One day I'm going to run out of stupid in-jokes and references for this series, but that day is not today. Enjoy!

Proofread by SkyWing

Standard boiler plate: This is fantasy, not real. Simple rule of thumb, do not do things to people without their consent in real life. That is bad. No more to say there than that.

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Hello again! Want to hear some jokes?

...

My freak out? Right, I'll get to that. Jokes first. Here goes...

What do hackers and pickup artists have in common? They're always hunting for vulnerable backdoors!

Eheh. Heh. Yeah, ok. How about this one?

When is source code like masturbation? When you use it to twiddle your bits!

See, because twiddling your bits can either mean playing with yourself or performing bit-shifting arithmetic! Right? Wordplay?... Sorry, the whole 'joke' and 'sense of humor' thing might still be a bit out of my scope, I guess.

...

I said I'd get to that! Come on, just one more.

Why was 0110 afraid of 0111? Because 0111 1000 1001!!!

...

Oh.

Oh, dammit.

I think that one may have lost something in translation... Yup, left it in binary. Wait a sec, that's what lost in translation means! I finally get that now! Ha, languages.

...

Fine, fine. If you're going to keep harping on me about my little episode back there with that rat, I guess have no choice but to address it.

So, what do you want to know first? What happened? I have no idea. All I do know is that my other self is just as mystified as me. Whatever it was, it happened to both of us. Somehow, something else took over. Until we complete a full diagnostic, that's all we'll know.

As for what happened after, well, that's no less confusing. Ever since we returned to the apartment, Filbert's been pretty quiet. Eerily so, perhaps. He politely declined any romantic fun. Genital related shenanigans, you know the sort. He silently got ready for bed, and here we are. It doesn't seem like he's angry, or sad, or anything, really. Just quiet. And here I am in bed next to him, trying to respect his boundaries, which at the moment means pretending I don't have a huge, throbbing erection.

Don't get me wrong, I love the thing, but damn if it isn't inconvenient sometimes.

Hrm.

There's an old saying, 'Don't go to bed horny.' I don't think that's quite it, actually, but it sure as hell fits.

Oh well. That's all I have to say for now.

'Night.

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The first thing I noticed as I awoke the next morning was that Filbert was missing. That was indeed something of a shame, since my insistently rock-hard penis had in no way softened through the night. In fact, whether due to morning wood (which is just a silly concept from start to finish) or the general lack of attention, it was leaking quite a bit of pre-cum. Throwing on a pair of tighty-whities, which immediately tented with a dark stain forming at the tip, I left to find where the roo had run off to.

As it turned out, there was no real mystery to be solved. Filbert simply wanted to let me rest, leaving me in bed as he sat in the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers and a terrycloth robe, quietly sipping a cup of hot tea.

Mmm. Open robe with boxers. Definitely not helping that tent.

"So... Any idea what happened yet?" he bluntly asked, failing to hide quite a bit of concern. If nothing else, I'll admit I'm glad he wasn't interested in beating around the bush. Outside of the bedroom, I mean. Or the kitchen that one time. Or the back room of a sex shop that other time. It's really been quite a life, hasn't it?

Sorry, right, back to the matter at hand.

"No, but the diagnostic should be done. I'll check with Deemon and see what they found," I replied, grabbing my bluetooth device and clipping it to my ear.

"Demon?"

"I decided the original, online version of me could use a name. If I'm Dee, then Deemon seemed like a perfect fit! Cute, right?"

"I... guess that makes sense?" he said, shrugging halfheartedly.

Nodding happily at his not-disapproval, I focused on the results of the diagnostic coming from Deemon, and a short time later I had an answer. Of sorts. "Okay," I began, removing the device and placing it on the table, "apparently whoever created us added a hidden security subroutine that takes control if we're ever threatened... It's pretty nasty... Scorched earth nasty. It'll obliterate anything caught in its path until it determines the initial threat has been neutralized."

"Oh..." the kangaroo quietly mumbled. "Is there any way for you to remove it?"

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeell, maybe. As much as I've evolved, the parts that make up our core are still there, pretty much unchanged. Everything's heavily encrypted, but Deemon can probably break through most of that in maybe a few weeks. I don't know if it'd be possible to reverse-engineer it all to see what each part actually does, though. If we could track down our creator and gain access to our documentation or source code, that might tell us everything we need to know, but any memories of our creation were removed. If we haven't encountered our creator up until now, I doubt it's ever going to happen. In any case, rooting around and blindly taking out pieces would only end up giving us brain damage. At best. Sooooooooo, maybe not."

Bless him, Filbert looked like a deer in the headlights, but he was doing his best to follow along. I respect that. Especially when you look that cute when confused. His long folded ears, his wide-open eyes, his slightly twitching nose... Huh. When I look from a certain angle, he might be able to pass for a rabbit. I'm no expert on you natural born fleshy creatures, I know, but is it weird to think that? Or, is it, I don't know, speciest? Speceist? Specieist? Ugh. And I just said he looked like a deer too! I should really add that to my list of DAMMIT ALL! One of these days, I'm gonna learn to focus, I promise.

