Honestly, Doesn't That Make Me Pretty Normal?

I had a dream.

A dream where countless tentacles tore my house apart, kidnapped me, violated me within an inch of my life, and finally killed me from sheer exhaustion.

It was so realistic and so thoroughly goddamn awful that I kicked off the blankets and jolted awake.

"Hah... hah... fuck..."

Was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it because I'd drawn a fox shrine maiden getting tentacle-ravaged and gotten hit with a broadcast ban for it? Either way, it was one hell of a nightmare.

My soft, springy tits being twisted into every shape imaginable by tentacles, while down below I was worked until I blacked out...

"This is all because of the heat."

Yeah. It was the heat.

The reason I was having weird, filthy dreams like that was the heat, damn it!

If it weren't for the heat, I never would have dreamed something that erotic. I never would have had my heart stolen even for a second by my friend's male pheromones, and the time I spent on happy time would have been cut in half...

No, wait. Happy time is the exception. Anyway.

I woke up from that deranged dream to find the sun already high in the sky.

From the kitchen came the same clattering sounds I'd heard in the dream.

"...Don't tell me that was a prophetic dream?"

What if I walked into the kitchen and that insane tentacle mudang was standing there? What the hell was I supposed to do?

In the dream, my secret weapon—the frying pan—hadn't worked at all. Knives of every kind had bounced off uselessly. Even a chair shot, the blunt-force classic, had done nothing.

Against someone who could only deal physical damage, tentacles were the absolute worst matchup imaginable. And she'd even been packing aphrodisiacs. With my heat in full swing, the conclusion was obvious: I could not win.

Still, the dream had been way too vivid. Had that actually happened?

I considered it for a second, then dismissed the idea. The house was far too clean for something that had supposedly been destroyed badly enough to force a move.

Yeah. It had just been so long since I'd had a proper nightmare that the memory was sticking around.

I grabbed a frying pan from under the bed and crept toward the kitchen. The moment I confirmed who was cooking in there, I carefully set the pan down on the table.

"What, so it was you cooking?"

"Why are you picking a fight the second you wake up? Am I not allowed to cook?"

"No... it's not that. Why are you cooking in someone else's kitchen? You've got that massive house of yours. Go cook there. You've got plenty of ingredients."

"I'm cooking to fill that stomach of yours that hasn't had a single thing in it for a whole day. Stop picking fights and go mass-produce some furry NSFW already."

My friend said it with a frown, like I was being a pain. I opened my mouth, puzzled.

"I haven't eaten anything for a whole day? That can't be right."

"You slept for over twenty-four hours, dumbass. Of course you didn't eat. Is that some kind of heat aftereffect? Like those manga settings where if you hold off on sex you just pass out and can't do anything?"

"There's a point in there somewhere, but I don't want to admit it. No wonder I was starving like hell—I literally hadn't eaten for a day. So what's on the menu this morning?"

"Kept it simple. Brunch. Toast with strawberry jam, fried eggs, sausage. Drink-wise I just grabbed some cider from the fridge."

"Throw the cider out. I drank from that months ago."

"Oh? So it's been marinating in furry spit for months? I literally cannot resist that."

"I haven't even been transformed for a full month yet, you idiot. Holy shit, were you actually gay this whole time?"

I looked at him with pure contempt. His face went red and he looked away.

"That's a reward right there."

"You absolute freak."

"No, wait—could you switch to furry form and look at me with contempt like last time? I'd genuinely lick your feet if you did."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Could you please just kill yourself already? The fact that you're my ball-buddy is disgusting."

"Contemptuous eyes plus swearing... haaah... crude as it is, that got me hard, you know?"

I was going to lose my mind.

What the hell were God and King Yama doing right now? Why hadn't they dragged this deranged pervert off yet?

I stared at him with a look of pure pity, and something like an auditory hallucination of two old men's voices drifted into my ears.

Behold. Even God and King Yama were refusing this insane furry-obsessed bastard.

Once he died, would he just wander the nine heavens because nowhere would take him?

...There was a real chance of that.

No—not just a chance. The odds were actually high.

His sexual preferences were so far gone that even a succubus and a virgin ghost would pass on him.

Having finished that thought, I slowly ate the brunch my friend had brought over and carefully posed a question.

"I'm asking this seriously. When are you planning to kill yourself?"

