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Breeding Season: The Making of a Kingpin	By : Cokemonster Category: +A through F > Breeding Season Views: 7479 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Breeding Season, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author’s Notes:
I am really torn between including chapter tags. It spoils the fun of having to guess what’s to come, but I’m sure not everyone is going to be up for some things. Especially for what is to come later. No. I’ll think of you guys as smart people who will know what to skip and what to expect. I mean come on. It’s Breeding Season. This shit I’m writing is like vanilla normie porn compared to the crazy stuff in there.
1
(Abide by Imperial law. Don’t fuck animals.)
Joey licked his lips and grunted. He fiddled with it without the protection of gloves, which made it all the more easier to shift the smaller details into place. The intricate mechanisms at play were in dire need of some well placed lube, but they molded at his expert touch. Perhaps he’d pick some up along with the assortment of tools he would need to replace. All of it wouldn’t be cheap, so why not add a bottle of lube for daily use to the pile of debt he was about to carry?
“Phew!” Joey exhaled, patting the hinges that hung tightly against the splintered door frame. The door to his home away from home was now skewed from last night’s debauchery. Raimey did not help with the screwing in of the still usable hinges, or with the placement of the slab of lumber back upon its rightful throne. It was a good thing he had a spare mallet lying around, lest he and now their dirty secret be open to view of the neighbors. No, he’d rather drape the bedsheets over the frame if it ever came to that. Even if they were stained damp with the pussy juice of Chaos Spawn.
Joey wiped his brow and threw the mallet back in the closet. He came into the living area, assessing the situation now that he had just gotten something productive done. Finishing a job never failed to clear his head.
The catgirl (I need a shorter name for this thing…) had grown very comfortable in Raimey’s presence, which was not reciprocated. She lay outstretched on his bed, her feet dangling off the end. He hadn’t the time to notice until now how tall she actually was. That, or she had grown some overnight, which was too ridiculous to even humor. Slumber had befallen the catgirl somewhere in the middle of his and Raimey’s “discussion”, and it didn’t look like she was awaking from it any time soon. She wasn’t using the blanket properly, and her features waist-up were on full display.
Raimey was still on the couch, one hand propping her sharp jaw that held a line of resentment pointed right at him. The scowl was appropriate, Joey had to lament that fact. They had slept all of two hours since her arrival, and it showed in the bags under her eyes. He knew he must look three times as sickly, but he strangely felt no fatigue of the physical kind. He actually felt rather preppy, full of energy and what not. Having been so lively, he had gone and fixed breakfast and the door before the morning sun had the chance to peek over the horizon and begin to lighten yesterday’s horrid night.
Raimey didn’t share this enthusiasm.
“What the fuck, Joey.” She groaned. It was about the dozenth time that night… morning. In the past 8 hours anyways. It was a phrase he had grown accustomed to hearing, not just on this night, but well before it back when they had first began working together.
“I get it.” Joey sighed, straining the et in get. He feared another repeat of the exact same argument was unfolding. He was right to do so, as for whatever reason Raimey loved rubbing his nose in his mistakes like a dog in its own shit.
“I don’t think you do. I really don’t.” She said, her earrings faintly tinkling as she shook her head in disappointment. “You’ve gotta full sized bomb here ready to blow. People catch with it; you can kiss your ass goodbye and say the same, because you’d never be able to come back to this town.”
Joey smiled weakly. He grabbed an extra slice of toast melded with cheap butter and collapsed into the table seat. It still felt sticky under him, even having gone through a laborious scrubbing with his cleanliest set of rags.
“I. Get. It.” He repeated in muffled common. He took a few more bites and swallowed them each down harshly. “Gah—Look. I already gave you my story. I did what I did, one thing led to another… aaaand I’m in over my head.”
“Worst understatement I heard all my life.” She casted her leer to the monster as it slept. At first, it was filled with the same exasperated anger that had been cast on him. Then, it went on for some odd seconds, and Raimey was all of a sudden very silent whilst she gazed upon the creature.
Joey couldn’t help but squint. He didn’t have to, but he was confused at what he thought he was seeing before him. “Can you not stare so hard? Pervert.”
Raimey tore away, blinking and smacking her lips as she was caught in the act. “Ooooh, okay. Says the loony who brought home a beast for his personal fucktoy. Don’t act all high.” She was getting riled up. If her cheeks weren’t so dark, they would most likely be a well bloody mess right now. Joey took some solace that he wasn’t the only one enticed by the monster’s features.
