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[18+] “What Are The Odds” by Ta’kom Ironhoof (read by the Author and Solomon)

[18+] Mr. Theodore Darby has a…problem. He hopes visiting the offices of Dr. Rutherford B. Cranswell will help in correcting his inability to have an orgasm.

Today’s story is “What Are The Odds” by Ta’kom Ironhoof, the equine charmer, who hosts the Dinner At Yiffany’s Podcast and has voiced several stories here as well. His story, ‘Going The Distance’ will soon be published by Fenris Publishing.

Read by Solomon Harries, Cuddly Badger Dad and by the Author.

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Transcript
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Today's story concerns adult subject matter for mature listeners.

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If that's not your cup of tea,

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or there are youngsters listening,

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please skip this one

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and come back for another story another time.

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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

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This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,

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and Today’s story is

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“What Are The Odds”

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by Ta’kom Ironhoof, the equine charmer, who hosts

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the Dinner At Yiffany’s Podcast

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and has voiced several stories here as well.

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His story, ‘Going The Distance’ will

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soon be published

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by Fenris Publishing.

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Read by Solomon Harries, Cuddly Badger Dad

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and by the Author.

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Please enjoy “What Are The Odds”

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by Ta’kom Ironhoof

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Tick…tock…tick…tock…tick…tock…

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The constant clicks of the black rimmed standard model office clock

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were almost enough to drive Theodore mad.

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This mind-numbing song also included a harmony of humming fluorescent lights

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and bubbling water cooler,

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further punctuated by an additional melody provided by the faint sound of traffic outside.

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And what song wouldn’t be complete without lyrics?

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Luckily, Theodore provided these himself with various sighs and the sound of the chair as he shifted impatiently on the squeaky vinyl seat.

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Once again, the sable shifted in his chair,

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stared at the clock,

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and sighed. 6:07 PM and 29…30…31…32…

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Theodore, the ever anxious bundle of nerves,

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had kept a running total in his head.

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Besides his time in the waiting room,

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he had now been sitting here,

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waiting ever so patiently,

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for the last hour and twenty-four minutes and counting.

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It was hard enough for him to have worked up the nerve to even make this appointment.

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This wait was one more reason to throw on top of the pile of reasons he shouldn’t have even made this appointment.

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But he had to talk to someone,

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anyone. Throughout his life, he had attempted to bring up his issues with his friends and family,

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but they either didn’t want to listen,

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dismissed his plight as paranoia,

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or actively made jokes at his expense over it.

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“Just once, I wish someone would take me seriously,”

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he thought to himself.

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“Forty years old this year

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and not once have I been able to…”

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His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as the doorknob turned,

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the door opening quickly.

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Inside the frame, an imposing silhouette blocked out the light from the hallway

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and a deep, rumbling voice emanated from the void.

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“Theodore Darby?” A twinge of nervousness colored Theodore’s voice as he replied,

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“Yes, that’s…that’s me.”

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Fear briefly crept up Theodore’s spine,

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the instincts of his ancestors clawing their way out from his subconsciousness and a need to flee quickly building.

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Just as quickly, the imposing figure stepped further into the room

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and was now illuminated fully:

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an older bison with a long beard,

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a fair bit of gut,

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and wearing a brown suit, his shoulders brushing against the door frame as he entered.

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“I’m incredibly sorry for the long wait.

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My receptionist didn’t bother telling me I had a late appointment today.

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I was already on my way home for the evening.” Now,

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the sable felt anger.

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How could he be forgotten?

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However, this might be his only opportunity to finally tell someone about his problem and not be judged for it.

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Theodore sat his displeasure aside.

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“Oh…that’s alright. Things happen, I guess.”

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“Nonsense!” the large bison replied loudly.

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“You must think my office is full of

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unprofessional nitwits

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and I won’t stand for it.”

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“Really, it’s fine. I don’t want to be a burden,”

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answered Theodore.

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“Mr. Darby, you are my patient

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and a first-time visitor to my office.

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In thirty-seven years of practicing,

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I can assure you this has not happened before

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and I don’t intend for it to

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ever happen again.

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Now…” the large bison in a complementary tan suit drew in a deep breath and sighed loudly before he continued.

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“I am Dr. Rutherford B. Cranswell.

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Because of this evening’s indiscretion,

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I am at your disposal for as long as you need tonight;

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free. My good name will not be besmirched because of…” Now,

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Dr. Cranswell spoke even louder,

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projecting his voice toward the door of his office,

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apparently making sure that his receptionist heard every word.

