I will swear on my life this was real. It happened. But I'm taking it to the grave. Cause no one would believe me even if I did tell them. It was winter. Snow storms the likes we've never seen hit us without warning. I was hit hard. That good ol’ mouse anatomy. Small, thin, wiry. I wasn't made to stand the cold. My friends laugh at me for needing jackets even into late spring. It saps my strength. I get lethargic and slothish.


But that’s, that’s not the point. The point is, is that it was cold and I was shivering. Three duvets and my heaviest coat and I could still feel it. It sank to my bones. I, I just, I don't know. I could taste it. God, that just sounds stupid. But I can't explain it. It was like the cold was… alive. And it freaked me the fuck out.


It was late. I, I was turned away from my clock so I don't know the time. All I knew was that it was night since those piss yellow street lamps showed through gaps in my curtain. And that I wasn't alone.


There was someone there. Some Thing there. It was behind me, in the darkness. I knew it in the way my body responded. My limbs were tensed in a way I couldn’t explain! I couldn't move. I could not even breathe! Like I was being hunted, like I was just about to be eaten. And I couldn't move. My brain, every survival instinct in there told me that I needed to move, run or I'm going to die. And despite that fear, that adrenaline, that fury bursting through my system I was, don't laugh, frozen solid.


My walls, they shrank away from me. My nightstand was miles away. Phony shadows swirled on the walls. Demons that tortured my paranoid and paralyzed mind. But none more than the devil that stalked me. It neared me. Came to my side. Hovered at my neck. But it didn't touch me. I wanted to cry.


And just like that it was gone. Like a spring loaded trap, I spun to face my demise. My neck must have gotten whiplash, it hurt. But it was gone, whatever it was. It sank back into whatever foul corner of hell it crawled up from. Probably the deepest level, I hear that's the coldest.


I don’t know if I was honestly able to see my breath in the air or if that was just another hallucination.


Night two, I had all but convinced myself it was a dream. A nightmare more like. Fantastic and terrifying, but not real. So I settled down for another long winter’s nap, but I didn’t realize at the time that I only needed one heavy blanket.


I laid turned towards the side of the room that it came from the night before. It lead to my bathroom, and my closet, and all those mundane things that just make it seem so normal. But in the dim glow of ethereal piss yellow wisps and ambient electronic light, even the most mundane seemed otherworldly.


I don’t know when I noticed I couldn’t move again. But it was probably around the time I became aware that my foot peeked out from the blanket. How I hadn’t noticed before still eludes me, in the same way logic eludes this story, I know. But all of a sudden, IT was there. At the foot of my bed.


My eyes were able to move. They were the only things that could. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to look or not. To see death in the face, to see your fears realized before you. Or hide away, like a mouse. Pretend it wasn’t real, pretend it was a dream.


Some courage from some heavenly realm must have impressed itself into my core and fueled what I could only describe as the riskiest action I have ever taken. I looked at it.


It was grotesque! Wafting, oily smoke that congregated into five limbs, two heads, no three hands, thirteen eyes, no it was, uh, uh. Did it have horns, maybe antlers? It, it doesn’t matter. All I knew is that it had a mouth, and a tongue. And I knew I couldn’t see it breathe.


My own chest pounded as I felt like suffocating. Like I was submerged in darkness made real, and it made to snuff the life out of me. I felt, once again, close to death. But I wasn’t going to cower, to shrink away from this prick. This hellspawn. This frozen fucker. It came into my damn house, my fucking room, and stood there acting like it owned the damn place. Fuck It!! I scowled at it, I felt my nose twitch, brows furrowed, with my best look of anger. Of resolve. Of ‘get the hell out of here before I tear each and every one of your incorporeal limbs from your body!’


I think it laughed at me. I think. It’s, it’s hard to describe how it moved or didn’t move. It was like it stood still and the room revolved around it. My posters behind it rippled like water disturbed by stones. It’s head, or heads, or whatever collapsed towards my foot. I couldn’t see as it disappeared below my body. But I did feel it. A cold I’ve never felt before nor since, or, well not since, but we’ll get there. I said how it felt alive. I said how it felt leaching into my bones. What I wasn’t prepared for, was how amazing it would feel.


