By Strega

May 2000 (re-edited June 19-20, 2002)

The ten-uear-old Mercedes pulled out of the gate. For just a moment a face was visible through the side window; not a human face, but a narrow-muzzled, flat-topped skunk face.

Barry sat in the darkened truck nearby, making an effort not to turn his head as the Mercedes became just two more glowing tail lights. When they had safely vanished around the corner, he turned to the woman sitting in the passenger seat.

"I’ve got the gun. Nobody in the house now, with the dude gone."

Delia fiddled with the cigarette lighter, not looking at him. "Are you sure?" She shot a look at the eight-foot wall, with its BEWARE OF SKUNK signs every hundred feet.

Barry just flicked her a grin. "It’s a joke! Everyone knows the freak lives there alone except when he's got a girl over. And he doesn't right now."

Delia, sighed, then nodded. "I’ll wait. At least it's a nice dark night."

It only took a minute to get the ladder from the back of the truck. Delia held it while he scooted to the top, and as expected, there were no spikes or glass on top. He rolled quickly over, hearing the scrape of the ladder being re-stowed as he thumped to the grass.

Barry smiled. Too easy. He walked quickly through the dark woods, avoiding undergrowth and crossing a tiny stream via a bike-bridge. This guy practically lives in a park. I guess that’s what you get when you sue a big corporation and win. Soon the house appeared ahead, dark save for two lighted windows. He crept up to the left one, getting out his prybar. It wasn’t needed.

Sliding the window open, he slid silently over the sill. He was in a living room, and a well-equipped one at that -- there was one of those new flat-screen wall-TVs, two big two-tape VCRs, and a rack of stereo equipment. Even the knick-knacks looked expensive, mostly sculpted animals like he's seen in that shop in Vegas. He smiled, pulling off his backpack and unzipping the top to get at the other bags within.

And froze, hand on the first sculpture. What was that? A heavy, soft tread on the carpet, getting closer.

He dropped down behind a chair, thinking furiously. The owner was gone. He'd seen the skunk-man drive away in the Mercedes, and he'd have heard the car come back or seen the lights through the windows. The waitress he'd bribed -- a sometime lover of the skunk -- had said the skunk didn't have a security guard or alarm system. So who…?

He saw the tail first, curled up seven feet high, almost brushing the arched doorframe. Broad and ridiculously furry, three feet wide and all black with white stripes. The owner was back already? No, the tail was too big. He sneaked a look past the chair-arm.

Skunk! Freaking huge skunk, at least four feet tall at the rump. Even the head was huge, almost as large as his own chest. The thing was just BIG, seven feet long nose to rump at least and no telling how heavy. Four-inch black claws flashed on one paw, and Barry ducked back behind the chair. Damn. Didn't want that thing mad at him. Guard animal? Hopefully it was friendly!

He could hear it padding closer, closer…and then it stopped. Barry held his breath.

Sniff. SniffSniff, getting closer. The floor creaked again as the skunk turned, and suddenly a broad, whiskered muzzle appeared past the back of the chair, not a foot from Barry's nose.

"Aaaaahh! N-N-nice skunk." He backed off on his knees, hand going into his windbreaker pocket for the little .22. He felt the cool metal, and stared at the huge skunk, now whuffling curiously as it around the chair toward him. "Nice skunk." No way was the .22 going to stop it. With any luck it was harmless.

Striper eyed the thin human, and nosed its chest, sniffing deeply as it was thrust back a few inches. He didn't know its scent. Squeaking fearfully, the little man scuttled backwards on hands and knees, wild-eyed, and Striper followed, still sniffing. Perhaps it was one of his owner's guests? It was too early to consider the man edible, but he watched it carefully. Suddenly its hand darted into a pocket, and the skunk's dark eyes followed, as he'd been trained….

Barry went for the .22, and the little gun flicked out to point at the skunk's muzzle. If he emptied the clip, maybe he'd get lucky. But before he could squeeze the trigger, a forepaw the size of a cinder block snapped up and slapped his hand aside, sending the gun flying. "Ow!" The big skunk growled, and poked at him with the same forepaw, thudding it against his chest. He tumbled back, air forced from his lungs.

He shook his head, stunned, and blinked at the whiskered muzzle sniffing between his legs. "Get off!" He caught its muzzle between his knees, only to have it growl and dig a paw between them and pry its head loose. When the muzzle pulled back, fangs caught in the material of his slacks, and cloth ripped. There was a jingle of lost keys, the thump of something else slipping from the pocket, and then it lowered its nose to sniff at his groin again.

