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Morphtalk by the Blog Dog

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Commissioned by Seinfeld 1999

Blogisode 4:

"Why do you always smell so good?"

That's the question Chuck asked me this morning. Even without that long, strong, smooth tongue like a canomorph or equimorph has, or the pebbly, sexy-raspy tongue of a felimorph, Chuck's absolutely incredible with his mouth. I never thought I'd admit that I love getting cunnilingus from a human, but with Chuck, it's true. He's the exception to the rule, I guess. I also guess that it doesn't hurt that the guy's got a serious oral fetish.

When my sandy-haired human pet asked the question, he was resting his head on my butt, using my buns for a pillow. Maybe it's boasting, whatever, but even among morphs, I've got this heart-shaped black-and-brown butt that keeps drawing looks. It's tight, it's toned, it's rounded in just the right ways, and I love it when my lovers pay attention to it. Since Chuck is more than happy to work that tongue of his into just about any one of my holes on a moment's notice, I've decided that I'll probably keep my English major around for a while.

Yeah, I'm joking: I love Chuck. After my past experiences, I'm not the sort who declares undying affection and eternal devotion to anyone, but...well, I've got a weak spot for Chuck, for the way he looks at me with those expressive green eyes of his, for how he lets me put on his collar every time he comes over and we get naked, for how we can just talk for hours on end about just about anything. He's a great conversationalist, and we like to read similar books. Actually, he's the one who usually gets me hooked on different authors. Besides all that, though, I just kinda like having him around. I guess if you could call anything love, that's what love is to me.

"It's the pheromones," I told him. "They're also the reason you love me like you do."

That arched eyebrow behind those cokebottle glasses of his made it pretty clear he wasn't buying it. I gave him one of those toothy grins (all over my shoulder, of course, since I didn't want to make him fall off his 'pillow') we carnivore-based morphs can do so well.

"It's true!" I declared teasingly. "Pheromones may not have a scent on their own, but they usually get attached to 'em. They're these hormones that go straight through your breathing passages, and right up to the brain through the most direct routes. It's like mind control, except it goes for the primitive parts of the brain, the ones who can't consciously control."

"So I think you've got a great butt, because I'm being brainwashed?" Chuck asked, smiling a little sleepily as he lifted his head a little, just enough for him to move those hands of his into play, to start kneading on my buns - gripping them, squeezing them, rolling them this way and that.

Try as I might to stay on top, whenever Chuck starts to play around with my butt, I just melt. Squeezing the pillow before me, biting it to stifle my whimper (he heard it, though - Dog-darn him! He knows how much he gets to me!) I shook my head, trying to ignore how wet I was getting.

"We're all just biological machines," I got out through clenched teeth. "Emotions, especially love, are all just a lie. Any biologist worth her salt would tell you as much."

"It's a good thing I'm an English major, then," Chuck teased, his tongue working its way into my now-dripping pussy lips.

How Chuck can draw the alphabet with his tongue like he does is something I've never figured out - I know I can't do it nearly as well when I'm the one going down on a girl. What's really impressive, though, is how he can do it upside down. Guess that makes some good sense, though, since he likes me face down, bottom up.

Speaking of bottoms up, it was only a matter of minutes before he got my hiney hiked, and I tossed him a pillow for him to stuff under my stomach, keeping me on all-fours with minimal effort. Maybe it's a cliché, but I love doggystyle, and there's nothing like a weekend filled with fun with the boyfriend, and then blogging about it between bouts. If he works me up much more, I'm going to have to call over some of the other guys to join us, make it a full-blown gangbang with me in the middle.

Right now, I'm writing this on a laptop, listening to the shower run while Chuck cleans himself off, feeling the load he left in my quim start to leak out onto the towel I slid under me, after Chuck used it to clean himself off. We always keep a towel near the bed whenever Chuck's around - he tends to get messy, and he tends to get me_really_ messy. And once he's out of the shower, he's going to get my tailhole at least as messy. I'd have joined him the shower, but inspiration called, and I had to answer. It's still morning, technically, but he nailed me good and hard, tongue and cock, for well over two hours now. Watching his face, his body, all tense and adorable, while he pounds my butt, hips against tush, making it bounce and ripple in these sweet little waves, is really intense. I'm glad I put up that big mirror over the bed; it took a lot of work, but it's been _so_very, very worth it over the years. Guess I'm just a visual sort of person. Then again, I've heard that most of us morphgirls are really visual, so that's not so surprising.