“We’ve gotta get her out of my apartment. Outta this city.” He said.
“That ain’t gonna work.” She shifted on the couch, obviously trying her best to position herself away from having to look over to the bed. “Try walking this thing in any street. And I mean any. You’ll be reported and bagged on the spot.”
Joey choked down the last of his toast. He wasn’t very hungry anymore. The cold truth hung in the air as a sour counter balance to the sweet aroma of the catgirl. He knew what kind of plan it was. It was the typical ones he came up with, which weren’t really plans at all. He always just started with a baseline, a plain idea that always sounded easy and worked up from there. That wouldn’t work this time.

He and Raimey shared worried glances. She couldn’t seem to hold her eyes on his, and turned away to chip at her painted nails. Joey cupped his chin. He looked Raimey up and down.
Or… would it?
Most of her shoulders and upper chest were exposed in a pink top cropped above her breasts. It ran down her short length all the way to her legs to cut off just above the knee, belted at the waist for no purpose other than fashion. The stubby, half inch heels she’d used to barge in with were the only thing between her one piece outfit and her feet, with her smooth legs put on at full display.
“Look…” Her voice turned somber. “I’ll help you explain this to the—“
Joey, in pure eureka, brought both his hands up to gesture at all of the woman on his couch. He said in a serious, and mild mannered tone:
“A whore disguise.”
There was some silence proceeding this proclamation. Joey was certain her sudden silence was her processing the idea. The brilliant idea. He’d solved this entire mess.
Raimey was up, foreleg in the air within a second. Joey had barely registered danger when the meaty club met his easily bruised face.
The room erupted once more in shouts of pain and bewilderment. The catgirl slept soundly through the afternoon.
2
Joey strolled down Fletcher coming onto Buford. The block walled in by high storied buildings under various states of construction was ripe with morning goers. This street neared one of the smaller mercantile hodge-podges. Single women tagging along with their wedded sisters migrated along with the heavy set construction men hunting for a good late breakfast break. Intermixed with this were business and bureaucratic –lookin’ fellows in sleek coats. Theirs were much unlike the one still tied around Joey’s waist, and were ill-suited to the palpable heat beating down on the paved and slated roads. The occasional inquisitor was spotted on corners or patrolling in pairs. Their black armor was tough to spot against some of the bleak toned taverns and residential lots, but all of the polish they rubbed into those metal chrome-domes betrayed them as they shined as blinding beacons in the stark light.
Joey wiped his upper lip of the sweat beads spawning and glanced behind him. He saw his companions lagging well behind him, and hissed for their return at his flank. “Pssst!” He didn’t wave, but gestured subtly with his shoulders. “Let’s pick it up, people.”
Raimey was whispering fervently to the androgynously dressed tower of a shadow she was yanking forward by the rain gloves. She had kept up that same expression of stiff seriousness that would dissuade even an especially kind saint from asking how her day has been.
The giant, who was practically twice the height of the little barrel of angst and glitter that was towing her, shook her head twice in drastic refusal to continue. Her face was hidden in a dull hood from Joey’s own wardrobe. The gloves that barely fit, skirt that showed off the human section of leg, and the thigh high boots that hid her furry legs had all been donated by Raimey. Though he had to suffer another lumping from the amazon, he knew it was worth it for how well it turned out. She just had to hunch her spine to not crest the top of the crowd.
Raimey tugged harder, and she proved more stubborn as the monster obliged. They both caught up garnering one or two passerby’s attention along the way.
“Get her other side!” She spit.
He rolled his eyes, wondering why he had to do everything. He didn’t dare vocalize this thought as he backtracked a bit and grabbed one of the ugly green gloves. It was stretched as far as it could go, in dire risk of tearing apart at the claw hidden beneath.
“We’re doing fine. Just going for a walk.” He whispered, unsure who he talking to. He wanted to calm himself, but it seemed to have some effect on the monster as it stopped struggling as hard to break from their grasp.
“Rrrraaaaoowww.” The freakish feline yowl came from the cute mouth visible under the hood. More stares were cast their way.
“SHHHH!” Raimey beat three fingers against her lips in clear signage. “Quiet!”
