Character Creation Ch. 06

"Um, what? So I need to bring wild animals in here? We're not even allowed to have pets in the building, much less something feral."

"Well no, that's the weird part. They're just bugs, after all, and they can be fooled by posturing, imitation, that kind of thing. You know, like hunters do with a turkey call?"

"So, I'm supposed to imitate... what, exactly?"

"Wild dogs."

"You want me to... act like a dog?"

"I don't want you to do anything, Katrina – you asked for my professional opinion, and I gave it to you."

"But... no. I mean... that's crazy, right? Is that really the only thing there is to do?"

"Well, it's the only thing I've found so far... I have something else I'm working on, but it's far from ready. For now, it's this or nothing. Sorry to have wasted your time."

Rob made for the door, but I cut him off. "Hold on. Just so... just so I'm clear. If I want to stop them from spreading, I have to... act like a dog?"

He nodded. "Not all the time. A few times a day, for maybe twenty, thirty minutes would do it. More would be better, but even that would at least halt their spread."

"So, if I did this... do I just... crawl around?" I frowned. It was ridiculous, but still.

"Sure. I mean, it's not really such a big deal – good for the back, and maybe the silliness of it would help alleviate the stress, you know? C'mon, what could it hurt? I could give you a few pointers maybe."

I considered. It would be mortifying, but then, what choice did I have? Tentatively, I slunk down to my knees, then to a crawling position. "There you go," Rob said. "The trick is just to believe in the role. Like an actress, right? The more you can just let yourself act like your character, the better it will work on them."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"For starters, don't talk – dead give-away to them." I closed my mouth. That made sense. "Now, try barking."

I gritted my teeth indignantly, but well, if there we going to be any point to this, he was right. "Arf!" I yipped. "Arf! Arf!"

He patted my head; I glared, but then he reminded me dogs warmed to affection. So instead, I wagged my ass for him. Just a little.

Little by little, I slipped into the role. For the next twenty minutes, I let him pet my head and back, curled up beside him on my couch, played fetch with a rolled-up magazine... it was the most humiliating thing I'd ever done. Yet at the end, he got out his phone and checked an app that told him it had worked! "The growth rate just went from 1.3% to negative 0.2 percent!"

I beamed, craning my neck to get a look at the app for myself. Instead, Rob quickly put it back in his pocket. "Wouldn't ya know it, the battery just died. Of all the luck. Still, there's your proof."

"Well, I guess I can give it a try. Just a few times a day, you said? I guess I could do that."

"Sure, and I'd be happy to come by and help occasionally."

Ugh, I'm sure you would. "No thanks, I think I can manage on my own."

He promised to check in with me if he learned anything new, and once again, I was on my own, just me against a seemingly endless swarm of bugbears. That whole week, I did my part – I barked and growled and snarled and yipped and wagged and scampered. I even got a pair of knee pads, so I didn't have to worry about showing up to the shoot with bruises.

I tried to make little games I would play to help pass the time at it, or at least put in my headphones and cheat a little with some music. Once, I even got a little wild and humped the arm of my sofa. Still, even with no one but me and the bugbears to witness it – oh, and Rob's sensors, but they didn't count – that still felt a bit much.

Rob became a regular fixture in my apartment, popping in by evening to check in on me. He always had good news for me, just not nearly enough of it. An entire week passed with only around an eight percent reduction. I got better results when Rob played doggy with me; I guess he just made it more real for the bugbears seeing me petted and patted. I'd roll on my back and he'd rub my belly while my leg twitched.

(That last one was my idea; I got tired of him suggesting things to me so I just forced it on him. Selfish, maybe, but I didn't like the idea of letting him just control me.)

Still, eight percent was nowhere near a hundred, and a hundred was what I needed. Rob let an occasional reference slip to his personal investigations, and finally, with only a week to go before the shoot, I finally pressed him. I knew he was gay, but still, I thought maybe if I did a little pleading while kneeling naked on the floor in front of him, it might help.

It did.

"All right, all right," he said, pulling my grip off of his pants. Pants! I hadn't been able to wear pants in what felt like years. "It's not a sure thing – experimental, to say the least, but... well, not to be too scientific, but I think I've isolated an organic compound that can temporarily innoculate someone."

