Rosa lays on her bed, her legs spread open and her girlfriend’s lips around her flower, and she can’t even enjoy it.

“Daisy?” She says, her voice cracking. “C-can we stop? Please?”

“Oh Rosebud, of course.” Daisy lifts her head. A line of her saliva and Rosa’s fluids drips from her muzzle down onto her partner’s mound. The 16-year-old gray wolf pulls herself up to lie beside her smaller partner. “Whatever you need. Tonight’s all about you.”

Rosa whines and opens her arms, an invitation that Daisy gladly takes as the two fall into an embrace. The younger timber wolf rests her head between her girlfriend’s breasts. Her spade is swollen and leaking, but her orgasm still won’t come, despite Daisy’s practiced ministrations. Daisy is three years older, and Rosa’s chest has yet to fully develop. Watching the older girl develop throughout their relationship had made her feel insecure, but on the eve of such an important milestone, Rosa realized that maturing was a curse as much as it was a blessing.

“Do you want to look at mine again?” Daisy asks. Rosa nods, still hiding herself in the gray wolf’s fur.

Daisy reaches over to the nightstand. Her paw bypasses Rosa’s fertility test kit and retrieves her own ID from her wallet. A simple pink laminated card, a humble but precious object that exempted the older teen from breeding quotas and permitted her to court women, and only women. The photo’s a few years old now, taken around the time the pair had started dating. “I’m sure yours will look just as good.” Daisy hands Rosa the card.

Rosa says nothing, just stares at the life-defining piece of plastic. The younger Daisy in the photo had messy headfur and a pained expression despite her smile. Most lesbian IDs had photos like that. “I hate this.”

“I know.” Daisy cradles the younger wolf’s head against her shoulder, rubbing behind Rosa’s ears. “It’s stupid, it sucks, and was probably invented by some perverted asshole. That’s what happens when you let men run things. But it’s ten minutes of misery, then you never have to worry about it again. I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

“I…” Rosa’s eyes prickle with moisture. “I only get one chance, what if I-” She tries to finish, but can’t, can’t draw another breath.

“You won’t.” Daisy rubs a paw across Rosa’s chest, coaxing her lungs back into motion. “You won’t fail, I promise.”

“...Some girls fail though, right?”

“Just fakers who want a card so they can be left alone. You aren’t like that, Rosebud. You’ll be fine.”

 Rosa takes a deep breath, stemming her tears before they start to fall.

“You want to go get ice cream afterward?”

Rosa swallows. “I thought you hated ice cream. Said it was dog food.” She says it like a slur.

Daisy lightly taps the tip of Rosa’s nose. “It’s still a little weird that you like it, but you deserve a treat. I want to celebrate with you.”

Rosa curls herself into Daisy’s frame. “Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too, Rosebud.”

---

The exam office. A squat brick of concrete near the wolven city center. An ugly but efficient type of construction common to government buildings made just after the war. 

The waiting room is spartan. Cheap furniture, framed photos of imperial bureaucrats, and a fluorescent hum that’s drowned out by the labored breathing of the receptionist. The white-collared dog is ugly even by sub-canine standards. His snout looks to have been smashed back inside his skull, which explains why he sounds like he’s suffocating even while seated behind a desk. The things that dogs would do to themselves, without wolven guidance, would be frightening if they weren’t so sad, Rosa thinks. At least breeds like these will be gone in a generation.

“Ms. Rosalina Cartwright?” The pug wheezes, “Your proctor is ready in room number five.”

Rosa, clinging to Daisy’s paw like a talisman, leaves the uncomfortable couch and walks down the uninviting hallway. The musk of wolves and sub-canines permeate the entire building, but they’re stronger here. They pass another wolf girl, probably around 19 or so, stepping out of room number two. She looks a mess, haggard, panting, with musk coming off her in waves. Even so, she looks smug. She gives them a prideful nod as they pass. “You got this, girls. The mongrels they use here suck ass.”

Daisy raises a fist, bumping it against the other girl’s. Rosa’s throat is too dry to speak. 