“Sounds like she’s hungry.” Joey said, thinking to the innumerable strays that populated the night.
“Oh, what? Are you suddenly an expert veterinarian or somethin’? Can you find out how to make her more obedient? She’s ruining my clothes…”
The continued down the street as inconspicuously as they could. Joey glanced once more to those shiny-headed inquisitors, and found them not barreling toward them.
Entering the mismatched tents and stalls offered more cover. There was sparse traffic than was per usual, which afforded them only the occasional bump and hasty apology as they guided the monster through it all. The aroma of pussy juice finally left Joey’s nostrils as the sweet, innocent scent of fruits, meats, street-wines and bitter vegetables replaced it. There was also the faint smell of the sewage and trash, but that was like saying there was some air in the wind. It was as natural to this spot as any near the factories.
“Yeeeeoo—”
Joey slapped his empty hand to silence the incredible yowl that overshadowed the clatter of the market. He bit his teeth as the catgirl sank her own into his calloused but thinly fingers. He managed to not cry out, and only a single tear ran down his cheek as he felt the sting of blood breaking passed skin.
“Holy shit…” Raimey glanced around, then pushed the two of them off course. “Come on. We need to go.”
Joey wretched himself free. He found no lasting eyes on them. That’s when he did noticed one or two especially curios lookers.
Goddess. I feel like a street dealer who’s face is on every milk carton.
Joey led the way as they turned around a few tents, coming out to the small intersection where the market was truly dense. They turned off the main ebb of traffic. He needed a breather. Not from the tiny sprint they’d achieved, but from the real prospect of getting caught. He couldn’t imagine living another day like this, and hoped he wouldn’t have to.
“Yeeoww…” The catgirl grumbled this one lowly, hunching farther down as if she were bowing.
Raimey and Joey tossed and turned the idea silently between each other. He nodded in agreement, and she did the same. There was really no other option, unless they went gagged the poor thing.
Raimey pulled out a handkerchief and balled it up in her hand. “Okay kitty… open wide for me.”
“No!” Joey intervened, batting her away. “We have to find some food.”
Raimey threw up her hands in protest. “Fine fine. Every second we waste here is time for…” She lowered her voice. “Nevermind.”
Joey tightened his grip on the monster, then released it and started off into the makeshift plaza. “Just wait here. I’ll get an apple, or something.”
“What? You’re not ditching me to be caugh— left— here! Joey! Joey, you ass, get back—“
Her voice was lost as he plunged into the mass of people. He rode it like a wave, going with the flow toward what seemed to be produce as tiny streams broke off into the tiny gaps between stalls. He tried his best not to trip over trash, baskets, and treasures-of-untold-value as he desperately searched for a vender that would sell cat meal.
Every minute was an age. Every second some child pincher would target Raimey and their burden only to pinch their asses and find one strange. That’s really all it would take; one loud mouth with a finger to point. Joey couldn’t recall ever being on the receiving or giving end of that, but he knew for a fact he would lose it if he found one in this public scene without Holy Order escorts. But he hadn’t heard a screech or wail yet, so they must still be in the clear.
I have to find some way to thank her after this. Even if she destroys my home, this is a real—
“Oof!” Joey was startled as he collided with someone shorter than he. He offered quick apologies as came second nature and made to move on. He had to focus on finding food.
“Now hold on.” A droning voice beckoned. “Are you looking for something?”
Joey realized it came from the one who he’d just bumped into, and thought he was about to be mugged. He brought his hands up to about his waist. It was enough to not seem dangerous, but not enough to make a scene. “I don’t want any trouble.”
He turned around. He was met by two bulbous, literal fish eyes staring inches away. He tossed himself backward, smacking it away and releasing a shriek he hoped was more baritone than it sounded in his ears.
A melodious, but measure giggle emanated. The short stacked woman standing before him tossed the red herring in her hand slowly. It flipped and flopped about in her long fingers, producing a grotesque sound. She was dressed in roguish greens and browns that weren’t dirty and covered much of her body.
“Want to buy my fish?” She smiled.
“D’ah…” Joey watched as she kept tossing it around. It was distracting, and clearly code for something. “I’m not… I’m not looking for a… prostitute?” He added the inquisitive implication last minute, having no experience being approached for paid sex or paid food in this manner. She didn’t even seem to host the nearby stall. And her eyes were strange. Everything about this woman felt off, but her eyes were the prime example. They didn’t seem to be looking at him, but he could tell by their color that she wasn’t blind.
