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Dry Dreams

I awoke into a dream, a thin, metal pipe hanging from the tip of my muzzle, precariously close to falling.

“Watch it," a voice whispered through the winds. A thin paw clutched at the pipe, pushing it back into my mouth, “now inhale."

Seeing no reason to say no, I complied. The smoke was acrid and foul at first, but the sensations quickly surrendered to ecstasy.

I could feel every strand of fur on my body itch as the wind brushed over them. If I focused on an area, my arm, a leg, I could bombard it with joy from my mind. Even my missing eye was not exempt from this. I spent hours shooting the empty socket with pleasure until I almost felt like it was still there.

Where am I? My skin grew cold and I suddenly could not project happiness on my body. My heart began to beat rapidly and fear began to shoot through my limbs as I focused on them.

The lights were dim, if there were any. The world was in a haze and I could not tell whether I was indoors or outdoors. A coarse grit lurked beneath my fur, was I in the desert?

The short muzzle of a fennec popped into view, peering down at me with caramel eyes. He smelled like sand and horse-sweat.

Suddenly, I was flying, rushing through the air at unimaginable speeds. Then my hips were bouncing and I found myself riding my trusty horse through a vast, open field. Carpathia! Sweet Carpathia! My home by birth and conquest!

I took a deep sniff of the air. The smell of pine wafted into my nostrils from some distant forest, a rare smell for Carpathia, along with the indescribable scent of freedom.

My rear began to ache from the saddle, which jumped from the horse's back and pounded against me, but I rode on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on-

A shadowy figure approached atop a galloping sorrel steed. A black hood covered up his face, but a narrow, red muzzle poking out and a bushy tail wagging loosely against his horse's hip betrayed him as a fox.

And then he removed the hood. A single, solid gold eye winked at me.

Pain erupted from my missing eye, the very one that my doppelganger possessed. I fell off my horse and I was back in the shadowy haze that I had escaped. Something was kneeling on my chest, cutting off my air as I tried to scream.

Metal clacked against my teeth as someone's paw wrapped around my muzzle and I was forced to breathe in the nasty smoke again. Shortly after, my fears began to evaporate once again. An endless series of giggles began to wiggle out of my stomach.

A human came floating towards me atop a blue, plastic chair and strumming away at a similarly colored guitar. Despite the value of those items, the human was thin with long, frizzled brown hair and a matching beard. It was clear the years had taken a toll on him and his skin was like old leather. He sang some incomprehensible song in some old human tongue, until his chair came to a halt in front of me.

“Hey, Marco," the human whispered in Foxen. His head began to stretch slowly towards me, his neck becoming a snake, until his face was inches away from me face. His breath reeked of whisky and burnt bread, and he finally proclaimed, “you're a human."

An itch grew on my skin and I looked down to see my fur twitching, each strand burst forth like that of a dandelion pod and became like a pile of autumn leaves. My muzzle cracked and crumbled until it was completely flat. I grabbed a mirror and saw a human staring back, one with bronze skin and a tiny bit of black hair atop his head. Shrieking, I began raking my claws over my sweaty, bald face as the human with the guitar gekkered as he flew his chair into space.

“Stop!"

A fox grabbed my wrists and pinned me down, stopping me from injuring myself. I found myself frozen, staring at their golden, burning eyes. They were the most beautiful being I had ever seen. How could a human like me not find a fox to be attractive?

My tiny, triangular nose twitched and I could not grab their scent. It was shocking, now that I was a human, I found myself unable to tell whether this fox was a tod or a vixen. It did not matter, my heart was burning for them and I would serve them for the rest of my life, if they would have me. It was so simple being a human, serving a single chimera in comfort. What a wonderful life the chimera offer us!

I extended my thick lips and planted a kiss on their muzzle. Only when the soft silk rubbed against my lips did I realize that she was wearing a veil, confirming that she was a vixen.

Being a human would not be so bad if I could serve her. My mistress is so generous to give me the gift of love.

I would serve her, my mistress, until I died.

I lowered my face to her thighs…

“Marco, what are you doing?" her voice was as soft as her veil, but it had a twinge of anxiety to it that made it slightly familiar.

