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From: g l o o m y r o o <bartolomaeo@hotmail.com>
Newsgroups: fur.stories.misc
Subject: fur .. my soft body/mind
Date: Tue, 12 Aug 2003 04:43:50 -0400
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===================
this story contains graphic violence and language,as well as sexual
situations, but NO EROTICA.
this story is meta-fiction/anti-fiction, and therefore must be read as such
(see Ronald Sukenick or FLCL).
i decided to post this story here, not stories.erotica, because i see this
particular group as a place for intelligent writing, where as i see
stories.erotica as a group for.... erotica.
please do not rewrite the story in any way, as has been done to my writing
in the past to make it more 'accessible' to a mass audience of numbskulls.
my writing is not for mass consumption.
i hope you enjoy it.
feel free to share your comments, as i quite like comments.
My Soft Body/Mind
By gloomwolfe
Very quickly, I realized that I had a problem urgent in form. The initial
occurrence had taken place while I was sitting idly at my place of work.
It was a calendar kiosk in a mall. I would sit and read there. We had few
customers, very boring, tedium. Straighten, ring customer, clock watch,
sleepy. Meandering crowds wandered aimlessly by constantly, occasionally
smiling and pointing at the cute puppy calendars, their voices going up an
octave, then continue on their way, pondering what next to spend their money
on.
I enjoyed fancying the idea that I was selling not calendars, but time, as
in minutes, days, etc.. a year of time was only around twelve dollars
ninety-nine cents (plus tax). That's only a dollar twelve cents a month.
Still people complained of prices. Everybody wants time, and they want it
for free.
The kiosk was a representation of (time = money) or (time = 12.99). Plus
tax of course. And in this sense, the government even taxed time itself.
However, these stray thoughts had nothing to do with my predicament.
I was reading as usual at my tall kiosk stool, like a museum piece on
display. I was reading Omzaic Nam by Rondal Sunekick, and had concluded the
chapter I was perusing. I put the book down to take a break from it, and
noticed a man most peculiar observing the football calendars. This man had
a wolf's head, which I thought to be pretty incredibly strange. Further
more, he was touching the calendar with his fingers, and simultaneously
massaging his groin. His hand (paw?) was actually reaching down his pants.
I was shocked, almost into laughter.
But what made this odd situation cross the line into the realm of
unthinkable bizarre occurrences was the fact that the people walking by this
wolf-head person seemed to me to be very, intensely attracted to him. They
turned their heads and ogled his face and fur, his chest, his ass and tail.
One woman was seen to smile such an obscenely sexual grin that I thought
momentarily that she may reach her hand down his pants as well.
People began to look at calendars as an excuse to stand near him. He was
very polite, nodded at those who made eye contact with him, said 'excuse me'
to those who accidentally bumped into him.
The way he was acting was as if he weren't doing anything odd at all, and
that he himself was not odd at all, and the crowd of persons that now
surrounded him was acting as if nothing odd was going on at all. It was all
very… odd.
Momentarily he retrieved his hand (paw?) from his jeans and began walking
towards me. I suddenly became exceedingly nervous. I quickly looked back
down at my book and pretended to read as sudden beads of sweat formed,
dropped, tapped onto the pages I was blankly staring at. They tapped a tiny
notch in my brain for which to echo.
The wolf-head man stopped in front of me, spoke. "Nice football calendars
you got." He said it pleasantly in a kind and average voice.
"Ah," I said, choking on saliva and syllables.
He continued. "Football players just turn me right on." He made a gesture
to the tense pyramid of his jeans over his privates. "See?"
I glanced barely, nervously, awkwardly, nodded equally so.
Then he said, "Hey, you've got wolf eyes too.
Later at home I noticed that I indeed had somehow obtained wolf's eyes.
The next time that I experienced the problem was when I was visiting one of
my friends in Belgium. His name was Hansel, and he owned an airport.
We were walking along the runway smoking cigarettes. Hansel was a strange
sort. He seemed to immensely enjoy discussing his sex life. I'm not
entirely sure why I had him as a friend, as I am usually not acquainted with
individuals like Hansel. But since he lived very far away, and was very
kind and not at all vulgar, even when discussing his sex life, I somewhat
enjoyed his company. He also amused me.
"Truthfully, I am at a loss to speak," he was saying, as we walked, smoked.
"I've never seen such a man before." He shook his head. "Wolf-head man,
you say?" He spoke English well.