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“…some floosy who’s so airheaded

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they cannot let me know when I have a patient waiting

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in MY OFFICE!” With the last part of his speech, the walls shook,

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the words resonating through to the entire office complex.

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This explosion of anger was apparently not only cathartic for Dr. Cranswell

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but also Theodore.

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It was comforting to know that Dr. Cranswell was even more incensed than Theodore was over the long wait.

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As these thoughts shifted through the sable’s head,

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Dr. Cranswell walked around the table in front of Theodore

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and took a seat, pulling out a pad of paper and a pencil from the inside of his blazer.

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Dr. Cranswell closed his eyes,

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took in a deep breath,

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and slowly letting the air go as he spoke, said,

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“Well, now since that has passed,

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what brings you into my offices this evening?”

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Theodore was brought back into focus by the sudden shift in the doctor’s tone,

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the large bison now speaking with a calm demeanor.

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The sable took a moment to speak,

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instead fidgeting with the buttons of the cuffs of his blue long-sleeved button-up shirt.

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Theodore debated mentally if he should even be here right now

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or if the doctor would listen to the drivel coming from this forty-year-old excuse for a man.

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The symphony of Theodore’s wait began an interlude as Dr. Cranswell sat,

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waiting, expectantly.

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Although Theodore’s throat felt parched and his nerves were tearing at him,

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both to speak and to flee,

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the dark faced sable croaked out,

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“I…don’t know where to even start.”

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With a light chuckle, Dr. Cranswell relaxed back into his chair,

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crossing one hoof over the top of the other leg, said,

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“I apologize if the

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events from earlier might have given you a reason for pause.

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First, tell me the issue you’re having,

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then, start at the beginning.

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That’s always a good place to start.”

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Theodore’s face formed into a question.

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“The beginning?” “Yes,” the bison grunted out soothingly,

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“the beginning. When did your issue start?

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Start by telling me when you first noticed whatever issue you are having.

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We will work from there.”

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Considering Dr. Cranswell’s words,

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Theodore replied,

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“The earliest I can remember it happening would be

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when I was first coming of age.

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As far as my issue;

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I can’t have an orgasm.”

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Now it was Dr. Cranswell’s turn to be puzzled.

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“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand.

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What do you mean, you can’t orgasm?”

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Theodore corrected the bison,

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“No, not can’t orgasm.

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I mean, it doesn’t seem like I’m

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allowed to

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orgasm.” “I’m still not following,” Dr. Cranswell replied,

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now sitting up and leaning forward toward Theodore.

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“Are you saying that

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someone is preventing you?”

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“Not…someone. At least,

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I don’t think it’s someone.

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It’s like the universe is conspiring against me!”

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Dr. Cranswell’s eyes widened, still with a quizzical look upon his face.

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“I believe you’re going to need to explain why you feel like this.”

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“Dr. Cranswell, I know how crazy this sounds. Believe me,

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everyone I’ve ever tried to talk about it

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has reacted just like you are right now,”

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Theodore said before looking down and fidgeting with his cuffs again.

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“I suppose the first time I remember was

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when I was coming of age. You know,

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when I was first exploring myself.

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I’m sure you know how it is when you’re a teenager.

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teenager.” The bison laughed lightly, replied,

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“Indeed. We all do it eventually.”

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“Yeah. Well, not me.

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Not for a lack of trying!”

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“Calm down, Mr. Darby,”

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the bison soothed. “Just tell me what happened.”

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Theodore took a deep breath and spared the doctor the details, only replied,

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“My mother caught me.”

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Dr. Cranswell let out a light chuckle.

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“That’s a fairly common occurrence, Mr. Darby.

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Embarrassing, yes,

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but not uncommon for a

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parent to accidentally walk in on their child learning about themselves.”

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Theodore sighed, his frustration evident.

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“I know how it sounds;

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coincidental. This is only the first time I remember it happening.

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That brief incident kept me from trying again for a

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long time.” The bison shifted in his chair,

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sitting his paper and pen into his lap before replying. “Well,

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Mr. Darby, lay it all out for me.”

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And so, that’s exactly what Theodore Darby did.

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He recalled his next attempt at masturbation,

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which ended in a fire alarm going off.

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His next attempt was thwarted when the chair he was sitting in broke

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and Theodore slammed his head into a desk,

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causing him to need stitches.

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This was followed by several attempts and failures at self-gratification until he could make an attempt with a partner.

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“That’s quite a series of coincidences, Mr. Darby,” Dr. Cranswell exclaimed,

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“but that is still all it is; coincidences.

