bridal style.

One of her hands gripped Gaun’s shoulder through her thin covering as she was hefted, sinking into the sensitive, tender skin that was all which remained. Biting her lip she glared at her attacker, but the look in Cassandra’s eye was wholly unrepentant.

“This is not the proper way to treat a princeeueeuh-”

The Dilloran’s fingers gave a gentle squeeze, sending a tremulation through body and voice of her charge. It was humiliating to be held like that, but the rushing blood that filled her cheeks was tingling in her lips too. In both sets.

“I shall allow this insubordination this once,” she declared, “but don’t you think you’re getting off with just dumping me on the bed and leaving, Cassie.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” her caretaker answered, gripping her just a little tighter by that… perverse… degrading stump… making her tail quiver at the sensation.

They began with disrobing. A princess couldn’t be expected to do such things herself after all. Cassandra could do it faster anyway, her fingers outpacing even the practiced toes of the Sapien.

Her wands were stripped away, and with them her power and her agency… but that night Guan desired neither.

Next came the veils and scraps of cloth that posed as garments.

Untying and removing her leggings exposed the graceful curves and thick waist and thighs which had made her dancing so exquisite, and she stepped obediently from her panties as they too were stripped away.

Her sex hung exposed, a fluffy mound of purple matching her scalp, in which nestled the aching slit that even now was crying out for her touch.

Cassandra granted the unspoken wish with a playful tug of the tangle, making Guan arch against her, breasts shaking as a tremor ran through her muscles. The tug became a caress, as fingernails parted the hairs and brushed over her tingling labia.

It was just what her body longed for, and exactly what she lacked the capacity to give herself. Guan could use her tail, yes… but it wasn’t the same. Compared to a hand her tail was a blunt instrument, clumsy and brutish when dealing with so delicate a place.

To stimulate her nothing could compare to a mouth or manhood, or just the simple joy of fingers. She hadn’t learnt to appreciate that until hers were gone. The beautiful elegance of her armless body made her passions a torment, her own flesh ever denying her, her own sexuality turning against her to tease and tantalize Guan with her impotence.

But after that tortuously brief inspection Cassandra showed no special care to the needy vulva – it was nothing she’d not seen many times before.

Instead her knight’s fingers slipped under the straps, artfully exposing her shoulders and the fullness of her chest in one smooth motion. The garment fell away, but the fingers lingered, tracing over the ridges and valleys that marked the loss of what had once been among the most precious pieces of herself.

That too was something she could never do. She had wanted so many times to hold her shoulders for herself, to feel them and to inspect the marks that her amputations etched into her skin. She had tried with her toes many times, but even trained and controlled as her feet had become they wouldn’t match the delicacy of hands. They never would. From the first moment she had awoken in her new body until her final days, she would never touch her own body as she desired to.

For that, she depended on others.

Guan felt her breath run short at that thought, as she stood there, naked and defenseless in the beautiful girl’s hands.

Yet all too soon the moment passed as well, and Cassandra moved off, to change into her own more modest nightwear.

The Dilloran wore a simple short-sleeved shirt and panties, but her hourglass figure filled them beautifully. Added to the lingering sensation of her touch against her shoulders, it was quite enough to set Guan’s heart aflutter.

She was still trying to calm her breath and focus her mind as a sleeveless nightshirt was pulled unceremoniously over her head.

With no limbs in the way there was little need for her caretaker to have her prepare herself, but nor could she disentangle herself. Instead she swayed on her feet, shoulders twisting uselessly at the pleasure of her own attendant.

She was convinced Cassandra enjoyed the lingering surprise and indignation on her face as it emerged from the simple, lace tube.

Settled around her sides, straps held her revealing lingerie it in place, leaving her scarred shoulders totally exposed. So too was her sex, but somehow the former felt the more illicit.

“You look perfect,” Cassandra murmured, letting her hands trail down the shorter woman’s sides to cup her rear. “Can I do anything more for you, Princess?”

“I shall… require… grooming. My royal patch is a little… overgrown, if you take my meaning. And I find myself without a garden hand of late.”

“Say no more!”

Raised off the ground for a second time that night, she yelped – this time it was by her soft, sensitive butt.

The smirking Dilloran set her down in the tub, in the neighboring en-suite, and commenced her pruning duties with a simple scissors. She worked slowly, with extra care paid to create clean, smooth lines around Guan’s lips, yet her knuckles brushed and smeared the wetness of her subject’s nethers repeatedly as she trimmed back the bush into a well-groomed, luxuriant topiary.

By the time the task was done the Sapien’s newly-exposed womanhood was a vision of flawless feminine grooming that her tail and toes could never have replicated, but it was also a swollen and sticky mess.

“I hope you don’t mean to present me to my prince in this state,” she said haughtily.

