Final Interview Part 2
Copied (mostly) from FurAffinity, http://www.furaffinity.net/view/6796325/ I went over it and did some additional editing and re-writing, so it's a bit different from the one on FA but I think it's better.
This is a bit of an old one now, from late 2011. I was advised by a friend to upload it here, as it might provide additional audience.
This is a sequel (of sorts) to Final Interview, https://www.sofurry.com/view/534916 . Again featuring Miateshcha's character Geiger, the giant atomic death-dog, and the continuing interview series. Contains crush, vore, anal vore, harsh language, and other assorted nastiness. Viewer discretion is advised.
Final Interview : https://www.sofurry.com/view/534916
Final Interview Part 3 : https://www.sofurry.com/view/534994
Oh, you're back.
Still got more you want to hear about? Well, okay. I'm not going anywhere. Not in my condition
You know, I had some friends who tried to get high off of Geiger. Back then we were looking for anything to get our minds away from this. They scooped up some dirt from her pawprint and tried to cook it and then breathe in the fumes. It made them loopy and hallucinate. They tried it for a week, maybe two, until Jonesy woke up hysterical, screaming loud enough to wake the whole colony, about the psychedelic nightmares the induced high caused. Something about colors shifting and wavering boundaries and closing your eyes only made it worse.
We had to put a stop to that experiment. The whole thing was far too dangerous, all those toxic fumes and mind-altering side effects. Geiger thought it was cute to see us tripping out. She encouraged it. Evil bitch...
Hmm? Oh, he killed himself about a week later. Couldn't take the nightmares and hallucinations. I heard he didn't sleep for three days at the end.
She gets hungry sometimes. I remember the time she took my mother -- bless her barren womb -- and ate her. It's not like you'd think, like you'd see a dog chewing on a meat-bone. It was more like mouthwash. She sloshed her side to side and then swallowed a thin little lump of liquefied vixen down her throat. My father told me it was a brave way to go, since it's quick and fast. I didn't know bones could melt that easily.
Eventually my brothers died, both of them. Exposure, of course. I loved them, but I guess they weren't Geiger's type, since she didn't show as much care for them as she did me. I guess it's because all their man-parts are on display, and vulnerable.
The only time I actually came close to retching was when Geiger stuffed Jeffrey up her tailhole. It wasn't the sight or stench, so much as the sound, the low throaty rumble of her pleasure that shook the ground. It struck the same chord like the end of a galaxy, a throbbing hum that consumed him. I've never heard it before or since. I guess he was a special occasion.
Once they realized what I was doing, to help the colony you see, I got a little better treatment. It didn't erase the cancer or deficiencies that have built up in me, but it's nice to feel appreciated.
I didn't know what I was volunteering for at first. But I guess I can't back out of it now, so it's just moving on. That's what we do, keep moving, surviving. That's why we're alive. That's why you're alive. Because of me.
She likes me. I know she does, because she addresses me by name. Hey Red, she'd say, though that doesn't really mean anything anymore. Because most of my fur has fallen out, you idiot. She'd tell me to rub her feet, or to stand next to her, or just let her rub her finger up against my groin. It left me burned and sore when she did that. She looked like she wanted to help me, but the situation and all...
I think she admires me a bit. She's invulnerable to it all, of course, but I think I see it in her eyes, that she's encouraged that we're still around, that we can survive even this. That I come to her every day, even when my bones ache and feel so hollow, and I can't walk a straight line, try to please her. I think she admires our resilience, I guess. I mean, we're not dead yet, right?
There's this one fox, his name is Devin, he tries to take care of me. I guess he thought I was being brave or courageous or whatever to sacrifice myself so that others may live, but he thinks the world of me. He'd cradle me up against the tent wall, softly, and rub my aching joints. Decontaminant lotion into my paws, all four of them. My hands still twitch from the atomic shocks I've gotten from her. Bandage them all up and let me rest, let me lay there and stroke my mottled fur and tell me stories,
It's kind of ironic that the books survived the crash landing but the databanks didn't. Well, maybe not ironic, because computer cards are flimsy and books are made of trees. Trees are another thing I'll never see for real, but it's in those books Devin shows me. He likes the pictures. It's probably because his retinas aren't as glazed over as mine are from alpha waves or whatever.
I'd lay there and let him tend to me, he always seemed to enjoy it. I was so exhausted from trying to please Geiger that I had no energy, he just cupped a hand-full of food near my mouth, like I were a dog. But he never talks to me like I was one, he's always so nice. He understood what I went through, and why, and I think he's grateful. I hope he is, anyway.
So I guess this is goodbye, huh? Well, tell dad I love him, he's still a fertility rock star. He needs to be to keep our species going. I think I'm going to go spend one last night with Geiger. No, don't help me up, I can stand up on my own... damnit, now you've spilled it. Shit, that could've been used on someone useful. What? No, not me, you idiot...