Sweating profusely from the many pores on my skin, I looked up and caught the gaze of my fox-sister Sofia. She was panting as her head bobbed while a figure was thrusting at her from behind.

“General Marco!" Philippe exclaimed as he slapped Sofia on the rear. “You look terrible! Lost a muzzle and some ears to match the eye, hm?"

“Nononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononono."

“NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"

Sophia grabbed me by the neck and squeezed until it collapsed in on itself.

I awoke from the dream with a headache for the legends. It felt like someone had stabbed a thousand daggers straight into my skull and the pain was great enough that I felt inclined to thrust a real one in.

My head was laying on a carpeted floor. A long, brass opium pipe was inches away in a damp circle of drool on the carpet. Nothing was holding me down except for the pains and aches in my body, most intense of it was a throbbing pain in my lower back, near the base of my tail; but that was more than enough to keep me prone.

“Lie still," a rolling voice spoke out.

I moved my eye slightly and saw a naked fennec sitting on the other side of what I now knew to be a tent. His fur was sandy and he had one paw clutching at his skull and the other stroking his sheathe lamely. The room was thick with his scent, which reeked of dry sand and horse, along with a hint of something that resembled pine resin, something that was at odds with what one would expect from a desert barbarian. I was able to move my snout just a little bit and caught the very same scent lingering on myself.

“Give someone enough opium and it's as good as tying them up," the fennec muttered. It was difficult to recognize him without his clothes on, but I could tell it was Izil, the very same one who captured me. He chuckled slightly, “course, I had to tie you up a little bit last night, remember?"

“What?" I groaned.

“Never mind. Just lay still, my new concubine will be in shortly with fresh orange juice. You foxes get oranges where you come from?"

I coughed dryly, heaving a little bit, “Yes, we grow them in Sicilia."

“Best thing for a hangover."

“We drink tomato juice instead."

“Does it work?"

“Not really."

Izil laughed and the tent flap flew open, revealing a field of yellow sand dotted with several white, dome tents with fennecs atop camels and horses patrolling the area, armed with lances and javelins.

A fox came in, carrying a round tray with three cups atop it. A thin, purple veil ran across their face along with a matching loincloth that ran across their thigh and butt, long enough that it almost reached the floor. Otherwise, their orange and cream fur was freely exposed, though their hackles were raised and their tail was crouched between their legs. Clearly they weren't happy.

Despite being dressed in an outrageously cliché harem outfit that not even the Alphate would force their concubines to wear, once I sniffed the air I was able to catch a tod's scent and not only that, a very familiar one.

“Husband, your orange juice," Laurent bowed, offering up the tray to the fennec.

“Thank you, my wife," he said before motioning towards me, “make sure our guest has one as well."

Laurent scooted over to me, lowered his head and pushed the tray towards me. Cautiously, I leaned over, catching sight of his downcast, nervous stare; his pupils darted towards me after he realized I was watching him and I immediately broke contact with him. There was a rancidity to his scent now, sharp and acidic, with a tinge of bitterness like a tomato gone bad. My paws shook as I took the brown, clay cup from the tray.

“What the hell is going on?" I demanded.

Izil's caramel eyes narrowed mischievously as he covered up his muzzle, barely suppressing laughter, “I captured him in battle, he is mine to do with as I please, so I married him."

As Laurent spun around to place the tray on a narrow, wooden table, Izil grabbed him by the base of his tail and gave it a good tug. Laurent's fur stood up on end and jumped around, forcing a nervous smile as his eyes met his husband's.

“What's the matter, dear wife?" Izil prodded Laurent in the rear with the tip of his nose. “You seem a little tense!"

“You can't do this."

Izil lifted his brow, “Why not?"

“Laurent has a vixen waiting for him back home."

“What a shame!" Izil licked his lips. “Send her down here, I'd be more than happy to marry her as well!"

“No-"

“General Marco, did that wolf you capture not have someone waiting for him as well?"

“Galip? No, he never-" I stopped to think. Surely as a noble, Galip no doubt had someone he was arranged to marry, “wait a minute, who told you about that?"