I nodded, exhaled smoke. "Yes, it was quite strange. And now I have these
wolf eyes."
He looked thoughtful for a moment.
We walked until we reached a small table at the end of the runway. There
were chairs around it, and coffee in a thermos. We had a seat, he poured
two cups, sipped, warm.
"I have something to say, but I must wait a moment before I say it,"
Obtuse. He faced the runway on which a plane rested on the far end,
awaiting takeoff.
Hansel did this every time I visited him. It was easy to tell why once he
had told me why, but before he had told me why I would always ask my self,
why (?).
The reason he did this was because that in every plane that took off, he
would literally see himself. It was why he wanted an airport in the first
place. As the airplane screamed directly over us, desperately close, we saw
Hansel on the plane from one of the windows. He was looking at us, smiling.
The airplane-Hansel waved, as did we.
When I looked back at non-airplane-Hansel he appeared to be incredibly
amused. "Oh, what a mystery," he said, laughing. He enjoyed the fact that
the mystery was in existence, and had no plans or desire to solve it. He
enjoyed complicated things in a simple way. This is probably the
subconscious reason why I visited him. Of course, he made things worse.
"Let me tell you something," he said. "The reason I sit out here has more
to do with my sense of accomplishment than it has to do with what we just
saw. Do you see how that applies to your problem?"
I stammered. "Um."
"Listen," he said. "Those wolf eyes and ears have less to do with the fact
that they are there, than they have to do with something else."
"Ears?" I nervously felt about my head. They were there, I could feel,
two wolf ears. I felt them with my fingers. When I touched them my spine
became excited in a vaguely erotic way. I immediately put my hands in my
lap.
"As far as I'm concerned," he said, leaning back in his chair, smoking,
"you've always had a wolf's head." He shook his head. "Not literally, I
mean. What I mean is, if you had a wolf's head, it wouldn't seem all that
terribly inappropriate."
I left directly. I should have known that Hansel wouldn't be any help. He
was a madman. In that sort of philosopher's way. Poignantly mad. Not
realistically helpful in an immediate way. When I got home I called my
boss, told that "I'm going to be in for a while."
"Why?" he asked.
"Um, I got West Nile Virus. The doctors want to quarantine me for a few
weeks."
"Oh my goodness! Please stay home and get better then." Pause. "Has your
skull filled with water?"
"No, no."
"Oh, that's good." Sounded disappointed. "Do you have a dog?"
What? "Um, no."
"Oh, it's just I keep hearing this growling. I keep hearing this growling
when you talk."
Shit. "Hm… must be static. I'm on a cell phone." In actuality I was
sitting in my bathroom, in the bathtub, empty, with no clothes on and the
air conditioner on full blast. By this time my body was entirely covered in
fur and I was hot as that giant fiery sphere that this planet revolves
around.
I hung up the phone. I decided to stay at home for a few weeks, but I
needed food and video games to pass the time. I figured that this would go
away after with time. Thought about buying a calendar.
I went to the grocery store. I had to put on some long pants and a sweater
with a hood to hide myself. I found that I couldn't wear underwear because
after a few minutes it cut off the circulation to my tail. So I angrily (7)
stuffed it down my pants and left.
I was sweltering in the grocery store. Long sleeved sweater, pants, fur,
summer, sweating like a glass of ice water. I kept pretending to look in
the freezers to cool off. Didn't have much money, so I picked up some soup,
tuna, can of dog food as some sort of macabre joke to myself.
I got to the register, express isle, had to get out, woman in front of me
caught a glimpse of my face in the lights. I could tell because she blushed
hotly and averted her eyes, then kept glancing down at my crotch. I feigned
not to notice, but then I felt someone brush against me slightly from
behind. It was another woman, this one trying to be as utterly sultry as
she was able, and doing an excellent job.
Suddenly it felt twenty degrees hotter. Began to breath quickly to cool
off, then noticed I was panting, tongue lolling out, probably cute. The
women around me began making little 'ooh' and 'mm' sounds, as if to say
[that's who I'll imagine tonight when my husband and I have sex]. Infernal,
scant dizziness.
What was worse was that I couldn't keep myself from panting, and my tail
started wagging fiercely. I got so nervous, tense that I ran out of the
store with my items, neglecting to pay. As I ran I heard the women laugh
and yell 'bye' at me and start talking that guy and did you see that hot guy
and did you SEE him?