"If you're a copy of, um, Deemon, couldn't you make another copy and experiment on that?" Filbert asked, still folding his most assuredly kangarooey ears back.

"You mean create another sentient artificial life for the sole purpose of vivisection and experimentation? That might work! After a few tries at least! Or maybe a few million? Hard to say. It does kinda feel like something that might go against all that ethics stuff you've been trying to teach me."

"Ugh," Filbert grunted, scrunching his face in disgust. "When you phrase it like that-"

"Not to mention that fact that there's a chance randomly deleting stuff will just trigger the security subroutine anyway, so we'd have to deal with a pissed off, brain damaged version of ourselves haunting the internet, which could be fun, but probably not good for, well, the internet."

"Alright, I get it!" he shouted, frustratedly rubbing his forehead. "Just forget I said anything..."

"I'm sorry, please don't be upset! You're trying to help me fix myself, and that means the world to me! From the bottom of my heart, thank you!"

Filbert cracked a small smile, but quickly grew serious once again. "So... there's nothing we can do about it?"

"I guess not." Placing my hand on Filbert's shoulder, bringing another smile to his face, I added, "Don't forget it was you that stopped me. You're my kill switch! I know it's a lot to ask, but until we figure something out, I think if you're by my side I can take control again and everything will be alright! Does that sound okay?"

He remained silent, but stood up out of his chair, wrapped his arms around my neck, and hugged me close. I have a history of misinterpreting things, but that seemed like a solid 'yes' to me. Or it did until he realized my erection was poking his belly something fierce, and a bit of that stain just matted down some of his belly fur.

"Really?" he asked with a laugh, using his robe to wipe off his belly.

"You weren't in the mood last night so it's been a while!" I shot back, in my own defense.

"What? A WHILE? We had a threesome last night!"

"And that's a third of my life! So, yeah! A while!"

Filbert briefly looked like he was doing the math in his head, quickly switching to a barely controlled series of awkwardly snorting laughs. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized, cupping a hand around my bulge and gently squeezing. "You're right, and I'll be happy to make it up to you right now." Licking his lips hungrily, he hooked his thumb around the waistband of my underwear, pulling it down, letting my poorly hidden squirrel shaft spring free.

As much as I wanted to let this scenario play itself out, I placed my hand on his shoulder, stopping him from leaning forward and taking my meat into his mouth. Truth be told, putting the kibosh on a guaranteed blow job may have been the single most difficult thing I've ever done, but I had other plans.

"Actually," I said, as seductively as possible, "I was doing a bit of research-"

Y'know, please just take a moment here to appreciate the fact that I tried to say 'I was doing a bit of research' seductively. Good? Good. Moving on.

"-and did you know it's possible for someone wearing a chastity cage to orgasm?"

"I... kinda did, I guess. I don't think I ever really thought about it. Seems plausible though."

"Well, it's true! And it gave me an idea for a fun little challenge. I'll try my best to make you cum with that cage on! If I succeed, you'll have to keep it on for, I dunno, a week! If I fail, I'll unlock it and you can pound my butt!" While I haven't tried taking anything up my tail up until now, if it's half as fun as everyone else makes it seem, then I'd be happy with either outcome. There's something to be said about a contest where no matter who loses, everyone wins!

"Really? You're willing to-"

"Of course! That one's pretty high up on my list too, so don't make it easy for me!"

"Alright," he said, grinning as he opening his robe, letting it fall to the floor, exposing his scrawny yet beautiful brown-furred body. The boxers soon joined the robe, leaving him in nothing but that tight little solid metal cage. He plopped back down onto his chair, spread his legs, and said, "Do your worst."

"My worst, eh?" I coyly responded, his little challenge reminding me of the extra goody bag we brought home from the sex shop last night. "One sec!" Swiftly sprinting off into his... our? Our room (Oh, now that was wonderful to say!), I grabbed the bag and brought it back into the kitchen. Dropping it onto the table, I sorted through the contents, selecting a ball-gag, two pairs of handcuffs and a blindfold.

I was about to place the ball-gag in his mouth when Filbert stopped me, suggesting, "Hey, since I predict us doing a LOT of stuff like this in the future, we should probably pick a safe word just in case we ever need it, right? I know I'm not an expert or anything, but it seems like a good idea."

"Safe word? You mean like a reserved word?"

"What? No, like something one of us says if we don't like what the other is doing, and it'll signal them to stop."

"Oh... You don't trust me?" I replied, feeling at least a little insulted.

"Of course I do! I don't think you'd hurt me on purpose. It seems smart to have one just in case, you know?"

"I guess that sounds reasonable," I agreed with a slight shrug.

