Infiltration’s Epilogue
By Limewah
Patron Reward for Flarfenarfle (July 2023)
18+

It is recommended you read Infiltration before you read this story - you can find it wherever you found this one!

–

Snap.

A moment ago, the foxdrone had been floating in a deep pool of intense pleasure. Each breath was met with a delicious, mind-numbing scent. His internal monologue was a slow loop of “I obey. I comply. I obey. I comply,” as sure and easy as the tides coming in and out. His body bucked and wriggled weakly against the milking tube as it sucked and pulled orgasm after orgasm out of him. A tube slid into his mouth now and again and poured nutrients into his mouth, to keep him suspended in the pod.
The drone didn’t mind the taste, or even consider the taste at all. He was entirely free of the burden of thought. He drifted in a foggy state, unable - and unwilling - to escape. He could see and sense what his body was doing, but from a passive, distant state, too anaesthetised by his hypnotic bliss to feel any complex sensations.

That changed with the Snap.

It yanked him up, headfirst, forcefully up through the fog. Gravity pulled at him, the sensations of the outer world too, and he was thrown back into the ‘waking world’. 
The office’s fluorescent lights buzzed and burned his eyes. His naked body felt chilly, after having been in that warm, gooey trance for so long. 
He felt like he was breathing for the first time, his lungs aching as the normally unconscious act became a painfully conscious one. He wheezed and bent forward, immediately finding his wrists bound behind him in what felt like a cheap, creaky, uncomfortable office chair. The only thing that stopped him from rolling away was a huge hand on the back of the seat, holding him in place.

“Welcome back to the real world, Clayton Firestick.”

The voice was unfamiliar to the Braixen, and it took a while for his eyes to adjust to the light. The purple and cream colour of the figure behind the desk across from him gradually took shape as a jowly, feline mouth, two beady eyes, and a long skunk’s tail lazily swinging in the air behind him. A Skuntank… 
“Wh… whassss…” Clayton moaned. He could still feel that floaty feeling calling out for him, begging him to come back to it - and how he wanted to. “Where’m I…”
“I had no idea I had someone from the illustrious Firestick bloodline in my battery room,” the skunk continued, brushing off his question as he slowly traced his fingers over a chrome-plated visor on the desk.
“I was wondering why our energy output was so high. Dangerously high, in fact. It’s a good thing we found you. But I’m really curious - how did you manage to blunder your way into there without getting caught? I’m honestly impressed.”
“Nnhn…” Clayton was vaguely recalling his capture now… blunder was the right word for it. He’d sealed his own fate, simply because he’d been thinking with his dick rather than his head. He blushed with embarrassment; a return of another long-forgotten, somewhat unwanted emotion.
“Anyway. We had to pull you out of there. You’re more useful here.”
“Am I…?” the Braixen’s mouth still felt sort of mealy and numb; he was still remembering how to talk; how to do anything other than Obey and Comply really…
“Yes.” The Skuntank didn’t look to be smiling, but there was a hint of a sneer in his voice for sure. “Someone like you, someone with such magic-rich blood… while you could practically power my operations single-handedly down below, I’d much rather have you up here. Someone of your standing… you’ll make a perfect trophy.”

The Braixen stared with confusion for half a second, before an electrical chime sounded in the back of his skull, and he saw a camera-flash quick vision. He saw himself, for an instant, standing to attention, dressed only in a vest, his cock erect, his smile wide and tight…
He huffed, his eyes unrolling from behind his eyelids as he slumped forward again.
Another chime. He was kneeling this time, enclosed by a desk, a fat dick in his mouth…
Then he was back in the real world again, wishing more and more that he was still there. He tried to pull at his bonds, maybe even set them alight with a little spark of magic - but he was still feeling so very weak. Not to mention, there was still that guard, lurking quietly behind him, not even breathing.
He looked up. 
There was something familiar about the robot staring down at him. A scent, or the ears poking out from the mostly robotic head. Sort of canine… 
But he could barely remember a thing.
“Eyes on me now.” 
The Skuntank clicked his fingers, and Clayton’s attention snapped back to him obediently before his barely conscious mind could process the command.
“What…?” he said.
“Obviously, since you’ve been down there for who knows how long, we’ve got to recondition you to your new role.” 
The boss reached down under the table to scratch between his legs.
Clayton’s ears flicked and pricked upwards. He could hear something. A low suckling noise, with the odd wet slurp and gasp. The Skuntank could see he noticed.