The exam room’s on the small side. Slate gray painted walls, sticky linoleum, and a pawful of chairs make up the guest’s section. Up a step, almost like a stage, is the exam table, surrounded by machinery and idle glowing monitors. Next to the table stands the proctor.

She’d expected him to be uglier.

The blue-collared male sports a coat of brown and tawny fur. A German Shepherd, an old breed from one of the islands off of Houndlund’s coast back when it still had a sheep population. He’s in his late teens, but tall, and well-built. The light streak in his fur starts in the center of his chest, running over his abdominal muscles, cut off by the towel around his waist, his only other article of clothing. His collar matches his eyes.

“You’re Ms. Cartwright?” He asks. His voice rumbles low, made louder by the tiny room. 

“That’s me, yes.” Her eyes flick back to the table, ominous with all its padding and straps.

His smile is mild, neutral, carefully practiced. “You’re a bit younger than we normally see here, miss.”

Daisy’s brow furrows. “Do you have a problem with that, dog?”

“I don’t mean to second-guess you, miss, it’s only that most women choose to wait until-”

“Stop.” Rosa cuts him off. She forces the tremors out of her voice. “I have a recent, positive fertility test, the receptionist confirmed it. I’m allowed to take the exam.”

“Of course. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn.” The male raises his head, exposing his throat in deference. “We’ll need to start in a few minutes. Do you have any questions before we do?”

“I…” Rosa takes a deep breath. “Let’s just go. I want to get this over with.”

“Of course. Come up to the table, and I’ll prepare you.”

Rosa takes a step onto the upper level, hindpaws dragging like cinder blocks. The table smells like disinfectant. A padding covers the top side, sealed and waterproofed with substitute leather. It bends halfway across, for the examinee’s comfort and allows a better view of the proctor and the screens. The leather on the restraints is all too real.

“Undress and climb up when you’re ready.”

She isn’t ready. She won’t ever be. The table is terrifyingly final. She could still leave now, run out of the room, run away from the building and the brown sub-canine with the clear eyes and the fake smile. The second she’s locked into the table, that chance will evaporate. She looks at Daisy. Her girlfriend smiles at her, blowing a kiss across the room. Daisy looks as confident as anything. 

Rosa takes off her blouse. She wants to throw up. Her paws cover her breasts, despite how little there is to expose. Stalling. Pointless. She grabs the hem of her skirt and stops. Locks up. He’s still looking. Her paws shake. C-can’t-

The proctor turns his back to her, facing one of the monitors on the wall. “Just let me know when you’re done, miss.”

Rosa gulps. Daisy says something, some kind of encouragement. Doesn’t matter. Rosa’s paws tighten, then throws her skirt and panties to the floor. She gulps. The room’s suddenly cold against her fur. Her nipples perk up. Slipping her shoes off leaves her completely bare, a sight only her parents and girlfriend had seen, and now…

She shakes her head. Ten minutes, and she’ll never have to worry about it again. Just ten minutes.

She pulls herself up onto the table. The padding smells like bleach and is still faintly warm against the bare fur of her back. Was this used recently? Some other girl must’ve sat here last. What could have been running through her mind? Did she pass? She… probably did. Most girls did. If that nameless stranger could be brave, then…

“I’m ready.” Rosa mumbles.

“Understood.” The proctor turns to face her. His eyes spend a fleeting second raking over her body, cutting through her bashfulness like peeling an orange. He approaches, taking her right paw in his. That brief touch lets her feel his heartbeat, roaring along with hers, before he places her arm in one of the cuffs. He tightens the strap, pressing it into her wrist and elbow. 

It doesn’t hurt. It’s tight, it doesn’t hurt, but she can’t move her arm anymore. Tremors run down her arm and make her chest shake. She’s caught. She can’t get away anymore. The proctor’s paws grab her left arm. She’s shaking like a leaf, legs pressed together, vicelike, holding on to a thin film of modesty despite her nakedness. As he binds her other arm, the proctor presses a paw on top of her balled fist, giving it a squeeze. 

“Are you in any pain, miss?”

Rosa’s breath hitches. “N-no.”

He blinks. “Ah. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but taking a few deep breaths might help.”