"Innocu... Look, I'm not a scientist here. What does all that mean?"

"Make you immune. It won't kill them, but I think it would at least stop the rash."

"What! You could stop the rash and you didn't tell me!"

"It's not so simple. Like I said, it's an organic compound, and I'm not certain... You see, it's... well, I'll just come out and say it. It's contained in my semen."

"Semen?! You've got to be joking!" Rob shook his head; I should've known by now that even the most implausible thing he said was meant in total seriousness. "Well what the hell good does that do me? I'm fresh out of jizz in here, ya know!"

"Well, it's not just 'jizz,'" he explained. "You see, it's mine, specifically. The whole process is all very technical – you see, I recognized that the thaco present in male ejaculate contains high levels of wyvern extract, and as an experiment I've been imbibing a good deal of geas, a chemical which... well, look, it doesn't matter. Point is, I've been using my body as an experimentational base, to help you."

"But how does you having... medicinal jizz, or whatever, help me with my problem? Your apartment's already clear."

He eyed me levelly, and in the looming silence, I at last realized what he'd meant. "You want me to drink your...!"

"No, actually – I've said before, I'm not attracted to women, so the prospect actually holds no pleasure for me. That being said, I consider myself a good neighbor, and I guess over the past week we've sort of become friends, haven't we?"

"Yeah, I guess." Sort of. He wasn't horrible company, and it was nice being able to sit around with a man who wasn't thinking about fucking me every single second, even when I was naked and crawling around on all fours, barking and wagging and playing fetch and being petted. Still, he'd seen me doing things so embarrassing I'd never be able to risk letting him meet any of my other friends, even if he wasn't just an exterminator.

"So there. I can't promise it will work, but... well, if you want to try it, we can try it. It's entirely up to you. Personally I'm a little uncomfortable with it, but I don't have my whole life and future riding on this one decision."

I took a moment, but in the end... there was nothing else to do. "Fine," I finally mumbled. "Fine. Get me a... sample, or whatever you call it, and I'll... take it."

He paused. "Oh. Um, yeah, I can't just make it on my own. It... hmm. Let's see here. Aha, that's it – it weakens upon exposure to the air. Yep, anything more than a few seconds exposure and it's all for nothing. Not sure if it's the temperature or the oxygen or what, but... yep, gotta be good and fresh."

For a moment, it sounded like he'd been making things up as he went along, but that didn't make any sense. For some reason. Did it? Either way. "I was afraid you were going to say that. Well... how soon can we... can I...?"

"We can start now, if you want – I've been taking my treatments, so I'm as ready as I'm going to get. Only... well, remember how I said I'm not into chicks?" Did he chuckle? It sounded like he chuckled at that for a second. "Well, I just want to warn you in advance, it may take some serious effort on your part to get me off."

"I'm not doing this to get you off! I'm doing this to take care of all the bugbears!"

"See? That's what I mean – I feel like I forced you into this. If I'm going to be able to help you, I have to feel like you really want it. Desperately, even, you know? To help me get past my, um, disinterest. Otherwise, I don't know if I can help."

"Really?" I whined. I hadn't given a guy a blowjob since my sophomore year of high school, and that had been to get the hottest guy in school to break up with his girlfriend. Well, and a couple times professionally, but that was just how the game was played. Now, to have to perform like a whore for my fucking exterminator...!

He evidently saw my dislike of the suggestion, and rose to his feet to go. "You're right, Katrina – never mind this. We'll find some other way. Eventually. You know, I'm actually really impressed by you, kneeling there telling the world you're more than just some sexy little cock-sucker. You have your pride! That's worth way more than any career."

The hell it was!

"Wait," I said, grabbing his hips as he stood up. It was time to commit. "No, we're doing this. I need it. I need your fucking cock, Rob."

He let me pull him back down onto the sofa. "Go on."

I braced myself for a little acting – but then, it was easier acting like a horny slut than it was a dog, I guess. "C'mon. I know I'm not your usual type, but think of it this way – you're about to get your dick sucked by a super model. You'll have bragging rights for the rest of your life. You gotta admit I'm at least a little hot, right? I mean, look at these tits." I cupped my breasts for him, and was pleased to see he seemed at least a bit interested. A lot interested, I would guess, if I didn't know better.