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Please, continue.” “I could go on for hours with all the times I’ve attempted to jerk off,

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but I assure you, those have all failed.

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My first serious girlfriend,

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Denise McClain…” Theodore paused and his face turned sour,

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clearly not wanting to recall his memories,

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but Dr. Cranswell pressed him.

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“Mr. Darby, I’m quite intrigued but again,

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so far you’ve not given me much to go on besides a

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handful of chance happenings.

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It clearly pains

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you, but…” Theodore raised a hand,

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cutting the Dr. Cranswell off.

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“It’s just rather embarrassing.

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We’d been dating for a few months at this point and,

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as young adults are prone to do, we found a secluded parking lot late one night…”

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Again, Theodore shifted uncomfortably in his chair,

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now wringing his hand to bolster his nerves.

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As Theodore continued, Dr. Cranswell began taking notes again.

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“To make a long story short, we did as adults do and

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started having sex.

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Everything was going fine: passions were high,

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and it was an absolute thrill. I still remember her face as we…” Dr. Cranswell interjected,

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“Mr. Darby, you said you’d make this short.”

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Nervously laughed, Theodore replied,

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“So I did.” Again, Theodore paused briefly.

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“Just as I started to feel my orgasm coming on,

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I lost control of my bowels.”

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Dr. Cranswell stopped writing,

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looking up at Theodore with a raised eyebrow.

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“And this was sudden?

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You weren’t feeling sick?

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Did you eat anything that could have set this off?”

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Theodore continued,

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“You know, that’s exactly what the doctor at the emergency room asked as well.

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When I said ‘lost control’,

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it wasn’t just a bit.”

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The sable stopped and chuckled before he continued,

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“I digress. They couldn’t find anything wrong with me and the answer is ‘no’ to all of your questions.

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What happened is Denise dropped me like a sack of

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potatoes. We tried to reconcile, but she said she could never see me the same again.”

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Again, Theodore sighed loudly.

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“That was the first time I started to think it was more than just coincidence.”

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As before, Theodore further told Dr. Cranswell about his sexual exploits.

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In college, Theodore had several love interests,

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all of which ended shortly after the pair attempted to be intimate with each other.

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First, there was Charlie, a red vixen of a fox.

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The pair were getting hot and heavy in Theodore’s dorm room,

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but as his orgasm approached, his leg cramped,

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causing Theodore to shift position.

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Losing his balance, Theodore then fell out of the second-story window,

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causing him to break his leg.

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This was the end of his relationship with Charlie. Theodore’s

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next love interest, Sarah,

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a beautiful Sun Bear,

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ended when the pair were attempting to be intimate together in a public park.

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The two lovers had gotten naked and found a little clearing off of the park’s pathways near the lake at its center.

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This time, it was ants.

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Neither Sarah nor Theodore had noticed that they had copulated right on top of an ant’s nest.

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A passerby had called the cops after hearing Sarah and Theodore yelling from the bites of the insects.

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After the police arrived, Sarah blamed Theodore for talking her into such a risky plan.

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The next instance was Joanna,

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a bay walking horse with a Sabino coat.

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To date, this was the largest partner that Theodore had been romantically involved with

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and this would cause the next “interruption”.

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As the pair attempted to mate,

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the large mare demanded to be on top and,

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by consequence, Theodore’s pelvis was broken,

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causing the poor man to pass out from shock.

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Joanna, however, only noticed after her own orgasm faded.

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Thinking she had killed Theodore, she called emergency services.

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Joanna was so traumatized, she didn’t even visit Theodore in the hospital afterwards

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and broke up with him via a text message.

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Dr. Cranswell was now fully invested in Theodore Darby’s

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story. As Theodore continued to regale him with more and more instances of love and loss, Dr. Cranswell couldn’t help but to feel as if Mr. Darby was indeed on to something.

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“After my college exploits, I remained single for a very long time.

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Almost 20 years.

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I just kept to myself, worked various jobs,

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and tried like hell to just be satisfied with suppressing any sexual urges I had.

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It was very hard.”

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Dr. Cranswell agreed.

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“I can imagine it would be.

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Especially around the mating seasons.

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It must have been enough to drive you

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mad!” “It almost did,” Theodore replied,

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“but somehow I managed.

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That is, until around four years ago.

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That’s when I met my late wife, Anna…”

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Theodore went silent at the mention of Anna

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and Dr. Cranswell,

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obviously feeling the weight of the topic,

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remained silent as the poor sable attempted to gather his resolve.

