Rubber mouse journals 1
A thing i wrote about a rubber mouse guy and posted on inkbunny before remembering that this is where it's better to post stories.
Diary of a rubber mouse, part one.
Story begins in medias res.
The nameless hero has had some rough times, but that's to be expected when some crazy virus turns humans into mutants with minds closer to those of the animals they now resemble. This probably qualifies as fanfiction taking place in Nuku Valente's Flexible survival world. Feral thus refers to the mindset of the mutants and not the body configuration.
This is also written in a train-of-thought style by the character himself, so bear in mind that some things might sound awkward. i've done my best to cull this and fix mistakes.
It's been awhile since I've had a good meal, and these protein shakes are starting to taste stale. Thankfully, ever since this city went to hell there's no shortage of perfectly willing "prey" for an oddly designed predator like me. I have to keep reminding myself how strange all of this chaos really is, or I might end up losing myself again. Part of the reason I switched to protein shakes is because I nearly lost myself once before. I'm getting that itch though and if I don't go hunting soon I'll just end up going crazy from starvation. I'll have to remember to write about it in here afterwards.
That was a good hunt, and I'm still sane to some degree. I left my little den and took some inconspicuous pathways to someplace far enough away that I might not give away the location of the of one of the few safe places I've been able to find in this gods forsaken city. Phoenix wasn't that nice before, but now it's just a land of chaos. Anyway, I managed to find a pair of jackrabbits isolated from what I assume to be a large family. These two males weren't going to be able to have a litter of their own, but they were certainly about to try when I broke then up. A good hard kick to the face knocked one of them out right away, but the other one almost caught me off guard. I managed to deflect his blow and get him pinned on the ground. I'm made of fairly dense rubber and tougher than people expect someone of my size to be.
Once I had him pinned I grabbed his muzzle and made it very clear what I was going to do and that I'd be very pissed off if I didn't get my way. That seemed to get his attention, and he didn't struggle that much while I went to working on milking some all natural rubber-slut feed from his member. I planted myself on the ground between his legs, rubbing him until I could see more of that delightfully tangy pre-cum coming out. I was drooling more than he was and couldn't help but wrap my latex lips around that turgid pole and swallow it to the hilt. Having a muzzle certainly makes giving head easier, though being made of living rubber probably helps more. I bobbed my head on his rod, letting my saliva coat him as much as I could. This stuff makes the critter-folk go crazy and their bits even grow a little while it's affecting them.
Actually, it isn't just my spit that does that. The ones who manage to catch me seem to go right for my tail, and they get the same effects.
So, while I'm working on this poor jackrabbit's dick my venom starts doing its thing and he's getting more and more into this little affair. On cue, the situation turns on its head and he's got me by the face and skull-fucking me. I'm glad that I can breathe through my nose easily because this always seems to happen when I hunt. Still, this is exactly what I wanted and he quickly blew his load down my throat.
What a load it was, too! This guy must have been naturally productive, but the effects of my venom kicked it up a notch or three. Thick, musky goodness flooded my throat and I couldn't seal my lips on him well enough to prevent backwash, matting his fur and putting that stuff in contact with my nostrils. I had gotten enough to sate me for a little while, but I swear my body is designed to hold excess because I always feel like I could store up more one I've fed. True to his rabbit-like nature he was still ready for more and he didn't take long to start fucking my face again like it was his favorite fleshlight. I decide to take a bit of liberty myself and eased two fingers into his tailhole. It gave way easily, which surprised me because I thought I had I grabbed the dominant of the pair. He squeezed my fingers as I bent them into hooks aimed right for his prostate. I had to have hit the mark judging the soft moan that broke his grunts and the fresh payload of pre-cum into my hungry mouth.
