A Story, and a Sneak Preview (Patreon)

So the remaining files for 15+ backers are actually components of a piece of short interactive fiction I am working on, called "In Vino Veritas". Here is one way the story could go down - there will be audio versions of all the endings/choices and it will contain about 3 "sessions" with andi which can each go 3-4 ways, so, lots of permutations - just a simple thing. Might be a slight gamification element. Anyway enjoy the story, I'll make a fancy pdf to go with the game when I finish it all, but you get early access to a 30 minute trance session based on this story (with improvements to the flow of events), sometime this week. ;)

People at 25+, you're going to get an exclusive peek at my meditation content somewhere in that same timeframe.

Here you go!

In Vino Veritas - Ending 2A

Professor Spruce draws wards on the classroom door when she enters. She just pulls out a piece of chalk and scratches a diagram into the wood - then she brushes it with her furred palm and it lights up. Every bit of fur on her body is outlined in electricity and fox fire, she really puts that ward on there.

You can still open the door if you need the bathroom, of course, but you can’t accidentally stumble in. You’d have better luck breaking one of the big windows - which don’t open- than blowing your way through the door. 

During one particular class, after everyone has taken their seats. You watch how she does it. One silver-furred hand holding a piece of chalk, the other holding up a book while she browses her lesson plan. Her top is stretched tight over her breasts, and her skirt tight over equally wonderful lower curves. But you watch her hand, trying to divine the purpose of locking the door this way each time...

Each stroke of the diagram is almost bored, fluid and automatic. She gets a lot of practice. There is a circle first...

Then she draws a second circle in the middle...

Radiating from this central point, the chalk scratches rays from the center to the edge of the outer circle.

One. A line across, but there is still only one ring around the outside, just with a line across it..

Two, a second mark, now there are two sections of the ring...

Three, a third mark makes it so there are three segments...

In those segments, she begins to draw symbols. Scratching letters, some you recognize as the greek alphabet, an omega, a gamma here and there... Then a few hiragana scribbles, a long flourished english S and D and L and more... words overlapping. Everything weaves together, but she can clearly see a layer in her head.

A fourth ray from the center of the circle to the edge, watching the diagram take shape. Her fur is very slightly standing up.

A fifth, and now the diagram glows blue. A few people glance over, but they aren’t trying to watch as closely as you, they are just noting something they’ve all gotten used to...

You stare at the center of the diagram, as she makes a sixth mark... a seventh...

Eight....

Nine... scribbling words and symbols between it all.

Ten.

She ends with a flourish, signing her name into the circle of the diagram, binding her own power, brushing her palm across it.

it flares blue. You’re locked in. Class can begin.

Spruce walks toward the whiteboard, preparing to turn on the projector.

You consider asking why Spruce always draws the wards... but your eyes feel curiously heavy. You notice little static electricity sparkles on the fox woman’s fur...

Then there is a <snap> sound from near the door... you feel your head droop forward. The last thing you notice is Spruce smiling, with a “Gotcha” air to her features. You hear a jaunty voice from the other side of the door:

“Hey, I need to borrow one of them.”

Spruce walks past your seat, but you feel drowsy, a bit blank, smiling, mouth hanging open, everything is fine. Whoever is outside the door, Spruce is asking why she isn’t using the seniors.

“Naw, I need one of these,” answers the voice.

Spruce takes a deep breath. “Can I get any volunteers?” the fox woman asks-

But the dragon interrupts again, this time with a flutter of the small wings on her back. Yeah, she’s one of the acquisitions staff. You turn your head enough to see her. Blood red scales, a constant fanged smile. Her dark hair falls past her shoulders. She hovers over the class - good thing there are high ceilings. She is wearing short cargo shorts instead of a skirt. This reveals long smooth scaled legs. Her clawed - and bare - feet set down on your desk. “This one.”

“Wouldn’t volunteers be more sensible?” asks the fox.

