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stress relief

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A deep sigh bubbled up from your chest. The early evening light had long since given way to night and you'd been sitting at your desk for most of that time. Yawning, you stretched, eyes gliding over the piles of books and papers you've been immersed in. A bowl with a few soggy leftover grubflakes was perched precariously on a stack of legal texts next to your cup. A document you hadn't managed to write anything into in the last 10 minutes was glaring at you from the screen of your husktop.

The chair creaked as you leaned back, rubbing your sore eyes, resting your sore back, and trying to get your sore thinkpan to cooperate. But it didn't help. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you needed a real break, possibly combined with a real meal, since it had been at least four hours since breakfast.

You also had another problem, one just as frustrating as hunger and tiredness, but much harder to ignore. No matter how long you waited, how much you shifted in your chair or tried to distract yourself, your bulge would not stop demanding your attention. Every time you thought you'd finally put it out of your mind, you caught your hand worming its way under the waistband of your shorts, and every time the problem only got worse.

Yeah, there was no way you were getting anything done like this. Something had to be done about it. At the very least, you could get multiple wingbeasts out of the way with one stone.

Hitting save on the document (twice, for good measure) you got up, wobbled a little, and sighed again. You picked up your empty cup and, rubbing some feeling back into your ass, headed towards your respiteblock. The kitchen was on the way, so you left the cup on the counter since you were going to need it later.

Your room was a mess, dirty and clean clothes strewn about in piles only your lusus could make sense of. But you weren't there for a change of clothes. Bee-lining for a cabinet next to your recuperacoon, you knelt down and opened it. Inside was a large gray box, which you eagerly pulled into your lap. Some of your frustration started to give way to anticipation.

In lieu of any other form of stress relief, you'd amassed a frankly rather embarrassing collection of toys. It had never been your intention to get more than a few, but the selections were vast and titillating, and before you knew it you were in a position where you actually had trouble deciding what to use.

Thankfully, you'd discovered a rather clever workaround recently. Instead of just picking one, you took three toys out of the box before returning it to its place. You also made sure to grab a bottle of lube. Then, satisfied, you made your way to the ablutionblock.

Flicking the lights on, you set your implements carefully on the edge of the sink and began to strip. You made quick work of your hoodie and socks, which landed in a pile on the floor. You unbuttoned your shirt with a little more care. You hadn't filed your claws in a while and you didn't want to ruin any of the buttons. Shrugging it off you hummed under your breath, enjoying the feel of the air on your bare skin. Your tits were small enough that you didn't bother with a bra, at least at home.

Becoming distracted for a moment, you thumbed at your nipple with the blunt of your claw. You must have been more aroused than you thought since they were already so stiff. You flushed at the thought that you could have left your hive on some errand or other without even noticing. Fuck, it had probably happened before.

It was too uncomfortable to contemplate. You slid your shorts off and stepped out of them, swearing under your breath at the state of your boxers. The squirming of your bulge was very obvious through the soaked white cotton. When did it get so bad?

Slowly, you pulled the waistband away from your stomach. Translucent teal strands broke where the garment stopped touching your bulge and nook. The bulge itself squirmed upwards, the tip brushing the edges of your fingers.

Before you got yourself even filthier you slid the stained cotton down your legs, and kicked it onto the pile of other clothes.

Finally ready, you grabbed your toys from the sink and stepped into the shower. There was a cubby there that held your soap, shampoo and conditioner, as well as a full set of high-end of hygienic products Tagora had given you, still in its plastic wrapping. If that guy's regiment took half as much time as the one he tried to start you on, who knew how he got anything done.

Despite your classmate's gift, there was still just enough space to fit your toys and lube. You also took off your glasses and set them on top of it, which was pretty much the most use it’s seen so far.

A cold stream of water hit you, immediately taking the edge off your stupor. You fiddled with the knobs for a few seconds, until a comfortably cool stream enveloped your body. You just stood there for a few moments, letting the tension drain out of your shoulders, releasing a contented sigh.

You proceeded to run your fingers through your hair to get it fully wet, before you turned off the water temporarily and grabbed the shower gel. You squeezed a generous amount of it into your hand and started lathering yourself up.

As you made your way up your body you pointedly skipped over anything waist high. If you started touching yourself there now, the shower part of this shower was over. But you still tried to enjoy the rest process. While you struggled to clean every part of your back you kind of wished that if Tagora had to give you something weird and shower-related, it had been something practical like a brush instead of whole tubs of cheekblade cream.

Even though they weren't so sensitive that a simple shower would do much for you, you still tried to make quick work of your breasts. Despite the cool water, you were still turned on enough that most of your thoughts right now were quite distracting.

Finally, you switched over to the shampoo. This you took time with, carefully undoing the knots in your hair and gently massaging your scalp with the pads of your fingers. The soreness behind your eyes receded, leaving you with a wonderful sense of relief, but also a renewed awareness of every other sensation in your body.