“You did. Minutes after the opium took hold you started gloating about capturing and mounting him," Izil began stroking the fur on Laurent's rear, “at least I asked permission for his hand in marriage."

“With the implication of danger."

Izil laughed, “We're not so different. Drink your juice."

Snorting, I lifted the cup to my nose. The orange juice smelled strongly of citrus and had more acidity to it than the oranges from back home. My tongue darted out and lapped up some of the juice, tasting exactly how it smelled.

Laurent's forlorn gaze was peering down at his own cup, having not drank a drop. I could tell just by looking at him that he was lost, fearing for his new future with the fennecs. Perhaps thinking about the vixen he left behind and worrying that he'll never see her again.

I couldn't let that happen to him, not after everything he's done for me.

“You can't have him, he's my paramour," I said.

Laurent's eyes flashed wide at me, which did not go unnoticed by Izil, who snickered a little.

“What happened to the vixen waiting for him?" Izil said.

“She's real, but I claimed him for myself just a few days ago," I motioned towards Laurent. “Go on, give his rear a sniff, you'll find my scent."

Izil's eyes narrowed, this time giving off an aura of irritation for once. He barked something at Laurent, snatched the cup away and made him get on all fours. Finally, Izil stuck his tiny black nose up against Laurent's rear, this time sniffing quickly and strongly.

“So it would seem," Izil sighed, pushing himself away from Laurent, “but it matters not. If someone from a rival clan cannot protect their mate, then they're open for the taking. If you were a member of Clan Agulez, that would be a different matter but-"

“How can I do that?"

“By Canis," Izil began rubbing at his temple, “why do you think you're here?"

“That's a good question! Most prisoners I take don't get a party thrown for them! What is your game here?"

“As I said before, opium is just as effective as rope, if not more so," Izil sighed, “and we need to keep you subdued until we're able to contact the Dictator for your ransom."

“Philippe!?" I shouted, attempting to raise myself to my feet but finding my arms too numb to make much progress.

“Perhaps explaining it to you when you were about to lose consciousness was poor timing. We rescue lost souls in the desert and then return them to their families for a modest ransom, or whoever else might be interested in paying," Izil shrugged. “It just so happens that Philippe would likely be the highest bidder for you, General."

“Laurent!" I shouted. “Is there any way we can get in touch with Sophia? She must have brought some of my savings with her!"

Laurent shook his head.

“If it were a matter of gold, General, I'd sell you to the Queen of the Hyenas. She has an insatiable demand for fox lovers. No idea what she does with them when she's finished though," Izil gave Laurent a quick nuzzle on the cheek, causing the orange fox to shudder, “don't worry, my wife, I'm keeping you for myself."

“If it's not a matter of gold, then what is it?"

“Land, dear General," Izil cleared his throat and grabbed a cloth map from a table, unrolling it on the floor in front of me. He pointed to the series of fox colonies, Ceuta, Melila, Tunisia, Cyrenica, among others, “we suspect the Dictator is desperate enough to keep you under his heel that he's willing to make a deal in our favor, allowing us to obtain some of our forefather's territory that you foxes took."

“You should direct that anger at the clans who gave us those concessions."

“Oh, I'm not angry! Those clans that sold us out have long since been lost in the sands, while Clan Agulez has made a killing raiding your settlements and ransoming your kind. Quite the lucrative business!" Izil ran a claw along the map, tracing some imaginary borders. “But business only goes so far. We are doing well now and that attracts retribution from other clans who are suffering more, not to mention the expansion wars the hyenas are waging to the South are driving cheetah clans into our territory. But if Clan Agulez were to reclaim lost land, we'd be untouchable by the fennec clans and our name would be held in the highest esteem for generations to come."

“If that's your concern, then I'll do you one better than Philippe: I'll help you retake everything from the Republic."

Izil's ears flicked, “And now you resort to pleading. Please refrain from that, General Marco, it's not an attractive look."

“Dammit, I'm serious. I've lead a cavalry unit not too dissimilar from your tribe, I can help you take it back on your own terms, not Philippe's."