You find it difficult to say anything, you just stand up, leaving your bag on the floor.

“Naw. This one.” The dragon repeats.

Spruce looks imploringly at you, begging with her eyes for you to go so class can continue. You nod.

The dragon jumps off your desk hovering to the door. She really isn’t wearing much - a leather vest over a tight belly-revealing t-shirt. She has no visible belly button, you notice. The shorts are tight and taut across a butt smaller and more muscular than Spruce’s, but her hips are wide and her entire form looks sculpted.

As you leave the room, everyone heaves a sigh of relief, and you follow the dragon...

She has a small pair of horns nestled among her hair, swept back over her head like a ram’s, and her long tail has a spade at the end, which is not an explicitly draconic trait though it is covered in scales.

You try to ask what she needs you for, but she’s wrapping her arm around yours, and you feel a bit tongue tied.

“Hey, wanna do me a favor?” Her breasts are much smaller than Spruce’s. A mid-sized b-cup, maybe even a large A, depending on how much padding and push up is going on. But her body is amazingly hot. The feeling of it throbbing against your arm is a soothing distraction as you tread lazily, dopily along the corridor...

“You looked right at warding magic designed to stop me... which means mental wards. Spruce has a sense of humour...”

The woman explains further while you manage to barely follow her tread out of the first year wing and up the stairs to the library.

“You’re a bit muddled. I’m Andi. I need your help testing something... should work perfectly.”

You just nod. You’d nod at anything. Behind your eyes, when you blink, the symbol on the door... swirling, turning, blue and beautiful.

As you move further from the classroom, it becomes easier to think. But the relaxing feeling of the dragon woman - who is shorter than the fox - is enough to keep you treading the halls in a relaxed stupor.

There is a small room off the main drag of the library. Almost no one can see it at first, but as you get better at illusion magic it appears obvious that one of the walls is fake.

Andi leads you through this fake wall seamlessly.

“I can see magic, basically. You’ve got good potential, so-”

There is a room with a single low table, some cushions, some gymnastics mats, what looks like a storage room - except no one usually comes in here.

On the table, in an ice bucket, is a bottle of wine.

“Look I can’t tell you where this comes from, but the administration knows...”

She picks up the bottle, the label has one word on it: “Vino”, which just means wine, you know...

Andi taps the bottle. 

“Drink with me. It’ll make you tell the truth. I’ll drink it too.”

You manage to un-tangle your thoughts enough to ask, wait, doesn’t she need a control group.

“Spruce refuses to drink it,” the Dragon sighs. “So she was already my control group, and she can read me well enough to tell if I’m lying. I need someone who won’t be able to tell, for this...”

The dragon’s scales are impossibly smooth, heat beads off of her, her hair sways in a breeze which  touches only her...

You nod affirmatively, willing to try it.

“Good, then let’s go somewhere nicer...”

A wave of her clawed hand, the blood colored scales flare with orange light from inside...

A door appears on the opposite wall. It is made of stone... it swings open. You see candle light pooling, gleaming across the floor.

With the bottle of wine in her hand, Andi enters the room, holding your arm with her other hand. You follow...

Inside is a bed, but it is perfectly square and covered in blankets and pillows heaped high. She leaps onto it, one flap of her wings letting the woman glide...

The door swings shut behind you. It is cloyingly hot, beautifully so... you immediately feel your hands lazily finding your clothes, pulling them off, leaving you naked... you see her doing the same. Unsnapping the button on her shorts and sliding them down. Her pussy is scaled, but looks incredibly soft. The lips are slightly parted and look normal... her chest, when revealed, show both breasts are pert and high, perky... her muscular butt  wiggles when she kicks the shorts aside. Both of her nipples are pointed. The tail coils around one of her legs. She drops onto the bed, bouncing, bouncing, landing on her side with one hand on her thigh next to her ass, and the other propping up her head.

“Come on over,” her voice is more cheerful than seductive, but the body makes up for it. 

