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Weresheep Thing

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A massive yawn made its way from Jacob's lips and into the crisp evening air. He'd expected to clear things up a little earlier, but between shuffling around the haybales and tending to the horses it seemed that time had gotten away from him. Good thing they'd had a big lunch. He hucked the last bale onto the pile and stretched his tired arms.

One hard day's work, done. Now to go find his reward. Where was that little fuzzball at?

Jacob plodded off towards the pasture where he'd last seen her. She had a tendency to doze off if left unsupervised, but he could hardly blame her given what she was. Besides, she put in good work when she was awake. She was too precious to get mad at, anyway. 

As he rounded the corner, a pile of snoozing fur and wool caught his eye under the edge of the barn's roof. A smile creased his face. Doleah was snoozing, alright, but she wasn't the only one; a number of animals had congregated around the lightly snoring weresheep, and all of them looked like they were as unconscious as she was. The massive form of one of their mares was situated right next to her, the horse's head resting in Doleah's lap while an actual sheep had squeezed itself between the two of them. Finally, their sheepdog had positioned himself on the weresheep's other side with his body pressed against her wool. 

So much for keeping the sheep where they ought to be. Lazy mutt.

Jacob knelt down in front of the sleeping creatures, taking care not to fall into the snooze-pile lest he fall asleep as well. The sheepdog was the first to rouse himself, slowly raising himself up and wandering off to find somewhere else to nap. Gradually, the rest of the heap woke up as Jacob gently shook his wife's shoulder.

"Whaaa….hmmmmm….whaz goin' on?" His wife's slurred question ended in a sleepy yawn that shook the sheep and mare awake. Both looked mildly displeased at being woken up, though some behind-the-ear scratching placated the two of them. Funny how that trick worked so well on both the animals and his wife.

"You fell asleep, lazybones," he said quietly, the smile on his face creeping into his tone of voice. "Seems like you weren't the only one, either. What a bad influence you are."

Doleah finally sat up, stretching her arms as the animals wandered off. She looked even sleepier than normal, struggling to actually open her eyes and stand up. 

"Mmmm. Are we done for the day?", she asked, wiping some dirt from her overalls.

"Yup. Well, besides bringing those two back," Jacob replied. He gestured to the retreating sheep and mare they had just disturbed.

"Oh, well that's not so bad. We just have to do that, 'n then…"

Another yawn escaped from the weresheep as she half-leaned, half-collapsed onto her husband. A wave of drowsiness crashed into him as his skin brushed against Doleah's soft, off-white wool. Suddenly he was in a pitched struggle just to stay upright and awake.

"Woah, woah," he said, fighting off the urge to embrace his wife, spill over onto the ground, and sleep until morning came. He gently pushed his wife upright and apart from him until she was back to standing on her own.

Now that he got a good look at her, he could see why Doleah had become so sleep-inducing. Her wool was, well… she could put an actual sheep to shame in some places. The fluffy growth on her lower legs and forearms contrasted with her bare skin and overalls to the point where she looked like a poodle. The stuff had grown out pretty far past the point where he'd ordinarily draw the line. That must be why they'd got such a late start today- her wool had kept him in bed.

"Doll, honey… I think it's about time."

Even as sleepy as she was, the overly-wooly weresheep managed to give him a confused look.

"What do y'mean? Time for wut?" 

He fixed her with a determined stare. Trying to wrangle her into this was never easy.

"You need to be sheared, Doleah."

For a second she didn't move or react at all, but soon her eyes widened in a surprising display of alertness. She started shaking her head and gesturing in what Jacob assumed was supposed to be a defensive manner.

"Oh, that's not- we can wait another week or so. A f-few days, at least. It's been longer than it is now," she said, trying to sound nonchalant despite her obvious panicking. The fact she'd lost the drowsy slur to her voice, as well as her now entirely-open eyes, indicated that the thought of being sheared was probably the one and only thing that could keep her properly awake and alert at the moment.

"It was longer than this once, Doleah, and that was back before I knew better. I'm not gonna spend another whole four days asleep."

"It's fine! It's fine. You don't have to cut it. Trust me, honey- I know when you should do it, and now's not the time," she said quickly, her voice rising in pitch.

"You were having your own little snooze party when I found you, Doll. Hell, you nearly knocked me out when you leaned on me."