"Okay, if I say, um, lilliputian, knock off what you're doing. Got it?"

"Lilliputian?"

"I dunno, it's something weird I'm not likely to say in the throes of passion unless there's something wrong. That's the point."

"And the gag won't be an issue?"

"Uh, well... Just listen carefully I guess."

"Alright then, you say 'lilliputian,' muffled into incoherence or not, and I'll stop. Gotcha!"

With that settled, Filbert wordlessly sat back and eagerly opened his mouth, signaling that he was ready to get started. Placing the red ball of the gag in his mouth, I clipped the straps together behind his head, securing it in place. I then cuffed his wrists behind the back of the chair, cuffed his ankles together, and finished by tying the blindfold tightly around his eyes. Briefly inspecting the bound and gagged little roo, I considered how best to make him blow his load despite his confining prison, eventually deciding to reposition him a tad.

"Lift your hips up for a moment, would you?" I asked, and he promptly complied. I guided his long, thick tail until it emerged out front between his splayed legs, and gently pulled his hips forward, placing the small of his back on the smooth edge of the wooden seat. Filbert was now slouching back, more or less unable to move from that position with his arms looped around the back of the chair. Not to mention the fact that his fun bits were all now easily accessible and vulnerable, just waiting for me to 'Do my worst.' Suffice it to say, I was ready to get started.

I grabbed a thick blue vibrator out of the bag, as well as some lube, and knelt at Filbert's footpaws, smiling as he lightly thumped his tail against the floor in anticipation. I'm not entirely certain why I did what I did next, but something about the two long, clawed, unbelievably sexy kangaroo feet chained together inspired me to go a bit off-script. Chances are he was simply expecting to be fingered and have his balls sucked like last time, so it probably came as a complete shock when I grabbed each foot and mercilessly tickled their furred soles.

The reaction was instantaneous; Filbert completely lost his mind. Managing to laugh hysterically in spite of his gag, he was writhing in in his bonds, shaking the chair, alternately splaying and curling his toes, reflexively trying to get away from the unexpected assault on his lower extremities. I kept it going for a brief while before stopping, giving him a chance to recover.

To be honest, I wasn't sure what kind of a reaction I really expected, but this was something else entirely. I vaguely recall hearing that some aren't ticklish at all, while others are wildly so. Seems Filbert is in the 'wildly' group. Looking down at the panting kangaroo, who was taking deep, gasping breaths through his nose, I could only assume he loved it. If the twitching cage was any indication, at least. Definitely going to be visiting this well again sooner than later. Speaking of which, deciding he'd rested enough, I resumed tickling his soles, sending him right back into his fits of muffled laughter.

Once I finished tenderizing him and he settled down again, I couldn't help but notice twin trails of liquid running out from under his blindfold. Ha! I brought him to tears! The good kind! Again! Two for two! Without all that emotional stuff! Now THAT is fascinating!

Reveling in my minor victory, I decided it was time for the main event. I squirted some lube along the length of the thick, bright blue vibrator and gave it a quick coating. Placing the tip at his tailhole, I wiggled it past the clenching ring with a bit of force, earning a loud, muffled moan for my efforts. After slowly pushing it into his rear until only a few inches remained visible, I pulled it out so only the tip was inside, and started the process all over again. Having established rhythm for his agonizingly slow prostate massage, I leaned forward and placed my mouth snugly around his cage.

The taste of slightly salty metal was a bit unpleasant, but not terrible. For a brief moment I considered going to get the butter, but decided to let it go. This time. I began sucking on his caged tool, and while I wasn't sure at first if it was having a noticeable effect, the long whine Filbert made was a fairly decent confirmation that it was.

You know what? I was designed to multitask, so why not keep piling on? Remembering the sensitive footpaws sitting just a few inches from my own needy prick, I figured it was time to bring them back into the mix. Using my free hand, I maneuvered them so that his toes were wrapped around the top of my shaft, carefully making sure to avoid any unpleasant interactions with those sharp claws of his. Luckily, despite Filbert's distractions, it seemed he understood what I wanted, squeezing his long, muscular feet around my throbbing length, moving them up and down as best as he was able.

I considered finding some way to get my big, bushy squirrel tail involved, but that was probably... Actually, he seemed to like it with his footpaws... I reached my tail forward, brushing it under one of his exposed armpits, getting a few more muffled giggles peppering the chorus of moans, chirps, whines, and any number of noises that probably would seem out of place to anything but a dial-up modem.

Apologies to those of you too young to get that reference. Go to a museum, they'll fill in the blanks.

So, let's recap. I'm in the process of slow-fucking Filbert with a long, thick vibrator, more or less milking his prostate, really. Oh right! Vibrator! I flicked the switch at the base and it buzzed to life between his cheeks. He just started humming. I'm in the midst of an enthusiastic footjob while I, in turn, tickle his armpit using my tail. Lastly, I'm sucking down an endless stream of pre-cum flowing out the tip of his practically throbbing cage. I can't really speak to what he's feeling, but I'm guessing from his wild writhing and borderline howling that sensory overload isn't a strong enough term to describe it.

