{"sf1_id":915357,"sf2_id":"5nzEAX5m","title":"I Sold My Soul To Play The Blues, Ch. 2","author":"horsewriter","words":3048,"posted_at":"2015-09-27T20:30:00.000Z","tags":["Alien","Blues","Dog","Illuminati","Masturbation","Sci-Fi"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/915357-i-sold-my-soul-to-play-the-blues-ch-2","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/5nzEAX5m","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/73/25/7325de4c-da50-4a61-93a0-6b1a6df34ba6","description":"A collaboration between earbender and I.","content":"The hallways of the hospital lab building smelled of fresh wax, dog, and  \nmen's and women's locker rooms. That, and the sulfur smell of Lewis  \nStar. I guessed my dog nose was just really sensitive.  \n  \n  \nEven walking was strange for me - my feminine hips swayed with each  \nstep, my tail swaying in counterpoint, and my eight teats bounced and  \njiggled as we climbed down a flight of stairs. That reminded me that I  \nwas now a Vroufling bitch, and it was getting tiresome, fast.  \n  \n  \nAs we walked, I once more noticed that Lewis also had a strange gait,  \nwalking like he was club-footed or something. Also, he wore oddly small  \nshoes....  \n  \n  \nBut still curious, I decided to ask him more about his people. \"How long have you been visiting the Earth?\", I asked.  \n  \n  \n\"My people have been stopping by for thirteen thousand years off and  \non,\" he replied, \"but I'm not nearly that old. I have other projects  \ntoo, but when I'm in your neighborhood my base of operations is a  \nsatellite our government has placed in polar orbit of your planet. Your  \nscientists call it the 'Black Knight Satellite'. It's not a secret to  \nyour UFOlogists. In fact, if your friends back on Earth should happen to  \ngo to youtube and type 'Black Knight Satellite', they'd get some pretty  \ngood documentaries on it.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \n\"But you've never revealed yourselves?\"  \n  \n  \n\"We did, once, a long time ago. Some of us have even interbred with your  \nspecies. It doesn't happen by accident, of course, but our biotech is  \nmore than capable of creating such hybrids. Even now our descendants  \nhold positions of power in the highest levels of your government and  \nbusiness world. You call them the Illuminati.\"  \n  \n  \n\"The Illuminati? You're kidding me.\"  \n  \n  \n\"No. Your first president, George Washington, wrote a letter warning  \nabout us. It's preserved in the Library of Congress archives even now.\"  \n  \n  \nI shook my head in disbelief. So the Yenta had been quietly manipulating  \nthe human race for thousands of years? Well, that did explain a lot....  \n  \n  \nWe walked into a reception room filled with dog people of all breeds,  \nwho watched us with curiosity, outright staring at Lewis - but then,  \nit's not every day that you see an alien, I guess. I noticed that  \neveryone was wearing either shorts, skirts, or dresses - no shirts. And  \nall the females had eight teats like me.  \n  \n  \nWe walked through wide glass double doors that had to be pushed open,  \ninstead of being automatic, and out into an open grassy field, dotted  \nwith 1950's looking cars with skirts instead of wheels. Hovercars?  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nThe fresh air hit me in the face and I could smell the soil and the  \ngrass, and lots of male and female dogs. It was a warm, bright, sunny  \nday with a slight breeze.  \n  \n  \nThere where garishly painted buildings all around us, but no paved  \nroads, only grassy lanes over which the hovercars occasionally zoomed,  \nmaking a turbine sound.  \n  \n  \nI turned to Lewis: \"How come there are no roads?\", I asked.  \n  \n  \n\"The Vrouflings don't pay taxes, so there's no unified system of  \nhighways\", he explained. \"There's nothing like a national government on  \nVrouf, just independent clans, each one led by its own alpha.\"  \n  \n  \nI nodded. Okay, that was different.  \n  \n  \nHe led me to a large black hovercar, opened the door for me, and we got  \nin. He took out a ring of keys and started it, the turbine engine  \nwhining as it spun up - the exhaust smelled like newly mown grass. Then  \nhe retracted the parking struts and we where off.  \n  \n  \n\"Why does the exhaust smell like cut grass?\", I asked, curious.  \n  \n  \n\"It's an ethanol blown turbine. No gasoline, and few petroleum products  \non Vrouf\", Lewis answered. \"Vrouflings don't like the smell.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nI nodded. That, at least, made sense considering how sensitive my nose was. \"So where are we headed?\", I asked.  \n  \n  \n\"I'm going to take you to a clothing store\", he said. \"All the clothes in your trailer are for guys.