I wake up. Oh wait, I did that already today, so holy shit this simulation is way too fucking realistic! ...Dude... The nest like bed underneath me is the softest of silks to my touch. I can taste the air I'm breathing is a little bit like sour cherries. Around me is a room full of cat-men. They're hanging around in a lazy fashion, on furniture much like the silk I'm on. Really acting a lot like furniture them self. Everything is either golden or white, even the cats. A lazy morning sun is basking us in a hug. "Okay,"I say to myself quietly, just slowly taking it in. The sky is a pastel-blue cotton candy cloud perfection. I look at myself. I'm wearing a longsleeves-and-a-turtleneck-bodysuit, woven from soft wool, that hides my ( naked feeling) body's every curve 0%. My hair is braided against my scalp, and oh...Holy shit, I just twitched my ear! I even feel a bit taller than...Myself. Holy shit this is happening! I even have a small stumpy tail.
Amidst a personal crisis one of the cat-men gets up, in his smart white velvet suit, and hands me a list. But he doesn't really hand it to me, but holds to it as I already have my grasp on it, and whispers with a smile:" Ring the bell to receive your mail, brother." He points with his other furry long paw-like hand at a mocha colored bell hanging on his neck. I obviously do what he asks, because -real talk- it seems like fucking fun.
I open a beautiful manilla envelope with an overly flourished seal topped with a silk bow. I bite back a chuckle at the grandiosity of it all.
As I pull out a letter, the postman has already disappeared into the sea of purring brethren.
"Forgot the script- improvise. Feel uncomfortable- think of fruits really intently (test this immediately, when closing the letter). Want to stop or pause the system, including me, - do the same with veggies.
Everything is fake, even the things you feel on your body. Embrace the character. You're safe. Seeyouagain on the other side."
I read it once more, and try the fruit thing. It makes everything but me freeze. In the air floats more instructions, and I test it out, and things unpause. Neat.
I start walking through the room towards an open balcony. It opens to a courtyard full of pastel coloured plants. Nothing really has anything prominently coloured. A pale canvas to paint on.
I make my way through the garden following metal signs telling me what part of campus each road goes to. After a tall row of bushes I emerge onto a small pale blue brick building. A few marble benches on front are occupied by more cat-men. They are deep in hushed conversation, as not to disturb the purring of the white doves. They pay me no mind as I walk past and enter.
An assistant feline behind his desk, tells me to go to the end of the hallway on the third floor, and wait for my turn. I promptly do as told and stand there waiting. The door tells me this is the principal's office. I adjust the garment to fit snugly between my thighs. A big flat clock is ticking on top of the staircase, filling the air with a soft echoey clicking sound. Then I just stare at my feet. I glance at the clock, a minute has passed. My tail wags impatiently, making a soft thump every now and again as it hits the wall behind me. I look at my new feet some more, trying to find a pattern in the pale fur coating.
The door opens, and without lifting my eyes, carefully in a low position along the walls, make my way to a cushion in front of the massive gleaming golden desk. As I sit down I can see his feet. They adorn platform high heeled white leather knee-high boots, and behind them flows down a white cape with slits, that also veils his groin. I can see a single pawed leg of a wooden chair behind all of it. The paws have nails.
"So young mister!" I hear him say with more authority than a dictator. Chills run down my spine, at his bass-baritone. I say nothing, just stay low. He gets up from the chair, and I hear him walk around me and stop between me and the door. No exit. "I've heard what you've been saying to your teachers… It is now going to stop. I do not care if you are legally drugged while you say things like that, for I will not tolerate such behaviour."
"Wh-what is my punishment, sir?" I ask intimidated as shit.
He does not answer, as I'm getting grabbed from behind and dragged away. I steal a glance at his face, and see god.
I'm dragged into the courtyard and a giant bell is rung. I'm placed face down on the ground. I taste dust, as the coarse sand presses against my cheek. I don't move.
Eventually it sounds like there are hundreds of spectators around. It all starts with my hands. They're tied individually, then crossed at my back and tied together. My collar bones poke the ground. Then both my legs get separately packaged together ankle to ass. I hear something clicking to place and I'm lifted off the ground to dinner table height. My body sags from the middle making my spine hurt. It gets tied soon too, with a softer rope. I see a large circle of evenly spaced cat-men of all kinds. I see their legs at least.
A language is spoken that I do not understand, but it sounds influential and is making the crowd cheer.