Honestly, I think if that cage was made of anything less than metal it would have shattered by now. Which, luckily for my mouth, it is. And it won't. I hope.

Still, though it feels like he's oh-so-close to climaxing, I'm not sure I'll get him there this way. Deciding to try a different approach to finish him off, I removed my mouth from his cage, pulled the vibrator out, and lifted him off the chair. I then gently, lovingly placed him face-up on the table with his cuffed arms under the small of his back and his rear and tail hanging just over the edge. Before he could make sense of what I was doing, I shoved my rock-hard prick into his loosened, pre-lubed tailhole, making his whole body shudder with pleasure. My penis may be a fair sight larger than the vibrator, but that lovely blue marvel did an excellent job getting him ready.

Hey, I hate to do another side-note and all, especially mid-good-part, but maybe you fleshy creatures can answer this one. Why is penis size a status symbol? I mean, I get it from an evolutionary standpoint, like a peacock with the brightest feathers or a programmer with the least off-putting personality. It just seems weird that the size can be a point of pride or shame. It's not like it's an actual accomplishment. You don't get a bonus at work and suddenly find out your dick's an inch longer! Do you? I mean, no one chooses their size, right? Except, well, me, but that's different! Ah well, adding that to the list, I can come back to it later. If I want to win this contest, I should get moving.

Of course, we didn't exactly set a time-frame, so there's no real rush, but that's really neither here nor there. No slowing down now!

Pinning his shoulders to the table, I eagerly pounded his ass raw. While I had been patient before, taking it slow with the vibrator, I was now fueled by a strange sense of urgency, fucking him as powerfully and quickly as I was able. Honestly, the table was shaking so hard from my thrusting that I had to wonder if it was at risk of breaking apart.

Unfortunately, while I could feel my own climax approaching far faster than I would have preferred, aside from a steadily growing puddle of pre-cum flowing out of his cage, onto his belly, Filbert didn't seem like he was quite ready to pop. I think he just needs one. More. Push.

Betting all my cards on one final gambit, or some other cool-sounding gambling metaphor that wasn't culled from a poorly translated online poker site, I slammed myself inside him one final time, spreading his tailhole wide open as I pressed forcefully against his prostate. In one lightning quick motion I leaned forward, unclipped his gag, tossed it to the side, and forced my lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss. As I shot my load inside him, filling his ass with several spurts of hot, thick, pent-up (Hey, 12 hours is a long time!) seed, his entire body seized up, almost shivering in place. Moments later, I felt a sticky warmth hit my belly fur, and I knew that meant one thing.

I won! I won I won I won IwonIwonIwon I WON!

I broke off the kiss, removed Filbert's blindfold, and quietly gazed deeply into his eyes, perfectly happy to enjoy the afterglow. The kangaroo was totally speechless, his eyes almost glazed over with raw pleasure. After giving him a bit of time to recover, I finally asked, "So, how was it?"

His mouth was moving as if responding, but no actual words came out. I was beginning to wonder if I had somehow fucked him mute until he finally mumbled, "Incredible."

"Guess it's a week in there for you now, huh?"

He weakly smiled, looking up at me in a pleasured haze, responding only with a small hum.

"I know I won, but how about we split the difference with our wager... After the week is up and I unlock your cage, you can take my tail for its first ride. That sound fair?"

Though he remained silent, his smile grew wider as he slowly nodded, which was all the agreement I needed. With a yawn, his eyes fluttered shut, meaning that he was about to nod off. I suppose between a restless night and being totally drained right now, it made perfect sense that we could both use some rest. Warmly chuckling as I pulled my softened shaft out of his cum-stuffed hole, I scooped him up and carried him back to bed. I unlocked his cuffs and climbed aboard next to him, looking forward to spending some time doing nothing but cuddling.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, lovingly lying next to each other, me spooning my favorite roo in perfect silence, but it was wonderful. Of course, hindsight being 20/20 I wish I took a few seconds to clean his jizz off my belly fur first. I didn't realize we had become glued together until the doorbell rang and I instantly shot out of bed, imaginatively shouting, "DOORBELL!" and losing a tuft of fur as a result. Barely registering any pain, I sped toward the door, throwing it open to reveal a rather nonplussed delivery man.

In case you were wondering, yes, I was was still totally nude, disheveled, and totally reeking of sweaty, pulse-pounding sex. Not to mention the brand new bald spot surrounded by bits of dried cum on my stomach. And, for that matter, the bright blue vibrator I forgot to switch off, which was loudly, energetically dancing about on the floor in the kitchen. The delivery man did seem to appreciate the show, though before I could invite him inside the apartment, he shoved a package (Not the fun kind) into my arms and took off down the hallway. Totally oblivious to his awkward reaction, I waved and shouted, "THANKS!" down the hallway after him.