“You’re gonna do fine, Rosebud!” Daisy coos from behind the table. Rosa cranes her head, only able to see her girlfriend out of the corner of her eye. “I’ll be right here the whole time. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Rosa sighs, sucking air through her teeth. Focus on breathing. The proctor takes hold of her right knee, binding it in an L-position parallel to her arm. She can feel the room’s stale air on her spade. Focus on breathing. Focus on Daisy’s voice. Pretend it’s her. The blue-collared dog ties her other leg into place. 

She’s completely bound. Totally exposed. Air comes in slow, rumbling breaths. Her limbs press into the restraints with a will of their own. Tremors still ripple along her spine. Her kegel muscles clench and unclench. Her vulva is on full display and presented for easy access to the older male before her. She catches him sneaking glances between her legs as he retrieves a set of electrodes from beneath a nearby monitor. 

He places a set on himself first. As the last electrode pad settles on his scalp, a screen begins displaying a graph of his neural activity. He turns toward Rosa with the second set, causing a noticeable uptick in part of the graph. He places the sensors on her head and chest with practiced care, each one pushed in until it makes direct contact with the skin below her coat. She lets out a yelp as he pokes one into the nape of her neck. He lets out a single laugh, whisper-quiet, before he can kill his smirk and return his face to a practiced neutral expression.

“Why’d you laugh?”

He stops. His eyes flick back and forth, but he says nothing.

“You think something’s funny, dog?” Daisy barks from below the stage. Rosa can hear the snarl in her voice.

The dog’s eyes lock on Rosa’s. She wants to snarl at him too, but can’t. Whatever he’s hiding behind his professional demeanor has her intrigued more than anything. His eyes say the same thing as hers, a mutual ‘I want to know more about you’.

He shakes his head, unable to keep a small smile from returning. “Sorry, it’s just… this is terrible foreplay, isn’t it?”

She giggles. She can’t help it, tries to stop but that only makes her laughter bubble up even harder. His facade breaks in turn, his chest rumbling and eyes crinkling as he chuckles. It’s absurd, all of it. Both of them know, there’s no point in denying it. Completely and utterly absurd.

Daisy laughs. Only once, cold and fake in a way that smothers the tiny ember of joy in the room. “Glad you think that this is funny, dog. I’m sure your masters will agree when they find out.”

He frowns, face once again composed though some tiny flicker in his eyes feels like it could burn both of them to cinders. “I apologize for my inappropriate comment and behavior, miss.” 

He looks back down at Rosa. Behind him, the monitors display complicated readouts of both their biometrics. An automated voice clicks on. “Baseline status recorded. Ready to begin exam.”

The proctor reaches for a bottle of clear liquid. “Lubricant is optional, but it’ll help mitigate any pain you may experience. Would you like me to apply some?”

He sounds distant, but maybe that’s a good thing. It might make what’s about to happen a little easier. Rosa nods, hesitantly, and flinches when he begins pouring the slippery liquid into his paw.

Her arms thrash in the restraints when he touches her spade. She didn’t expect to be comfortable, but this is invasive in a way that makes an ugly black weed take root in her chest. The tip of his paw parts her folds, rubbing the cold liquid into the entrance to her passage. Rosa’s breathing gets deeper. She tries, vainly, to pull herself off the table. The offending digit’s probing her where only Daisy has before, and it’s only going to get worse. She wants to go home.

“Hmm.” The dog withdraws his paw and examines. It sparkles in the fluorescent light, positively drenched. “I don’t think you’ll need to worry about pain, at least.”

Rosa eyes him, heart jackhammering in her chest. She can feel a droplet fall off the edge of her flower and fall down her butt. Tears prick in her eyes as the proctor reaches for the towel around his waist, and drops it to the floor.

Too big.

He’s fully erect and out of his sheath already, a bright red streak that seems to glow against his dark brown fur. This is some kind of mistake, his dick is clearly too big for her, and he’s stepping closer, and-

“W-wait!” She wails. A tear falls. She tries to wipe it away and fails, reminded again that she’s completely helpless before an older male. “Wait, I-I can still stop, right? I… I don’t want to, I’m scared, please.”