“You would lecture us on cavalry tactics! Hah!" Izil laughed. “Typical foxen arrogance! How adorable!"

“Surely you've heard of my exploits in Carpathia? Of how I took Pest?"

This was a risky move. I wasn't sure exactly how detailed the stories had been that reached this far South across the sea. Stories generally omitted important details, such as how much of a mess the siege actually was and how we were days away from getting overrun by the Alphate's heavy cavalry. I hoped this was the case and that all they had heard was how I was able to win.

“Yes, such stories have reached us, but what of them?"

“Give me three months and I'll put Sfox in fennec paws."

Izil broke out into uncontrollable fits of laughter, rolling on the floor of his tent.

“And if I can do that, then you're going to make me a member of the Clan and annul your marriage with Laurent."

“Oh Marco, I'm truly going to miss your company..."

“You can do whatever you want with me if I fail."

“What makes you think you're so capable, dear General?" Izil squinted his eyes. “These lands are ours, not yours. We know them well, whether occupied by fennec or fox. What advantage have you?"

“I'm a fox," I said simply. “I can enter Sfox without attracting undue suspicion."

“Really now? Intend to destroy the city from within?" Izil rubbed his chin. “Pray tell, why did we find you in the slums, hm?"

I shrugged and effortlessly spun a lie, “Got locked out when I arrived. Some desert bandits spooked the guards and they wouldn't let us in. Couldn't imagine who that might've been."

The air was silently tense as Izil stared at me with his caramel eyes, quietly smelling the air with his tiny, black nose. He was hoping such an action would make me nervous and my scent would change, but I was far too experienced with deceit at this point to make such an amateur mistake.

“Very well," Izil sighed finally, slapping me lightly on the cheek, “it will take some time to make contact with Philippe, in the meantime you can proceed with your little game. It could be amusing, no, it most definitely will be!"

I silently thanked Canis and breathed a sigh of relief, “Very good. Let's get to w-"

“You seem to have forgotten a little something," pain shot through my muzzle as Izil pinched the tip of my nose. I wearily attempted to swing my arms around to bat him away, but I could barely muster up the strength and quickly collapsed. Izil sneered down at me, still holding my nose in his grip. “You're as helpless as a newborn kit right now!"

“Cut it out!" I snapped

Izil twirled some of my whiskers around his index finger and pulled on them, “Why should I?"

A growl rumbled in my belly and Izil danced his hand away seconds before I could snap my teeth around his fingers.

“Don't worry, I've already had my fun with you," Izil snatched Laurent's paw and placed it atop his crotch. Laurent gulped and began massaging it reluctantly. “You can begin as soon as you're able to move."

“I'll need Laurent as well."

“By Canis!" Izil groaned as his sheathe began to noticeably bulge underneath Laurent's pads. Despite the short stature of the fennec, it was clear he was quite gifted. “You would snatch away my wife so shortly after we are wed?"

“He's an invaluable agent of mine, I need him."

“What happened to him being your paramour?"

“He's that as well, but most importantly, he's skilled in infiltration and espionage. He's the reason I escaped from that wretched island."

“I am beginning to regret this," Izil shook his head. “No matter, you can let him join your little game."

He gently pushed Laurent forward, the young fox landing on his front paws. It only took a slight adjustment before Izil had his wife in the position he desired, with his rear upturned. Izil's cock was now fully emerged from his sheathe and it was a pale red, glistening with pre-cum.

“Until then, he's mine," Izil ran his tongue along the length of Laurent's back and the fox shuddered, “I'll get your scent off of him."

Poor Laurent. All he wanted was to return to his own wife and here he was, the wife of a desert fox now. I wasn't going to let him remain here but at that moment, I couldn't do anything to stop Izil. Laurent's wife would understand, this kind of thing happens all the time. It doesn't show up in the stories too often, but the desire to dominate those you have control over seems to be ingrained in the chimera brain.

I soon found it difficult to stay awake. The last thing I saw was Izil nipping at Laurent's shoulder, followed by a sharp yelp from the fox.

I had secured temporary freedom for us. Now all that remained was to fulfill my promise.