“I thought he was a duke in this timeline,” Cassandra murmured, tail swishing thoughtfully. “Also part dragon.”

“Cassandra of Plodius!”

The taller woman was transfixed by the electric blue eyes of the enchantress.

Guan grinned at the Dilloran’s surprised look.

“Prince, ‘lagodreyk’ or duke, my lover is returning this evening, and I expect to be presentable when he gets here…. Now how are you going to clean up this mess you’ve made?”

Cassandra’s tongue was quick to answer, but no words left her lips.

Walking while eating pussy was a talent Guan had never imagined Cassandra might possess, but she was too distracted to comment. Instead she laid back as she was set down on the bed, tail trapped under her body, and she pulled at the other woman’s legs with her toes.

Burgundy eyes looked up curiously through the freshly-groomed fluff of her crotch, but that artistic tongue only slid deeper into her taut, aching vulva.

Guan was already panting, face red with more than just exertion, but she made herself speak.

“I… want to taste you too, Cassie” she whispered.

Giant thighs enclosed her head with impressive alacrity, and as her dear friend knelt over her those thick and powerful legs brushed at exposed shoulders… then squeezed tight. Cassandra took hold of her breasts too, with a knowing, practiced hand.

So many times the armless girl had longed to do the same for herself, but that denial, that lingering frustration made it all the more irresistible when the touch was finally granted her. Working the flesh through Guan’s thin nightshirt Cassandra drove the mage to quivering, breathless moans in moments. For all her supernatural powers the Sapien was helpless to resist; instead she gave herself up willingly as her partner seized control of their lovemaking.

“I’ve wanted this ever since that night in Paris,” the Dilloran said, her hands trailing up the body of her charge. “You’re just perfect like this….”

For the first time Guan wondered in just how many alternate pasts and potential futures had Cassie known her this intimately. From the way her snout nestled into the Sapien’s hips and made her womanhood clench and spasm, it seemed many. She wouldn’t be outdone, however. A surge of passion rose within her hips and chest, and rather than wait she nosed and tugged aside panties with her teeth to expose the Dilloran’s perfectly formed vagina.

Guan pressed her lips to the prize in giddy reciprocation, first kissing, then tasting the most delicate part of Cassandra.

Tongues served both better than even fingers could have, and they moaned in unison into each other’s lips, Guan’s stereo sounds of passion a beautiful harmony as the three voices raised together.

Cassie ground herself down atop the Sapien’s willing mouth, reminding her gleefully of her debilitation with the warm, tight embrace of her knees, while her own long and talented tongue explored her princess’s burning folds.

Feeling so powerless, all control given up or taken, Guan cried out into the wet, musky flesh that gripped so urgently at her licking, penetrating tongue, and the thrilling sense of surrender took her.

The two bucked and rubbed into one another, backs arching in ecstasy as the women reached their first shared climax.

First for Guan at least, she reflected, as her senses gradually returned in the wake of the overwhelming waves of pleasure.

That also left more work for her ‘knight’ to do, cleaning up the mess she had made, but neither of them seemed to mind.

Cassandra was still at it, Guan filled with her, every inch of her body alive with sensation and need, when the long anticipated knock came.

Bran’s arrival was a sweet mercy.

“Apologies for how long my suppertime meeting ran,” came the Lagomorph’s refined, deliberately articulated voice, though the door, “May I enter? I wouldn’t normally ask, but it rather sounds as though you’re already in flagrante delicto.”

Bran had ears as honed as his manners, after all.

Cassandra’s tongue withdrew with a wet, sucking swiftness that made the Sapien on the bed gasp. She planted one final kiss on the aching, tense mound of Guan’s womanhood, and then bid their master enter.

The door opened to reveal the sky-blue young nobleman, resplendent in his evening wear, the blood red doublet a calculated compliment for his platinum blond locks, tied in a tail over one shoulder.

“Come on in, boss,” Cassandra said, waving him inside, “I warmed her up for you.”

As she spoke she was still kneeling atop Guan, her shirt disordered and panties twisted aside, her bare sex settled comfortably on the dark-skinned features of the beautiful woman beneath her.

“Welcome ba-” the Sapien tried to say.

The words were muffled by another pair of insisting lips.

It was perverse, yet the way Cassandra took her like that, used her with such power and control, made her own powerlessness all the more alluring, and Guan submitted eagerly to being her seat once more.

The sight of the Sapien, nude but for her frilled nightshirt, had never failed to delight him. But seeing her laid out, bare sex on full show, face buried in Cassie’s vulva, so eagerly kissing and licking at the larger woman, was all the impetus Bran could ever need to close the door and divest himself of his finery with the full alacrity of his kind. Not to mention the eagerness of one admiring the defenseless form of his lover, moaning into her friend on the bed.