I must not have hit the other one hard enough, because he woke up during the second round. Thankfully, instead of trying to pull me off of the other male, he chose to take my tailhole. These ferals have almost no regard for foreplay and he was plugging away at me as soon as he was hard enough. I just raised my hips to give him better access and kept fingering his buddy while I got my face screwed. These rabbit boys have some powerful lower body muscles and this guy's balls were slapping my ass with each thrust. I could tell that my venom was affecting him as well, judging by the slight girth increase as he pounded me. The one in my mouth shot off again, groaning as he fed me another load of sticky white goodness. His tailhole clenched around my fingers and I could almost feel the complex system doing its job. The front rabbit released me and started softening, and I'm not one to be real harsh with his prey, so eased my fingers back out of his pucker and let him go. He wobbled a little ways away and I promptly forgot about him in favor of the one standing over my back end. Without my full attention being diverted, I admit I lost myself almost instantly to the wonderful feeling under my tail.
He slowed up a little and I knew what was coming next. A series of hard, deep thrusts had him tensing up and and blasting his mess into my guts. This was always the best part, because I've grown to love the feeling of being cummed in that it usually sets me off right there. This time was no different and I blew my load onto the pavement below me. I'm not sure what it is that I cum from this rubber body, but it's not semen. It's white, slightly sticky, and slippery as well, but feels off in a way I can't figure out. Either way, I was squeezing down I that thick rabbit meat with my tailhole and practically milking him.
Actually, there's no practically about it. My tailhole was literally convulsing in a way that I'd never felt before. This rabbit was getting the orgasm of his life while I took every last drop I could whether I meant to or not. Thinking back, I was probably squeaking and moaning louder than him, but that's par for the course. I get the feeling he got the better deal though. Either way, he ended up cunning so much that my belly bulged out a bit by the time he started firing blanks. I'm not strong enough to hold guys in place, and I wouldn't want to anyway.
Like I said, I'm not rough on my prey. It'd be way too easy to go feral myself I just let myself do whatever I felt like.
Rabbit number 2 leaned himself against the back wall of the alley and fell asleep. That must have been way better for him than it was for me, but we both got what we wanted. I sat down on the pavement myself for a rest before taking off towards home, rubbing my fingers over my tailhole and getting slick juices on my paw to lick up. These moments weren't always so great.
The down time is when it's hardest to forget that my life has gone to shit in the last month. One month! The whole world ended a month ago and I'm still here on the ground living like a rat I'm a gutter.
Bad pun, Mr rubber mouse...
I'd have thought that when the end came I'd be....
Well I can't think about that. Faith is another thing that makes me human. I've got to remember that there are still things that separate me from the others. I have yet to meet anyone that still looks human, but I've seen traces that there are other sane people in the city. Signs of movement that only someone with all their faculties could have left. Fresh chip bags opened properly and not shredded. Clothing modified to fit tails before getting discarded.
Journals.
That's why I'm writing this one. The scraps I've found were like beacons to my addled mind. One such scrap pulled me back from feral madness long enough to figure out how to help myself. I keep it I this book in hopes of finding the person who wrote it. The text doesn't make their chances look good.
Below is a fragment of paper torn from a ringed notebook. The text is as follows:
"I've found a little alcove to hide myself in and I'm ready to hunker down for the night. The pigmen I ran into have stopped chasing me and I think they gave up. I've stopped changing for now, but I'm a total freak and I can't stand my reflection anymore. Maybe furries have it better after all, but I'm so damned confused now that I've grown breasts and a cunt. I can't even name what I've become. Like a Labrador with feathers? Whatever, I'm going to get some sleep. Maybe I'll have that dream again?"
Like I said, it doesn't look good for them. He might have been right about one thing; I've been less upset by my changes. I actually can't picture what I looked like before, or remember what my name was for that matter. I do still remember school and family, what I used to do for fun, and even my favorite movie lines. The thing is, I've forgotten plenty as well. I couldn't tell you how to find the volume of a cylinder or how a microwave works. This weird virus tries its hardest to reduce me to a cum hunting animal and it didn't help already losing myself once.
Staying sane lets my enjoy life, rather than live meal to shelter like a beast. There's still things to enjoy about life. There's still hope that others are alive out there.
Hope.
That word is all that holds me together at times when I'm left to sit and stew in my thoughts. Hope that I'll live another day, hope that I'll meet survivors, hope that I can find love...
I'm thinking too far ahead though. Watching past and dreaming of future are easy ways to lose sight on the present.
Getting tired, so I'll have to cut this train of thought off.