I jumped on my bike, threw my items in the handle basket, didn't notice my
hood had slipped off while running. The girls on the street huddled,
surrounded, swarmed about me very suddenly, all attempting to be the most
attractive and sexual and easy. They shuffled about and enclosed me, made
me hotter, couldn't stop this damn panting, and now it was the heat of the
sun and the chaotic chattering of the mass of women giving me the fear (7).
I remained calm on the shell, smiled and tried to speak to them. "Sorry, I
'm sorry, in a rush, have to go," but they didn't hear me or didn't choose
to hear me. I tried to wedge my way out, and I felt one of them grab my
arm, then another, my leg, my shoulder, hand, neck, ass, EARS!
I screamed (barked?) and shoved my way out of the crowd, but they started
chasing me frantically down the street, screaming at me, screaming with
excitement. I felt like John, Paul, George, and Ringo rolled up and put
into one body. I ran, ran, ran down the street, only vaguely realizing that
I hadn't remembered my food or bike. I turned a corner into a more crowded
street, which was a mistake because the rambling pedestrians therein were
quickly assimilated into the mob that was chasing me.
Only now, the crowd was getting violent. The slower women were being
viscously shoved aside. Some of them were getting horrifically crushed by
the hundreds of feet pursuing me. Over my shoulder I witnessed one woman
get pushed into a window, glass shattering and easily slicing skin, another
was tripped and she careened into a telephone pole, smashing he face
brutally.
Indeed, in addition to chasing me they were now purposefully trying to
attack and maim each other. It was harsh, hand to hand punching and
kicking, flailing. One woman tackled another, and bit gruesomely into her
scalp, blood on her lips and teeth.
The screams were becoming horrific, blood curdling, gun shots, more
screams. I stopped running, finally, panting like a …dog. I saw hundreds
of women, grabbing each other, punching kidneys, kicking necks, crushing
hands, smashing faces with bricks, stabbing with broken glass and knives,
killing with whatever was in their immediate vicinity, attacking even the
already mutilated corpses. It was a distilled essence, obvious and real.
I leapt into an alley. My tail inside my pants would not stop wagging,
some part of me loved this, but was it my innate hatred of women or my
secret ecstatic hysteria at seeing hundreds of women kill each other just to
fuck (7) me?
I managed to sneak back to my apartment by taking alleys the rest of the
way home. I got inside, locked the door, shut all the blinds, went to
bathroom, took off clothes, got in bathtub again, this time turned on the
cold water. I didn't care about dog smell anymore.
The chill water cooled my brain. I decided to just stay here for a while,
order a pizza when it got late.
I stretched out in the tub, finally relaxing, comfortable, noticed I had an
obscene erection. "Hmm," I thought out loud, touched my ears without
thinking about it, made my muscles and spine tense.
The phone suddenly rang and made me jump, hit my head, hard. I rubbed my
head and got out, turned off the water, threw on a towel. I walked out and
answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey," I heard on the other side of the line.
"You!" I yelled, almost barking. I recognized the voice as the wolf-head
man.
I heard him moan. "Ooh."
"What did you do!?" I screamed at him, but it just sounded like barks, like
a dog barking.
"Oh my God, you are so fucking hot."
"Fuck you! (bark, bark)"
"I wanna fuck you!" he yelled it. "I want to fuck me!"
All I could do was bark into the phone and listen to him say 'I wanna fuck
me' over and over again, and all I could do was bark.
He stopped and said, "Your dick is so hard!"
I jumped back, felt a hand on my penis.
"What was that?" No longer barking.
I heard two voices on the phone speak at once, "You/I just touched your/my
hot rod."
Hot rod? Vulgar son of a bitch. "Fuck this!" Felt a warm, slippery,
sliding (7) across my sex organ.
I screamed and heard the voices on the phone, "Mmmm/Mmmm," in a sticky,
dirty way.
I slammed down the receiver, and the feeling was gone.
A few weeks later I was still a wolf-man. I called Hansel.
"Get a helicopter, get me out of here!" I was frantic. I had run out of
food and money two days before, and gotten a message from my boss saying
that he had to let me go. I'd been in my bathroom the past four days,
sulking in the bathtub, going mad with ennui. The whole time I had the
massive erection that just would not go away no matter what I did.
"That sounds terrible," he said, "but there's no way I can get a plane or
helicopter to you, what with the madness."
What the hell is he talking about? "What?"
"The madness that engulfed America. Don't you watch the news?"