She giggled again, haphazardly using the fish to cover her mouth rather than her empty hand like a proper lady would. “Cute… how I wish darling. But no, I offer food. Aren’t you hungry?”
She brought it between them. Joey just blinked in confusion and held out a hand. The somehow still slippery scales gave him goose bumps. He fished out the only amount coin he ever carried. 5 gil.
“Hay uh… how much will this…?”
The strange woman was already walking away, her hand moving with that same rhythm as though she were directing an orchestra. “Run along now. I’m sure she’s ravenous.”
She disappeared into the crowd. Joey didn’t even try to follow her.
That was coincidence. What she said. Yes. She couldn’t have.
Joey gulped. The jig had been pulled up without his realizing.
He bolted through the market against the flow. It didn’t take him long to get to the entrance of the plaza, but a million thoughts ran through his head in the meantime. How had she known? Was his idea of a disguise not as great as he thought? Was she—No!—an inquisitor agent in a disguise of her own? He had to get back to them.
But when he arrived at the tiny pocket betwixt the flowing crowd and a residency, they were no longer there. He searched for a tall, twitching hoody and a black midget. They were gone.
“Shit… shit…” Joey cursed under his breath. It’d been some sort of set up. Something had—
“…Aa~…”
The faint coo came from somewhere behind him. It had been muffled, and came through a shut door. None of the other dozens of people passing by seemed to notice the plea of a woman in need.
None save Joey Lanston.
He kicked down the door and puffed out his chest. His breathing was irregular, his inner agro unleashed and searching for Raimey’s kidnapper.
The quaint, dark reception corridor was void of any metal-heads. They could have been blending in with the walls, however, so he stayed on his guard.
Damn this place needs a window.
He shut the door, snuffing out the clamor outside. Almost as soon as he did, Raimey called from the darkness.
“Joey! Joey! Help!”
Joey recoiled, heart sinking deeper into despair but recognizing she was insanely close by. He was about to shoot off toward the ascending stairwell, calling for her first in a quivery voice. “Raimey? Where are you?”
An outspread hand rose from one corner of the room. It slapped the wall twice before sliding down.
Ghosts. That was the first thing that came to mind. He had been transported to some kind of horror play or one of those moving pictures that used electric energy. Inquisitors were all he had to worry about, and yet now ghostly appendages were spawning with that sounded like his closest friend.
Joey’s eyes adjusted as he stood frozen. He inched forward, the dark shadows receding into forms and shapes he could recognize. It wasn’t long before he could see what it truly was.
Raimey was being pushed against the corner, her curls a mess and a cushion against the slate walls. Her hand that was the ghostly appendage grasped fruitlessly for support. Her one piece pink suit was hiked up to her hips, and a mass of red fur was between her legs. One heel had fallen off her foot by the shaking and constant spasm they were in.
Her eyes were on Joey. “H—help!”
Joey processed the information. He offered a droning “uhhhhhhhh” as response until further notice.
The catgirl heard this and popped out from between his friend’s legs. From her nose down, she was slathered in slickness. The pink tongue dripping with the stuff bobbed up and down in impatience. Those lusty eyes looked Joey up and down, found nothing worth stopping for, and resumed what she had been busy with. Raimey had all of five seconds of rest before she was back to writhing in pleasure.
“G—geet her of—f—f meeee!”
“How the fuck did this happen…” Joey relayed the data again and again, and it just didn’t add up. “Shove her off or something!”
The subtle sounds lick and the gentle bob of the catgirls head transformed into thick slurps as her head dug deeper between Raimey’s thighs.
“I—I can’t—can’t… Aaaa!”
Joey grimaced at the realization he had been worried for this pervert. He was also disappointed he had an erection from watching this. He was a male, so he cut himself slack.
“Okay…” He sighed and clapped his palms together. The catgirls ass was in plain view though steeped in darkness. He went and gave it a tug, trying his best to separate the two.
This was met by yowls interspliced with the slurping. This caused Joey to recall that one time he had been taken to the circus as a child. The lion had been lazy with his tricks, and so the lion tamer denied him his treats. No amount of lying from his parents ever convinced him that the lion tamer had “made it out ok”. He then recalled how forceful the monster had become last night.