He looks down at her, his brow crestfallen, his muzzle crumpling in a way he tries to hide. “No. I’m sorry, but you signed the waiver. We both know that I’m not permitted to stop now.” One of the monitors chimes, and the dog flicks an ear at it. “I’ve already delayed this as much as I’m allowed.”

“Hey Rosebud.” Daisy steps closer, only her head and shoulders tall enough to clear the table. She and the proctor lock eyes for a brief second, but he doesn’t object. “I know it’s scary, but you’re gonna be okay. I was the exact same way when I had to do it.” Daisy reaches up, holding Rosa’s paw in a tight squeeze. Rosa can’t recall if that’s allowed, but there’s no room to stop them.

The proctor flattens his ears. “Miss Cartwright, I understand how you feel, but-”

“How the fuck would you understand how she feels, mongrel?”

The room grows cold again. The dog tenses, and for a moment looks larger than his teenage years, like he could snap at any second and tear both girls to shreds. Why, only now, did he look so tall?

He holds back but doesn’t repress it. His practiced, neutral face won’t fit over that mask of anger. The chime calls him again, and he looms over Rosa like an old hickory tree. “I’m starting.” He says, clipped, and lines his penis up to Rosa’s entrance.

“Exam commencing.”

He enters her.

Rosa gasps. The air won’t come, she can’t breathe, that thing invading her undoes her control over her own body. She’s full. He’s pushed the whole thing in with a single motion that makes her feet curl and her forepaws grasp at nothing. Her body tenses and heaves like a wave, trying to make sense of the intrusion. She’d expected it to hurt, but it doesn’t. Her lungs open again, and her eyes refocus. 

He’s starting right at her, inches away. He hasn’t moved since first penetrating her. 

“I need you to pay attention, miss.”

He pulls back, granting her a half-breath of relief before he hilts in her again, just as strongly as before. She yelps, brain and body in chaos as she tries to process what’s happening. She’s had dildos inside her before, usually when Daisy is in a strap-on mood. Size and motion aren’t the real difference, though he’s larger and more practiced than she’s used to.

The feel of him, though, is completely different.

He thrusts in and out of her, his rhythm strong and consistent. He’s hot, almost boiling hot compared to silicone. He’s gripping both sides of the table, eyes screwed shut and entirely focused on his task. If the physical sensation of fucking someone so young has any effect on him, he hides it well. 

Rosa responds with yips and whines, utterly failing to hide her feelings. Certain spots inside her send sparks up her spine when he hits them. He can tell, easily, and adjusts his pace and angle to hit them better. A moan escapes Rosa’s muzzle. She tries to stifle the others that come after and fails, wishing that she could clamp a paw over her snout. Daisy squeezes her paw again, but she can barely feel it.

She can feel the dog’s heartbeat, though, with each thrust into her pussy. An alien feeling of her body becoming one with someone else’s, a perverse closeness that intoxicates her even as she tries to deny it. Drops of fluid drip onto the floor at a steady pace. Had he really used that much lube? Her moans are deeper and more frequent. His body heat rises from between her legs, filling every part of her body with warmth, and it’s only getting stronger.

Oh.

Oh no. She’s really close.

It snuck up on her fast, too fast. This can’t be right, it usually takes forever for her to get off, but something, maybe the male, maybe the restraints, maybe her body’s peak fertility, is rushing her directly toward her climax. Her eyes lock on the display to her right, her brainwaves dangerously close to a marked threshold. This is bad.

Rosa tries to pull away, tries to calm her traitorous body, but to no avail. The restraints keep her arms and legs held tight, holding her so she’s as easily fucked as possible. She can barely move her hips, and they’ve betrayed her anyway, humping into the proctor’s thrusts regardless of her looming terror. His motions are like clockwork, steady as ever. If he’s even remotely close, there isn’t a single sign.

“W-wait!” Rosa moans, fresh tears falling down her cheeks. He doesn’t stop. “Wait, please stop! Please, please, I can’t!” Her breaths hiccup. Her mind boils and tremors dance across her skin. Her tail’s wagging. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t react, just keeps fucking her, eyes closed, with that same damned concentration.