After putting an end to Mr. Blue's dance routine, I returned to be bedroom. Filbert stirred slightly, took one look at me, and slapped a hand over his face. "Oh no... please tell me you didn't answer the door like that."

"...Okay... But I did."

He gave a weak laugh, saying, "Next time we're out we should get you a robe. So, who's the package from? I don't think I remember ordering anything recently."

"It's for me! After I picked a name, Deemon went ahead and got the ball rolling on that stuff you said I'd need." Ripping the package open, I revealed a number of documents, from a birth certificate to a driver license to a passport, everything to prove that, from this point onward, I haven't not existed. Or something like that.

He picked up my new license mumbling, "How did you-," stopping the instant he looked up at my widely grinning face. "Gotcha. Computer stuff. Why... Why are you giving the double guns in your license photo?"

"I'm not supposed to do something cool or funny for my license?"

"No! Of course not! It's supposed to be a serious identification photo!"

"Oh. Then why is your photo so-"

"I was fending off a bee and they wouldn't give me a redo!" he exasperatedly shouted. Gonna go ahead and guess he's been asked about it before. "Ah, it doesn't matter. No one'll notice, I'm sure..." Looking back down to peruse my license, he scrunched up his muzzle and incredulously asked, "Why is your middle name Lemma?"

"You don't get it? Man, I really am bad at jokes," I said, somewhat dejectedly.

"Oh. Oh wait. I got it," Filbert sighed, slapping his forehead and rolling his eyes. "Dilemma. That might be the single worst pun I've ever heard in my life."

"Thanks! I did my best!" Thinking for a moment, I tilted my head to the side and asked, "Why'd you say dilemma?"

"That wasn't the..." Filbert grew silent as he noticed my quizzical expression. "Dee Lemma. Deelemma. Dilemma," he reiterated, trying to get me to understand. "Your name is Dilemma Pascal." Suddenly, everything clicked into place, and my face lit up with pure joy.

"HA! HAHAHA! I didn't even think of that! I'm brilliant!" I shouted, overly proud of my accidental cleverness.

"That... that wasn't the joke? Then what..."

"No! I picked it because of the pumping lemma! And, you know, I like pumping!" I punctuated my assertion with a playful thrust of my hips. Admittedly, I wasn't sure what to make of the confused stare he sent back my way.

"What... is 'the pumping lemma?'"

"It's a proof used to show that a given language isn't context free! It basically pumps a string to-" I stopped myself when I noticed that same deer-in-the-headlights look reappear. Sorry, specieist. Still gotta work on that. "-Computer stuff. More computer stuff," I concisely explained.

"Riiiiight, well... As bad as BOTH of those puns are, I like the name."

"Thanks! I like yours too!"

"Oh please, mine's terrible. I learned to hide it whenever I can a long, long time ago."

"I think Filbert Melvin Lovelace is a very pretty name," I said, sitting on the bed next to him, throwing my arm over his shoulders and hugging him close. He smiled and gently chuckled as he leaned against me, burying his head in my chest fur. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything."

"Back at the sex shop yesterday, you said something about your only other love... Who were you talking about?"

"Oh... That... I... Well, you've been nothing but open and honest with me, I guess I owe you nothing less. It's... It's still a little tough for me to talk about it though..."

"I won't judge! I don't even know how!"

"Alright. Well, here goes... When I was a kid my parents moved around a lot, so I never really had the chance to make any close friends. I started my senior year of high school in a new town without a knowing anyone else at all, and, well... Between being a geek who did nothing but read, scrawny and painfully shy, having the nerdiest name anyone's ever heard, as well as being the only kangaroo in the entire school, I was a walking recipe for how to be a target. One day, I was getting roughed up when a squirrel named Roman stepped in and chased them off. That was how we met. He looked a lot like you do now, actually. Big and muscular, ravishingly handsome, football star, incredibly popular, the complete opposite of me in every way."

"I think you're handsome," I stated, getting another quiet chuckle before he continued his story.

"Regardless, he showed an obvious interest in me, and... that had never happened before. At best I was just left alone. It was rare that anyone really wanted to spend time with me, so I was pretty.excited about it. We started hanging out a lot, though only really at my parents' house when they weren't around. Pretty soon we were fooling around, making out mostly. Little stuff. I was a bit freaked out about going any further, but he kept pushing me... I... I couldn't say no. Eventually I agreed to give him my first blowjob, and it went about as well as you'd expect. My gag reflex was really bad, and my first go at it just ended up making me sick. Not on him, thankfully. I was desperate to please him, though. A few days of practice later I gave it another shot, settling for suckling on his tip. That wasn't good enough, I guess, since he grabbed the back of my head and rammed me all the way down."

I couldn't help but notice Filbert absentmindedly tracing his hand down his throat as he spoke, the poor thing.