"You're just tired! We both are! We had a long day!" Her eyes were darting back and forth now. She was trying desperately to come up with some kind of excuse to worm her way out of what was coming, but Jacob wasn't having it. He moved a hand up to one of her ears, doing his best to avoid the narcoleptic wool, and started scratching in much the same way he had for the animals a few minutes earlier.

"Honey, look at yourself. You know it's time. I promise I'll give you a nice, long back rub when we're all done."

"We both know we'll be too busy for that," she pouted, seemingly having realized she wasn't getting out of this and therefore resigned herself to moping. She was right, though- shearing her always ended the same way.

"Call it an IOU then. A back rub whenever you want one. Is that okay?"

Doleah gave an adorable, childish 'hmph' and looked down at the ground as he stopped his ear scratching.

"...fine. But you better be extra gentle."

"Of course! When am I not gentle, honey?", he asked, giving his wife a chaste little peck on the forehead. "I'll go get ready in the house. Do you think you can round up the animals?"

"I guess," Doleah said, still keeping her cute pouty tone. She set off towards the barn with a shuffling, reluctant gait.

Jacob shook his head at her and headed towards the house. Doleah was always like this when it was shearing time- moping around and trying to get out of it. She always claimed that being freshly sheared felt 'weird' after having her wool grow out for a while. Still, she always seemed to enjoy the actual act of shearing, as well as what came afterwards. 

The few days after were always fun, too. Jacob would just be working somewhere or other on the farm and Doleah would come up to him with her legs and voice trembling and the lower fabric of her overalls soaked, mumbling requests too quietly to hear. Then he'd bend her over the nearest bench or fence post and, well, handle things. Once they were done she'd apologize, head back to whatever she was doing, and then wobble back over an hour or two later for the same treatment. They tended to get a bit less work done those days.

He swung open the front door of the house, taking off his boots and flinging his overalls and socks into the clothes hamper. Normally they did this in the bathroom- the tile floor made it easier to clean up. The first time he was about to shear Doleah he had suggested doing it in the barn, and had nearly earned himself a slap for doing so. Looking back, maybe that wasn't the most tactful idea he'd ever come up with.

Jacob plucked the electric shears out of a drawer. The thing was smaller than those used for actual sheep, with a slimmer cutting surface and a quieter motor. That meant it took longer to completely shear Doleah, which in turn meant she was always hornier than a jubjub by the time he was done. 

As he smiled at the thought of his wife in such a position, the door to the bathroom opened behind him. Doleah shuffled forward with all the enthusiasm of a woman being led to the gallows.

"There you are, cutie," Jacob purred. His wife kept her head down and remained by the door. "Get everything handled out there?"

She nodded wordlessly, eyes on the floor.

"Good. Why don't you come over here, then?"

Doleah slowly made her way over to him. The clacking sound of her hooves on the tile filled the room until she stood in front of him, still dressed in her dirtied overalls. As he looked at the sheer amount of wool he was about to remove, Jacob wondered if it would've been wise to whip up some coffee to keep himself awake. It was already a struggle not to start napping whenever he had to shear her, and with this much wool to take off…

Too late now. He set his palm against Doleah's cheek and caressed her face, intentionally poking her in the nose a few times to try and cheer her up. Despite her attempts at remaining stoic and pouty, a little smile came onto the weresheep's face as she shooed his finger away.

"Now, Doll, if you put me to sleep doing this then I expect you to wake me up," he said, wagging a finger in his wife's face. "We can't enjoy ourselves afterwards if we're both asleep, hmm?"

"Fine," she mumbled.

"Alright, then. How about we get you out of those clothes?"

Doleah didn't respond, but Jacob started touching her anyway. Her overalls slid downwards until she was left in just a thin shirt and a pair of panties, both coming off quickly despite getting caught for a second in the puffy mass of her wool. When he had thrown all of her clothing in the hamper, Jacob stepped back and admired the woman in front of him. The wool covered up some of her more delicate areas, but she was still a sight to see; meaty but slightly toned legs, breasts just barely covered by wool, and an ass that he found difficult to prevent himself from spanking. Doleah shuffled from hoof to hoof, still avoiding eye contact as she held a hand in front of her groin.

"There's no need for that," Jacob chided, gently taking her wrist and moving the offending hand out of the way. Just seeing her like this was making him feel a little frisky.

A little teasing wouldn't kill her, he decided.