Slimy tongues are wet with saliva. I guess devil tongues are like frozen fire. A frigid force able to trick you, or me, I guess, into feeling hot! And it felt hot. It felt warm. It felt like burning candles within my paws. My eyes shot open, drying out from the chilled air. I, well, this is a bit personal, I’ve never felt that… pleasure before. That kind of novelty that you never thought you’d experience. That you never thought was possible. For a moment, I thought, maybe the cold wasn’t so bad.


And it licked again. Again, and again, and again, and again. It licked at my heel, at my ankle, at my toes that splayed as in between its tongue went, at my instep. Lapping at the valleys of my flesh. Hadn’t I been wearing socks? I don’t remember. It doesn’t make sense. I couldn’t make it make sense. I could only let it go on. Tasting each and every pore like I was the tastiest morsel for a ravenous monster. I guess I wasn’t ‘like’ anything in that moment. I was being tasted. And it felt good. And it felt cold.


Day three, or night three, I suppose. I made sure I was covered, toe to neck. Thick wool socks and two hoodies! It wasn’t going to get me this time. I wasn’t going to just let it slobber on me like that! I may be a mouse, but I’m not a puppy dog who will roll over and beg after getting just a scrap. I positioned myself on my back. Don’t ask me why I didn’t, I don’t know, sleep with the lights on. Or on the couch in my living room. Or anything like that. I guess, I was being challenged. And I didn’t want to lose. Does that make sense?


My popcorn ceiling looked so distant, the tiniest ridges and bumps were like hills and valleys. So wide the expanses between them. So deep the shadows that laid between them. I don’t think I was afraid, this time, I was prepared. What was there to be scared of? So when the shadows on my ceiling bubbled and boiled, despite the overwhelming bitter air, I knew it was coming. I smiled and thought ‘bring it on’.


It stalked down the wall. Inverted as it sank talons into the rough surface. It seemed more concrete, less… smokey this time. At least it only had one head to look at. No eyes though, or nose.


I kept my defiant smile, let it rot away knowing that I wasn’t going to let it have its fun this time. I was covered, I was warm, I wasn’t going to let the cold get to me. I was also cocky, arrogant, and, well, an idiot.


It got inches to my face as I realized my mistake. In all the worry about my feet, or limbs, or tail, I forgot about my head. My eye twitched as I struggled, rebelled at keeping my face straight. My lips felt frozen together. The tip of my nose subzero. Streams of mist languishing in the space between it and I. The wisps of mouth, just a seam in a never static cloud of shadow, smirked. I wanted to punch its smug, high and mighty, pretentious face! Blast it back into whatever cave it decided to dwell in.


But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe it. It was going to lick me again.


Now, I wasn’t able to see it last time, I didn’t know how its tongue looked. But I realized that I thought of it as an appendage, like I have. No, not even remotely. It’s just more of it! That inky, vaporous, lump of ghoul. It dashed across my nose. I had to scrunch my face, every piece of it to brace against the frigidity. And the euphoria.


It felt so nice. It felt so crisp. It felt so POWERFUL! It felt like the ravaging storms that render great and gentle alike to their knees in submission. I felt so, so, horny for it. I wanted it to lick me again. Cover me in its disgusting slobber and make me burn with passion!


And it did. It didn't stop at my nose. It licked up my snout, tangled through my whiskers. I started twitching with anticipation. It pulled off my face, wrapping its way down the sensory hairs. I started shivering, the rumbling seemed to attack my whole body at once. It stole my breath and will. It corrupted my mind, with fervor, with desire. With guilt.


I wanted more! And it gave it to me. The tongue grew as it kissed at my cheek, the smallest drops of the coldest affection. Tapping its way along my cheekbones as it tasted me. Ingraining and ingesting my flavor. Stealing my heat to burn my memory in its black heart. It flicked at my temple. Gritting my teeth I realized where it was headed, to my big ol’ floppy ear.


I still wasn't prepared for when it dug in. Only able to silently gasp and see stars among the ceiling textures. There was no mass or sound or indication of anything. Just the chill of the dead that radiated around my the barest flesh available.