Arousal is obvious on your body, and she watches you with every sign of eagerness.

You ask her why you both stripped naked just now.

“Hey, wait until we have the truth wine in us. You’re wasting perfectly good questions.”

Andi pulls the cork out of the bottle with two fingers, her clawed nails digging into it. You hear a POP as she does. Vapor rises from the rim of the bottle.

The dragon woman waves at a shelving unit... Two large wine glasses fly into her hand, stem first.

She passes one to you. Pours.

The liquid is dark purple, darker even than normal red wine... is it grape juice, you wonder?

You drink the glass, almost without thinking. She does the same.

It tingles and buzzes on your tongue... The taste is slightly sour, your lips purse, you swallow, swallow, keep drinking - strangely wonderful aftertaste, for something which was at once sweet and sour going down. Not a great wine but...

Floating.

It flows down your throat warm and sour and then the sweetness blossoms up, fills your head.

You feel uninhibited.

Yes, floating. Nice. So nice.

Your shoulders slump, some tension gone, though of course there is still some there.

“How are you feeling?” she asks...

You don’t precisely answer. Your mind forms thoughts, you know your lips are moving... know it in a distant vague way...She nods after a bit.

The truth is you feel wonderful, tingling, warm all over, and you slooowly set down your glass and then lay on the bed. The bed is soft. The blankets are nice on your bare skin.

You ask how she feels.

“A bit horny...” She begins organizing blankets and pillows. “And happy, to test this. I get paid after I write reviews, I’ll chip you a bit of the cash...” She yawns and puts her own empty glass down, then rolls across the bed to begin rubbing and massaging your shoulders...

Her hands on your bare skin feel nice, and she runs her nails so lightly you feel a delightful scritchiness in between full warm squeezes of your skin.

You ask why she’s doing things as she answers, instead of just basking in the warm driftiness you feel. It is like the trance you ended up in when you watched Spruce trace her diagram.. but more. There is some warmth in your ears and cheeks, like alcohol. There is warmth in your belly, like comfort.

There is warmth between your legs, probably from Andi accidentally on purpose rubbing her breasts against your arm...

Her nipples are pointed. She was telling the truth about her arousal. She answers your new question...

“I want to see if different emotional states and physical positions change how honest we have to be,” Andi answers promptly...

Then she rubs your shoulders particularly firmly, sending a ping of pain and pleasure down your arms where you have been tense. “And I just wanted to touch you. I just want to touch most people, but, eh. No one has surveillance on this room but me, we’re consenting adults, and its not like I have any authority at the university...”

She shuts up, eventually, but clearly the wine makes you tell the WHOLE truth.

No pretense, no seduction, just her hands honestly exploring you...

“Ask me some questions”, she instructs, as she straddles your back and pulls you more toward the middle of the bed. You feel warmth radiating from her whole body, and particularly between her legs, as she massages your shoulders deeply... Warm, quiet. Paradise.

“You don’t need to pay me anything,” you tell her, as the relaxation and the sauna of her presence become all you are.

You can hear the smile as she says, “Then I won’t.” She snaps her fingers by your ear <snap> and repeats her request as your eyes close: “Ask me something now...”

Your lips begin to move as she rubs tension from your body, quietly counting her own movements...

One...

Two...

Three <snap>...

You slowly form a question, and ask, with your mind warm and body at rest beneath the muscled dragon girl.

Answer 2A

You ask her something neutral, at first. Actually, you try to pawn responsibility off on her, you ask - wouldn’t she rather be the one asking the questions?

A smile, “Yeah, I’d rather forget the conversation altogether, and just snuggle.”

She leans down over your body, pressing her breasts to your back...

You are laying on a soft and comfortable bed, surrounded by heat and covered with a pretty naked girl.

She cuddles your back, snuggling up to you. She presses her pointed nipples against you ,but always her hands remain carefully positioned to keep rubbing your stress away.

“Feel nice?” she asks.