His hand slipped down to her thigh as the other brought her in close for a kiss. Doleah jumped a little at the sudden feeling of his lips on hers, slowly reciprocating as his tongue entered her mouth. His fingers on her thigh began creeping upwards.

"I thought you wanted to shear me," Doleah mumbled out when his tongue wasn't in her mouth.

"We'll get there. Let me just…"

His fingers found what they were looking for, grazing against her outer folds underneath the wool. The weresheep jumped again, but anything she would've said was prevented by the increasingly aggressive kiss Jacob was giving her. She had backed herself up against the bathroom counter, hands gripping the lip as her body was molested.

Without any warning, one of the fingers massaging her outer lips plunged into her. The weresheep's knees turned inward and started shaking, her composure only growing weaker as the finger began to slide out, then back in again. In the quiet of the bathroom the only sounds were Doleah's laboured mewling and the soft, wet shlicking sounds of her being fingered.

Before she could get into things, though, Jacob stopped his ministrations. He finally stopped kissing her, instead choosing to lick his wife's juices off of the digit that had just been inside her.

"Sorry, honey," he said as his tongue lapped up the last of her honeyed fluids. "Seeing you like that, it just…"

"Well, control yourself, please." Her tone gained an edge of annoyance from being revved up and subsequently denied. Jacob smiled apologetically, taking a seat on the floor and gesturing for her to come over. The now hot and bothered weresheep slumped down into his lap, half-laying on him as he embraced her from behind.

"You are," he whispered to her, just barely resisting the urge to bury his face in her wool. The stuff was already trying to pull him down to sleep, but Jacob had done this enough times to know how to keep himself awake when it came time to shear Doleah. The main way of doing so that he’d come up with was simply thinking of what position to fuck her in once he was done. Maybe he’d do doggystyle this time. 

His wife shifted around on him to get more comfortable. He picked up the shears once again and flicked the switch, the buzzing mechanical sound of the motor filling the room. As soon as she heard it, Doleah started squirming in his lap. Jacob squeezed her with his other arm to both reassure her and keep the fidgety weresheep still.

“Relax, Doll. You know this won’t hurt.”

“I know…”

He certainly wasn’t lying about that. The last thing he’d want would be to hurt her; when he had initially started shearing Doleah, he had sprung for the high-tech, gentler tool that he was using now instead of something more industrial. The thing was meant specifically for weresheep, and despite the hefty price tag, the fact it didn’t irritate or nick his wife’s skin was definitely worth it.

That didn’t always translate to her being enthusiastic about getting sheared, though. Jacob took one of her arms in his own. The distribution of her wool was strange- her forearms were covered in their entirety, though she also had a little ring of it above her elbows as well. Probably placed strategically to look the most adorable, if he knew mamono.

The shears started their work, sliding down her soft skin and into the fluffy wool. Doleah’s squirming and quiet moans intensified, and before long he could see the pale skin of her forearm. The moment her wool started to fall off of her, Doleah's moaning took on a different tone.


Jacob smiled and interlocked his fingers with his wife's, both to hold her arm up and to make her squirm some more. It certainly had the desired effect. By the time he had finally sheared the entirety of her arm, Doleah was practically covered in sweat.

"Oh, wow. Look at all that wool, honey! Just from an arm!"

Sure enough, a miniature mountain of fluff had collected on the floor underneath Doleah. She didn't seem to care much about the volume on the floor, though- just what was left on her.

"H-hurry up," she huffed, her eyes squinted and unfocused. Jacob gave a short chuckle.

"So testy. Patience is a virtue, you know."

He was willing to tease her more, but the murderous look his wife gave him in response to his smart-assery convinced him that continuing with the shearing would probably be his best course of action. After picking her other arm up, Jacob let the shears do their work. They buzzed their wY along Doleah's increasingly bare-skinned forearm; where they went, absolutely no wool remained. 

It was always a little weird watching his wife transform from a fluffy narcoleptic to a clean-shaved nympomaniac, but he had done this enough times to appreciate both of her "forms".

Another enormous clump of shorn wool had grown on the floor. When the last strip of downy white was removed from Doleah's arm, she turned and fixed him with a wild-eyed, pleading stare.

"Please," she begged, voice heavy and raw, "please, j-just do me. A quickie. Then you can shear the rest off. Please, honey."

"We both know that if we start now, we won't stop. Just close your eyes and think innocent thoughts, Doll. We'll get there."

