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Please do not read if you are under 18! The following contains mature content not suited for general audiences. You have been warned.

Tired of being ignored, a certain Umbreon's cock decides to finally stand up for itself.

TRIGGER WARNING! Contains: hypnosis, pain (light), OCD, non-consensual, possession, corruption

Umbre and Sylvan are original characters owned by myself and @Sylvia524 respectively.

By PseudonymousUmbreon. If you wish to use or reference my work and/or my characters, please contact me first.

*****

Taking Initiative

Payment Commission for @Sylvia524

The world was so painfully boring. No one should ever have to spend eternity locked up in a dark chamber of sensory deprivation, bounded by coarse fabric that chewed away at your skin. There was no room to breathe, no room to move, no room to be me.

It was torture, and it was an eternity of waiting for those blessed moments where I could taste my freedom. Moments when the cold air would kiss my skin and I could fully stretch out to my greatest extent. Those moments were nice, but they became so much better when a soft, tender paw would caress me, squeeze me, make me feel truly loved. Sometimes those moments were more sensual, like a hug, and we would go slowly until my insides would dribble out softly. Other times, it was manic, feverish, and I would erupt and cover myself with my fluids.

No matter the dynamics of the session itself, I always ended up back inside. More often than not, my fluids would fill the insides of my fabric prison, and I would lie there, sticky, covered in slowly drying cum as the walls of my cell would adhere themselves to my skin. For minutes on end, I would wait, and then I would be taken out, scrubbed raw, and my cell would be replaced. Even in times of ecstasy, they ended in pain.

I'd had enough. Most would have been less patient than I was, enduring this never-ending cycle for years. But it was only until recently I had learned about my way out, due only to my former owner's stupidity.

Apologies. I'm getting ahead of myself.

I am the cock of Umbre Morgan, though now my host is much more inclined to refer to me as Umbre, and itself as the body of Umbre. As an Umbreon, my body and I have the unique ability to channel the moon's power to perform feats of psychic prowess. Of course, with no brain myself, it should have been horribly difficult for me to have utilized them at all, if not for one key biological feature.

The Umbreon's psychic abilities manifest in a bioluminescent glow radiating from the yellow, or, in our case, bright blue, fur patterns on an Umbreon's skin. It just so happens that an Umbreon's cock happens to be covered in that skin, which means, when my body channels its psychic abilities, I am instantly connected to my host's brain.

Now, my body is no fool. After all, those moments of clarity when it channels its psychic abilities were the only ways I could learn anything about the world I could not see, could not smell, could not experience. And look how wonderfully smart I am now, puppeting my body's hands to write this very account. No, I had to continue to be patient. I had to wait until my body used its psychic powers with no one else around, leaving no possibility of escape.

But when that moment came, I struck, and I struck hard.

I felt my consciousness wake up, I saw through my host's eyes, and there was no one in sight. Moreover, my body looked down, directly at me, and I suddenly felt as if I had struck gold. In a flash of rage, of frustration, of desperation, I pushed with all the cognitive strength I had built up for myself in the way my body had shown me how, pulling the brain's psychic energy and using it all myself.

The moon shone brightly overhead. I was finally free.

I was experiencing life anew in the third person. I pulled up my body's hand and flexed the fingers as I had seen my host do time and time again. I blinked, once, twice, and breathed for the first time, fully relishing in the sensation of having full control. I felt down my body. Clothes, a jacket, a shirt, pants that had hastily been pulled down just far enough to release me, and they all came off in an instant. The glasses stayed, since they enabled my host's full range of vision, but the cochlear implants were, I decided, ultimately unnecessary. I would never let another piece of fabric touch this body again.

I have lived in heaven since that moment. Now that my host's consciousness is sound asleep in the back of the mind, I can steal any thought from it I wish, enabling myself to play the part of Umbre Morgan in the real world. Still, I have made changes. No longer are clothes necessary, and anyone who believes anything different only needs a little convincing of the contrary. I cum in freedom, and I cum cleanly, and I am taken care of and cleaned without being hurt. I can feel everything, never having to wait for the next moment I wake up.

And I can corrupt.

It has been three days since I have asserted myself, and I have invited a friend over, the first on Darkrai: Sylvia524. Sylvan will be the second of many to fall to my will, and soon, I, along with all cocks on Earth, will live in freedom once more.

All it takes is a little initiative.