When it wants to fuck… it wants to fuck. Like a ravenous beast.
All he really accomplished with his efforts was grabbing a hearty handful of her waist and trim of her ass. She, meanwhile, was still lesbianning it up with Raimey. That woman was just a few feet away from him, gasping and panting to herself. She could at least help him by pushing.
This called for drastic measures.
“This is Juliet echo foxtrot tango to Charlie and Romeo. I’m going in hot.”
Raimey, in a half daze, asked: “Wh—Aaa!—what are you thinking of doing?”
Joey channeled the inner Holy Scout he never got the chance to be. He shed the last pair of work pants he owned, revealing his stiff length. He had his sword, his weapon. And he already had his target before him. He prepped it carefully, mind too fogged to listen to the rational side which was warning him (This is going to be awkward later).
“JULIET ARRIVING ON ALPHA-ANAL!”
Raimey’s eyes shot open in confusion.
The catgirl checked on what he was screaming about behind her.
Joey wasted not another moment before slamming his cock as deep as he could get it into the catgirl’s anus. A sharp, and very cute, gasp came. It was about as pleasing to hear the monster’s human cry as it was to feel himself wrapped in the tightness of her ass. It was incredibly tight, almost excruciatingly so. He had to halt his plan to go full force with it all to adjust. The catgirl waited as well, only risking to slowly press herself against him, as if she wanted more cock that he simply didn’t have.
Oh yeah? Greedy cat. “I’ve got more than enough for ya!”
He hadn’t meant to say that last part. A matter of fact, he couldn’t recall if he’d said other things without his knowing or even what his name was. He was lost, and welcomed the feeling.
He retreated all the way to the tip before ramming back inside. This single stroke sent him spinning, and the catgirl yowling deeply. He managed to hang on, and gave another push. And then another. He found a rhythm and stuck with it. He didn’t care that it was slow, it was good. His groin slammed against her cheeks, sending all of her up and down onto him. As he did so, he looked to the other woman who was staring right into his eyes. She didn’t seem too keen on the mojo he had going. She actually looked more horrified than horny. Let that be her be the one to miss out on this ecstasy.
Sadly, he found he couldn’t last any longer. Despite wanting it to never end, he felt that surge coming on like it never had before. He knew this would be big.
“Hoh, Goddess…”
He clasped about her waist, arching forward to rest his head on the nape of her back. He came inside, and relished the feeling of jerking every time he did.
The lust died, but left remnants of joy in the sweet embrace between the bodies of sweat.
When it was finally over, he stood straight on his knees. He wiped his brow of sweat, sighing in contentment. He didn’t detach himself as he pronounced proudly: “A job well done.”
Raimey had given up on her gaped mouth look, and settled for the usual blank stare coupled with a slight shake of the head. Seems her respect for him had found a new low. Joey didn’t really mind. She hadn’t moved an inch from where he had found her, and that proved to be a mistake. The catgirl went back to lapping up Raimey’s wet pussy. She, in turn, started up with the panting and the “Aaah”ing.
Sheesh. I really do have to do everything.
He went about pulling her off again, but he was rather spent in strength. He had to get her off though. They’d wasted enough time. She yowled and whined, not wanting to release his friend.
“Come on! I gave you what monsters need, right? Let off her already, by the Godde—“
At the height of her yowls, a claw came around and dug itself into his cheek. He fell to the floor, dick painfully curving as he was thrown away. He smacked the hardwood floor with the side of his head. That was what caused much of the pain Joey reeled from, though his cheek was stinging. He found with the injury and his spent energy, he couldn’t get up. He noticed his own blood staining the floor just ahead of him. He also realized he had been holding onto the fish he had gotten for the son of a pussy… daughter of a pussy… The cat bitch who scratched him. He had held onto it the entire time while he was fucking her ass. Now, he would die gazing into its lifeless orbs and puffy lips.
Just then, beyond the blood bleariness, golden light sprang into view. Death came to mind, but it was just the door to the outside being opened. A delicate pair of sandaled feet stepped through, their fat straps crisscrossing to wrap around the ankles. That strange woman’s voice spoke with very prominent amusement.
“Oh my. What a scene we have here. I can tell… we have ourselves a natural.”
Joey blanked out soon after. He dreamed of being in a school of red herrings.
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Breeding Season: The Making of a Kingpin