“Hi?” Before I realize it, I have the sheet covering up my shriveling cock. “I’m sorry.” The tiger’s voice is deep, soothing. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.” The way he’s smiling makes me doubt that a little. “It’s okay,” I reply reflexively. Years of being told I have to accommodate others coming into play. My hand tightens on the sheet. He just watched me jerking off, and that’s what I’m worried about? My ears move as my face heats up in embarrassment. I reach up to check on them—folding back like that can’t be good for them—and my hand stops as I start at it. At the fur, the color, the stripes. I turn it over and smile, the thought that a guy watched me jerk off evaporating as I admire it. Right, why, exactly, am I feeling shy here? I stand, let the sheet fall to the floor and give the tiger in the wall window and eye-full. Which he takes, and I can’t help fidgeting as he smiles. “Just call me Uncle.” “Really?” The oddity of dream logic makes me chuckle. “Okay, I guess that’s cool.” I head to the…sort of door-like depression next to the window. I mean, this is my dream, so I am not staying cooped up in here. Nothing happens when I stand before it and there is no keypad, or button, not even a plaque for me to place my hand on and have the door recognize me. I lean over to the window. “How do I open it?” “Maybe you should wait, Kristoff.” “No, I—” I stare, mouth agape, as what he called me registers. “Wait. Kristoff is my name here?” “Yes.” The way he stretches the works really doesn’t carry confidence. “Kristoff Orr. If you prefer, I can call you—” “No!” I giggle, realize what I did, and turn it into a cough. “Kristoff is fine.” I turn the name over in my head. Kristoff Orr. “I like it.” I like it a fuck ton more than— Nope, not thinking about that in here. The tiger in the window—screen?—looks at me, seeming confused. I smile reassuringly. “It’s fine, really.” The dream narrative is what’s important right now. I lucked out by not waking up from the orgasm, so I’m not going to push against any of it. This dream is going to last as long as I can make it. And really. It is a cool name. He still looks uncertain. “Maybe I should explain why you’re here first. You see, when—” “No. No.” It’s so fucking hard not to scream my objection. “I don’t need to know about any of that.” Whatever it is, it’s just going to make me thing of—nope—and if I do, it’s bound to wake me. “Can you just open the…door?” I run my fingers along the edge. “You don’t want to know?” He sounds dubious. “Don’t you have questions?” Can he read my mind? Duh. It’s a dream. “Maybe… like why you look the way you do?” The way I do? I look down at myself. Does the dream expect me to be curious about itself? That would be weird, because any questions will just make me think of—and that’s just going to bring the dream to an end. Can dreams want to end? I smile at my lustrous cream white belly fur going down the inside of my legs, bracketing my flaccid cock—hey, I’m a shower in here. Cool. I look up and smile at the tiger still studying me cautiously. “No, not really. I’m good with it. Well, I do have one question. How do I open the door? What’s on the other side?” I look around him, but it’s black, like they put a box around him so I couldn’t see anything else. “Are we in a building? Are you outside?” somehow I can’t keep from making it sound like an accusation. Him being outside and me stuck in here. It’s my dream, I should— His sigh is deep and heavy. “Yes. You are most certainly part of this family. No patience what so ever.” The door…opens. I mean, it’s no longer there, but I don’t pay attention to that. “I have a family here?” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Of course. Why else would we have taken you from—” “That’s cool!” what is it with this dream and always trying to bring up—that other place. Just talk about the dream stuff, will you? I do not want to wake up. I step out of the room. I’m in a corridor. It’s kind of disappointing that’s it is. The walls are pale green, the floor is a thick brown carpet I can sink my toes into, but it’s all so plain. I thought my dream could manage something…more. To the left it just goes on, featureless walls as far as I can see. To the right— “Where did you come from?” my heart beats so fast I put my hand over my chest to contain it. The tiger there looks at me, puzzled. No, not a tiger. That’s who I was talking with. I check the wall and it’s as featureless as the rest, except for the door to the room I was in. “Were you standing there the entire time we talked?” He looks around, as if he’d forgotten where he was, then at himself. He had on a pair of cream-colored slacks that were more toward beige than the white of our fur. His poked out at his neck