Anonthrostate

Honeymooners

Something is poking you...

You're aware of that first and foremost as your mind is brought back from whatever abyssal darkness had overtaken it. Recent memories are cloudy, and the more you try to focus, the less clear they become. Were you drinking? Did you finally slip in the bathtub and crack your head open? Is this what eight hours of sleep feels like? The last thing you recall was feeling god-damned terrified of SOMETHING, and then...nothing. Your mind draws a high-resolution image of a blank, and even if you could remember anything you would have to deal with that constant. Irritating. POKING! You swat at it, only to realize that your hands are bound. In a panic, you try to stand, but find your waist and legs are similarly restrained. No...

A gruff voice murmurs "Hey, you."

Oh god no!

"You're finally awake."

Oh fucking hell please no! Anything but that! Please for the love of whatever god or demon has your back, let this be-

The bag over your head is pulled off, revealing the inside of a police wagon. Relief washes over you, only to be replaced by a new sense of dread at the sight of an inspector's uniform. Adding to this, you can all but feel the glare of the two well-armed anthros flanking you. Recent memory comes flooding back as you recall your latest session of late-night melancholy, followed by the anthrostate's goons bursting into your apartment. You remember the shouting, the wild and desperate swinging with a baseball bat...and then her. A fucking monkey strode in like the sight of a man swinging a weapon was simply Tuesday, caught the bat one hand, then decked you with the other. The pain in your jaw flares up, as if waiting for the moment to tell you how you got knocked the fuck out. You try to rub it, only to remember that your hands are tied -no, cuffed to your sides.

"Anon. Glad to see you back with the living." that same gruff voice said from somewhere in front of you. It was then that you noticed who the inspector sitting across from you was. She had maybe a foot or two on you, as well as at least fifty pounds of lean muscle, and sported a well-maintained pompadour. Combined with the aviators and the shit-eating grin, you could only assume that this chimp was the one in charge. You definitely recognized her as the one who clocked you, but there wasn't anything you could do about that. She flicked the toothpick she was chewing on in your direction and added, "We're almost there, buddy. Your wife is eager to meet you at last."

The rest of the ride was in relative silence, save for your constant cursing and ranting about the bullshit of your situation. Seriously how fucked is things that they could break down your door and raid your place? They even made you watch as they deleted you prized collection of definitely-legally-acquired Neptunia games, saying that "your wife wouldn't approve of such shit taste, anyways". On top of that, who does she think she is, sporting that hair in this day and age? What? Was she some sort of delinquent gang leader with a heart of gold? Stupid fucking monkey thinks she's hot shit just because she got a lucking hit or three in during your fight. Yes, it was a fight and one you were definitely winning before she rushed you like that. If she untied you right now you'd be down for round two-

"We're here!" a voice from the front shouted, interrupting your latest tirade and the monkey's unjustified laughter.

Said monkey reaches across the way to ruffle your hair, grinning what you think might be the first genuine smile you've seen. "I like you kid. If you weren't already being married off, I'd like to take a crack at you myself." her grip tightened and yanked your head closer, and whispered, "And, if nothing else, I'd love to take the afternoon breaking you for talking shit about my hair."

She released you with another smug smile and you were escorted out of the van and into the huge grey building that spelled your doom. The marriage office had a cutesy sign next to it depicting a human guy in a suit next to a big dog woman in a bride's gown. Notably, someone had scribbled a chain around the guy's leg that lead up to the bride's hands. A bit on the nose, but you had to give the graffiti props for at least adding a bit of honesty to things. Also because, for magic marker, it was really well done.

You, and the two guards flanking you, sat in the lobby along with the other human suckers. Some were surrounded with guards like you were, while others seemed to be in line willingly. One guy, you noted, seemed pretty fucking happy to be here, if the lewd gestures towards the receptionist was anything to go by. The monkey disappeared behind some double doors on the other side of the room and beyond the receptionist's desk. Minutes that felt like hours rolled by as you watched several men be processed. One guy was paired up with some kind of dog that looked like a cross between between a canine and a mop. She hoisted him up over her shoulder and proudly marched outward, openly and brazenly groping his ass in the process. You and the guy locked eyes and exchanged a shrug that said "it is what it is". Or maybe it was "Oh god, help me! I'm so fucked!". Either way the door broke your line of sight with each other and your disappeared from the others' life. The next guy, who looked like he might've stood a chance against miss monkey if he had some brass knuckles, was paired up with a deer woman who barely came up to his shoulders. You and him must have been figuring the same thing with her diminutive form and gentle expression right up until a stream of vulgar language poured out of her mouth. You hope he was a sailor because his face was beet red and you sure yours was as well. Soon enough his shock turned into something between fear and determination as he launched off his own cursing. This seemed to satisfy the deer, as they bickered back and fourth through the lobby and out the doors. You wish him the best, but....you've seen enough hentai to know some brat-taming when you see it. She's going to do all sorts of weird things to him...and he's probably going to like it.

Luckily your mental image of those things is interrupted before it could get weirder. Unfortunately it's interrupted by a pompadour poking through a door's gap and a gruff voice shouting "Bring him in!"

