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"thumb_large_noncustom_y": "200", "thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "229", "thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "300" } ], "pools": [], "description": "The fact doesn't escape me I'm living out one of those old black and white horror flicks. But here I am, eating my ex's leftovers while staring through my own legs at the shapes my ass is making in the sofa. It's these little things that fascinates me, which befuddles me why the eggheads insist running the same tests over and over instead of exploring the actual limits of 50's science come true. I mean, our government wanted the ultimate assassins, you guys might wanna narrow the kinks out. Oh well, seems it's up to me to figure it out.\n\nFor instance, I stare at the lack of reflection in the hand mirror seemingly floating mid air. I angle it to see where my face should've been by the mush of masticated dough, cheese and salsa. It all swiftly disappears the moment I close my mouth. The first test subjects, Dr Khan had mentioned were complete failures due to ingested food remaining visible. Poor Dr. Noel wanted so bad to capitalize on this with a documentary about digestion, but given everybody is under threat of death if they uttered one word about the project...\n\nAny-who, the one thankful kink of the refined formula. They fixed it so that the epidermis visually refracts anything caught inside. I meticulously lick the roof of my mouth and gums, my saliva wiping evidence of the remaining solids like some invisible paint gag.\n\nSo mental rule #15: No eating for an hour before making the kill. Check. ...same principle as swimming.\n\nAlthough I see nothing else in the reflection, I dab a tissue across where I felt my lips. And presto! Grease and salsa. Which leads to another round of failure on the first test subjects. The body was invisible, but any dust particle trapped in the fur remained visible. Not exactly a desirable traits for would be assassins.\n\nI'm glad we got Dr. Khan, she's the only one with a real brain instead of all these nepotists. Doubly so she had me wait before introducing the second version. My skin and fur, or rather the evident lack of it in my vision, is in which the body reacts to turn miniscule particles invisible upon contact. However, any muddy clumps or smears exceeding 69 grams of weight can't bond with the biological camouflage.\n\nMental Rule #22: Wipe your feet before sneaking inside on a rainy day. Check.\n\nMental Rule #23: Wipe your hands before sneaking back outside. Check.\n\nAlas, thanks to this discovery after the food fight, the project had to rework the methodology how we get the job done. The weight limitation means it's impossible to sneak any weapons or tools in the target's house. So at the moment, the eggheads are trying to come up with everyday items we can improvise as murder weapons.\n\nIt's a right mess to be honest, given we can't so much as wear clothing with the weight problem. Harold's got weird standards when I think back on it. Was willing to kill the kids, but drew the line doing it with his dongle hanging out...even though not even he can see it. Seems like the project is gonna need to find sociopathic nudists who knows how to use toothbrushes as a weapon.\n\nGood thing Dr. Khan lucked out with me. I always let loose during the summer to save on the A/C bills much to my ex's disapproval. Fer Christsake Giselle! I wasn't hinting you to undress with me. I was trying to save us money! And guess what, pissing me off with false assumptions only makes me want to actually vent it off by--!\n\n...Case in point, it sucks when the place you gotta infiltrate is chilly with the nude requirement. Hence why I turned Giselle's thermostat to the opposite direction. From the feel of it, it's not gotten hotter than outside. Good.\n\nI feel my lips twist into a grin hearing a familiar engine approach the driveway. I repositioned Giselle's hand mirror back where I had found it, and discarding the used tissue into the bin. Forensically stupid, I know. But it's occurred to me that fingerprints and DNA trails does nothing if the suspect needs infrared vision to be seen. That was the point of the project after all. \n\nNow let's see...quickly reprogram the thermostat back to normal settings, but delay the A/C from activating to make it look like the ventilation broke when she checks. She never could figure out the advanced features.\n\nThe driver's door slams shut. 18 second window. Take up up the stairs, to get past those unavoidable creaks. I hold back laughing, making due with a closed smile as my ex practically whoops in shock the moment the door opens. All that hot air rushing out I imagine, must be worse than a baked car left out in the sun.\n\n\"Oh, don't tell me...\" Giselle drops her handbag and scatters her paperwork across the ground to inspect my sabotaged work, \"No, please don't break of all days.\"\n\nOh how I missed her voice, those cute little whines she makes. Compared to my mild discomfort thanks to the lack of overalls, must've been unbearable for her. I cock a brow seeing her cross the first temptation so soon, unbuttoning her suit in a hurry. I reasoned it was inevitable given the mentality people do in their privacy, especially on hot days.\n\nMean spirited breakup aside, I warmly admired her body as more fur and skin was being unwrapped of its encumbersome cloth. Thinking back on it, I can see why she thought I was aiming to bang her with my efforts to save on the bills. Even though, she should've taken that as a compliment.\n\nBah! This sour nostalgia is messing up my libido. I couldn't see it, but I felt my stages of arousal occurring as Giselle was down to her blouse and undergarments. Even with her back turned, I elect to remain still, knowing the slightest friction of my feet on the ground may give me away, robbing me of the opportunity to make my imagination made real. \n\nWondering if she regrets breaking it off. Looks like she didn't follow through the promise of finding another man. I hope it occurred to her I was probably the only one who could put up with her. I can just imagine the approaching moment she wished I was here to save her from the supernatural monster. Or maybe, if she recognizes how I feel all over her...my lower region throbs from all these what-ifs.\n\nThe sounds of the shower signals the next phase, the running faucet muting out my silent approach. Just take a cold shower, she would always say. A fair argument Giselle, if we weren't trading one utility bill for another. It was as maddening as when she drove halfway across the city and back for those dollar refunds without thinking about the gas fee she wasted in the trip. And now her weird habit works in my favor, the cold water emits no steam to reveal my entrance, not that she would know behind the curtains.\n\nI thought back to the rare moments she invited me to join her in the shower, or when she invited herself in. I rather enjoyed when her flesh turned prickly and firm under the cold water, making every curve all the more enjoyable to grope and pinch. I make out her general shape through the curtain. If memory served me correctly her back is facing the shower head. That leaves up behind her since the water's...wait, I can work with that.\n\nPoor Giselle must've been too fatigued from the heated trip to hear the curtains parting open. Normally upright, the weight of the water matting the rich fur drags it down. She remains still, one hand clutching the opposite hanging limply, but otherwise focusing on the cooling sensations of the water and drowning out every else. I would know, the absence of seeing my own body tends to make one more aware of tactile sensations.\n\nWhich makes the water hitting my backside all the more overloading. The cold splashes an instant murderer of male erections if it weren't for my anticipation keeping it at full mast. Giselle's ears flip to attention, coming to awareness none of the water was hitting her back anymore. I allowed her just a glimpse, of her attacker whose body repelled the water. Huskied and built, months building my physique for the sole motivation she cannot hope to overpower me. If only some of the water had trailed down my face she may have recognized me.\n\nAn undampened hand catches the rodent lady off guard, and I regard the impressions my fingers make around her throat with as much fascination my has had done with the sofa. Her own hands flail blindly, unable to locate the arm to pry loose from the tightened airway. I don't just squeeze, I pull, forcing Giselle to back into my pent up member. The shower may have been chilling, making Giselle's warmth all around me stand out. If anything, the cold stream pelting my back may serve to inhibit a premature climax. I want to make every minute of this last between us.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "The fact doesn't escape me I'm living out one of those old black and white horror flicks. But here I am, eating my ex's leftovers while staring through my own legs at the shapes my ass is making in the sofa. It's these little things that fascinates me, which befuddles me why the eggheads insist running the same tests over and over instead of exploring the actual limits of 50's science come true. I mean, our government wanted the ultimate assassins, you guys might wanna narrow the kinks out. Oh well, seems it's up to me to figure it out.