Barry dragged a knee up against his chest, kicked downward at the skunk's nose. And connected with a dull thud. "Get…off!"

Striper hissed in annoyance and snapped at the irritating foot, catching in his jaws. The man’s pants tore further as his jaws moved, and then fangs dug into the leather sneaker. Tug as the man would, he wouldn't release its foot. "HHhhhhh."

Barry cursed at the dull pain digging into his foot, and drew up his other foot, slamming it down at the skunk's pink nose. "I said LET…GO!" But this time there was no satisfying thud of impact. The skunk growled and snapped its muzzle open as the foot came down, and his tennis shoe joined the other in the maw as it snapped shut.

He cursed, and thrashed like a gaffed fish on the carpet, yanking at the skunk's grip. "Damn sku…" He blinked as the skunk hooked its nose down, pushing its muzzle farther over his feet. Fangs scraped his shoes, and tightness pushed his toes together. And then its chin came up, and something grabbed at his shoes, pulling his feet down into…the skunk's throat?

Barry stared as the skunk's thick neck bulged, the bulge growing larger as it wriggled its muzzle down over his calves. It was to his knees, and sliding past, when he realized it wasn't going to stop. "No! Bad!" He grabbed the thing's muzzle with both hands. "No biting!"

But it didn't listen. It stepped forward, bending his legs upward, and his butt thrust down against the carpet. With growing horror he watched his thighs vanish into the wide jaws as the skunk pushed its nose towards the floor. His legs slid into the slimy throat, warm pressure all around, and he realized…

It's swallowing me! Barry thrust his hands hard against the skunk's muzzle, and with an irritated growl the thing hooked a paw behind his butt. With a yank, and a creak of jaws already hugely distended, it wriggled its maw over his hips. He might as well not have had his hands on its head at all for the good his resistance did.

"No! Let go!" Barry laughed hysterically as he felt the thing gulp down his hips, felt himself sucked into the furry throat up to his navel. "Spit it out…!" He laughter went higher and higher in pitch, but he couldn't stop.

Striper swallowed again, felt the man drawn deeper into his throat, bulging out the glossy black neckfur. It was a warm and comfortable feeling, having his gullet swelled, and soon his belly would feel the same. The giggling human's grip on his muzzle was slowing him down, and he stepped forward to butt the man's back against the wall. With a strong shove he pushed the meal all but out of sight. One of the man's hands slipped, was caught in his jaws, and the next gulp pulled it in. Finally the laughter was stopping, as the man's eyes grew wider and wider.

Barry struggled in the skunk's dislocated jaws, but with growing horror he realized that it was too late. With just his head and one arm free, and nothing to grab, he couldn't stop it. The giant skunk stretched out its muzzle, and he squirmed frantically as he felt the throat work around him. "Nooooo!"

Gulp. Striper watched the clutching hand slip towards his lips. The elbow bent at the last moment as the meal tried to hook its fingers over his muzzle, but they missed their grip. In a moment the hand, too, were gone, and he swallowed again, feeling his gullet tense down tight around the man and give him a firm shove downward. With a familiar bumping, uneven slide, the heavy mass of the human drained down his esophagus, stretching his ribs to creaking expansion as the wriggling meal was pushed past by strong swallowing muscles. He sounded off the progress with a series of little grunts, finally letting out a long moan as the man filled his stomach. His flanks swelled as the meal settled, forcing his haunches to swing outward.

Barry struggled with all his might as his head slid into the skunk's jaws, his last glimpse of light ending as its lips sealed firmly shut. Slippery skunk throat pulsed past on all sides, and his hand slid over the bumpy palate before it too was sucked into the throat. Mucus coated his face, and he coughed out the slime that flowed into his mouth as he was slicked down and swallowed. Slow waves of muscle pulled him deeper, and his feet pressed against a resistance; a moment of hope was shattered as a strong muscular sphincter opened, stretching over his feet as they slipped into a looser area beyond. "No…!" But in the hot dark, there was no stopping the swallowing action, and the rest of him followed, pushed into the slimy skunk-stomach to curl up.

Striper rose to all fours again, stretching to squeeze the last of the man into his stomach then padding toward his big basket of a bed. His newly swollen belly swayed heavily beneath him, stuffed lumpily full of still-struggling human. The prey kicked and scratched, but by the time he curled up and rested his muzzle on his tail the struggles were feeble.