“Hey, Rosebud, you’ve got this!” Daisy begs, clinging to Rosa’s paw like a lifeline. The girls lock eyes, Rosa starting to full on-bawl and Daisy’s eyes growing misty as well. “You can do it, Rosebud. Just a little longer, you’re doing great. You can do it, just hold on!” A tear falls down Daisy’s cheek.

Rosa sobs, the sensation in her groin overpowering and insistent. She’s clenching her muscles around his cock, trying to pull him further inside her. She’s drenched, her wetness spilling onto the floor below. She can’t stop, can’t hold back. She’s going to cum for him, a sub-canine and total stranger, like a slut. In front of her girlfriend. 

“Love you, Rosebud…” Daisy sniffles.

“I… I… I LOV-!” Rosa’s back arches and she screams, filling the room with pleasure and despair. She can’t do it, can’t even tell Daisy she loves her before-

“Examinee orgasm detected, exam failed.”

The dog stops. 

He opens his eyes, shock writ large on his features. He stares at Rosa. The girl is a mess, sobbing uncontrollably as her body shakes in the restraints. Her spade soaks him in spout after spout of fluid as she cums. He drops his act, his eyes lighting up. “That was… fast.”

“Proctor has been granted insemination clearance.”

“NO!” Rosa wails, throwing every ounce of her strength against the leather and metal holding her in place. All in vain. 

The dark-furred dog starts thrusting again. His expression melts, his tongue hanging out as he starts to pant. His eyes rake over Rosa, her broken face, her flat chest, and her soaking wet pussy. His thrusts are more erratic, his own moans drowning out hers. And, horribly, Rosa is still moaning.

She’s come down from her peak, somewhat, but not all the way. Even as his awful thing keeps invading her, preparing to spill his load and ruin her life, her sopping-wet sex still likes it.

“P-please.” She whimpers, her throat getting sore from crying. “Y-you can’t, I can’t be a mom, I can’t! I was never supposed to be! Daisy, what can we, can we…?” She can’t feel Daisy’s paw anymore. She hasn’t been able to for a while. Rosa turns her head, one way, then the other. She can’t find her.

Daisy’s gone.

“I don’t make the rules, miss.” The proctor huffs, a wide grin on his face like he’s just won a jackpot. He puts one paw on her right thigh and uses the other to fondle her chest. It feels good, and she hates it. “If you weren’t ready for a litter, you shouldn’t have signed up.”

“I wasn’t s-supposed to-” She hiccups and moans again, louder this time. “C-can’t you pull out? Please, I’ll do anything, just d-don’t cum inside me!”

“Not allowed, and you know it. I’m not taking 5 lashes for you.” He hunches forward, thrusting faster. “Besides, I haven’t been able to get off in weeks, I need this.”

Rosa trembles, drunk on terror and lust in equal measure. He’s fucking her like he’s gone feral, wild and passionate. His face beams, ascendantly happy while she falls deeper into hell. More clear liquid falls out of her, making way for the thick white flood to come. Maybe she’s imagining it, but she thinks she can feel him squirt a few drops of pre into her. Trace amounts of his sperm already working their way into her.

“T-this is wrong.”

“Maybe, but you made the rules, wolf.” He smiles at her while baring his teeth. “You don’t get a pass.”

“Proctor orgasm imminent.” 

She’s close again. 

He lets out a low, ragged moan and hilts her, pushing his dick as far inside her as he can. She feels the base swell as his knot inflates, stretching her entrance to the limit and pressing directly on her clit. Her vision swims as the heat engulfs her body again. Her hips buck against his.

“Here come your puppies…” He whispers.

“Please.” She whines. “Please.” She isn’t sure what she’s asking for. Daisy, her freedom, a life of her own, all out of reach. She’s tied down to the table, tied to him, to the children he’s giving her, and the other littlers she’ll have to bear in a few years until she’s met her quota. It’s hard to think about, hard to be scared of when her body’s overstimulated and flush with endorphins,

“Please!”

“Proctor orgasm detected.” 