For instance, I stare at the lack of reflection in the hand mirror seemingly floating mid air. I angle it to see where my face should've been by the mush of masticated dough, cheese and salsa. It all swiftly disappears the moment I close my mouth. The first test subjects, Dr Khan had mentioned were complete failures due to ingested food remaining visible. Poor Dr. Noel wanted so bad to capitalize on this with a documentary about digestion, but given everybody is under threat of death if they uttered one word about the project...

Any-who, the one thankful kink of the refined formula. They fixed it so that the epidermis visually refracts anything caught inside. I meticulously lick the roof of my mouth and gums, my saliva wiping evidence of the remaining solids like some invisible paint gag.

So mental rule #15: No eating for an hour before making the kill. Check. ...same principle as swimming.

Although I see nothing else in the reflection, I dab a tissue across where I felt my lips. And presto! Grease and salsa. Which leads to another round of failure on the first test subjects. The body was invisible, but any dust particle trapped in the fur remained visible. Not exactly a desirable traits for would be assassins.

I'm glad we got Dr. Khan, she's the only one with a real brain instead of all these nepotists. Doubly so she had me wait before introducing the second version. My skin and fur, or rather the evident lack of it in my vision, is in which the body reacts to turn miniscule particles invisible upon contact. However, any muddy clumps or smears exceeding 69 grams of weight can't bond with the biological camouflage.

Mental Rule #22: Wipe your feet before sneaking inside on a rainy day. Check.

Mental Rule #23: Wipe your hands before sneaking back outside. Check.

Alas, thanks to this discovery after the food fight, the project had to rework the methodology how we get the job done. The weight limitation means it's impossible to sneak any weapons or tools in the target's house. So at the moment, the eggheads are trying to come up with everyday items we can improvise as murder weapons.

It's a right mess to be honest, given we can't so much as wear clothing with the weight problem. Harold's got weird standards when I think back on it. Was willing to kill the kids, but drew the line doing it with his dongle hanging out...even though not even he can see it. Seems like the project is gonna need to find sociopathic nudists who knows how to use toothbrushes as a weapon.