He belched, a heavy rumble of escaping air, and sucked in another breath, swallowing a portion for the trapped man. For now he had to be content with the full feeling, for his master would want to decide whether this fool human could become a meal. Feeling the little movements within, he relaxed, nodding on the verge of sleep. Soon he'd either be coughing the man back up, or perhaps if he was lucky he could loose his stomach to do its work.

***

Delia tapped her hands on the steering wheel, her eyes never leaving the gate. Forty-five minutes now. It was supposed to have just been twenty! The plan was Barry would grab the choicest things and run right back out. Fifty minutes. She leaned back, trying to relax. Maybe there was too much to choose from.

An hour. She grabbed the knotted rope from the seat beside her and looped it over her shoulder. In a moment she had the ladder up, in another she was up atop the wall and hopping down from onto the lawn. Two minutes careful walk with just a sliver of moonlight for illumination, and she could see the house. One window stood open, light spilling out onto the lawn.

"Barry?" She looked in the window, and swore under her breath. "Barry, where are you?" She left the rope and climbed through, thankful for once of her too-thin build. At least her hips weren't too wide to fit through…what was that?

***

Striper napped uneasily. His body’s energies were not drawn to digestion, or else he'd have been deep asleep, and he was vaguely aware of his lumpish belly refusing to shift when he stirred. After a brief time another distraction appeared, as his dreaming returned to previous times he had fed like this. For some reason, a tight belly always brought on an entirely different sort of fullness, and he stirred further, conscious of the stiffness against his belly.

Half-awake now, his thoughts turned to his owner, who would sometimes apply hands or a humming wand to the source of this disturbance and take away the results in a little jar. Or, perhaps he would be granted one of his rare visits with a female of his large kind, grasp her waist, scruff her neckfur as his belly moved atop her rump.

His eyes popped open, and he let out a grumble of annoyance. Pointless to try to sleep again unless he wanted to wake shivering with his bellyfur stuck together. His companion might relieve his troubles when the man-skunk returned from his entertainment. Most often that one returned smelling of a human female or two, often with their intimate scent. Sometimes such females even lived here for a time. Striper remembered one evening when the man-skunk was away, the woman had come to where he lay on his back, knelt down and….

Striper let out a still more annoyed churr. This daydreaming was only making things worse. He stirred restlessly, his belly giving out a frustrated gurgle, and thought of the big stuffed bear in his room. It was soft and silky-furred, just the size to fit beneath his belly. Shaking himself to his feet, he padded toward the hall.

But there was a sound.

***

Delia jumped as a massive black-and-white shape rose from behind the couch, striped tail lifting. A skunk!

"Whoa!" She blinked, realizing just how big it really was. For a moment she just stared as it padded forward rapidly. She saw it was -- pregnant? -- but she was too busy retreating towards the window to get a good look.

It was close already, sniffing as its muzzle arrowed in towards her groin. She almost laughed. Just like a dog! "Bad skunk!" It must be a pet. The skunk-man isn't half this big.

Striper caught the female’s intimate scent, and pushed his muzzle in closer. She smelled strongly of the man now curled in his belly, and her route of entry told him that she, too, was an intruder.

He had a certain leeway with intruders, from letting the young ones go with a single terrifying hiss from the dark to speed them along, to taking others as meals…or mates. He reached for the woman’s legs with a deep churrrrr.

Delia backed away from the gigantic skunk, but it caught her behind the knees with one hubcap-sized paw and she thumped down on her butt. Immediately the thing's nose was over her, sniffing at her breasts and nosing at her belly. She shrieked as it bit at her, but the fangs only went into her skirt. With a tug of its muzzle cloth tore, and she gripped into the thick fur of its cheeks in a futile effort to shove it back.

The skunk, seven times her mass, didn't move an inch, and her skirt hung in rags from its jaws. It nosed at her hands curiously, and then stepped forward, black eyes glittering. Its chest bowled her over onto her back, and its muzzle was outlined against the overhead lights as it let the the rags fall onto her face. Brushing them away in a panic, she recovered her sight just as a heavy weight settled on her belly -- and just in time to realize what the skunk intended.

"No!" She pushed at the skunk's chest, struggled to get her knees together, but it had already squatted down over her, fat belly keeping her thighs apart and pushing down on her. Its massive ‘wrists’ pinned her chest between them, and she saw the great brush of a tail flick as it…HE…arched HIS back. A heavy, stiff ridge in its groinfur slid along her thigh and a wet, hot tip probed at her sex.