\"  \n  \n  \nRight. I frowned a little at that, still upset.  \n  \n  \nWe pulled up to a large pink and red building with no name, just  \npictograms of clothes, opened the double glass doors and walked in. It  \nwas a classic clothing store, just like on Earth, air-conditioned, and  \nsmelling of cloth and what I guessed where dyes.  \n  \n  \nStar found a female clerk - a red Irish setter type in shorts, again  \nwith eight teats like I had - and asked her to take my measurements \"for  \ndresses and shorts.\" I guessed I wouldn't be needing a bra or  \nunderwear.  \n  \n  \nShe measured my waist with a tape that had no numbers on it, only marks  \nand a sliding metal ring, then took us to a shelf of shorts with a bar  \nover them that matched the length of the tape and ring.  \n  \n  \nCurious, I asked Lewis why there was no writing. \"It's a non-literate  \nsociety\", he told me. \"No public education, and no alphabet - just  \nsomething like cuneiform for the elite. You can read that, by the way.  \nWe programmed it into your brain, along with the local sheet music. And  \nthe Vroufling East-Continent language, of course. Have you noticed yet  \nthat we're not speaking English?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \n\"Er... thanks. I guess.\" Not sure how to answer that one. To distract  \nmyself I picked out a half dozen pairs of shorts then asked where the  \ndresses where, realizing that I was going to feel sort of embarrassed  \nwalking around with my teats poking out.  \n  \n  \nI chose some dresses, all brightly dyed in various colors, and then  \nLewis told me to pick out a purse. I frowned at that, but I guessed I  \nwas going to need one. I chose a tan leather one. Then I had my  \nfoot-paws measured and picked out a pair of sandals - it seemed  \nVrouflings only wore sandals, not regular shoes, I guess because of the  \nfur.  \n  \n  \nThen we went to the checkout stand. I noticed it had no register, and  \nthere where no price-tags on the clothes. Lewis put our purchase on the  \ncounter and then bargained with the clerk for a minute, settling on a  \nprice of twelve silver coins.  \n  \n  \nIt was going to take some time to get used to this society, I thought.  \n  \n  \nThe clerk tied up our purchases in paper wrapping with string, and we  \ngot back into Lewis' hovercar. He drove us to a large trailer park on  \nthe outskirts of town, shaded by unfamiliar trees, and parked in front  \nof a trailer. In the distance I could hear a train. Great, I was by the  \ntracks...  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \n\"I want you to get changed, then come back out. It's time to meet the band,\" he said, and handed me a key from his key ring.  \n  \n  \nI took the key and the bundle of clothes, unlocked the door of my  \ntrailer, and walked in. Inside it was air-conditioned and clean, looking  \nlike any trailer-home on Earth. It even had an electric range and a  \ntelevision and stereo. I bit though the string on the clothes bundle,  \nand emptied it on my new table.  \n  \n  \nI took off my hospital gown, chose a blue dress, and struggled into it  \nafter dismissing the shorts - no need to walk around topless, I thought,  \neven though the locals didn't seem to mind.  \n  \n  \nDressed, I put my key into the purse, shouldered it, and walked out, locking the door behind me.  \n  \n  \nI got into the hovercar with Lewis, and he started the turbine. \"So where to next?\", I asked.  \n  \n  \n\"To the recording studio\", he replied. \"Oh, remember to wag your tail  \nwhen you meet the band. No handshaking on Vrouf. And don't be surprised  \nif someone licks your muzzle - that's how good friends greet.\"  \n  \n  \nI nodded my head.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nAfter a short trip, we pulled up in front of a three-story black  \nbuilding with pictograms of musical instruments on its facade. Lewis  \nparked the hovercar, and we went in. A poodle receptionist waved to us,  \nand we walked to the stairs. I could hear the faint sounds of piano,  \ndrums, and saxophone laying down the blues coming from above as we  \nclimbed the stairs.  \n  \n  \nLewis opened a door on the second floor landing, revealing the smell of  \nmale dog and a large studio filled with recording equipment, and four  \nVrouflings - a golden retriever playing the piano, what looked like a  \nGerman shepherd at the drums, and some kind of mixed breed Vroufling on  \nthe sax. There was a basset hound running recording equipment.  \n  \n  \nThe music stopped. \"Hey Lewis\", said the retriever, \"is that the Earthling you promised us?\"  \n  \n  \n\"It is\", he replied. \"Meet Larry Indigo, from Earth\", Lewis said.  \n  \n  \nThey all started wagging their tails. So I wagged mine.  \n  \n  \n\"I thought we where where getting a guy?\", said the recording specialist.  \n  \n  \n\"There was a mix-up in shipping. Larry will be our guitarist and do lead vocals\", Lewis said.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nThey nodded and wagged their tails some more. \"No big deal\", said the  \nbasset hound, \"take your place and let's get started. I want to hear  \nyour sound.\"  \n  \n  \n\"Introductions first\", said Lewis. \"Larry, meet the band.\"  \n  \n  \nThey introduced themselves. \"I'm Sten\", said the drummer. \"Yort\", said  \nthe saxophonist. \"Eval\", said the drummer. \"Grot\", said the recording  \nartist.  \n  \n  \nLewis led me up to a mic, a stand for sheet music, and a stratocaster on  \na tube amp. I picked up the guitar. The sheet music was open to a song I  \nrecognized: The Memphis Blues.  \n  \n  \n\"On three\", I said. \"One, two, three\", and began to sing and play as the band accompanied me.  \n  \n  \nIt came out alright, except for one thing: the Memphis Blues was meant to be sung by a man.  \n  \n  \nLewis sat and listened while we went through several songs. It was clear  \nthat the band had been practicing, and I was certainly up on my game,  \nbut my voice was just wrong.  \n  \n  \nFinally, I stopped and addressed Lewis. \"Lewis, we need a male vocalist for these songs. The sound isn't coming out right.\"  \n  \n  \nHe nodded. \"I'll get you someone by tomorrow\", he said. \"Meanwhile, keep practicing.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nWe played for a few more hours until we all started to get a little  \nhungry. Finally, Lewis called time on our jam session and everybody put  \ndown their instruments. \"Let's meet again tomorrow at noon\", he said. So  \nwe all said our good-byes and the crew left, leaving Lewis and me  \nalone.  \n  \n  \n\"Let's get some dinner\", he said. \"I'm starving\". I nodded my head.  \n  \n  \nHe led me out of the building to his hovercar, started it, and took us  \nto a restaurant. It was a sprawling one story affair, painted in bright  \ncolors with pictograms of food painted on its facade. The smell of  \ncooked meat filled the air.  \n  \n  \nWe went in, where seated, and Lewis ordered for us - some kind of cooked  \nlizard meat. With sauce. But I was hungry enough, and actually it  \ntasted quite good. We also had some kind of clear alcoholic beverage.  \n  \n  \nWe discussed how our practice session had gone, and Lewis assured me he  \ncould have a male vocalist by tomorrow. \"I know someone who 's had a  \nlittle practice on the guitar. He's not as good as you, but he has a  \ngood voice\", he told me.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \n\"Where did the instruments come from?\", I asked him.  \n  \n  \n\"Oh, I brought them from Earth. This planet has the piano and drums, but no saxophone or guitar\", he said.  \n  \n  \nI nodded. That made sense. We finished eating, then finally got up and  \nheaded out. As we got into his car, I asked him: \"So how much does this  \ngig pay, anyway?\"  \n  \n  \n\"Oh, you'll get a full share, along with the rest of the band. Enough to make you very rich,\" he said.  \n  \n  \nWe pulled up in front of my trailer. \"I'll be here around noon tomorrow to pick you up,\" he said, and I got out.  \n  \n  \nI unlocked my door and went in, tossed my purse on the table, and went  \nto the stereo and turned it on. There were the news and sports channels,  \nof course, but the channels playing music had nothing but folk and some  \nsort of classical sounding stuff. No sign of anything like Earth music.  \n  \n  \nI realized I needed to pee from all the drink I had during dinner, and  \nwent to the bathroom. It was comfortingly normal, just like an Earth  \nbathroom, with a shower, sink, mirror, and toilet complete with handle. I  \nbreathed a sigh of relief at that, hefted my dress, curled my tail  \naround me and sat down on the toilet. It took a moment for me to realize  \nI needed to release the muscles of my bladder to pee, but then the  \nurine sluiced out of me in a long relieving stream. There was toilet  \npaper, so I wiped my pussy and got up, flushing.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \n'Well, that was an experience', I thought. Next, I felt that I should take a shower.  \n  \n  \nSo I pulled off my dress, and climbed into the tub. It was remarkably  \nEarth-like in design, so I adjusted the water temperature and turned on  \nthe shower. Sure enough, in no time I smelled like wet dog, thoroughly  \nsoaked. There was a bottle of some kind of dog shampoo, so I poured some  \nin my hand-paw and started to lather myself.  \n  \n  \nShampooing my teats was new experience: they where so soft and fluid,  \nand my big pink nipples came erect as I started to play with them,  \npoking out like stiff little fingertips. It was, I thought, a fun  \nexperience to have teats of your own as I shampooed my frontside. And  \ngiving them attention made them feel kind of warm....  \n  \n  \nGrinning to myself, I put some shampoo on a rag and spread my legs,  \nrubbing my pussy with the rag, cleaning my groin fur. It made me wonder  \nwhat sticking something up my vagina would feel like, but I the resisted  \ntemptation to penetrate myself with my finger. Instead, I finished  \nwashing my backside, tail and legs, and turned off the shower.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nDripping wet, I decided to shake myself off. So I did, making my teats  \nbounce and sway as the water flew from my coat. Then I stepped out of  \nthe shower and toweled myself off.  \n  \n  \nGod, my nipples where still erect from the fondling I'd given my teats  \nin the shower. Gently, I started to caress my teats as I stared at  \nmyself in the mirror, the fog fading into droplets, revealing my border  \ncollie looking head as I played with myself. Idly, I wondered what it  \nwould feel like to have someone suck my teats....  \n  \n  \nBeing female sure was a new experience - especially having tits of my  \nown to play with! And a pussy! And that thought made me stop and think  \nfor a second, and I wondered if there was something in the bathroom I  \ncould masturbate with. I wondered what that would feel like....  \n  \n  \nSo I opened the door under the sink, and saw a plunger and a toilet  \nbrush with copper handles. I took out the toilet brush, licking my lips:  \nit would do nicely.  \n  \n  \nGrinning to myself, I took the brush and walked into the bedroom: 'this  \nshould be an experience', I thought, and laid down on the bed, brush in  \nhand.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \n'Here goes', I thought, raising my knees into the air and putting the  \ntip of the brush to my pussy lips. I parted my lips with the cool metal  \nhandle, and found the opening of my vagina. I pushed a little, feeling  \nthe flesh of my vagina part open to accept the tip, and then I gripped  \nthe handle and sank it in to me.  \n  \n  \nI slowly slid the handle up my vagina, it's metallic surface sliding  \npast the moist walls with an electric pleasurable sensation.  \n  \n  \n\"Oh fuck\", I breathed, feeling its long hard and cool length inside me,  \nfilling me. Suddenly, all my teats felt warm, my nipples hard and  \nsticking out, and I couldn't help but moan.  \n  \n  \nThen suddenly, I felt an icky sticky wetness between my legs as my  \nvagina lubricated around the handle. 'Here goes nothing', I thought, and  \nbegan to slide it back and forth inside me.  \n  \n  \nRight away, the sliding sensation of the handle against my now wet inner  \nwalls sent wave after wave of pleasure through me as I slid it back and  \nforth inside me with my right hand-paw, my left hand-paw caressing my  \nteats. In no time I was bucking and squirming, calling out \"unh...  \nunh... unh...\" as I masturbated to the steadily increasing waves of  \npleasure.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nGod it was fun! Masturbation as a guy had never felt like this! I had no idea what I had been missing as a guy....  \n  \n  \nThe waves of pleasure became so intense that I started to cry out, \"Ah!  \nAh! Ah! Oh God! Fuck!\" as I bucked and squirmed and twisted, my tail  \nthumping the bed as I masturbated furiously. The sensation became  \noverwhelming and I imagined myself being fucked with a real dick by a  \nVroufling wolf-dog man as I squeezed my teats and slid the handle back  \nand forth through my vagina. And then I came.  \n  \n  \nSuddenly, it felt like I was floating, and a massive warm wave of  \npleasure crashed though my body. I star stars and bright lights, and I  \ncouldn't feel my hand-paws or foot-paws or tail tip as I curled up into  \nmyself and cried out \"Ooh! Oh God! Yes!\"  \n  \n  \nMy vagina spasmed around the rod as I came, and I creamed. \"Aahhhh...!\",  \nI screamed. The handle fell from my limp hand-paw and I just lay there,  \nchest heaving, repeating \"Oh God, oh God, oh God\", impaled on the  \ncopper rod as my orgasm washed through me.  \n  \n  \nThen I just lay there, the handle sticking out of my vagina, as I tried  \nto catch my breath as I came back down to Earth. Or Vrouf. Whatever....  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nThen, as the sensation was fading, I started to get ahold of myself. \"Oh  \nfuck, that was good!\", I breathed, pulling the rod from my pussy. Then I  \ntossed it off the side of the bed.  \n  \n  \nAnd then, exhausted, I fell asleep.   \n  \n\n","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/914295-i-sold-my-soul-to-play-the-blues-ch-1.json"}