That evidently wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. The weresheep made an angry, displeased sound, whining in frustration. It was childishly cute, but Jacob did feel a little guilty. He decided to speed things up a bit.

Doleah thrusted one of her fluffy legs into his lap and went back to a combination of sulking, sweating, and making a puddle on the floor from how aroused she was. Obediently he raised up the limb by her hoof and started shearing. This time he went a little faster, trading his earlier teasing gentleness for a more efficient speed. Still nowhere near as fast as they would shear actual sheep, but then he didn't want to hurt her.

As it turned out, her legs had even more wool than her arms. Doleah's arousal rose exponentially with the piles of fluff on the floor. Where were they even going to put all of it? 

As soon as one leg was finished, Jacob quickly set to work on the next. A sideways glance at Doleah saw she was in no shape for more pleading. Her eyes were screwed shut, her entire body was quivering, and it seemed like she was trying to focus on breathing slowly in order to calm herself. It didn't seem to be working.

The second leg would've been easy, but every so often Doleah would twitch hard enough to throw off the shears. Whether that was just her being ticklish or her brain short-circuiting from being far, far too horny was anyone's guess. Still, he managed to finish the last limb relatively quickly. With all of his wife's leg-wool on the floor, Jacob took the opportunity to run his hands down her smooth legs.

"There we go. Doesn't that feel nice?" 

No response was forthcoming. He turned to look at Doleah and found her a wreck; her eyes were open again, half-lidded as she stared at the wall. A bit of drool hung from the corner of her mouth. The twitching had only grown worse, and now she almost looked like an addict fixing for another hit. Most noticeable, however, was the actual puddle underneath her groin. As he stared he was pretty sure he could hear her fluids dripping down into it.

...Maybe he should finish up. That would probably be best.

All that was left now was a little bit around her breasts, and then the final stretch- the arousal-soaked wool above her nethers. Jacob positioned himself facing her before he started fondling her chest to get the best angle for shearing the boob-wool. Just his fingers lifting and pushing against her breasts seemed to set Doleah off; she writhed and moaned, hoping simultaneously for the stimulation to both stop and continue. It really was amazing how sensitive she became when the wool came off.

Fortunately for her, the amount of the stuff around her breasts was relatively little. Unfortunately for her, this last part was always the worst.

"Just a little bit more, Doll. Then we can do whatever you want."

Doleah didn't respond, given that she was apparently catatonic with lust. He moved his wife onto his lap, the sweat from her skin practically drenching his own the moment they made contact. Jacob found he didn't mind, given that they were about to get a whole lot sweatier. The shears moved down to her navel and grazed the wool there. Between the sweat and her gratuitous natural lubrication, the stuff was so thoroughly soaked that he'd probably have to throw it away instead of using or selling it.

Surprisingly, Doleah didn't freak out when he began removing the wool above her groin. That was a little disconcerting, but at least her lack of movement made it easier to shear her. The wool gradually fell off of her, and in a sense Jacob was sad to see it go. She always looked divine when she was freshly sheared, sure, but there was something about shoving his mouth into her nethers while his face was buried in her sleep inducing wool-bush that was just too comfy.

Oh, well. At least he had Doleah's intense sexual frustration to relieve now.

The last of the wool dropped to the floor, and the shears were turned off. Doleah's heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. Jacob wrapped her in a hug from behind, pressing his lips against her cheek to give her a little peck. 

"All done."

After a few seconds, Doleah shuffled around in his lap until she was facing him. She buried her head in his chest and began butting up against him with her little ram's horns. One of his hands slipped to the back of her head to pat her.

"Oh? What do you want, honey?"


Jacob couldn't help but grin. Her childish behavior was accentuated when she grabbed his shirt and started tugging on it.

"Use your words, Doll. You're a big girl."

"Clothes," she whined, pulling a little harder on his shirt, "off…"

Who was he to deny her? He stopped massaging Doleah's head and pulled his shirt up and off. He had only been wearing underwear under his overalls, leaving him almost as naked as the weresheep pressing herself against him. Despite the fact he was still wearing briefs, she began grinding herself against the bulge in his underwear. The poor thing was so desperate for gratification she couldn't even spare the few seconds it would take to fully strip him.

"Let me get my briefs off," Jacob said, though he wasn't sure she even heard him; she continued to rub herself against his restrained erection with abandon. Sighing, he struggled to move the undergarments down while his wife continued her grinding. 