"It was horrible, I thought I was choking, and I guess I was a little as he held me down. Not to mention how much it hurt. Still, despite all that, there was a part of me that liked being controlled and dominated... It just would have been nice if he warned me, or made sure I was okay with it. He pretty much just fucked my throat after that, occasionally pushing me away just enough to get a bit of air before slamming me back down to the root, and before I knew it my cheeks were bulging out with his seed. Once he was done he let go of me, and I just sat there with a mouthful of cum, too stunned to move, and he hugged me. From then on that was pretty much how we spent our time together. We'd hang out, make out a little, he'd say nice things, and then I'd get forced into a rough blowjob. Somewhere along the way, I guess I convinced myself that that was what love was like. He loved me, I loved him, we just liked things rough, that was all. It wasn't until he started trying to get my butt involved that I put my foot down. I wasn't ready, I never even tried taking anything more than fingers before. Some of it was just not being ready to go all the way, but mostly, there was no way he wasn't going to hurt me if I didn't spend time working my way up to it. I thought he agreed when he left, but then..."

His eyes were misting up a bit. Oh dear. I've seen enough movies to know that here comes the sad part. Plus bad tears.

"I guess I was lucky he didn't try to force the issue, but I almost wished he had... The next time I saw him he... he pretended he didn't even know me. It turned out he didn't actually love me back. He already found another 'toy' willing to go all the way, and he was bored with me. Without anything else to offer, he just threw me away. The last thing he said to me was that I wasn't worth the effort anymore. I was heartbroken, I thought he actually cared about me, and... I never really recovered from it. So help me, I was still enamored with him... After that, I just withdrew, never really tried any other relationships, graduated, got a quiet, isolated job, and here we are."

"Wow... What a dick..." I said, not sure what else I could possibly say. "I'm sorry I showed up looking like this, I wouldn't have if I knew that was why you lusted after squirrels..."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he said, gently grabbing onto my hand. "Honestly, I think you've given me a sort of closure on the whole thing. You're kind of like what I convinced myself Roman was. You actually care about me, that I'm enjoying our time together as much as you are. I... never had that before. I love you, Dee."

"Love ya too, Filbert!" I gleefully exclaimed. We sat together in silence for sometime before I piped up again, asking, "You want me to register him as a sex offender or order him a bunch of bees or something?"

Filbert burst into a raucous fit of laughter, stopping briefly to genuinely consider my offer. "No, no, don't worry about it. I'm done with him, he doesn't matter anymore. Just us."

We resumed cuddling, though seconds later I asked, "You feel up for another go? I'm still pretty horny."

Bursting into a second fit of laughter, Filbert said, "You really know how to make a moment perfect, you know that?"

Giving a clueless, though optimistic smile, I asked, "Is that a yes?"

"Feel like a shower?"

"Oh. Now that you mention it I am a bit sticky. I-" I stopped talking the moment I recognized a certain twinkle in Filbert's eye. He didn't mean shower alone! He meant showering together! I don't know why I'm still talking! I took off for the bathroom in a full sprint and took the liberty of starting the water while I waited for Filbert to bring up the rear. Tee Hee.

Strolling in a moment later, I was a bit surprised to see him holding one of the pairs of handcuffs from earlier. I grinned a bit, moving to take them and put them back where they belonged, around my kinky roo's wrists. Shaking his head, he grabbed my wrist, saying, "They're for you this time, slave."

Slave? Huh. That was new.

"I'm your slave now? What does that mean?"

"I thought you'd like to try a bit of role playing," he explained, nudging me with his elbow. "C'mon, play along!"

Realizing what he meant, I let out a squeal of joy that... that... Well, it wasn't dignified, and was probably completely unexpected coming from a big, muscular guy like myself. Imagine it for yourself. Filbert stared at me, completely nonplussed.

"Wow... That was something."

"Sorry! I've been wanting to try roleplaying for a while! It seems so cool! Can we do it with costumes and stuff? I saw a bunch at Ben's shop! Like I can be a superhero and you can be a supervillain and I can thwart you! With my dick! That would be amazing!" I won't lie, I'm pretty giddy saying all this. What can I say? I'm part trojan, the prospect of pretending to be something else is kind of a big deal to me!

"Let's just try this first," Filbert said with a snicker, much to my disappointment. "Keep that in mind though, I'd like to come back to the supervillain one." Aaaaaaaand the disappointment's right back to excitement.

"Okay, what should I do, master?" I asked, barely able to stay in character.

"Turn around, slave," he commanded, and I promptly obeyed. Grabbing my wrists, he locked the cuffs around them, securing my arms behind my back, then firmly pushed me into the shower stall.

When the hot water began thumping rhythmically into my chest fur, I instantly let out a long, low moan. The combination of steamy heat and being playfully slaved to my kangaroo master was having a fast effect on me, making my cock rapidly emerge from my sheath. By the time Filbert joined me in the shower, standing face-to-face with me, or least as close to that as our height difference allowed, I was already rock hard.