It starts small, a blast of heat and wetness that her womb greedily drinks in. It’s followed by another, and another. He’s soaking her, pouring rope after rope of his seed into her and she can feel every single one. This... stupid test. A final tear falls. They made her take this stupid test when she was at her most fertile, when her womb would take this drenching and turn it into a litter, her first litter. She’ll give birth before she finishes 9th grade. His knot throbs against her clit. She can feel it, she must be imagining it but she can feel his seed taking root, her first-ever fertile eggs drowning in his cum, knocking her up, giving her children with a stranger of a different species- 

“Examinee orgasm detected”

Rosa leans back and closes her eyes as her body betrays her one last time. Tries to breathe, her windpipe coated in mucus and tears. Failure. Fake. Slut. The sickly-sweet feeling of ecstasy bubbles up from her groin and makes her want to vomit. Disgusting. She’s disgusting.

The proctor nearly collapses, pressing his elbow into the table to stop himself from falling on top of her. His chest heaves, his penis spilling his last few shots of cum inside her. His form is slack, like he’s melted and all the strength has bled out of him. Both lie still, incapable of struggling any further. His knot stays swollen, binding both of them together.

“Daisy…?”

“She left a while ago. Not sure where she is now.”

“C-can you untie me? Please?”

“I can, but you won’t be leaving for a while.” He taps the top of her pubic mound, bulging obscenely above his knot. “You try to force this out early, you’ll rip yourself open.”

“I…” She sniffles. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

He reaches toward the straps, undoing them with agonizing slowness. Even small movements are taxing. The damned things slacken, then let her go. Her left arm’s untied. She pulls it free, scrabbling for even this small bit of freedom. Her paw lands on his chest, and she grasps weakly at his fur. Just to do something, feel something under her paw. Her nerves tingle as her blood flow improves. The proctor reaches for her other arm.

“You didn’t have to knot me.” She whispers. “You still could’ve, y’know, done it, but kept that part outside.”

“Yeah, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Wasn’t really thinking about the aftermath.”

Both Rosa’s arms are hers again. She crosses them over her chest, hugging herself so tightly that she might shatter. She wants to pull away, crawl out of here if need be. Just get out of its damned stage for a dog to fuck her on, and its damned screens showing her ruined life. 

She can’t. Her legs are still tied. She’s still tied to him and the fat blob of sperm he’s put inside her.

“How many times have you done this? Fathered pups with some girl who never wanted them?”

“Fathered’s the wrong word.” His voice is flat, exhausted. “Knocking up? I’ve had to do that often enough that I’ve lost track, but once a girl walks out of the office, I never see her again. Never get to know what the pups look like. I’m not a father in any way that matters.”

Rosa thinks of what her pups might look like and feels an icy blade of dread cut through her. She hopes that they won’t look like him. They wouldn’t have given this boy a blue collar if his kids wouldn’t look wolven, right? A half-breed might not be collared, but passing as wolven would save them a lot of heartache. Ideally, her grandchildren would be indistinguishable from full-blooded wolves, save for whatever desirable features the empire wanted from his pedigree.

What would she think, years from now when she holds a grandchild in her arms and sees a flash of this dog’s blue eyes or the rich dark browns of his coat? Would her mind send her back here, tie her back to this damned table to be tied by a stranger?

Will she ever be free to leave here?

“Do you want a hug?”

“What?” She blinks, clearing his vision. His face is close. He looks tired, worn down. The expression looks strange on someone so young.

“You probably don’t, but… sometimes they do. Maybe it helps, I guess. Most don’t, though. If you don’t, just forget I said anything.”

A lump catches in Rosa’s throat. She wants to be angry, but the flame’s burned out and won’t catch anymore. Her tears are almost gone, too. She’s just spent. “I… no, I don’t. I w-want Daisy.”

He closes his eyes. “Fair. Good luck with her.”

“...Thanks.”

Rosa moves her arm, placing it next to his, the one bearing the weight of his upper body. She takes his paw in hers, feeling along his lines of flesh, bone, and fur. Exploring him. He looks confused.

“Is this okay?”

“...Yeah, it’s fine.”

They wait, catching what they can of their breath, letting their bodies acclimate back to something close to normal. The dog’s knot shrinks, a little at first, and then more quickly. It’s more bearable.

“What’s your name?”

He looks at her, almost smiling even as his eyes seem ready to break down and sob. “Ha. You don’t actually care.”