I wanted to lean closer, to acknowledge it and how it made me feel, to scream as my muscles and nerves struck against the paralysis that bound me. But I couldn't. I could only sit and feel it sink deeper and deeper into my ear canal. Boring its power and presence deeper into me. Shivering all the while.


And then it was morning, no monster, no residue, no evidence. Save the raging morning wood tenting my pajamas. And the conflicting feelings of guilty pleasure.


That day was slow for me, and I had a lot of, of emotions flooding my systems. A lot of struggles, a lot of… urges. All over some damn phantom from a waking dream! At least, I hoped it was a dream. I wanted it to be over and done with it. Let it lie in the past like a ghost and haunt me no longer. But I had to be sure, sure it wasn't real and sure it wasn't just my horny, sex starved, imagination.


Night four, judgement day, or night, I guess. I laid up on my mattress, again facing the ceiling. No sleep came for me, to whisk me safely from this world of uncertainty. It stranded me, a little mouse, bare of blankets and clothes save my boxers.


I was obviously shivering, there was a blizzard just that day, and it piled snow high enough to block the piss yellow street lights. So I was alone in the dark.


My, I'll say, rational mind wondered if perhaps the cold wasn't the source of my shivers. If that instead it was fear, or nerves, or maybe even… excitement. Now, I wasn't popping a boner or anything! Cause, cause that would be weird. Oh, who am I kidding? This is all weird!


But I was doing it, I was committed. And I was scared, and nervous, and excited. So when I blinked and felt, sensed, its presence there, at the foot of my bed. I was terrified and relieved. Cause I finally wasn’t alone. And cause I wasn’t alone anymore.


Without the light, the discoloration of space to line its limits, I had no idea where it was. But I knew it by the aura it gave off, the sheer ripple of its presence that it was at the foot of my bed. I gulped, trying to get my erratic breathing under control. Each breath stammering along with my meager, vulnerable form. I kept licking my lips only to feel them start to crack as the all too familiar chill dried them out.


And then it moved. I will swear the bed creaked! But it could have just been the pounding of my heart. The mattresses shifted under the weight of some creature foreign to the reality that lights the day. It was at my ankle. The second arm pressed near my opposite hip. I tracked the unseen predator with my eyes, surveying for anything that I could to see it, to know through some other sense it was here. As a third limb pressed right above my shoulder, I broke all composure. Gripping my trembling hands in prayer, I begged all gods and goddesses known and forgotten for their protection, silent pleas that I’ll live to see the morning come.


Nothing further happened for some stretch of time, I couldn’t say how long. Just that it stared at me from above, hemmed me in by its legs I’m sure. A sense of chill calmed me down, body slowly falling still as shock finally numbed my awareness to anything. All that was left, all that I still had, was a blanket of cold. The warmest cold.


I felt comforted, cradled, caressed, cared, calmed. I felt for once a lack of fear, a strange freedom from worry or terror. I felt… it. Daring to look above, into that inky blackness it dredged up from, I felt no animosity, no voracity, and no urgency.


I stared into the void, and felt it stare back at me.


With cowardly claws and uncertain expectations, I made another decision. I had to, well, to know. I had to touch it back. Like a lone explorer forging through the dreaded night, I reached out. Reached for it. And felt it lap. Snake its tongue against my forefinger, reigniting my skin and breaking goosebumps across my arm. Had I been able to control my lungs, I would have gasped. But I, I only felt relief. Nearly moved to tears that… that I wasn’t alone in the cold unfeeling night. It licked again, more playfully, tugging at the webbing between my fingers. I offered more to it, and it greedily accepted. Sliding its wetness through the net of my nubby tips. I smiled as it went as it. Feeling its joy in being accepted, its levity in being granted permission to lick me up and down.


It slid up the length of my arm, shooting its ice through my tensed muscles and blood vessels. It tongued at my fur, at my tufts, at my joints as it journeyed through the dark. Wrapping my wrist and my limb. Coiling them as a snake chokes its food.


