Daydreaming

By: David Ihnen

CREATED2006-05-22
RATINGAdult
Times viewed
This story is Copyright by David Ihnen. Please do not distribute without permission.

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He could see.

The large hindpaws pressed into the rich loam of the floor debris, damp and soft. The claws pressed deeper, shiny and black, penetrating to the firmer earth beneath. They flexed rythmically as the being rocked forward and back, shifting its weight. The digitigrade ankles thrust back in tendoned points, covered in soft grey fur. Flecks of forest debris clung to the soft fuzziness. The fur bulged over the powerful calf muscles, easily supporting the weight. The fur thickened, softening the knee into a graceful curve, the slab of the thigh an expanse of soft, warm fur. It did not quite hide the thick bulge of testes, swinging counterpoint to the movement, overflowing the space between his legs. The thigh muscles rippled as he moved, the highlights of the fur shifting over the bands.

The round curve of the ass flowed from the thigh, bulbous despite the thick fur obscuring its details. The tail was raised high, a dark-skinned star the first visible flesh. The short fur surrounding it thickened around a curled tail, wagging mildly as its owner moved. The tip brushed his well porportioned back, narrow hips flaring up to broad powerful shoulders. His high domed head was framed by two soft, round ears. Normally they would stand out diagonally, but they were pulled down and back, creasing to create an expression of intensity. A thick-furred and even thicker muscled arm extended above to hold a branch in long, claw-tipped fingers. The hand alone, the back covered in short, soft fur, remained still as the body rocked. The blunt, shiny black claws clenched into the bark, shreding small furrows to where they now lay tense.

The high forehead reigned over large eyes, lids half-closed as the muzzle tilted up. The mouth was open, a pink tongue lolling out the side, breath coming in a moderate pant. The muzzle was short, whiskered with bristly white strands thrusting from the short fur. The skin of the flews was dark black, glistening with moisture. Strong sharp teeth lined the muzzle, thick canines almost touching the lower lips as breath flowed.

The chest rose and fell with his breath, the breath of exertion speeding the flows. Thick pecs bulged the fur, interrupted only for a pair of thick nipples. Its texture ruffled around his muscles, the left raised with the arm holding the tree, fur texture moving as he rocked. His stomach trembled in tension, moving with his breath and flexing with the rocking. His left arm, biceps thick under the fur, flexed rythmically in double time to the rocking. The forearm rippled with tension and movement, the fuzz-backed hand stroking, tickling the thick crumple of fur and flesh that sheathed the stem of his cock before sliding over the bulge and towards the tip.

He could smell.

It glistened in the light beneath the forest canopy, emanating a deep, musky scent. The phallus smelled powerful with pheromones. There was the tinge of the sharpness of exertion. The scent of arousal and lust, filling the forest air. He could smell the air too, the woody fibrousness of the clawed bark beneath the claws. The rich scent of rotting vegetation stirred underfoot. There was the earthy smell of mushrooms nearby. The scent of his paws, the dry, warm ME scent, mixing with the bark on the tree and the loam underfoot. And the musk of his sex on his paw.

He could feel.

He could feel the soft debris underfoot, the pressure on his claws as the pressed the harder surface beneath. The clinging of bits of twig near his ankle. He could feel the tension of his calves, his thighs, supporting him. He could feel the ruffle of his inner thigh fur against his heavy scrotum, moving against his flexing. The cool breath of air against his skin where his summer fur flexed against his movement. He could feel the muslces of his tail, swaying back and forth, the tip brushing his back. He could feel his back where the tip brushed it, tickling the fur almost like a bug. Fur barely tickling the thick nipples that protruded, standing out in prickles of arousal from his thick pecs. He could feel the warm breath rushing in and out of his muzzle, the blessed coolness of his lolled tongue. He moistened and lolled it again, savoring the faintest echos of the scents of the forest on it. He could feel his shoulders working, one holding him in place, the other stroking. The hot moisture on his paw, the thickness of his phallus within it.

But most of all he could feel the need burning in his balls, the aching fullness that begged to be released. He stroked intently, feeling the glow of pleasure grow. From a tiny kernel deep in his loins, swelling, growing. Ever so slowly, every so joyfully. It felt so good. The glow grew, filling his loins, encompassing his balls, straining to expand down his phallus. In his excitement, he pulled himself up hard, and his shaft bounced between his pecs. He felt the spray of precum catch in the fur of his neck. Again, and again he bounced his massive arousal. The glow started extending...

*BZZZZOONKKKKK* a klaxon sounded.

Steve sat bolt upright in the acccleration chair in time to see the ship disintegrate around him. His last concious thought was 'Oh Shit' as the console crushed him diagonally across the torso.

---

[It wakes]

*thudathuda...thudathuda...*

Steve could hear, could feel his hearts beating.

That wasn't right. Wasn't it supposed to go... thuthump?

*thudathuda...thudathuda...*

Hearts?

[We did not know you had only one.]

Steve twitched. He could move. He opened his eyes. A large-eyed, short-muzzled morphic husky stood nearby looking at him. He looked friendly.

[Do not be afraid. It is the unthinkable moral offense to intentionally harm any]

Steve stared wildly about. They were in a forest. The ground was thick beneath his feet. He could smell everything. Himself, the woods, the others. The sun shown through the trees, spots of blue sky visible through the canopy. Two other almost identical morphic huskies stood to the other side of him, also looking unoffensive and friendly.

"What the fuck? Where am I?" he sputtered, "And who the hell are you?"

He crouched at the ready, eyes darting between them.

[A poor similitude, do forgive. We hoped the familiar surroundings would soften the impact.]

He could tell the third was talking to him, but he couldn't hear anything.

He felt a surge of anger. "STOP APOLOGIZING AND TELL ME WHATS GOING ON!" he shouted.

It came all at once, in the space of half a second.

Ship traveling through space. Obstruction detected, insignificant. Unexpected sentience found within, but too late to maneuver. The utter horror at having killed. Image of the remnants of his body, by some miracle his brain not destroyed, but the rest of him crushed, burned, and half frozen mush. Putting him in a [biological organism support nonsentient?] Using his self-awareness percieved by [second husky individual] to recreate his appearance. Making the forest to ease his awaking.

"Whu?" Steve blinked, clearing the images from his vision. "You... me... "

He looked down at himself. He was every bit the perfect husky he had been imagining. From his shiny black claws, the thick weight of his balls filling the space between his legs, the thick ridge of fuzz encasing his cock, the thick muscles of his arms and chest. He could feel it. It was him as he had daydreamed so much. He put his paw to his muzzle and smiled.

[confusion - this is not what you expected - this is what we felt - this is what you were]

Steve shook his head. "No, its okay." he said. The ship. "The others?" he asked the huskies, desperately. He looked around, trying to peer through the trees. "Where are the others?" he demanded

They looked at each other, heads tilting quizically. [No other sentients.]

"Yes there were!" he shouted, almost hysterical, "In the tanks! In stasis!" He forced the image in his head of the miles of corridors lined with tanks, thrusting it at these others with his head somehow. "THEM!"

[great consternation and sadness, helplessness, horror and bleakness at the tragedy of loss]

He sunk to his knees, tears leaking from his eyes, a wretched howl escaping his muzzle. He had lost his family, all those on the ship. Only he survived.

They came to him there, kneeling about him on the forest floor, crying along with him, their fuzzy bodies warm and strong, hugging and supporting him.

[with you we do share this loss and grief]

They did too. He could feel them feeling it. They all cried together for the lost.


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