M0.9.1 part 1

Yesterday was my birthday. 23 years down the drain, half-assing everything, getting lucky on random or meaningless things from time to time. Life’s not especially bad, but it always felt kinda bland. Still, nothing was mightier than this fucking headache drilling my brain since I woke up.
Yesterday was pretty wild. I can’t even remember how I got home, but I do remember Eric bringing enough alcohol to kill us all a few times over. I think I walked home with him? We probably babbled about porn during the entire trip back. God, I need aspirin. *

I reached for my left jeans pocket and found some Tramadol pills. The perks of having chronic pain. Legal highs were a plus too. But there was also a compact rectangular mass there. A cellphone?
As I gulped down two pills, I slowly started to bring pieces of yesterday's night together. Oh yeah, that's right. It was Eric's phone. This guy was my best friend, I've known him for years, but yesterday was weird. I remembered he was talking about how he had a « relationship » with his… Dog? I guess that's when I told him that there are things he should keep for himself. Forever.
Then I remembered him suddenly being dead serious, taking out his phone, and handing it to me, telling me that he got a new one, and was annoyed to see me using a 10-year old phone. Quite a subtle way to change topic. I accepted it without really thinking about it. For the rest of the trip, he made me promise several times that I wouldn't wipe the phone's memory, or sell it. I couldn't tell if he crossed the « nonsense-drunk-ramble » line or not. At least, he was lucid enough to call a taxi to bring him back home with his new phone.
Still, I planned to give him his old phone back. I never really gave a shit about those fancy new, overpriced pieces of junk. I just needed to give and receive calls, and send text messages.
Just as the thought made its way in my hazy mind, the cellphone vibrated. This managed to drag my attention away from the crippling hangover I was going through.


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10 new messages. All from a contact named « M9 ».
Yesterday, 20:16 - Have fun! Please don’t drink yourself to death.
Yesterday, 20:17 - If the party sucks, you know where to find me. ;)
Yesterday, 20:17 – Or y'know, before you're going to sleep?
Yesterday, 23:10 - <3
Today, 02:39 - Hello?
Today, 02:39 - You must be pissed drunk at that point, we'll talk tomorrow :)
Today, 02:40 - I mean, if you survive the hangover. The Internet says you should drink water, and eat carbs before bed!
Today, 02:52 - Good night~! Can’t wait to meet you tomorrow!
Today, 11:04 – Oh, morning wood much? I know I do now. :)
Today, 12:02 – Maybe you should eat something?

I went up in the conversation, and found a disturbingly high amount of messages coming from that contact, but it seemed Eric replied only a few times. It seemed the latter engaged in sexting with a rather clingy dude a few months ago. That guy was quite expressive about his dick state in his messages.
I always knew Eric wasn't really lucky with girls, just like me, and I thought that at some point he just gave up, but him indulging in gay ERP and bestiality was a big surprise. I couldn't be bothered to judge someone by his fetishes, but such a revelation was really unexpected.

I decided to keep my promise and resist the urge to wipe the phone's memory clean to keep my friend from embarrassing situations, but I definitely had to give him his gift back, at the very least.
But that would have to wait. The tramadol was kicking in, and pain slowly turned into smooth sleepiness. A few more hours of sleep wouldn't kill me. After all, it was “only” noon, on a Saturday. I went back to bed, making sure to set an alarm for 14 :00.


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I was quick to fall in Morpheus' arms. Him and I used to get along well; he made me live a bunch of my fetishes in my dreams. I was no stranger to lucid dreaming, but I didn’t really keep practicing after I managed to experience my first fully controlled dreams. Still, sometimes, I could go through pretty vivid dreams, probably a leftover from my previous training.
This was one of them.
I "woke up" in my bed, light-headed and somehow tired. I soon felt clawed hands running up my legs, caressing my calves, going up my thighs, and stopping at my hips, delicately, yet firmly grabbing them. The soft sensation of warm fur against my skin appeared as the hands explored their way on my lower body. The creature crawled its way up, stopping halfway, as it was still hidden under the bedsheets.
My underwear gained a few degrees, as I could notice a genuinely hot breath gently being blown on it, while a pair of firm furry breasts squeezed on my legs, with the distinctive feeling of hard nipples poking at my skin.
*Great. Lucid furry sex dream. It’s been a while since the last one.*

A thick, heavy mass, which I assumed to be the girl’s tongue, rubbed against the growing bulge of my underwear, before pointy sharp teeth landed a playful nibble on it.
Her hands released their grip, her fingers slipping under my boxers’ elastane, pulling it down entirely with a swift move.
Now completely naked, laying on my back, I felt her pushing my knees outward, spreading my legs so she could have a more comfortable pose, and better access to the object of her lust.