One week into the heat.

After enduring the endlessly boiling sexual desire, I finally started seeing hallucinations.

What kind, you ask...?

Hearing only that dialogue, what comes to mind?

A pure-love couple enjoying some anal?

Or a woman trying to protect something precious, and a rapist trying to defile her?

If that's what you thought, you can call yourself a person with normal sexual desires.

Why?

Because what I was looking at right now was a perfect specimen of abnormal sexuality that most normal people could never even conceive of.

So what exactly were the beings delivering those lines?

None other than a mechanical pencil lead and a mechanical pencil.

Surprised?

I was surprised too.

Something that stupid was appearing before my eyes, and looking at it made my crotch tingle—so yes, I was surprised.

"I'm... I'm going to lose my mind..."

Had someone cast a hallucination curse or illusion magic on me?

Or had the Fox God pulled some scheme to resolve my heat?

I glared at her on suspicion, but she just stared back blankly, as if she had no idea what was going on.

"—What is it? Have you some further business with this lady?"

"No. It's not you. There's no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way a useless Fox God who never helps with anything would cast a hallucination curse on me."

"—You summon me only to launch a personal attack. Was doing nothing truly so dull?"

"Better than a pregnancy attack, you bitch. Be grateful I stuck to personal attacks."

"—This lady rather prefers pregnancy attacks to personal ones. And you, for that matter, no longer even possess the weapon for a pregnancy attack, do you?"

I'd given an inch and gotten a mile.

That goddamn woman had taken my siege weapon for herself and now had the gall to say shit like that.

"I'm saying this with complete sincerity. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moment you get a body back, I'm strapping on a dildo and fucking you raw. No matter what it takes. Absolutely."

"—Heavens. A complete amateur with zero sexual experience, and yet your mouth runs so freely. Perhaps being fucked in reverse is what it will take to knock some sense into you?"

"How many techniques do you think I've seen in eighteen-plus manga? You think I'd get topped by the likes of you? A man getting fucked by a woman is the ultimate humiliation. If I hand you the initiative, I'm a dog. A dog."

"—For all that talk, you are already a dog. Well, fine. This lady taking matters into her own hands and turning you into a proper bitch would not be so bad either."

The moment the Fox God finished speaking, I felt something drain heavily from my body. A crushing wave of weakness hit me, and I collapsed flat on the floor.

"Wh-what the hell... why... why can't I move?"

"Because this lady has performed a Manifestation. The weakness you feel is from the sheer amount of Yoreok expended in the process."

I forced my unmoving body to turn toward the seductive voice behind me—and there she was. The Fox God, whom I'd only ever seen as a spirit, standing before my eyes with a real, solid body.

"I could not smell it in spirit form, so I did not know—but judging by the lewd, vulgar stench filling this room, you are already little better than a bitch in heat."

"Don't be ridiculous! That's just because I'm in heat right now. Normally I'd—"

"Did you not spend plenty of enjoyable time alone even before the heat began? Shall this lady recite those vulgar words of yours back to you with her own mouth?"

Were foxes truly such bewitching animals?

The Fox God—a real nine-tailed fox—radiated a dangerous level of allure and seduction that a knockoff gumiho like me couldn't begin to match. Without meaning to, I felt my heart being stolen by her more and more.

I needed to snap out of it, but I couldn't.

Was anyone who could look at that bewitching figure and still keep their wits about them anything other than gay?

No—even a gay man who witnessed that level of allure would abandon being gay and convert to normal sexuality on the spot.

Barely keeping my raging lust under control, I looked at the Fox God. She covered her mouth with a hand and laughed delightedly, as if she found the whole thing fascinating.

"You truly are entertaining. Most humans, regardless of age or gender, go mad with desire at the mere sight of this lady's body and try to claim it. And yet you—who lust after this lady more than anyone—are holding yourself back like this."

"Isn't that obvious? Better to keep your sanity and savor that body as deliciously as possible than go crazy and not even feel it properly, right?"

"Heh heh heh... A fair point. You are correct. However."

The Fox God approached me as I lay completely unable to move, and pressed her index finger into my lower abdomen.

"The day you seize the initiative in coupling with this lady... seems to lie in the rather distant future."

At the same time, my lower belly throbbed—thump, thump—

And everything in my head went pure white.