The moment she felt the skin of his cock, though, Doleah stopped grinding and started furiously slamming herself downwards in an attempt to impale herself on him. She kept on missing, however, no doubt because of how slick and lubed the two of them had become from the waist down. After a few more pitiful attempts at penetration, Jacob had to use his hand to guide himself into her.

With no concern for taking things slowly or easing into it, Doleah enveloped his entire length in just a second. She stayed there for just a moment, an expression of utter relief on her face, before the fucking began in earnest. She was as wet as she had ever been, but her walls felt tighter as well; she always clenched down harder on him after the wool was gone, trying to both provide as much friction as possible and to milk as much of his cum as she could.

The sounds of wet slapping, the repeated 'shlick' of Doleah sinking down onto him, and the moans coming from both of them all combined to create a delightfully lewd back-track to their activities. Jacob steadily sank to the same level as his wife, his earlier teasing disposition replaced by a need to fuck her harder and faster. He grabbed his wife and essentially tackled her to the ground, the two of them coming to rest in the missionary position without stopping their rutting. Doleah didn't seem to mind that she wasn't doing the work now. In fact, the sensation of having her husband take control and use her as he pleased was just what the quivering weresheep needed to reach her climax.

She belted out a sound that was half moan and half shriek, but Jacob paid little heed to her ecstacy. It wasn't like Doleah was going to be satisfied with just one orgasm, anyway. She continued to tighten around him as she came, bringing him closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

"F-faster!", she wailed, urging him on even as she was rocked by the pleasure assaulting her. Jacob was running out of steam, himself- normally they took things a lot slower than this. Even when he sheared her before, his wife wasn't as fuck-hungry as she was now. 

Maybe due to his preoccupation with Doleah's horniness, his climax snuck up on him. One moment he was mesmerized watching his wife's tits bounce, and the next he was drowning in sudden pleasure and releasing what felt like every last drop he had into Doleah- who was evidently grateful for it. When he stopped thrusting to catch his breath, though, she made her displeasure evident.

"No. More! Keep going!", she ordered in a desperate, aggressive tone he'd never heard before.

"Just give me a seco-"

As it turned out, she didn't have a second.

Jacob found himself on his back again, Doleah having both rolled him off her and mounted him again in the time it took to blink. Her movements were less bouncing on his cock and more jackhammering onto it; just how she could be so vigorous after a whole day of manual labor was a mystery, but the intense overstimulation he was receiving right after reaching orgasm prevented him from thinking about much else.

"W-wait, Doll! I need a minute!"

She either didn't hear didn't care. The weresheep continued ramming into his pelvis so hard the sound of wet slapping was all he could hear. Jacob tried to speak a few more times, but all that came out were stuttering moans instead of the intended pleas for his wife to stop.

Another orgasm rocked him at the same time Doleah reached hers. She slowed down just long enough for her to take one deep, shuddering breath, and continued the abuse at a still-faster pace.

The sensation was too much. Jacob was already beat from hauling haybales around all day- choosing today to shear his wife had been a very, very poor decision. He felt exhaustion creeping up on him, and knew she wasn't about to give him a time-out. Out of the corner of his eye, the mountain of  wool he'd sheared from Doleah loomed.

Just as his wife-turned-rapist reached a third screaming orgasm, Jacob reached over, grabbed as much of the fluffy wool as he could, and promptly shoved it into his face. He had only a few fleeting seconds of conciousness before sleep took him- seconds in which Doleah continued to ride on his cock, bouncing up and down without a care in the world. 


Owww. Damn, was he sore. 

Groaning quietly, Jacob opened his eyes to find himself still in the bathroom. To his surprise, he was no longer being sexually assaulted. A disturbingly large puddle had formed on the bathroom floor, a mix of both their fluids left to collect on the tile. Eww. Definitely would have to clean that up.

Not right now, though. Save that for a time when it didn't feel like his pelvis had just lost a boxing match with a minotaur. He looked over to find Doleah face-up and passed out a few feet away from him. She snoozed peacefully in stark contrast to her earlier violence. A trail of what he guessed was his own... substance ran from her groin.

Jacob sighed. That had been a little too much for his tastes. In the future, he would have to shear her before things got this bad again.

He gingerly sidled up to his wife, wrapping an arm around her stomach and pulling her into him. Despite being asleep, Doleah made a happy little 'baa' noise and turned on her side to become the little spoon before they both drifted off to sleep.