Good thing Dr. Khan lucked out with me. I always let loose during the summer to save on the A/C bills much to my ex's disapproval. Fer Christsake Giselle! I wasn't hinting you to undress with me. I was trying to save us money! And guess what, pissing me off with false assumptions only makes me want to actually vent it off by--!

...Case in point, it sucks when the place you gotta infiltrate is chilly with the nude requirement. Hence why I turned Giselle's thermostat to the opposite direction. From the feel of it, it's not gotten hotter than outside. Good.

I feel my lips twist into a grin hearing a familiar engine approach the driveway. I repositioned Giselle's hand mirror back where I had found it, and discarding the used tissue into the bin. Forensically stupid, I know. But it's occurred to me that fingerprints and DNA trails does nothing if the suspect needs infrared vision to be seen. That was the point of the project after all.

Now let's see...quickly reprogram the thermostat back to normal settings, but delay the A/C from activating to make it look like the ventilation broke when she checks. She never could figure out the advanced features.

The driver's door slams shut. 18 second window. Take up up the stairs, to get past those unavoidable creaks. I hold back laughing, making due with a closed smile as my ex practically whoops in shock the moment the door opens. All that hot air rushing out I imagine, must be worse than a baked car left out in the sun.

"Oh, don't tell me..." Giselle drops her handbag and scatters her paperwork across the ground to inspect my sabotaged work, "No, please don't break of all days."

Oh how I missed her voice, those cute little whines she makes. Compared to my mild discomfort thanks to the lack of overalls, must've been unbearable for her. I cock a brow seeing her cross the first temptation so soon, unbuttoning her suit in a hurry. I reasoned it was inevitable given the mentality people do in their privacy, especially on hot days.

Mean spirited breakup aside, I warmly admired her body as more fur and skin was being unwrapped of its encumbersome cloth. Thinking back on it, I can see why she thought I was aiming to bang her with my efforts to save on the bills. Even though, she should've taken that as a compliment.

Bah! This sour nostalgia is messing up my libido. I couldn't see it, but I felt my stages of arousal occurring as Giselle was down to her blouse and undergarments. Even with her back turned, I elect to remain still, knowing the slightest friction of my feet on the ground may give me away, robbing me of the opportunity to make my imagination made real.

Wondering if she regrets breaking it off. Looks like she didn't follow through the promise of finding another man. I hope it occurred to her I was probably the only one who could put up with her. I can just imagine the approaching moment she wished I was here to save her from the supernatural monster. Or maybe, if she recognizes how I feel all over her...my lower region throbs from all these what-ifs.

The sounds of the shower signals the next phase, the running faucet muting out my silent approach. Just take a cold shower, she would always say. A fair argument Giselle, if we weren't trading one utility bill for another. It was as maddening as when she drove halfway across the city and back for those dollar refunds without thinking about the gas fee she wasted in the trip. And now her weird habit works in my favor, the cold water emits no steam to reveal my entrance, not that she would know behind the curtains.

I thought back to the rare moments she invited me to join her in the shower, or when she invited herself in. I rather enjoyed when her flesh turned prickly and firm under the cold water, making every curve all the more enjoyable to grope and pinch. I make out her general shape through the curtain. If memory served me correctly her back is facing the shower head. That leaves up behind her since the water's...wait, I can work with that.

Poor Giselle must've been too fatigued from the heated trip to hear the curtains parting open. Normally upright, the weight of the water matting the rich fur drags it down. She remains still, one hand clutching the opposite hanging limply, but otherwise focusing on the cooling sensations of the water and drowning out every else. I would know, the absence of seeing my own body tends to make one more aware of tactile sensations.

Which makes the water hitting my backside all the more overloading. The cold splashes an instant murderer of male erections if it weren't for my anticipation keeping it at full mast. Giselle's ears flip to attention, coming to awareness none of the water was hitting her back anymore. I allowed her just a glimpse, of her attacker whose body repelled the water. Huskied and built, months building my physique for the sole motivation she cannot hope to overpower me. If only some of the water had trailed down my face she may have recognized me.

An undampened hand catches the rodent lady off guard, and I regard the impressions my fingers make around her throat with as much fascination my has had done with the sofa. Her own hands flail blindly, unable to locate the arm to pry loose from the tightened airway. I don't just squeeze, I pull, forcing Giselle to back into my pent up member. The shower may have been chilling, making Giselle's warmth all around me stand out. If anything, the cold stream pelting my back may serve to inhibit a premature climax. I want to make every minute of this last between us.", "writing": "", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "", "pools_count": 0, "title": "The Hidden", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/jpeg", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" }, { "content_tag_id": "5", "name": "Strong Violence", "description": "Strong violence, blood, serious injury or death", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "1", "type_name": "Picture/Pinup", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "1", "views": "1197" }