I could feel her hot breath yet again, but on my skin this time. A pleasure shiver ran down my spine, as I knew what was coming next.
I reached for the bedsheets with the intent to uncover her head and allow her to breathe fresh air, but her hand appeared and grabbed my wrist with disturbing speed and strength. She kept restraining my arm for a second, before I felt her warm, wet tongue landing on my perineum, slowly slithering its way up, coiling around my scrotum only to end its journey at the tip of my penis.
Her grip loosened when she felt my muscles relaxing; her hand reached for mine, her clawed fingers finding their way between mine in a tender embrace. I could notice her inner hand and fingers were rather rough and furless, just like paw pads.
The girl’s tongue repeated its assaults, teasing me further with her warm breath and what I perceived as a whispered, faint feminine panting.

I decided to play by her rules, and slowly slid my other hand under the covers. Fighting against a lucid dream rarely ends well. As I felt her fingers sliding between mine and firmly grabbing my palm, she coiled her tongue around my dick. I felt overwhelmed by an unexpectedly long, soft, and powerful wet muscle, hungrily rubbing against every inch of my genitals.

She kept going for a while. As pleasurable as it was, I felt a bit frustrated as I could only see her arms, covered in soft black fur, coming out from under the grey bedsheets to hold my hands in a tight, passionate way. Under the sheets, her head was slowly tilting from side to side, the angle depending on her obviously skilled tongue’s target.
At this very moment, just as the frustration poked my mind, one of her hands let go of mine, softly grabbed by wrist, and paused for a few seconds, while she was still working her tongue against my sensitive zones. It felt like she was hesitating.
She finally led my hand under the bedsheets, towards her head. Instead of fur, my fingers met a smooth, hard, yet uncommonly warm material.

Bone? Did my twisted brain chose to make me dream of getting a blown by some sort of Cubone girl? Well that was original.
I gave in and caressed her head, unable to refrain a moan. At the back of her skull, my fingertips met fur again. She probably mistook my hand positioning, thinking I would push her head towards my groin, since she took my dick directly inside her throat, going as far as she could without hurting me with her sharp teeth.
Her jaw had to adopt a disturbingly wide angle to be able to bring her throat to the very base of my penis, but the pleasure was too overwhelming for me to think about it. Even though she was still firmly and passionately holding my left hand, her claws slightly bruising my skin, I noticed one of her hands was missing, as her lower body started humping the end of my bed.
With her movements, the sheets covering her rear moved away, only to reveal a large, black fluffy tail, slowly moving left to right as her humps became slightly faster.
Even though her tail was hiding most of it, I could see a hint of round-shaped, slightly muscular buttcheeks.

Her throat was heavenly. It felt like her gullet itself was gently sucking on my dick; she was squeezing her throat muscles with an incredible precision, bathing my penis in thick, noticeably warm saliva.
Aside from the massage her throat muscles provided me with, she was slowly moving her head from side to side and back and forth, her teeth leaving small cuts on my groin. The pain was immediately replaced by pleasure, as pressure was building up in my entire body.

"Come on, I’m on the edge!"
A female whisper resonated in my mind. The voice was soft and unsettlingly sensual, yet had some strength in it, even though it was a whisper. There was something odd in its tone, like if she was trying to shout the words, while still whispering.
My mind lost its focus when I felt her tongue coiling around my balls, with the tip stimulating my perineum.

Like if she knew what was about to happen, the girl under the bedsheets pushed her head as far as she could between my legs, effectively hilting the base of my penis with her throat, trying to gulp down my entire cock. At this point, her jaw must have had an even more unnatural angle.
As I blew my load directly in her stomach, I could feel her entire body contracting, as my hand felt like it was torn apart by her sudden deathgrip.

We were obviously both climaxing.

When our bodies became less tense, and after she made sure she catched every single drop of my semen inside her throat, her head slowly backed away, freeing my dick from the hot heaven that was her throat. I heard her let out a slight satisfied chuckle, as her breath reached my skin again. I suddenly realized I spent several minutes inside her throat, probably obstructing her windpipe, but she didn’t seem to care.
Her left hand, which disappeared to pleasure herself a few minutes before, resurfaced from under the bedsheets and reached for my torso. It was covered in thick, warm liquid, reminiscent of semen, which left a trickle as her caress went from my torso to my leg.
She gave me a last passionate lick before slowly retreating back, taking the bedsheets with her, disappearing behind the other end of my bed.

"Thank you."
What I assumed to be her voice resonated again in my head. It was still a whisper, still had this odd tone to it, but this time her voice felt like she was slightly panting.

Satisfied, I decided to end the dream by going back to sleep. There was nothing more I could ask for.


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I was soon woken up by the phone’s alarm clock, a generic relaxing music.
It took me a few seconds to notice I was completely naked. Odd.
Raising up, I soon realized my mattress cover had wet spots around my crotch. It seemed logical, considering the nature of the dream I had.
My attention shifted to a larger stain at the other end of the bed. As I stared at it, I reached for my torso: that liquid the girl left in my dream was there.

The phone alarm was still ringing. I reached for it, and noticed fresh cuts on the back of my hand. My eyes widened, as I was slowly overrun with doubts.
I turned the alarm off. The clock was showing 12:34, roughly 20 minutes after I went to sleep. I then received a text message the next second. From M9.

Today, 12:34 - Nice to meet you! ;)