The guards flanking you hoist you up by the shoulders and all but drag you across the lobby to the double doors. The other humans watch on curiously, while the anthros do so knowingly. The receptionist, to her credit, doesn't seem to look at all. This is Tuesday for her, and you wish you could also return to your sad state of normalcy. Instead you're being marched down a hall to meet the woman who would legally be obliged to make your life a living hell, or at least turn you into such a whipped slave that you dare not complain. Probably some crazed hyena or wolf with a dozen pissed off sisters. Maybe even some asshole of a cat that'd claw you up just for looking at her the wrong way. Hell you weren't even handed a letter, you were dragged into the office so surely they can't have picked some pushover, right?

No, you realize with dread creeping up your spine, you are definitely paired with the toughest motherfucker you could find. That monkey mentioned wanting to break you herself, didn't she? What could be worse than the unholy fusion of a biker, a particular brand of German soldier, and a particular Chinese legend monkey? As you were brought to a sudden stop in front of another set of double doors, you realized you were about to find out.

A moment passed as the three of you waited, and another passed before a third joined it. You weren't sure if it was the summer heat or your nerves, but you were more sweat than man at that point.

"She's just getting the last of her paperwork signed off." a voice came from behind, making you practically jump out of your skin. You turned to see that same monkey guard standing behind you. Even in the gloom of the halls, she wore those shades. Maybe they were a part of her face? As if sensing your thoughts, she took them off and tucked them into a breast pocket, revealing an easy expression that seemed to look through you. "She should be out any second now."

Sure enough, the double doors parted. You weren't sure what you expected, but a sheep wasn't very high on the list. Shorter than you by at least a foot, she was already strange enough compared to most anthros you had seen, but her black wool only added to it. Between her black wool, black skin, and the black t-shirt and shorts she had somehow stuffed her considerable curves into, it was like a shadow had stepped out to meet you. Her eyes, with that unsettling pupil shape some anthros were known for, flicked across your features before settling on your own.

"Hello, Hubby. I'm Lorna." the sheep said, offering her hand to you. You weren't sure what to see, so you took it in your own. The fingertips were hard and hooflike, but blunt. You didn't have to worry about her clawing you, at least. You give her your name and the two you shake on it. Maybe this actually might turn out oka-

"Lorna Cariad," the monkey boomed, glasses back on and watching the two of you, "And Ano Nemo CARIAD..." She put more emphasis on that last name, to help hammer home that it was yours from now on. Her grin grew wider, and continued with "On behalf of the State and my authority as witness, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife."

Wait a second...

"You may now Kiss the Groom!"

That hand you were still dumbly shaking tightened into a crushing grip, before pulling you down enough to let her other hand grip your hair. The second you spent yelping was enough for her muzzle to close the distance and for her tongue to force its way into your mouth. It wasn't particularly long, nor strong, but the surprise of the last three seconds was enough for it to press your own oral muscle down to explore your mouth freely. You could taste some kind of vegetable and some kind of alcohol. You tried to pull away, but the grip she had on both your hair as well as now your shoulder may as well have been made of iron for all the progress you made trying to distance yourself. Worse was that she was pressing more and more into you, using that considerable weight you suspected in full to bring you down to your knees. You felt her groaning...no...it was something else now. Her eyes had closed and that same rumbling came up from her throat. When she pulled away, likely for air, you heard it clearly: she was bleating a little with every breath.

You had less time to catch your breath, as she went back in and forced you down more. You tried to steady yourself, but soon your back met the floor and her grip on your hair moved to the back of your neck. Her other hand laced her fingers through yours while she continued her oral molestation, and her knee slid between your legs to rest against your groin.

Oh God, you silently prayed, not like this.
Not in front of the guards and that monkey, at least.

You aren't sure if it was God who heard your prayers, or perhaps the way the guards were looking at you and your assailant with a mix of amusement and lust, but you found her being lifted off of you and brought back to your hooves. It was, surprisingly, the Monkey who had bailed you out of getting your cherry popped in a government building.

"Okay, you lovebirds, save it for when you take him home. We've got other couples to process and can't afford the time it'd take to clean up afterwards."

Lorna, seeing where she was for maybe the first time since the one-sided kiss began, sheepishly smoothed out your clothing. "Y-yeah..."
You were also brought to your feet, and dusted off by your simian slave-trader. You decided to ignore the way she spent an few extra pats on your tented jeans; that wasn't you, that was your body betraying you. To her credit, she also didn't say anything beyond the implied "I'm noticing your bulge." glance she gave you past her shades.

"Go on, now. Go show Ano his new home."

That hand grabbed yours, and once again you found yourself being dragged down the same hall in the opposite direction. Without the blessing of your own paranoia-fueled speculation, the trip went much faster than before. Soon enough, you were standing at the passenger side of a volkswagon bug that looked way too well-maintained for a pre-war vehicle. You were all but shoved inside while you were thinking of running, and you watched her squeeze into the driver's side. All that wool practically made her a wall of black that took up the other side.

After a moment to find her key and start the beetle up, she said "Sorry about all that. I had to make it convincing. I'll fill you in when we get there, but for now, let's head home."