from the white shirt. “I suppose I was, in a manner of speaking.” “What does—” the window at the end of the hall catches my attention, and I step around the tiger to head there. “Kristoff.” I keep walking. “Kristoff!” I stop, realizing I’m the only one he can be addressing. That it’s the name he said I had in this dream. I turn to face him. “Sorry, I forgot it was my name.” He studies me. “Are you should we don’t prefer I use—” “Nope. Kristoff works fine. I like it. Don’t worry, I’ll get used to it.” His expression looks skeptical, with the lips pursed on one side and the way his forehead fur bunches like he’s frowning. The tilted ear might add to that, but I have no idea how to read that and it seems that the dream isn’t making me know those things. He motions up and down in my direction. “Maybe you should put something on?” I look down and nothing’s changed. My cock’s still there, soft, but plump, hanging over my balls. Why does he think I have to… Where I am registers and the embarrassment that always hits me when I’m naked in public in my dreams strikes. It doesn’t matter, it’s just the two of us, and that he’s watched me jerk off already, or that there are no other doors than mine. The hall could fill itself any second now. It might even turn into the school hall. God was that dream embarrassing. No clothing to be found in the locker and everyone watching me. My hand drops over my groin. “Maybe I should.” He, I mean Uncle, motions inside the room. “You’ll find something to wear in the open cabinet.” I pause in the doorway and lock eyes with him. “You better not close the door behind me. If you do, I’m…” I narrow my eyes so he’ll know how serious I am. “Going to be really annoyed at you.” Oh, great return. Very threatening. How am I supposed to threaten a dream tiger? He definitely looks amused. “I give you my word. The door will remain open.” I search his face for sign of duplicity. I search a tiger’s face for that. What exactly does a duplicitous tiger look like? For all I know, he’s the most honest of them all. “Really annoyed,” I say, to be sure he knows I’m serious. Is molestation a valid threat to a tiger? And I hurry inside as my cock twitches at that idea. He might have watched me jerk off, but it’s probably not a good idea to have him think that my hand in those pants, cupping what looks like a substantial— How about I think of something else? Pants, I’m here to put on pants. Which are in the open cabinet. Only there isn’t a cabinet, open or—only there’s an open door in the wall now. I swear it wasn’t there before. The only thing in the…closet is a pair of pants that already has a belt looped in. No shirt, of socks, or shoes even. I definitely don’t look down to confirm that my feet look relatively normal, other than the fur and claws. I’m pretty sure seeing my really nice cock isn’t going to help it go down. Instead, I reach for the pants and look my arm over. The sheen in the fur, the vibrant orange and black the…muscle? I put a hand over my biceps and tense it and—Holy Fuck! It bulged. Not just hardened slightly like before, but pushed my hand away. I tense both arms and the fur moves enough I can make my muscles out. I mean, I won’t win contests with those, but still. Muscles! I tense my chest and my pecs inflate enough I have to lean forward a bit to see my cock again. I tense my legs and— Uncle clears his throat and I barely control the startle. “When you said you wanted to see more than the room, I didn’t think you meant admiring yourself.” There is a definite chuckle in there. I grab the pants and stare at the opening about the length of my hand in the front. There’s no zipper or buttons. Does he seriously expect me to walk around with my junk hanging out? Isn’t the point of putting on pants to cover myself up? I turn. “What’s up with—” and notice the buckle on the opposite side of the opening. Well, duh. Of course, there’s an opening at the back. I didn’t want my tail stuck inside the pants. Talk about uncomfortable. Still, the opening is kind of long just for that. A guy could easily slip his cock in and fuck me. And there goes my cock again. Okay, I am going to have fun with that in this dream. But later. Right now, I have to put this on and explore. Getting my tail in that hole took way more work than it should. No wonder it’s so long. I grab it at the base and as I slide my hand to the end, the pants drop to the floor. I moan, and my cock goes rock-hard. Fuck. “Is it supposed to feel this hot?” I ask Uncle, who’s leaning against the doorjamb. His answer is a knowing smile Okay, focus. On putting the pants on, not stroking your tail. This takes a lot more work now, but I get the tail in the opening, the pants up to my waist and… how do I tighten the belt? The buckle’s