“Don’t tell me what I care about. You just put a litter in me, I deserve to know-”

“No, you don’t.” He hisses, eyes narrowed to slits. “You could’ve asked at any time if you actually cared. We’ll never see each other again. You don’t care about me, you just want a shield to use when your friends ask who the father is. Something to tell the pups when they get old enough to realize that daddy isn’t around to love them.” He swallows. A droplet falls from his face and lands on their entwined paws squeezed together like hardening corpses. “I’m not some bogeyman for you bastard kids to hate. I already gave you more than I should have. You can’t have my name.”

He pulls out.

Rosa winces. Even partially deflated, his knot still stings on the way out. The flood afterward is worse, though. A river of sperm, first watery then thick and cloying, gushes out of her. She tries to hold it back and fails. It’s like she’s wetting herself.

The dog throws his towel around his waist. He storms to the door, steps fast and frenetic.

“H-hey! My legs!”

“Your paws still work, don’t they? Untie them yourself.”

He slams the door behind him.

Rosa struggles with the straps. The angle is bad, and her paws keep shaking, slipping. She panics for a second, yanking on the first strap and only making it tighter in a frantic effort to get out. It takes her a few deep breaths to find the release and properly free herself. 

Leaving the room is harder. Her legs cramp and buckle, preventing her from walking properly. She limps over to her clothes. Putting on her panties only makes her aware of the matted and cum-stained fur on her legs. Her skirt isn’t long enough to cover it. She puts her blouse on backwards and doesn’t bother to fix it.

She leaves the exam room, finally able to inhale a lungful of air that doesn’t reek of sex. No sign of her dog. She can hear, faintly,  another girl talking in another exam room. Someone else is about to go through the hell she’d just experienced. They’d probably pass, though. They wouldn’t have to leave alone, and pregnant, with a stranger’s cum still dripping into their panties. 

Rosa stares at the floor, everything about her dragged downward by some horrible pit in her stomach. She has to lean on the wall to get back to the lobby, past the front desk and the pug’s tortured breathing. Across the linoleum, almost falling twice before she can reach the exit.

“Rosebud?”

She looks across the lobby. Daisy’s there.

The older wolf is a mess, hunched over, mascara running down her face. Like she’s been crumpled up and thrown away. She stands, walks closer, as if she half-expects Rosa to vanish into thin air.

“Daisy?”

“Rosebud?”

Their pawtips touch.

“D-Daisy I’m SO SORRY!” The dam’s broken again. Rosa thought she had run dry on misery, but she was wrong. Her partner’s presence brings the hurt right back to the surface, fresh and raw. “I R-RUINED IT! I RUINED E-EVERYTHING!” Her sobs are thick, ugly, suffocating. Wailing out her sin to the person she hurt the most.

And Daisy is still there.

She embraces Rosa, hugs her so tight that they both nearly break. Bound together by a cord of unbearable pain. “R-Rosebud,” she wails, “y-you didn’t… Rosa, I should’ve stayed with you, but I couldn’t! It would’ve killed me inside but you, you couldn’t run, you couldn’t!” Daisy bawls, cradling her girlfriend against her chest. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to do this, I just wanted to know that you’d be safe, but, but…”

“The rest of my life.” Rosa whimpers, subconsciously sending a paw to rest on her abdomen. “I’ll have to do this… for the rest of my life. I… I c-can’t be with you.”

Daisy hugs her tighter. “You can. I won’t leave you. You just… can’t be with only me. I have to share you with some scumbag male from time to time. I…” Daisy nearly gags. “I can live with that.”

“I never wanted that, ever. Y-you should hate me for it.” Rosa hiccups, trying to pull away. Daisy doesn’t let her.

“I can’t hate you, Rosebud.”

“...It’s not fair.”

“Yeah. It’s not fair.”

They hold each other, trying to burrow into each other, repeating that mantra to each other, ‘It’s not fair’. Whatever connection they try to make, it’ll be frayed. It’ll come apart again and again. How many times can you re-tie a cut knot until you’re left with nothing, and the rope’s completely undone. It’s a miracle that it survived the first one. 

It isn’t fair.