You nod and smile in the affirmative. Eventually, the wine in your body makes your lips move, you don’t know how, but you let out an affirmative verbal “yes”

The entire incidence of entering the room, drinking the wine, falling under her influence... it all seemed to pass so quickly.

“What do you most want to do right now?” you ask, thinking it is another innocuous question.

Her voice remains light and cheerful, but her answer makes you freeze in place.

“I want to fuck, deep and hard until you’re wet and aching and smell like me.  I want to pin you down, wrap you in my wings, show what I can do... I want to salve my inadequacies...” She’s leaning by your ear, whispering, you see her dark hair falling over your eyes, smell her perfume, which is really more a cologne of cloves and rum and sweet citrus all mingled.

She grips your body, sliding her hands under you, clasping them together, holding you in a very tight hug so you feel not only her breasts and pointed nipples, but her flat taut belly, and her pussy’s juices dripping onto your lower back as she straddles and squeezes you.

“I most want to give in and rut and touch bestial places which are too deep to predict...”

She whispers in your ear: “And I know you do too. You want to give in, hot and tight and blank. You want to feel our bodies mingle... you want another sip, another word, another deep breath. Wiggle against me. Do it.”

Her command, in your addled, slightly drunk, truth-bound brain, knowing she meant every word... her command is everything, and you tilt your neck to expose your ear for her to whisper more.

Her hands, slid around your body, find their way between your legs. She begins to rub and massage, making you feel the slow rise of arousal peaking, the ascent toward climax.

“Did you know you can make yourself cum by just moving internal muscles, without even touching?” she asks.

You answer her, but as you answer, your internal muscles, the spot behind your crotch, spots you considered purely internal and beyond your reach...

“Do you feel it?” she asks, and you nod affirmatively, another verbal yes follows, as your body seems to take her command to heart and begins clenching, working your internals. A tightness that you feel in your ass, inside, in the sparking pleasure place that sends signals to your brain and tells you orgasm is getting closer and closer.

“Will you keep clenching your insides for me, until you cum?” she asks.

You say yes, and now you feel your body getting tight, taut, hot, it all feels so good... She’s whispering in your ear, running her hands between your legs, brushing her warm supple muscled body against you. Her hair brushes the back of your neck.

“So, been checking out my ass when I pass you in corridors?” she asks Your mind focuses on images of her rear, the way she sways and wears things to show it off, while covering her chest. You think of her whole body, body now pressed to your back. Arousal spikes.

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead she seals your mouth with a kiss, waiting until you’re out of breath from kissing back. You want to answer her question, but she asks another: “Does that feel good?”

Her hands are still pumping between your legs. The pleasure builds. so does the instruction in your mind, the order from the wine, you have to answer her questions but now you have two unanswered... it is so hard to think, so hard to form words, and she keeps kissing you. Her perfume is filling your mind. She has you pinned down, wedging both her hands under you. She uses the soft silk sheets on the bed, and her hands, to stimulate your body, working, making pleasure rise.

Every now and then you try to speak, to answer, but she just keeps kissing you to cut you off, so the words inside your head are so crowded.

The truth is getting backed up in your head, even as orgasm and climax approach between your legs. You begin to shiver. She asks more questions of your truth potioned mind, you want to answer her, but if she doesn’t hear the answers, the magic doesn’t consider them answered, and she keeps kissing instead of listening.

“Do you like this?” She asks, lightly slapping your inner thigh with one hand then massaging the slight red marks left behind...

“Or this?” she asks, raking her claws very lightly over your stomach and sides, leaving tiny marks.

“Can you tell how wet I am?” she asks, rubbing her pussy against the side of your body, so you feel the parted lips and dripping juices.

Question after question, word after word.

Your whole body is shaking, and she’s just forcing pleasure in. Her form, beautiful, curved, rubbing her modest breasts and her aching moisture below against you to keep you in a sexual frame of mind.

She asks questions. Some she lets you answer, but even more she forces you to hold back.