just there, almost more to tell me which side’s the front than to do anything to the belt. Before I can ask how it works, the waist tightens itself until it’s nice and snug. No wrinkles, and no indication of what happened to the extra fabric. Right, dream. Seems that for all the places where it’s determined to follow realistic rules, this is one it doesn’t care about. A check behind confirms that long hole is now closed snug against the base of my tail. So much for a guy cuddling to me from behind and— Let’s think about something else. “Are all the pants this cream color?” The only difference between our pants is that his belt is a darker brown and seems to be leather, while mine is fabric. “I can change the color, if you want.” “It’s fine. Just curious.” I point to the closet over my shoulder. “Don’t I get a shirt?” Uncle grins. “I think you look quite good like this.” My ears fold back as my cheeks burn. Why do I do this? It’s a dream. I shouldn’t be embarrassed at a compliment like that. My hand covers my stomach, only it’s abs that I feel, instead of fat. I have abs. I run a hand over them, really well-defined abs too. I’m ripped. Why would I want to cover this up? My grin matches Uncle as he steps out of my way and I exit the room. I don’t look around this time. I go for the window. I have trouble breathing as I look at the never ending expanse of water. I press my forehead against the glass—and nearly hit the end of my muzzle in it first—and look down. And down. And down. I’m so high, I can’t see where the building touched the ground. Wow. I step back. “How do I open the window?” There’s no door, but a leap out and it’s a plunge into the water. “You can’t,” Uncle says. “It’s against safety regulations.” “Really?” a safety conscious dream? Since when? “Well, that sucks.” I ignore what looks like his puzzled expression and look out again. “Where are we?” from this high, with only water, it has to be the ocean. “Within the Orr Corporate Headquarter.” “Orr Corporate?” Uncle’s next to me. “Yes.” I didn’t even notice him step there; too focused on looking outside. “And that’s my last name, right?” This time, the ‘yes’ stretches, making it sound uncertain. I guess he has no idea where I’m going with this. “So, my family’s right?” “I guess?” he sounds confused now, so I don’t press. I don’t need to know how we made our money or what it is we sell. Not that it matters. This is a dream. It’s just nice not to have to worry about that for once in my life. “That’s cool.” I nod to the outside. “Which ocean is this?” “The Pacific. The building stands on the Cisco Islands.” I try to place the name, but nothing comes. It’s not like I know even a minuscule fraction of all the islands out there. And this is a dream. For all I know, the islands are named after Cisco Networking. “Kristoff?” This time I know it’s me immediately, and I glance at him. “Maybe it’s time for you to meet your family?” The word brings up a lot of bad memories. Disapproving looks. The utter lack of privacy. The talks about living up to their expectations; doing what they knew was best for me. I’ve heard stories about families where that isn’t how things go. Even knew guys who said they had such families. “Do I have to?” My voice is weak. I think there’s pleading in the tone. Uncle’s reflection looks at me. “I suppose it can wait.” He gives me a small smile. “But they are eager to meet you.” “They are?” I barely stop myself from asking ‘why?’ why would anyone want to meet someone as pathetic as me? But that’s the other me. The one from— I focus on my reflection. Bright green eyes, ears snapping up and forward. Muzzle covered in orange, black and white fur. Yeah, here, when I don’t forget I’m dreaming, it makes sense they’d want to see me. It’s my dream, so it’s got to be the family I’ve always wanted. Well, maybe not. There’s all those little ways this dream doesn’t follow what I want. I’m good looking, but not the adonis I’ve dreamed of being. My cock’s nice enough, but it should be way bigger. My family here might not be perfect, but it’s got to be better than anything I’ve lived with before. I smile. “You know what? I think you’re right. It’s time for me to meet them.” Uncle turns and I follow him nowhere near as far as I expected to a door that I swear wasn’t there when I looked before, which makes sense. This is a dream. It wasn’t needed until now. The door opens as I reach it and I step in. I freeze. The gasp travels as heads snapped in my direction. There are tigers before me. A lot of tigers standing from couches and chairs. They are all looking at me. Their expressions make it through my surprise. Shock, happiness, lewdness. The giggle that escapes me is utterly nervous. My escape is foiled as my back hits the closed door.