I gave my lips a slow, sensual lick. They'd always been one of my best features, I'd been told. "Come on, aren't you a little curious what these soft, full lips will feel like wrapped around Mr. Happy?" I nuzzled into his crotch, and found a raging hard-on his loose pants had been concealing. "Yeah, looks like you're good and ready for me, aren't you."

I started undoing his fly, but he moved my hands away. To my frown, he said only, "use your teeth."

Man, was that tricky. The things I did for my career! Still, soon enough I'd gotten his pants off, then he let me tug down his underwear with my teeth. All my training as a dog using her teeth instead of her hands was coming in useful, funnily enough. There it was, a reasonably impressive cock, red and ready for me. Weirdly, even though I was sucking off my working-class neighbor like a garden variety slut, I still felt proud of myself for being able to get him hard. I leaned in to get to work.

Then he stopped me with his index finger on my forehead. "Ask me for permission."

I eyed him for just a moment, but all it took was the tiniest movement that threatened to take his medicine from me for me to give in. Think of it as just another role to play, I told myself. "Rob? Can I suck your cock now?"

"Sir. Be respectful, Katrina."

Seriously...?!

"Please, sir? Please, may I suck you off? Your cock just looks so fucking good, I can't resist it. I know I'm not what you want, but I'd be SO grateful if you'd just let me wrap my lips around–"

He grabbed my ears and pulled me face-first into his dick. What a son of a bitch! If any other guy did that to me... but it was Rob, and he'd never been anything but helpful, even letting me blow him, no matter how uncomfortable he was. He was even helpful enough to give me pointers while I sucked him off – how to use my tongue, when to deep throat him, when to pull back and help him keep his excitement up with a little more pleading.

"You know, maybe I was wrong, Katrina – maybe you are a sexy little cock-sucker," he said. I wanted to protest that no, I was a stong, affluent, independent woman, highly successful in an incredibly stressful and demanding field, and I was only sucking dick to protect my livelihood. Only...

Then he was cumming in my mouth.

My cheeks bulged with a massive load of his hot, salty medicine, and I swallowed desperately, fearful that it might go bad before I could get it inside me. Unpracticed as I was, I let him out of my mouth before he was quite done and he gave a couple extra spurts on my breasts. I looked up at him questioningly – should I bother?.

"Go on, eat my cum off your tits, Katrina," he said. I don't know why he had to be so crude about it, but if he thought it was still fresh enough, I wasn't dumb enough to waste an opportunity to immunize myself.

When I'd scooped every trace I could into my greedy lips and sucked my fingers clean, I plopped myself down onto the couch beside him. "So, I'm going to be OK now? No more worrying about the bugbears?"

He smiled, putting an arm around my shoulder comfortingly. "Yeah, you just bought yourself at least twenty-four hours, I'd say. Good work there."

"Twenty-four...! You said I would be immune!"

"Yeah, like you popped one tylenol and never had another headache? Think, Katrina, geez," he said irritably. "You'll still need to do your exercises to keep the breeding down, and I'll of course still need to monitor you by the sensors, but you should start to clear up soon, and if you keep a regular dosage, I think you just might be OK."

"You want me to suck your cock. Every day."

"Not at all," he said to my tits. Why is this queer so interested in my boobs? I know for a fact they're not misshapen. "But if you want to see this through, that'd be my recommendation. As a good neighbor, I'll try my best to give you a chance to drink my cum every day."

"I... thank you, I guess. You're sure you're OK with this, though? No offense, but I don't want to commit to this and have you flake out on me or get cold feet."

He smiled – smugly, I thought, only that didn't make sense. "You know, that's a good point. I tell you what, as long as you swear you'll do your best to turn me on, try to be as sexy and eager as possible to keep me interested... I'll let you swallow my cum every day."

I smiled. "I'm a lingerie model, you know. I think I know a few things about being as sexy as possible, Rob."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Turns out, he was a hard one to please. My shoot was in eight days. Every evening of the intervening week, he stopped by my apartment, and every evening, I sucked him off. He didn't make it easy for me, that's for sure. There was always some begging first, playing the part of a cum-thirsty slut who'd do anything for her dose.