You turned the water back on, slicking your hair back so the shampoo wouldn't run into your eyes. You washed your hair carefully, but let the water wash off the rest of it on its own. Instead, you turned your attention to the toys at last. Arranged one by one were a buttplug, a vibrating bulgering (a recent discovery), and a good old fashioned dildo.

Frankly, part of you wanted to skip to the good part and just start with the latter for a quick orgasm. But that would waste all the anticipation you've been building up. No, you better start with the ring.

It was simple, black, with a single small switch on the side. Wrapping one hand gently around the base of your bulge, you held the ring patiently in front of it. When the squirming tip slipped across the edge, you quickly slid it on. Moving your other hand out of the way, you eased the ring up as far as it would go, almost to the base. You let go of it for a few moments, waiting to see if it would slide off the squirming, slippery appendage. Satisfied that it wouldn't, you held your finger over the switch for one last moment of anticipation, before flicking it on.

When the vibrations started, a whine escaped your throat. You weren't used to this sensation yet, and it was always unexpected. You breathed deeply for a few moments, collecting yourself, before returning once again to the cubby. Next came the plug.

It wasn't especially large compared to some of the things you've seen online. Nonetheless, it was one of the larger toys you owned, as you couldn't help your curiosity and were trying to build up to something a little bigger. As such, you had to use a pretty generous amount of lube.

Starting with a single finger, you eventually built up to two, and after a few minutes three. You had to apply two additional coatings of lubricant in between, but it was worth it. Your legs were actually shaking as you repeated the process on the plug impatiently, so you leaned forward, one hand braced against the shower wall. Placing the tip of the toy against your entrance you took a deep breath, and pushed it in.

The amount you took on that first push surprised you and you gasped, your ass stretching around the black material with more ease than you were used to. You eased it back out by a few inches, and pushed again. It filled you even more and you moaned, the sound echoing off the ablutionblock tiles. On the third push, the plug slid all the way in, filling you completely.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped. You felt like you couldn’t straighten up, so you reached blindly for the dildo, almost knocking it to the floor before grabbing hold of it. When you looked at your crotch you saw that your bulge was almost stiff with arousal, the bulgering tight around it. As you guided the final toy towards your dripping nook you clenched down on the plug experimentally. A rush of pleasure shot through you and the arm supporting you buckled for a moment. You leaned forward more, supporting yourself with your entire forearm, forehead against the white tiles.

This time, you didn’t bother with lube. You weren’t going to last long in this state, and you needed something in your nook when you came. Unsurprisingly, the dildo slid into your soaked nook easily. Finally completely full, you took a few seconds to just enjoy the feeling. God, you wished you could feel like this all the time. Then you slid the toy back out, the shaft sliding even more smoothly now that it was covered in your arousal. Setting up a steady rhythm was hard with every other point of stimulation distracting you from your motions, but eventually you managed, little noises escaping your mouth every time the dildo slid home.

It felt as if more and more liquid heat pooled in the pit of your stomach. Carefully putting all your weight back on your legs, you used your freed hand to palm at your breast, thumb stroking the soft skin, then taking the nipple between two fingers. You squeezed gently, then pulled a little harder, sparks of pleasure making you increase the pace at which you were fucking your nook.

With all the build-up, it didn’t take very long for the heat in the pit of your stomach to get unbearable. You were on the edge of an orgasm. Increasing your pace even more, you clenched down on the plug that filled you again.

Your come painted the tiles in front of you teal as you buried the dildo all the way in your nook. Hoarse moans escaped your throat as your hips twitched, your orgasm washing over your body. You sank forward again, sweaty forehead hitting the cool tiles, every panting breath fogging them up. You kept fucking yourself with the dildo for a few more seconds, a few more spurts of genemat hitting the shower floor. Then, with a trembling exhale, you slowly pulled the toy out of your nook.

“Fuck,” you said again, heady with post-orgasmic bliss, before a jolt from your now oversensitive bulge reminded you to get the ring off of it. You turned it off and placed it next to the dildo you dropped.

Panting subsiding somewhat, you shakily stepped back under the showerhead and turned the water back on. You reached back to ease the plug out as well, but the moment you touched the base you let it go. You felt too overstimulated, so you decided you’d just leave it in for now. Instead, you slowly and carefully washed the sweat, arousal and come off your body and used the shower gel again to clean up what you’d skipped before.

Finally satisfied, both that you were clean and with an orgasm good enough to hopefully last at least a few days, you put your glasses back on and stepped out of the shower.

You spent the next minute using the showerhead to clean off the embarrassingly large stain you’d left on the wall, as well as the toys, which you left lying in the shower. You’d give them a more thorough wash later. Grabbing a towel off the rack you dried yourself off, then wrapped it around yourself and exited the ablutionblock.

In the kitchen, you filled your cup with water. Taking a sip from it as you browsed the thermal hull for a meal, you were already back to thinking about how much you still had to get done. But the tension was gone from your body, and the only soreness you were feeling was the good kind.

And hey, maybe finding out how much you could get done with a plug still inside you might glean some useful information, you mused with a smile.