“Oh, hope you don’t mind. That’s just my secretary.” 
The Skuntank stood up and pulled back as he stepped out from around the desk. The gasp from beneath the desk sounded strangely familiar to Clayton, and as soon as the orange-furred kitsune girl crawled into view, the Braixen’s stomach dropped.
The call of the floating pleasure suddenly felt very distant, as the memories of the failed infiltration attempt came rushing back.
“Uta…hime…?” Clayton groaned. 
“Oh, you know her?” The Skuntank had taken the visor in one hand, and reached down to roughly pet the drooling fox girl’s head with the other. The fur on her face was matted and clumped. Her eyes were spiralling with purple and green, and a mixture of drool and cum was dripping from the corner of her mouth. “Well, excellent. That’ll make the conditioning easier.”
“What’ve you done to my stepsister?!” Clayton felt a surge of anger and began to writhe and pull at his bonds, the swivel chair swinging around even as the robot behind him held it mostly still.
“Ohhh, that’s fun.” The Skuntank laughed. “Your stepsister? Well now, she’s my cockwarmer - Sorry, secretary.”
Utahime giggled, her cheeks bulging with - well, it was quite obvious what it was. She gulped it down quite loudly, sighing with pleasure.
“It’s fuuun…” Utahime slurred as she crawled alongside her skunk Pokemon master. “Really fun… do you wanna go too?”
“No?!” Clayton felt a fire inside him now. That well of magical energy inside him was starting to return to him. His eyes began to gleam and smoke started to seep from his nose as he snorted. “You’re gonna…l-let her go!”

The Skuntank’s rotund stomach was almost pressed to Clayton face as he loomed over the Braixen, totally unruffled. 
“I’ll let her go…” he said with a grin. “Go to town on you, that is.”
Before Clayton could respond, the Skuntank jammed the visor straight down onto his head, and his world became awash with spiralling colour.
It was a different feeling to the last trance he was in - he wasn’t floating this time - he was falling. Falling endlessly, an intense head-high experience like he was skydiving. Weighted inevitability rather than weightlessness, as he fell into the tunnel of purple and green before him. 
He had to… fight back…
Even though his cock was already standing at full mast once again, conditioned to obedience in spite of his resistance.
The spirals took up every ounce of his vision, shutting him off from the outside world. But he could still feel the Skuntank’s presence, his fat body looming over him, his scent wafting over him… a familiar scent, one he swore he remembered from the pod…
Wouldn’t it be nicer to go back to that place, that head space…?
“I’ve got some errands to run,” the boss said with a grunt. “Cocksleeve, help your step-brother’s conditioning.”
“Yes, Boss~!”

As the footsteps receded and a door slammed, Clayton felt the pressure of Utahime’s body clambering onto him.
There was not a hint of Utahime’s own familiar scents. She reeked of the Skuntank’s musk. She couldn’t kiss him, the bulky visor was in the way, but he could feel her lips on the screen… as her netherlips found their way to his cock. 
“Mmnh, Master doesn’t let me get fucked very often…” she moaned. “Don’t tell him, mm’kay?”
Clayton’s protests were cut off by a groan as she plunged onto him, wasting no time in getting into a ferociously pounding rhythm. She mustn’t have been lying. 
As she thrusted, it became harder for Clayton to tear his eyes away from the flashing screen, and the subliminal commands it was pouring into his head. The swivel chair rocked and tilted, constantly being course-corrected by the robot looming over them impassively. It was like he was being jostled on a roller coaster, with all the head rushes and shocks that came with it.
He couldn’t… keep his mind on straight. He couldn’t stop the pleasure from rushing into him through his eyes, and his cock. 
“You see..~” Utahime’s lips were at his ear as she clung tightly to him. “You see how much more fun it is being the Boss’ personal slut? Better than whatever boring thing you were doing before…”

Clayton remembered floating in bliss. He remembered the gooey pleasure. He remembered the comforting regularity of his climaxes, the milking… 
It seemed quaint in retrospect. Maybe even a little boring…
But this was alive, this was intense, full-bodied. Clayton was drooling in spite of himself, his magical resistance having long faded as his tongue unrolled and draped down one side of his mouth.
“Nnnhann..” he groaned pathetically, slumping as Utahime’s hips continued to slam and slap down onto his crotch.
“Don’t you wanna join me under the Boss’ desk?” Utahime purred. “You want to, yeah, I can tell, you mouth is drooling already thinking about that fat, juicy, tasty dick…”
“Nnndick…” Clayton was finding it hard to speak again. He was feeling that familiar trance fall over him again. She was right. He was drooling. He was sinking. He wanted to sink. He wanted to suck. It would be a far better way to Obey and Comply… it made sense. Perfect sense…
“Ahhhnngh…” Utahime bit down on his ear, and he yipped weakly as her walls clenched hard around him. It hadn’t taken long for her to get her satisfaction… Clayton was happy to help his fellow cockslut. As the opaque spirals pulsed and undulated in their endlessly captivating dance, she continued to buck on him.
“Boss won’t be back for a bit…” she growled. “So I’m gonna get my fill before I teach you all the best cockwarming technique. Sound good?”
Clayton could only stare into the spirals and groan in agreement.

He slipped into a deep fugue once again - this one more electrifying and deliciously vibrant than the last one. One that he didn’t want to leave.
It was good that he didn’t want to, of course. Because he never would.

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