What hit me as I was getting nailed was what pheromones mean with morphs and humans. I was joking about how pheromones were the only reason I love Chuck, of course, but there's an element of truth in what I said: morph pheromones mean a lot to us. They mean a lot to humans, too.

A while back, there was a study done on how morph pheromones influenced our relationships. Originally, the study was supposed to only be about morph couples, since at the time (a really short while ago, as I think about it, just a couple, maybe three or four, years) anything between humans and morphs was seriously taboo, even if those relationships had just barely been made technically legal, or at least not illegal anymore. When the human researchers started collecting data, though, a few of them got a little more involved than they'd originally intended.

The way I know about all this is because I keep tabs on a lot of the morph research done, and I've got some friends in the scientific community. Being a sociologist, I can mix with real scientists, and even pretend to be one of them, as long as I don't make my presence too obvious. This sometimes ends with us going out for drinks after work (I love virgin piña coladas), and that's when the real research, at least for me, begins.

One of the girls I hang out with, whose name I'll keep secret on account of unprofessional behavior, was one of those researchers working on the pheromone project. Most of the subjects her group had chosen were vulpimorphs, mephomorphs, and various mustelimorphs since the foxes, skunks, and weaselbeasts produce more pheromones than any other type of morph. That, and if you've ever had a weasel in bed, you know how much passionate, raw energy those tough little guys can put into their sex - they just don't get tired!

Just to clarify, "weasel," or "weaselbeast," is my way of talking about mustelimorphs, the ones based on mustelids like otters, ferrets, weasels, wolverines, and so forth. I've gone to town with otters on more than one occasion, and I have to admit, I've never, ever been so very, very sore, and so very, very, very happy from the experience than with those wriggly guys and girls. It's like they were all over me..."like" nothing, they were all over me, twisting their bodies in knots to grope and maul my smooth-furred bod until I was ready to scream. Except I couldn't, because one of the girlotters was plugging my mouth with her pussy.

Yeah, sorry, that's a story for another time. Right now, let's focus on what that girl told me about her own experience with pheromones. Turns out, while she was doing the initial research, she worked most closely with a same-sex couple made of this fox and this skunk (whose names I will also withhold, since that might lead back to my researcher friend). They were cute guys, really sweet from how she described them, and she spent hours at a time around them, studying them, collecting samples of the pheromones they were throwing up into the air pretty much all the time. They were also known to let in a third member to their couple, a wolverine girl, and while the wolvie got really shy about "performing" in front of an audience, even if it was just an audience of one, and the skunky was always sort of hesitant about showing off, the fox was able to talk them both into just about anything. That's how my researcher friend got to see, up-close and very personal, all sorts of hardcore morph mating acts, and catch 'em all on film.

The videos, though, weren't anywhere as important as the pheromone data she collected.

Now, here's how a pheromone works. It's pretty much like any other hormone, actually, except that it's made to leave the body of the one producing it, and enter another creature's body. First, the little molecule that's the pheromone gets made somewhere in the system of the being producing it. Then it gets released somehow into the air; the exact method varies, but in most creatures, it's through the anal and genital openings, and from the sweat and sebaceous glands. Next, the pheromone gets taken into the body of a receptive creature of the same species, makes its way to the brain, and tells the brain to produce an answering hormone that makes the body of the receiving creature react to the creature that produced the pheromone.

Mating pheromones are probably the most famous of this class of hormone. If you've ever watched a boy horse or cat stick his nose against the butt of a girl of his species, then curl back his lip - what's called a flehmen response - that's the boy getting a big hit of girl mating pheromones, telling his body it's time to get down and dirty and make some babies.

The experiment that my researcher friend described to me had the morphs mate in an enclosed environment. It was a sealed room where the air was pumped in and out, so all its contaminants, like pheromones, could be drawn out, collected, and examined. They've got similar sorts of rooms for measuring how many calories are getting burned and turned into byproducts, mostly for use in advanced metabolic and nutritional studies. There'd be some toys and reading material and videos and other fun stuff to make the ones inside the room comfortable, along with nice furniture, beds and couches and such, all perfect for setting the mood - and also all calculated into the original setup of the room, so its contents wouldn't mess with the results. Whoever was going to be studied that day would just enter the room, play around a bit, eventually get down and dirty, and then get paid for their time and leave. I know it sounds clinical and all that, but that's just how science is when you're being serious about it. It's not as hard for morphs to perform in front of an audience, thankfully, because pretty much all of us have had to live in barracks-style arrangements at some point in our lives, and those of us that have actually been breeders have pretty much gotten used to having sex when there are people watching.