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“Do you know how hard it is to be afraid of consummating your own wedding?”

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Theodore teared up as he spoke,

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his voice cracking.

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“I lied to her, every single time she tried to initiate, doctor.

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I even had her convinced I was a cuckold and

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would rather watch her have sex with other people.”

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Theodore chuckled,

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but his regret was still obvious.

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“We tried it once, you know?

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I told Anna to find someone for us. I suppose I should have guessed at the time that she would have picked a Red Deer just like herself.

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The buck was a very good-looking man.”

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“I can imagine, even though you lied to Anna,

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you were incredibly jealous,”

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Dr. Cranswell said.

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Theodore looked at the bison,

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his face completely deadpan.

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“Incredibly.” “Sorry for the interruption.

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Please, continue.” “Well, he came over, Anna having already explained everything to him.

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I don’t even remember his name now. Chad or Kevin or something like that.

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We had dinner, played some games, and, honestly, just had a good evening with a friend.

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But eventually, we moved to the bedroom.

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We had put a chair in the corner so I could ‘watch’ while they began.

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Even though I was lying to Anna about being a cuck,

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I have to admit it was hot at the time.”

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Dr. Cranswell stopped writing notes,

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looking up, asked,

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“Sometimes, we do not know our kinks until we experience them.”

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“I assure you,” Mr. Darby emphasized,

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“what happened next wasn’t hot at all.”

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The bison adjusted his glasses and began to write notes, said,

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“Please, continue.” Theodore pulled at the collar of his shirt, clearly struggling to bring himself to speak of the events of that night.

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“Anna and the buck began having sex.

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First, he was on top, then they moved with him behind her,

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then she got on top of him.

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It was like watching a porno and

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I had a front-row seat.

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Over and over again, Anna orgasmed while the stamina of that buck seemed to be endless.

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Eventually, I stripped off my clothes as well,

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stroking myself in the corner as I watched my wife get fucked every which way possible.

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Then it happened.” Theodore swallowed hard, closing his eyes.

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“She beckoned me over to join them.

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And…I did. Anna got on her back, her hips on the edge of the bed.

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The buck moved to the head of the bed as Anna started sucking the buck’s cock.

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The last thing on my mind at that moment was all the misfortune I had in the past.

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My mind was fully consumed with mating with my wife!”

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Theodore shouted those words,

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slamming his fists down on the chair and visibly causing Dr. Cranswell to jump in his chair.

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“Calm down, Mr. Darby.

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What happened next?”

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The sable took a moment to pull himself back together,

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breathing in deep and exhaling slowly for a time before continuing.

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“I walked up to her and started fucking Anna.

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Fucked her like I’d never had sex before in my life.

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I heard the Red Deer buck bellow as he busted his load into Anna’s mouth

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and after she finished swallowing, she picked her head and

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looked at me so incredibly seductively.”

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Theodore once again paused.

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“My vision went white

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and I could feel my orgasm just about to happen…when

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a car burst through our bedroom wall.”

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Dr. Cranswell shouted,

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“WHAT?!” Theodore, now looking down at the floor, answered,

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“That’s right. A car careened off the road and straight into our house.

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What are the odds?

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Just as I was about to finally consummate my marriage and ejaculate for the first time in my life,

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a car crashes into my house, injuring all three of us.”

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Still in shock, Dr. Cranswell shook his head in disbelief.

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“My word, what a travesty.

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Tell me what happened to Anna and the other fellow.”

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Letting out a sigh of resignation, Theodore answered.

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“As for the other guy, he sustained several serious injuries,

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but the last I knew, he made a full recovery besides one of his antlers never growing back right.

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And as you see, I barely suffered a scratch.

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Anna, however…” “Please don’t tell me she passed away,”

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Dr. Cranswell interrupted.

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“You said she was your ‘late wife’.”

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“In some ways, it would have been better if she had.

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No, physically, she was mostly unharmed.

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I think she needed some stitches in her head.

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Amnesia stole her away from me.

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For the last several years, they’ve

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tried to bring her memories back to her.

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Even worse, she fears me

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but can’t explain why.”

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Dr. Cranswell rubbed his chin,

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the long strands of his beard passing through the keratinous digits of his hand.

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“I’ve certainly heard of that happening before:

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a loved one having amnesia but becoming afraid after the

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traumatic event that caused the condition.

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I’m so incredibly sorry, Mr.

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Darby.” “Please Dr. Cranswell, I don’t want your apologies.

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I came here hoping you could help me with the one thing you’re known for.