I felt the shivers return, ones of reawakened pleasure. My body heat rising to combat the conflicting chill. I bent my head to the side, offering the thing my vulnerable neck. It barely hesitated. Wrapping and wriggling its naughty whip across my skin. It was only then that I felt the resurgence of heat further down my body.


The conflicting feelings of hot and cold. Of arousal and desensitivity, made me hard as ice. My shaft bludgeoning against the fabric as my feet curled and flexed.


I wanted to take care of it, but couldn't move as lust overtook me. That damn all consuming tongue. But fortunately for me, my friend didn’t notice. Or maybe it did..?


It passed south, to my clavicles, to my sternum. It grazed three wonderful circles to my nipple. I had to suffer as it teased me. It was then I remembered what a demon it was. A great and incredible tease. And I a toy to extract enjoyment from.


But it didn't stop, thank God, only prolonging its journey of taking incredible swipes and licks across my fur. I only wondered as it ate out my belly button what its intention was for me. And what I wanted it to do.


My, I guess I already called the thing friend extracted itself from my body. For once the ever biting chill gone from my body. That gave me some form of clarity, I guess. To think for a moment, to ask myself ‘what the fuck is happening right now?’


I looked down into the void. And wondered if I should ask it directly. I decided not to. I was ensnared in its spell and too enthralled to break the curse it placed me under. I wanted more. But I didn't move, my tented pants and aching cock my only sign of rebellion against the lack of heat.


I felt it smile. I don't know how, I don't know what gave it away. What sense I was using to get a grip on what was happening. That damn infuriating smile from last night.


I went stock still as… something hooked my underwear. I couldn't process how, just like I couldn't process anything else. But it somehow did. And I was too horny to care.


My sweltering organ finally pulsed freely in the air. Meeting the numbing atmosphere, I sighed as I again felt cold. A sensation quickly growing on me. But I wasn't prepared for the intensity as it dug in, unprompted.


Base to tip, tip to base, left to right. Up, down, and around. I had to bite my chapped lips, tasting the tiniest amount of warm blood. It felt so good. It felt so hot. It felt so fucking soft. And more enthusiastic than anyone else who ever offered me this before. But that might have just been the horny fogging my memory.


What I couldn't have prepared for was the maw. The enveloping orifice that consumed my most sensitive part. I, I was floored. Hips and back arching to jam more of the wonderful feeling deeper and deeper into me. To feel even stronger and greater colds.


I humped its face, using whatever range of motion my legs still had to extract all I could. The maw diligently accepted everything I could. Grim satisfaction brought a smile to my face, realizing that I finally was in control. That it could just lie there and take it! It wanted to fuck around to tease the ever living shit out of me for the last three nights, well it was time to find out. Find out exactly what it meant to mess with a mouse!


There was no love, just embittered and embroiled passion unrestrained. There was no intimacy as I subcame to my internal demons of lust. Just the coldest, tightest, velvtiest monster maw swallowing my entire dick.


I didn't last long. I wasn't trying to hold back so there wasn't any shame. I had an errant thought that my cum would freeze mid shot as my body ground against the mattress sheets. Bubbly pleasure coating my brain, afterglow relaxing my muscles, pleasant pricks of ice dotting my skin as that tongue lapped one last time upon my deflating tip.


I was drowsy like you wouldn't believe. Eyelids closing into more darkness as I fell to sleep.


The following morning, I had no idea what to think or feel or believe. Sun light cracked in through my blinds, telling me that it was far later than I wanted to sleep to. I didn't want to look, to know or learn just what the truth was. But.. I needed to. I had to! I needed to know.


My boxers were down to my ankles, freeze dried remnants of semen caking my fur. I, I felt so disappointed. So sad. That was all I had.


No pawprints on my bed or lingering scent in the air, no sound save my own breath. Only two pieces of evidence to corroborate my tale. Both my waking mind justified with wet dreams and shifting in my sleep. No presence of anything otherworldly.


I left my bed and attacked my day instead, willing that night from my mind. Casting it to hell along with that Thing! That.. wonderful Thing.


It never came to me again after that night, I never sat in bed waiting for it to return again. I moved on with my life, and all I have to show for it is this story. And that the cold doesn't bother me anymore.