He had me model for him, too, bringing in EPA-approved outfits that wouldn't spread the bugbears. Bikinis, bras and panties, even a few costumes over the next few days, like the sexy schoolgirl and a ditzy cheerleader. (I was pretty surprised the government would make such sexualized outfits, but he pointed out that the person who designed them had a fashion degree, obviously, so... yeah, I guess it figured they'd try to make it fun.)

He loaned them to me, in case I felt like wearing them sometimes, but honestly, I'd gotten used to the nudity, and the outfits were objectively humiliating. Pleading with my neighbor to be allowed to swallow his jizz was one thing, but I still had my dignity.

On the fourth day, Rob just walked in the door – I'd had a spare key made for him, so he could install or modify equipment if I wasn't around – and didn't say a word before he pushed me to my knees and told me to blow him like my life depended on it – which I did. It was actually kind of hot, if you want to know the truth, since it was just harmless role play. (If he was just some man coming into my apartment to actually just take a blowjob from me at his whim, that'd be another thing!)

Day five, he came in while I was doing my breeding-reduction exercises, and he gave me a collar to wear with a jingly little tag on it and all. (I later noticed the tag said Kat, which was pretty funny, when I thought about it.) He played at "training" me – which would have been way out of line if he hadn't pointed out how much more effective the exercises had been when he helped out. With that in mind, I let him "teach" me how to sit, stay, speak, heel, and – of course – beg.

I teased that he liked having his little power trip over me – even if it was purely platonic – and he said I was a bad girl for questioning him, then pulled me over his lap and actually fucking spanked me like a bratty child.

I protested, of course, but he explained how guys like him were big-time into butts, and seeing as how I had such a nice one, it'd be the only way he thought he could even get it up for me that night. What choice did I have? I submitted docilely and laid there across his lap, whimpering as he smacked my bare butt over and over until he just threw me off and mounted my face, fucking my mouth like a man possessed.

After that, I did my best to show off my ass to him.

On the sixth day, he came over with great news – the infestation was down by more than half, and there was only one area left on my body that still had any significant outbreak. My breasts. Evidently, something in my biochemistry was just making them resist his treatments, so he offered to try something new – direct application. He'd created a cream, one he thought would help his cum absorb "transcutaneously," which apparently meant through the skin or something.

First, he gave me my regular dose – he spanked me first to get himself excited again, but I begged him to go easy on me so my butt didn't have welts for the shoot. Rob, always a sweetheart, agreed without much fuss. Then he gave me my blowjob – or I gave him one, or whatever it technically was – just to make sure I didn't get a resurgence elsewhere.

With that done, it was time to fuck my tits. I'd never let a guy do that before – had in fact sworn I never would, never let someone use my body that way. Something about it had always seemed so degrading to me, you know?

Yet as Rob explained it to me, how lucky I was that my body was made in such a way to receive this kind of medical treatment, how hard it would be for him to be aroused by the thought of sticking his cock between some super model's boobs and letting her jack him off with them, why I'd have to actually use my tits and not just get him close with my mouth and then have him cum on my body instead...

As always, it made sense. I wondered more and more how I would ever have figured any of this out without him.

So titty-fuck him I did, all the while oohing and aahing, lying about how awesome it felt, fawning over how lucky I was to have someone like Rob around to fuck "my big slut titties" (as he wanted mt to call them)... and finally, lucky me, he came! I rubbed his cum around all over them, careful to let it dry on there.

The seventh day... well, I'll admit that I was actually getting pretty insanely horny by then. Even if I was only getting Rob off and he wasn't doing anything in return for me, daily private modelings and eager blowjobs and tit-fucks and spankings and all that had worn me down a bit. There were guys I could invite over to screw, sure, but I was really self-conscious about my "invisible" rash, and besides... Rob had hinted the night before that I was actually decent enough that he had started to think he might be just a little bit bi.

So when Rob came over the next night, I had a condom ready, just in case I could coax him into doing something a little more reciprocal. I could always drink out of it after, for my last innoculation.

(Part of me felt a little guilty for trying to seduce him, taking advantage of him when he'd already done so much for me.)