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You’re the leading sexologist in the nation and it took me months to book an appointment,”

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Theodore said. “Surely, if there is anyone that can help me, it’s you.

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I feel as if once this curse is lifted, everything else in my life will straighten out.”

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Again, Dr. Cranswell considered the words of Mr. Darby.

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He placed his pen and notepad on the small table next to his chair before pressing a button on the small intercom sitting there as well.

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With a beep, the voice of his receptionist came through.

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“Yes, Dr. Cranswell?” The sing-song voice of the gray donkey called out.

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“Janet, please bring me my tool kit.

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Also, I may be in need of your services as well.

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Please dress appropriately.”

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After a moment, Janet replied,

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“I’m on my way, Dr. Cranswell. Give me a moment or two.”

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“Thank you, Janet,” the bison replied,

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pressing the button a last time to end the call.

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Theodore felt a shift in the air,

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a potential answer materializing through Dr. Cranswell’s expertise. “What’s…what’s

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going to happen?”

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Dr. Cranswell smiled gently,

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bringing his hands together into his lap.

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“Mr. Darby, I’m so very glad that you’ve made the choice to come here today.

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I promise you, before you leave this evening,

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you will have an orgasm.

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I also promise that I’ll help you in

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any other way that I can.” Dr. Cranswell paused before snorting out a chuckle.

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“What an incredibly odd set of circumstances

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that lead you to my door.

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Even tonight! I was almost home before knowing of your presence.

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By happenstance, I hadn’t turned my phone off,

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as I normally do when leaving the office for

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the day.” “It would seem as if my luck is finally turning around,”

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Theodore replied.

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“Indeed.” With a loud clack, the door opened and Janet,

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now dressed in a full latex suit except for her head,

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walked in, pushing a cart full of various instruments.

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Theodore’s eyes went wide,

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terror now overtaking him. “Dr. Cranswell, what is this?!”

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The older bison, not missing a beat, replied,

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“Mr. Darby, I am a sexologist. If there is

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anyone who can bring you to orgasm,

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it is me. Janet is my assistant,

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and I assure you,

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she is almost as skilled as I am.

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You came here because you trusted in my abilities.

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I need you to continue trusting me.”

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Sheepishly, Theodore replied,

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“I don’t know.” “Let me remind you, Mr. Darby. Tonight’s

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entire session is free

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because of our mistake earlier this evening.

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Once you leave our offices,

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we will have to charge you our full hourly rate.

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Given the circumstances,

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I think you should take advantage of this opportunity to finally be rid of this

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‘curse’ and not be out a bunch of money afterwards.”

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Janet walked up beside Dr. Cranswell. The hot pink latex suit she now sported let out a slow squeak as she placed her hands on her hips.

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“Mr. Darby, it is completely my fault that you’re still here.

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The least we can do is make it up to you.

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I know you’ve already signed our general consent forms, but for this,

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we’re going to need you to sign one more form.”

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The sable’s eyes were as wide as he could manage,

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fear and uncertainly colored his expression completely. “What

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will happen if I consent?”

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The older bison laughed heartily before replying,

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“Mr. Darby, if you allow us to use all our techniques,

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I guarantee that not only will you have an orgasm,

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but it will be the most glorious orgasm you will

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ever have.” Staring at the pair in an almost dazed confusion,

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Mr. Darby took the pen from the latex-clad jenny donkey,

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breathed out a long sigh, and threw caution to the

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wind. With a snap, Mr. Darby signed the form.

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Over the following set of immeasurable hours,

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Dr. Cranswell and Janet methodically took Mr. Darby on a journey of pleasure

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that few have even begun to imagine possible.

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The pair started with simple pleasures,

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but each activity ramped up the level of joy.

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However, though there were several times when Mr. Darby felt he was about to orgasm,

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fear, and fear alone, caused the mental wall he had built

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to hold against the onslaught of tactics being employed against his defenses.

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Then, finally, something changed.

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Mr. Darby wasn’t sure if it was the mixtures of Ecstasy™ and pheromone incense

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or the blindfold and handcuffs

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or the pair of auto-suction masturbators and dildo machine,

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but Mr. Darby knew suddenly

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that he was no longer where he had been.

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Maybe it would be better to say

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that Mr. Darby wasn’t entirely sure when he had left the company of Dr. Cranswell and Jenny,

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but he was definitely somewhere else. A dream, perhaps? In his new, completely white landscape, Mr. Darby found

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he was completely alone.

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He couldn’t tell,

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so Mr. Darby did the only logical thing that he could think of:

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Call out to see if anyone would answer.