"The TV hasn't been working…"
I somehow heard him shrug. "No one to run the stations."
"Can I call you back?"
I'd been afraid to look out the window, on account someone might see me, so
when I looked now it was the first time that I noticed there wasn't a single
solitary person in the streets. Just parked cars and fluttering debris.
Which is a very scary thing when you live in the middle of a large, bustling
city the size of New York.
I became incredibly uneasy, had the feeling that the entire population was
waiting quietly, secretly, outside my door. Just to make sure I looked
through the peephole, but the hallway was also barren.
I called Hansel back.
"Hello?"
"It's me," I said, delirious. "Look, someone is after me, I think it's
another me. I'm not sure. He looks like me…" I trailed off, and then…
I'm not sure what happened, I was panicking, dizzy, I think I passed out,
but when I regained cognizance I was aboard Hansel's helicopter. We were
fluttering over the city.
"How did I get here?" Looked about, eyes darting.
Hansel just laughed. "I guess you passed out on the phone. I flew over to
make sure you were okay." He lowered altitude, swung it right, sharply,
avoided a building. "When I got to your place there was this guy there, the
wolf-head man…" He stopped speaking.
"What?" I grabbed his arm.
He stammered some, "He was…ah…"
"What!?"
He didn't speak.
"What was he doing!!?"
Didn't speak.
"Hansel!!" Shook his arm (7).
"Fine!" he threw my hand off. "He was swallowing you. Swallowing you
whole. When I got there you were already half way down his throat, feet
first."
"Jesus (bark)!"
He made an odd face.
"Well, what did you do?"
"I took out my pistol and shot at him, but I was pretty shocked, and I just
grazed him." He shuddered. "He vomited you up along with a grotesque
amount of mucousy, white fluid or bile or something…"
He paused.
"Then what?" I was exasperated and tired, scared, trembling, looking about
and noticing that Hansel didn't seem his usual self. He kept looking at me
in a strange manner. Like he was hiding something, anger, no, something
else. He kept glancing at my groin, which I just noticed was entirely
exposed.
He continued. "I, uh, I carried you to the roof."
"What about the other guy?"
"He pushed me aside and ran out, screaming. Something like 'I'm just trying
to get rid of it'."
I saw something outside the helicopter, something in the city. "What the
hell is that?" Trembling madly.
"The madness."
What appeared at first to be an undulating, pinkish red mass with waved
slowly cascading down it's gelatinous surface, absorbing buildings, cars,
anything it touched, was actually (I noticed as we approached it) a mass of
naked throbbing human beings clinging to each other. They were covered in
blood, as were the streets surrounding them. No doubt the people in the
center of the bizarre and surreal mound were dead and being crushed into a
grimy paste by the weight of the mass. It reached toward the helicopter as
we neared it.
Hansel pulled up on the controls, we lifted away from the mindless grasping.
"They're… It's after you, isn't it?" Hansel switched on auto-pilot, turned
toward me.
"I… I don't know… or…"
My tail was wagging again.
He stood and walked approached me. He stood over me, dominant.
"He's after that," he motioned downward with his eyes. "Just get rid of
it!" he yelled, and then punched me suddenly in the stomach. I gasped
sharply, fell on my side. He pushed me onto my back, hard. "Just get rid
of it!"
I then violently vomited, my stomach cramping painfully, tears in my eyes,
convulsed again and out came, somehow, my doppelganger. Out he came, flat
on top of me, pinned me to the ground. He started yelling, "I'm mine!
Mine! Only mine!"
Hansel was yelling back, "You're a fucking dog! A fucking animal! You're a
fucking animal!! YOU FUCKING ANIMAL!!"
The doppelganger stood, grabbed Hansel, bit him (7), enclosing his head in
his jaws. I heard him scream and he starting flailing, shaking, epileptic.
The wolf-head man growled and tightened his jaw, and a snap was heard, blood
spattered on the window behind his head, Hansel motionless, skull cracked
clean vertically, unclean.
The doppelganger dropped the corpse on the floor, then began screaming,
gouging at the body (7) with his claws, tearing flesh, ribs snapped like
twigs, blood.
He suddenly turned and pinned me again, face to face, covered in blood,
squirming (7), rubbing against me(7), hand squeezing my genitals(7), hot
blood breathe, bit my ears, "Fuck me you dog, fuck me! FUCK ME!"
We did, but first we ate Hansel(7).
(7)(7)(7)(7).
End.