I hear a tearing sound as the fabric at my crotch is ripped, the crowd is silenced. One of the cat-men steps forward. He is unclothed. I do not see his face. Without seremony, my legs are pried apart. I feel it slide against my opening, once, then twice, both adding to the amount of slick he's covered in. Then with one swift motion he pulls himself by my hips to be completely seated inside me. He's way too much to handle, and my seams are giving way. I feel how lacerations begin to form as he makes the most miniscule of movements. I cry rivers unashamed. He's too deep, bruising my insides, and poking organs. As I begin to scream I feel a set of hands keep my jaw open, and position me to straighten my throat, to create the best line of entry. The one filling my ass holds onto me tighter, and once my mouth is in line with the new phallus, he shoves me forward, forcing the entire thing all the way down my throat to kiss the top of my stomach. They begin a leisurely pace immediately, making me move in the hanging position nimbly just tohisliking. I desperately gasp for air, with my scorching lungs as I'm given a chance to breathe right at my limit of starting to pass out. Everything is on fire and my insides feel like a pool of jellied pain. They pound into me ceaselessly, and I want more. It takes me a moment, but once the absolute fear of not wanting to suffocate, subsides as I realise it's not bad for me to pass out. I let go of worry, and just enjoy getting filled to the brim and having my head buzz from a need for oxygen and adrenaline. A bell rings.
I feel the one taking care of my front starting to lose it. He starts messing up the rhythm, and increases in size momentarily, stretching me so bad he's pushing against my spine. I see stars for two seconds and then he starts filling my stomach from the inside. It's like drinking without swallowing, and as he pulls out slowly and my body tries to return normal, I feel the warm liquid sedating my hunger. The one behind, is not allowed to finish as a punishment for not being on time. I hang there vomiting semen, feeling hollow. My bile smells like peppermint, but tastes awful. The circle is silent and still as the people working on me retreat and blend back in.
A needy whine escapes me, and like a thundering lightning, there is a crack against my back. I feel woolen threads from my clothing get imbedded into my back. The open wounds make me scream so hard I barely notice the long spray of blood tarnishing the previously pure world around me. My blood looks neon. No one is moving, so once I get on top of my nearly uncontrollable sobs of pain, I follow it with my gaze all the way up to their gently smiling faces. Bright red spots of me stand out on their pale coat like christmas tree candles."Not worthy!" I hearhimshout, and another crack lacerates me. I scream feeling blood pool on my stomach in streams from my back, and starting to form droplets and slowly drip a puddle on the ground. A string of spit hangs from my mouth, as the abused muscles can't properly function. He comes to stand in front of me finally in view. I don't dare look him in the eye. He pulls into view a cabinet of mirrors, and pushes it so my head's inside it. I see people's feet behind myself now, as well as my stomach. It looks like a hammer horror movie as I follow the drip with my gaze. I dare not look at my face.
I feel getting flipped over. My view is now of everyone's top halves. Rick moves to stand between my legs. He puts down on the ground a wriggling large bag. I can't see him open it, but I feel the long cold tentacles wrap around my legs. They're slick, not suction cupped. The first one to find my entry feels small in my rectal cavity, and it's cold is soothing on the forming bruising. But it doesn't stop going deeper, and soothing is replaced by discomfort and muscle spasms. In the mirror I see Rick looking at my bloody stomach, looking for something, and then I see it too. I see the tentacle moving beneath the surface, going at a snail's pace, but I already feel my entire torsos skin start to tighten. A second one joins in, and I can soon see it coiling around the previous one, at a shallow bend. I drool and I cry, still needing more. My penis stands erect, dripping and untouched. The first narrower tentacle reaches my stomach, where it stops moving, as does the other. A new tentacle joins them, this one the definition of girthy, slides in with no resistance, despite out sizing everything previous. It doesn't go deep, and soon stops as well. Anticipation gathers, as a big fist size lump travels up the first tentacle. It looks like a mole digging a tunnel, moving in me, and ripping me to shreds from within. We follow it's long slow torturous travel. Then it reaches the stomach , and forms into a fattened tip. All at once everything moves into motion. I'm shook like a ragdoll as they move in and out of me at a savage pace. The inverted blowjob, seeps stomach acid freely into the intestinal tract, making it slick with it and residual semen. Admidst trying to stay conscious, I see Rick raise a sharp surgeons scalpel, and cut me open, making my insides slosh to the ground, heavy with unnatural weight…I see cats running to get a bite, and the tentacles still moving inside me- outside me…
Groggy I awake. The machine humms around us and opens the lid. Rick sits up and stretches. Then he locks eyes with me, his pupils blown, and kisses me. Together we wash off the evidence in an old decontamination area. As I'm scrubbing his back with soap, I think: "Maybe I could be converted, if he started a religion."