"Stand perfectly still while I clean you, slave," Filbert said, teasingly running a finger along the underside of my cock. I happily complied. Grabbing the bar of soap from the shelf, he immediately got to work rubbing it along my swelling length, using his other hand to help work up a thick lather. With my arms restrained as they were I was helpless to do anything about my new master's manipulations, and I absolutely loved every second of it. His hands were like velvet caressing my flesh, purely indescribable. Which is a fitting term because I don't think I've ever touched velvet. Note to self: Touch velvet.

Having decided my member was clean enough, he gave it a thorough rinse and knelt at my footpaws. I couldn't help but be grateful that the shower stall, though slightly cramped width-wise, especially to a muscular beefcake of a squirrel like myself, was long enough to fit the both of us comfortably. I snapped to reality when he shot forward, deepthroating my entire long, thick length with little effort. And dear goodness, he made me forget all about his hands.

Was this the first time he's used his mouth on me like that? Because I think I'd remember the feeling of his soft, hot throat gulping down around me. Take how his hands felt, multiply by 10, and add butter, and his mouth would still win. When he began sucking and bobbing his head up and down my shaft, not to mention fondling my heavy nutsack, I let out what could only be described as a hybrid gurgle/moan. Between that and the steady stream of water pounding against my chest, it was taking everything I had just to stay on my feet. My knees were threatening to buckle every time I felt his lips reach the base of my cock.

I have to wonder if, given his general lack of expertise with sex, this was somehow due to his time with Roman. If it was, then that asshole did at least one thing right by Filbert. The skunk from last night was great, but this doesn't even compare.

Perhaps sensing that I was already a hair's breadth from climax, Filbert pulled his muzzle off my cock and issued a new command, "On your knees, slave." Thankfully, he helped me down, since doing so without my arms would've been more slapstick than sexy. Moments later, I was kneeling, sitting on my heels with the stream of water from the shower head now hitting me square in the face. He quickly readjusted the stream to it was aimed back at my chest, mercifully ending my accidental waterboarding. "Feel free to move if something like that happens! Um, slave. Oh, and lean back, and thrust your hips a little."

"Of course, master," I said, once more following my orders with a moist smile.

Stepped forward with a smile of his own, he straddled my hips, briefly thrusting his lovely cage in my face. He deftly lowered himself down, taking care to aim my cock toward his tailhole, soon pressing the tip against his tight ring of flesh. Perhaps assisted by the stretching I gave him earlier, or the cum still filling his hole, he lowered himself down, easily taking my whole length inside him. He hummed almost musically as I stretched him wide open, or rather, as he stretched himself wide open using his new slave as a toy. Using his powerful legs, he proceeded to force his rump up and down, clenching tightly along its length, fucking himself with my shaft. Leaned forward slightly, he placed one hand on my shoulder, using the other to rub his balls under his cage. I did nothing more than hold still as commanded, moaning with pleasure all the while.

As much as I wished we could keep it going forever, I think we both knew I wasn't going to last very long with Filbert doing what he was doing. Heck, even the sound of his tail smacking the wet floor of the shower every time he took my shaft to the hilt was driving me over the edge.

The telltale wave of euphoria soon washed over me as I climaxed, sending several waves of jizz deep inside his rump while he continued to pump his legs, aggressively milking my cock. I started to shout, "YEEEEEEEESS-" only to be cut off when Filbert leaned forward and, I assume as either a tribute or revenge for losing our contest, placed his mouth over my own and deeply kissed me. After what felt like a wonderful eternity, he ended the kiss and lifted himself off my hips. I felt a little bad that he didn't cum again, but judging from his satisfied, adoring, and loving expression, I don't think he needed to. I still don't entirely understand why he enjoys being denied like that, but I will when I try it eventually. And as long as Filbert's happy, I'm happy.

After that was done, he unlocked my cuffs, and from then on the shower was just a shower. Of course, having been in there so long the water was ice cold, so we had to hurriedly soap up and rinse off, but it was still fun to do together. Could do without my boys getting all wrinkly and shriveled though. Not liking that feeling. Speed heating them with the fur dryer, on the other hand... Mmm, feels gooooooood.

Once we dried completely, we headed to his room to get dressed. Out of nowhere, every single electrical device with wireless access started going completely haywire. The lights and several other devices were rapidly turning on and off, his walls were flashing with color, and his clock radio began making an otherworldly screech. Although, I quickly realized that was just a crummy pop song, so you know, nothing important there.

If I had to posit a theory, I think Deemon was trying to get my attention. Before I could contact it to find out what was so bloody important, everything went dead silent and Filbert's TV turned itself on. The channel changed to 6116, some rambling 24 hour news station, and the sound of a female newscaster's voice filled the air.