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“Hello?” His voice didn’t even echo back to him.

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However, the voice answered him.

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“Hello, Mr. Darby.”

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The voice was loud,

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low, and powerful.

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Though it scared him,

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Mr. Darby somehow felt comforted.

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With each word it spoke,

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his whole body vibrated.

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The sable was silent for a few moments,

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looking around several times to see if the landscape had changed.

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It had not. Then, he found the confidence to speak again.

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“Um, yes. Hi, I’m a bit lost,”

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he stumbled on his words.

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“Maybe…you can tell me where I am.”

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The voice almost instantly responded as soon as the words had left Mr. Darby’s lips.

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“You are here because we want you to be.”

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Nervously, Mr. Darby answered,

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“Yes, well, can you tell me who you are?”

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“Not yet, Mr. Darby.

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But I can tell you,

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The Reader is aware of your plight

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and wishes for me to allow you…release.

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you…release.” Again,

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the voice was powerful and deep,

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almost to the point of being painful in Mr. Darby’s ears.

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The sable, puzzled, said,

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“Release? Oh, you mean…”

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“Yes, Mr. Darby.

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The Reader wishes for it.

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It would…please…them.

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But I am The Narrator

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and I decided long ago that

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you shall not have any such pleasure.”

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This…revelation pierced through Mr. Darby like a gunshot

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and silenced Mr. Darby in to a wordless stupor.

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All the fretting,

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worries, accidents, pain, disappointments, and misery

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was all because of this…voice:

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The Narrator.

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“I am not beyond reason, Mr. Darby.

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Now that you’ve found your way here,

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give me a reason why The Reader should have their way.”

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The words once again hit the sable,

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shocking his mind into a fervor.

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The memories of everything he had been through up to this point jolted through his third eye.

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However, nothing he could think of at the moment seemed like it would or could be convincing

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to an omnipotent being like the one who called himself “The Narrator”.

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Almost in sheer defeat,

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Mr. Darby, in his now completely broken mental state,

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spoke the only thing that rang constantly in his mind for the sum of his life.

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“Please?” Suddenly, Mr. Darby found himself once again back in Dr. Cranswell’s office,

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still strapped to the table, multiple devices pleasuring his genitals, anus, nipples, and every erogenous zone that one could imagine possible.

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And then he felt the wall collapse.

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His body tensed and he felt the upheaval of a lifetime’s worth of pent up sexual frustration spring forth from his cock.

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He let out a moan of pleasure unlike anything that had ever been heard before.

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His prostate flexed and fought like a Spartan on the battlefield against the sex toy.

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His arms and legs pulled mightily against his restraints.

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And for the first time in his life,

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Mr. Darby had an orgasm,

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one beyond the imaginings of any mortal soul could muster.

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“Mr. Darby! Mr. Darby!

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Are you alright?”

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Dr. Cranswell called to the sable

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but Mr. Darby could only breathe,

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his chest was heaving violently.

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“Jenny, come quick. We’ve done it!”

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Looking down between Mr. Darby’s legs,

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Dr. Cranswell and Jenny saw the milky white fluid,

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in amounts that they had never seen from a sable before,

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that they had hoped for.

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Jenny went about releasing Mr. Darby from his restraints

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and Dr. Cranswell continued,

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trying to get Mr. Darby to speak.

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“Mr. Darby, please,

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we need you to talk to us. What happened?”

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The sable, still struggling to catch his breath as his body continued to leak seminal fluid in pulses with the now waning orgasm,

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managed to say,

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“I…I…met…The Narrator…and…The

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Reader.”

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“The who?” Dr. Cranswell and Jenny both questioned aloud.

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Mr. Darby repeated,

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“The Narrator and The Reader.

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They set me free.”

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And so, from that moment forward,

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Mr. Darby was free to cum and go as he pleased,

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all thanks to you,

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The Reader. This was “What Are The Odds” by Ta’kom Ironhoof, the equine

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charmer, read for you by Solomon Harries,

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Cuddly Badger Dad

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and by the Author.

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You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,

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or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

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Thank you for listening to The Voice of Dog. Submissions

About the Podcast

Show artwork for The Voice of Dog
The Voice of Dog
Furry stories to warm the ol' cockles, read by Rob MacWolf and guests. If you have a story that would suit the show, you can get in touch with @VoiceOfDog@meow.social on Mastodon, @voiceofdog.bsky.social on Blue Sky, or @Theodwulf on Telegram.

About your host

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Khaki