In your body, orgasm is getting closer. In your mind, all the contained truth, the pent up answers to her many sexual questions... it is all bunched up and connected and you wonder what will happen when...

“Do you want to cum? Do you want to let it all out, all that tension, for me...?” She asks, and you nod, you try to say words but she captures your lips. You want to tell her that yes you like it, yes you check out her ass, yes you feel how your insides keep clenching, forcing climax nearer and nearer, release nearer and nearer.

Your mind is awash in urges, she just keeps touching and bites your neck lightly, you feel how gently her fangs are being used.

Thud. Throb.

Thud. Drip.

Thud, droop, your whole body is so tense inside that you just lock up and push against her, begging her to finish you off.

She keeps starting and stopping, moving her hand and then letting them slack off.

You whimper, but you know she will stop any words. Your inability to get off because she keeps starting and stopping, but you’re right on the edge... its all too much.

You are still clenching your insides, like she asked, as she covers you and pins you down, then whispers a few words:

“Would you like to cum for me NOW?”

You say yes again, you nod. The drink must have had more than just truth evoking properties, because the two questions mill around in your mind, the duplicative questions, amplified. You want to cum. You need to cum, now.

Your entire body caught in divine spasms, everything about the moment is between your legs, in the connection of her soft scales against you and her warm body shivering, shuddering, shaking. She is there too. She can feel you, feel how hot you are.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

Your mouth opens, you begin pouring words, and drool, as climax arrives. You roll your butt back against her hips, you kiss her briefly then tell her everything she’s asked. You tell her how good it feels, how you cum, how your body is alight with her and you know you’re getting attached to her grasp.

The sensations roll. She keeps touching you as effectively as you would yourself. She stimulates in such a way that you can’t get away from it. Overstimulation, climax, the way it makes you shudder. She keeps it going right through the aftershock, right through the afterglow, right through and through your body.

She touches, and you try to roll your hips away. But she insists you keep feeling pleasure.

The whole time her thighs are trembling, she is humping against your leg, working off some of her frustration and it must be the nub of her clit you feel against your upper thigh, because she gets off - the sweat on her chest mingling and touching you. How something with scales sweats, you don’t know. You’d ask, but words are lost as you drool and giggle on her bed in some otherworldly lair...

Slooowly, the potion wears off.

You breathe a sigh of relief, and expect she is going to tell you to go.

She gets up.

Sure enough, you brace for it, trying to make your weary mind achieve a semblance of order. There is a squeaking sound... like a faucet being turned. The rushing of water. Where did that sink, that faucet, come from?

She’s filling a jug. She has a cloth in hand.

You thought she was going to kick you out of bed, but the dragon slooowly brings the jug over. You can see how her thighs are shaking, juices still dripping from her pussy. She almost collapses on the edge of the bed. Pouring some fresh clear water from the jug into her rag - the sink wasn’t always there, you’re sure of it... She begins to scrub your body. She also puts a towel under you so the bed won’t get wet, and gently coaxes you to sit up...

“You can sleep here today if you want. Spruce will excuse you from class...”

The dragon begins to scrub your body clean of fluids and sweat, spending time rubbing down your thigh. You have almost no energy, so you just let her... Thanking her during.

“You’re doing me next...” she says.

You tell her you’re not sure you can stay awake that long, and the dragon shrugs.

"If you do fall asleep, this might all feel like a dream... but hey, if you forget, I’ll remind you next time I need a test subject. Maybe I’ll run this same experiment again... in fact...”

She leans down, kisses you on the forehead, and says “Sleep”. Now she smells of sex and sweat but also cloves and rum and citrus once more...

You feel your eyes grow heavy, as she moves the cloth between your legs, along your back, wringing it out into a basin, wiping you at the end with a towel, tucking you in and... you’re barely aware, but you’re sure it happens...

Eventually she lays down beside you, nestled like spoons, and you both fall off to sleep.