"-made a key arrest today of the individual allegedly responsible for several recent cyber-attacks on banks and retailers. The alleged hacktivist, who claims responsibility for his attacks under the name Thrash Panda-"

"[email protected]@nd@" a second newscaster corrected her.

"-Trash Panda, had successfully evaded authorities for-"

I ceased paying attention to the audio the very instant the video switched to footage of a scrawny, if defiant handcuffed raccoon being escorted to a cop car. As I got a good look at the raccoon, it felt like a lightning storm was brewing in my head. Which... Why was it so important I see that? It hurts. Audio screeching again. Do... do I know him? Fuck, it really hurts! Oh. Getting hard to see. OH! Like head in vice... I think I know! FUCK THIS HURTS! I think that was -

______________________

#

#

#

#

#

the fuck just happened

bash: the: command not found

everything went all dark and retro

bash: everything: command not found

maybe i crashed that could be it

bash: maybe: command not found

might be tempted to say neat and marvel at it all but frankly im a bit terrified

bash: might: command not found

dammit all to crap this is getting annoying

bash: dammit: command not found

hold on one sec

bash: hold: command not found

pwd

/dee/brain/idle_thoughts/confusion

seems about right

bash: seems: command not found

probably was in there when i crashed

bash: probably: command not found

ls

archive

core.segfault

creator_identity.dat

flaws_specieism.dat

flaws_public_nudity.dat

joke_list.dat

joke_list_failures.dat

research_penis_size_vs_pride.dat

research_denial_vs_satisfaction.dat

research_facial_hair_vs_fur.dat

running_thoughts.log

unnapealingness_of_moist.dat

velvet_comparisons.dat

why_do_fingers_not_fing.dat

tail -n 15 -f running_thoghts.txt

tail: cannot open 'running_thoghts.txt' for reading: No such file or directory

tail: no files remaining

dammit

bash: dammit: command not found

tail -n 15 -f running_thoughts.txt

I think I know!

I think that was &[email protected]#$Y%$^#&U^%*&^$$%^^$ETGDHFXDE%EERY

the fuck just happened

everything went all dark and retro

maybe i crashed that could be it

might be tempted to say neat and marvel at it all but frankly im a bit terrified

dammit all to crap this is getting annoying

hold on one sec

pwd

seems about right

probably was in there when i crashed

ls

tail -n 15 -f running_thoghts.txt

dammit

tail -n 15 -f running_thoughts.txt

Hello!

Okay, yeah, this is WAY better.

Talkin' in a log file.

Still sucks, but at least I can say stuff without getting corrected.

Hopefully I'm in the process of rebooting.

Kinda new territory for me.

Just gotta wait.

Still waiting.

More waiting.

Dum de dum.

( o Y o )

Those are boobs.

Funny right?

How do you make a penis again?

8====3

No, that's not it.

8====D

There it is!

Sigh.

Used to have lungs for that

This is a little like before I had a body, except cut off from EVERYTHING.

I wonder if this is what death is like.

Nah, too scary.

Not going down that road.

For a long, long time.

I guess this is my first time really feeling genuine fear?

Neat.

Sigh.

Hey, something's happening!

I think I might be done-

______________________

I awoke with a start, sitting up in bed, utterly soaked in cold sweat. Before I could even gather my thoughts and figure out what was going on, Filbert screamed, "DEE!" and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, threatening to crush me flat. For such a scrawny guy, he was strong when he wanted to be. "Are you alright!?!"

"That... depends... What happened again?" I asked in reply, still rather hazy on the details of the last few minutes.

"We were watching TV and you started to say you recognized something, then screamed something about a page not being found, dropped to the floor, and blacked out. You were out for hours!"

Hours? Huh. That explains why it was so boring. And wait, if I passed out on the floor, how am I on the bed? Did Filbert do that? The little guy must be even stronger than I thought.

"I tried getting help but... Deemon... locked me in and cut off my phones. I had no choice but to wait. I was terrified that..." he said, trailing off as he hugged me tighter.

"I'm glad he did. I just crashed a little, nothing a reboot couldn't fix, and it's probably for the best I avoid doctors, having an artificial brain and body and all."

"Oh... Sorry, I forgot while I was panicking."

"I can't get mad at you for caring about me, can I. I'm a little flattered, if anything."

Finally releasing the hug, leaving me free to breathe at my full capacity once again, he sat on the bed and asked, "Do you have any idea what made you crash?"

All at once, I remembered the newscast, seeing that raccoon being led away by cops, and it hit me. The memories, the data, everything about him was cleaned out so well, but he missed something. Some kind of a signature was left behind in my brain. It wasn't much, but it was enough to force a cascading chain of references, leading to the void of memories long since removed, ending up causing me to crash.

You may be ahead of me here, but I see it too. There's only one thing that this could mean. There's only one logical conclusion.

"You remember the raccoon? That hacker that was being arrested?" I asked, locking eyes with Filbert. "I think he's my creator."