Even without his accoutrements and clad only in smallclothes, he had a noble air, his fur immaculately groomed, his body moving with grace to match the former dancer whose hips he took into his arms, planting kisses of his own around her yearning crotch.

“Wash ih a guh dinnuhr?” she asked him, through Cassie’s engorged, demanding sex.

“Most productive… although I admit, I skipped dessert. I hear your afternoon was similarly fruitful, my dear.”

“It was-” she began, before Cassandra pressed her hips down to rub her juices against the face of her partner, “-frihhhing,” Guan finished.

“Not so thrilling as you, Guan Riyin,” Bran whispered back.

“I mihhhed yoh,” she murmured, still muffled by pussy and the intruding fabric of rather wet panties.

Cassandra took mercy on her at that, and leant back a little, releasing her. The larger woman straightened the shirt about her curvaceous chest, and then adjusted that of the smaller in turn, to properly frame her scars once more.

As she did, Guan looked up from between her legs, past that handsome Lagomorph snout and into Bran’s captivating eyes.

They gleamed back at her, with a knowing pleasure.

“Finish undressing me, my love,” was his simple instruction.

Simple for anyone with all their limbs.

For her, it was a pointed, potent lesson in her own perversity.

Cassandra raised her, placing the Sapien on her knees atop the bed and steadying her hips.

Bran’s hands, usually so restrained, a model of propriety, were unleashed on her as she bent down before him, holding, massaging the exposed circles of skin at her shoulders, and using them as handles to guide her face to his crotch. It was clear without words; in that moment, for that night, she was entirely his.

She shouldn’t feel this way, so… aroused by her own armless body, so thrilled by her helplessness… but as his fingers kneaded and clutched her sides, told her so eloquently how radically her body had been reduced, she quivered with lust. Her lips worked Bran’s underwear down his legs, and her nose brushed and rubbed into the dense fur of his crotch.

As his manhood rose to the occasion he moved her up in his hands, and pressed himself to her mouth. It was the most erotic moment of her life as she kissed him to fullness, her lips and tongue coaxing Bran’s phallus until he shuddered and moved her back again. Pre was already beading on his tip, and she saw the tell-tale flick of his ears that confirmed her lover was holding himself back.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself my sweet Sapien, you still have a job to do,” he reminded her.

The erotic highs grew still higher as she returned to the frustrating challenge. Lowering the garment past Bran’s knees required her to sit and use her toes, and as it tangled about his ankles her tail had to slide in to break it free of each long, digitigrade foot.

“You’re really making me work for this,” she said, her body aching as she fell back against Cassandra’s waiting hands and chest, her task at last complete.

She longed to hold him; to spear herself on his rigid, saluting cock, but after so many exertions Guan couldn’t even lift herself back upright.

“My turn now,” he whispered, as his arms enveloped her.

Passionate mouths came together, her tongue tasting her long-desired lover. His lips were cautious, aware of his large, sharp incisors.

She was grateful for his care, but not that night. Her own lips were bold, parting to lure him into her, her tongue fearless in drawing his out around his front teeth.

Guan was grateful too for his reassuring, kindly embrace, giving her what she couldn’t take for herself, but it was the touch of his other head to her lower opening that she was most glad for.

He pressed his tip slowly into her wetness, shivering at the heat that enveloped him inch by inch, and with Cassandra’s help to move her hips they came together, the young man hilting his sword into her.

“Guan… gods you’re so soft tonight,” he murmured into her ear, as he pulled back a little, and felt her velvet folds grip him.

“I was thinking of you all evening, ‘Lord Oblesson’,” came her playful answer, “not that I didn’t have help… Cassie made sure to ready me for you.”

He pushed in again, and her body squished around him with slick ease. She heard him draw breath, keen senses drinking in the scent he threw up from her body, the musk and thick pheromones that clung to her pussy.

“You’re so exquisite, beautiful and enchanting… you make me lose myself,” Bran confessed, still moving slowly.

“I am… an… enchantress,” she murmured, as they came together again, and his tongue found her pulsing chest.

He planted a kiss on each nipple as he teased her breasts, but that only made her long powerlessly for more.

Instead his mouth moved away, while his hand ran through her hair. The other held her side, her shoulder, giving her the touch she was unable to initiate or reciprocate.

“I used to think myself quite a cad for this,” he said.

She giggled, charmed all over again by the Lagomorph’s gentlemanly nature.

“For what? For loving your employee? I assure you, I don’t hold it against you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he planted a kiss on hers.

“No my love… for adoring you so, just as you are. For delighting and reveling in the debauched sensation of my other half being so… vulnerable… hapless and helpless both. It was all my fault, yet it delights me so to watch you use your beautiful toes and cunning tail… and to see you struggle and overcome the challenges of your body.”