The original setup for the experiment was to have the researcher doing the monitoring outside the room, and that's what took place while my researcher friend was observing her three subjects and their fun, and taking notes on the data that came in. Realtime observation and recording was very important, she told me, because pheromone levels tend to go up and down at various points during the stages of morph arousal. Actually, she said it was astonishing how very much morph pheromone levels could vary, and so it was vital to see what caused them to shift from valleys to spikes. Some of the data gathered proved very interesting.

For starters, morphs are pretty much always producing some level of mating pheromones from the moment we're physically mature enough to start having sex and making babies. Apparently this was in our original design, since whoever it was that first made us (and that's still really unclear, a lot of the information listed as classified by government officials) wanted us to have a really high rate of reproduction, what my researcher friend calls an "aggressive" level.

Hmm, that's an interesting thought: were we originally intended to be some sort of weapon? That'd explain why everybody's research into our origins always hits a wall when we get to a certain point, all the hard data locked up by high-end government "need-to-know" classification.

Sorry, tangent. Anyway, even at our lows, morphs are always producing sex pheromones to some degree, creating a state of generalized arousal in just about every morph around us. Guess that's why morphs tend to have so much sex, and why sex is so important to our culture. Well, one reason, anyway - culture is never so simple, even when it's got a simple basis like ours. When a morph actually gets aroused, even when that morph is a non-ovulating female, the pheromone count rises remarkably. The practical result of this rise is that it's a lot easier for us to talk each other into having sex, so long as one of us at least is turned on - it's probably only a matter of time and exposure before any morphs around us also start to get aroused as well.

Notice I mentioned non-ovulating females. Sex pheromones are supposed to be produced when a female is ready to mate, not necessarily all the time, not like with us morphs. My researcher friend theorizes that morph pheromone production might be so high because we're so much like humans, without a set mating season - if we were supposed to reproduce a lot, like what seems to be the case in our deliberate design, then it would make sense to make it really easy for us to have sex at almost any time, thus increasing our chances of knocking each other up. Pheromone levels just skyrocket when a female morph is actually ovulating, and morphs in the vicinity, females as well as males, start to go a little mating crazy. Which turns into a lot mating crazy with enough exposure.

Morph pheromone production levels also led my researcher friend to notice something else about the aggression of our mating pheromones: they also were aggressive in making new pathways. Normally, mating pheromones are supposed to fit key-in-lock into a specific neurotransmitter connection point in the brain of a member of the appropriate sex. Sometimes in nature there are glitches, which can produce homosexual behavior, but these are typically the exception, not the rule...well, except for some species, like cows (they're hardcore lesbians), but even then, the ultimate aim of the pheromones is to get a girl bred by a boy.

Not so with morphs. With us, it seems like the primary goal of our pheromones is to just make everybody around us randy almost all the time. I mean everybody. Our pheromones, according to my friend, are almost insanely aggressive, even going so far as to open up and reshape neuroreceptors just so that they can be receptive to morph pheromones. This even works on the same sex, which as I think about it would explain why morphs, no matter what our type, are opportunistic omnisexuals. There's a certain preference for the opposite sex, of course, since that's what our instincts tell us is supposed to happen so we can make babies, but it's only a preference, not a hard requirement.

The short of it is: morphs love sex! We don't really care who we're having it with, just so long as we get it, and lots of it.

Having said that, I still don't think we're sluts, because I know we've got standards. Still, think about it for a bit: if you had a body that was made for making babies, fit and strong and healthy and attractive, and you were surrounded by others who were just as fit and strong and healthy and attractive as you were, some of them more, some of them a little less, and all of them were quite willing to have sex with you, would you take advantage of the opportunity? Yeah, I think you can see where morphs get our tendencies.

That's just what my friend learned about how morph pheromones work on other morphs, though. While she was at work on the project, she also discovered something else about morph pheromones, though it was completely by accident, at least at first.

Uh-oh...looks like her experience will have to wait, though: Chuck's back, and he's horny. Ever since I got him working out regularly, he's been looking more and more sexy every day. Then again, maybe that's just because I love him. Ngh, but that hard cock of his, bouncing while he walks toward me while I'm on my stomach, deliberately teasing him with hard black-and-brown dobiebutt, knowing he's watching, knowing he wants me, and knowing he's gonna have me good 'n rough like the naughty slutpuppy I am...yeah, gotta go, back soon!