“Oh Bran, you’re so dense,” she answered, an absurd little giggle escaping her full, succulent lips, “you aren’t the only ‘debauched’ one here… the way you took me by my shoulders and moved my body… I’ve never been so wet in my life! Stop fretting and just enjoy this as much as I am!”

Guan’s brilliant eyes met the troubled face of her lover, and she smiled as Cassie raised her chest to his. Gazes met, and each saw in the other a depth of love and connection that none had ever given them before.

He smiled back, and she felt his cock twitch deep inside her at the erotic, taboo thought.

“You wish is my command, my love.”

As he spoke his hands took her by the shoulders, and Guan moaned aloud as Lagomorph thrust and Dilloran pushed her hips, the two meeting with a slap of fur on flesh.

In that moment she longed more than ever for her hands, to touch and knead her teased nipples and the vulnerable flesh below, but… then Bran wouldn’t be holding her by the equally soft, still more vulnerable roots of her missing limbs. Then he couldn’t tease and torment her so, couldn’t tantalize her with the merest touch, or make her toes curl into the fur of his thighs just trying desperately to hold him back somehow.

Guan couldn’t bear to lose any of that, even if it meant suffering all the humiliation and helplessness of her amputated body. Perhaps… in part too, because of it. Bran had said it himself, how… delightful this body was.

In that moment, safely helpless in the arms of two people most precious to her in all the world, Guan knew he was right.

Passions overflowed from there, her bunny-lover proving the skills of his lineage. His decadent caresses coaxed Guan to ever higher pinnacles of pleasure, her breasts, her shoulders, her smooth abdomen and limber back all graced by his touch. His lips in turn saw to hers, and to her ears, her nose, her forehead and cheeks, her neck and cleavage. He roamed her body without restraint, and in return her mouth welcomed his back each time, the passion of their kisses intoxicating.

Aided by Cassandra their hips ground into one another, fast then slow, Bran guiding the pace to extend their pleasure as long as possible.

“Please, touch my shoulders,” she begged, “I want to so much… but I can’t….”



Her soulmate’s hands did for her what she never could for herself, and she quivered at his touch. It was so much better than touching herself ever could have been.

Bodies unbearably hot, with each push together they felt like they were melting into one another, each losing track of where they ended and their lover began. His hands were showing her the body she couldn’t feel alone, and in turn Guan could feel every vein and line of Bran’s shaft. The bumps of the broad ridge of his glans stirred her innards to a frenzy, and she screamed out his name in her climax.

Bran too could trace every fold and crease in his beloved’s sex, and her wonderful, captivating shoulders. He trembled in bliss their bodies seemed to merge, his searing manhood vanishing into the endless soft unity that enveloped their hips, until at last her muscles took him, and her own orgasmic rapture set off his. He clutched her to him as he emptied every drop of his seed into her body.

Neither lover noticed Cassandra, slipping discretely away from them as they collapsed together.

It was some time before either was aware she was gone, but she waited by the bed, fixing her top and panties, until Guan opened her eyes again, and Bran sat up, panting from his exertions.

“Will my princess need anything else tonight?” she asked, grinning down at the Sapien, as the prostrate girl’s chest heaved.

“No… thank you Cassie,” she murmured, tail twitching happily as Bran stroked her soft, empty shoulder, “for everything.”

“It was my pleasure. I mean it.”

The Dilloran kissed her forehead, and gave her other shoulder a gentle pat.

Guan thought again about all they’d done together that day. About the ways that her protector brought out that vulnerable side of her, and the feelings that had drawn to the surface.

She smiled up at the armor-skinned woman.

“Actually… my nose does rather itch, could you help me?”

Her partner giggled as she gave that twitching nose a thorough tending to.

“Any time, Guan, dear.”

With that she left them.

Guan’s long-raised guard was finally down, and the two were totally relaxed together.

The enchanted Bran lay atop her, arms around her sides. She in turn held him back with her legs and tail, her toes brushing his soft calves.

“You really don’t mind, that I can never hold you back like this?” she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Bran smiled his charming buck-toothed smile, and squeezed her a little tighter.

“In all honesty my sweet… even knowing we’ll never hold hands, that you can’t cuddle back… it only makes you more alluring. You’re so ravishing, so seductive in your reduced form, I cannot lie; I like you more this way, my perfect disarmed beauty.”

His brow furrowed as he saw the complicated look in the Sapien’s delicate features.



“I hope I’ve not said too much… I know this… this body is difficult for you-”

She grinned, her eyes glowing with magic and desire as her legs encircled his hips.

“Not just a cad, but a scoundrel,” she murmured to him, as she pressed her breasts into his chest through her shirt, “but rub my stumps for me and I’ll forgive you… since I’m starting to think you’re right.”

After that they shared comfortable, meaningless pillow talk for a while.

When the lovers drifted off to sleep they were still laid there atop the sheets, still cuddling together, arm in leg.