He was trying to fuck her! The skunk was…! She shrieked in pain and despair as the skunk moved a hindpaw and arched again. The tapered tip drove into her pussy, spreading the lips wide, and with a churrrrrr the skunk pushed the thicker shaft in after. He was big…too big! She gasped and shoved at his chest desperately as fur folded back against her labia, letting more of his hard slick cock into her. Stretched her wide around his thickness, he flicked his tail as he slid in until with a chuuurr-grunt he encountered the resistance of her cervix.

For a moment he paused, and stretched painfully around him, she had a moment's hope. It was a futile one. He straightened his back, pulling halfway out with a wet shlurp, humped his cock back in, straightened, humped, churring happily as he got into the rhythm.

Delia squirmed under the skunk, but there was no way to dislodge the massive animal as he arched. She kicked at his sides, tore at the chest-fur flattening her breasts, and squeezed her eyes shut as she was painfully impaled again and again. He was immovable, lecherous, determined. His muzzle came hunting for her face, licking and nosing, and she snapped at his tongue, furious at being so helpless. She wasn’t at all aroused, even considering the painfully thick rod driving into her, for he plainly didn’t care about her. He only wanted one thing, and he pulled his hardness out against all the resistance her tight cunny could offer, and rammed it back in, over and over.

She wasn't frightened, either. Just angry. She had the sense that the thing was a pet, a harmless but horribly disobedient pet who should not be raping a woman on the living room carpet. Was she ever going to sue the owner…!

Barry woke in the wet dark, roused by something, some strange sound and movement. Not like the regular pulsing of the slippery walls or the thump of the skunk's pulse. The belly was folding and shaking around him as he was alternately lifted, then pushed down against something beneath the skunk’s belly. Gurgles and creaks and squishing sounds added to the beast’s pulse, the periodic belches and gulps of air that had been his only sounds for…how long?

Striper was well into his humping rhythm and already felt tension building deep in his vitals. His dream and daydream had him so inflamed that he might not have even made it to the stuffed bear, might have stained the tile hall-floor with a spray of seed. Instead he was pushing into the soft warmth of a human woman, tight and growing slick with her juices. He thought for a moment to be gentler, but it was already too late.

Delia snarled to echo the skunk’s churrs, and pulled back her hand to smack him in the nose. But just then he growled low and deep, biting at her sweater and catching it hard in his fangs as his tail-tip twitched violently to one side.

"Oh, no you don't…Ahhhhh!" As if there was a way to deny him his pleasure, she struggled with all her might. But still he forced his swelling cock deep one more time, still it pulsed, and suddenly he was spurting. Thick wads of warm skunk goo filled her as the skunk's haunches shivered and bulged with spasming muscles. He churred deeply, his balls twitching against her ass, and finally finished with something like a happy sigh.

Barry blinked, there in the hot dark. The skunk had tensed, shivered, and then arched violently, shuddering. He could feel the spasm run through the skunk’s groin only a few inches away. The skunk was screwing someone! As the big skunk's orgasm shuddered it all around him he reached for his own groin. Wet as he was it was easy to peel back his torn pants and fondle the bulge in his underwear.

"Yuck. Oh yuck." The skunk had come in her! She was full of animal seed. Delia wanted to wash now, more than anything, but all she could do was push at his barrel chest. Maybe it'd lose interest now that it was -- ugh -- done. She was unclean, stained -- used. "You are a bad skunk. Bad!"

Striper relaxed, churring low in his torso. Diminishing warmth filled his balls and abdomen as seed oozed into her where it had once gouted. It had been quick, but he had been needy. He eyed the woman’s face beneath him. Save her for another mating? Or for the master? But his instructions were clear. If he mated with an intruder against her will, the next step was set.

Delia winced as the skunk hooked a forepaw beneath her, lifting her shoulders from the carpet. She was still impaled on his monster cock, and pushed at his neck as his muzzle came down. Just then, his gross belly moved against her stomach, and an outline stood out through the fur. A curve of a shoulder, an upper arm…a face! "Oh my god!" The fear came flooding back (it had eaten someone!), and she opened her mouth to scream, looking up just in time to see its muzzle open for her.

Striper gaped for the second time in an hour, fitting his jaws over the woman’s head. She pushed at him, but a strong tug of his paw and an easy gulp sent her face down into his gullet just in time to muffle the first scream. His lips wrapped her shoulders, and he mouthed his way further over her, tasting sweat and fear and the wool of the sweater. Stretched as his jaws were from his earlier meal it only took a moment to work them fully over her shoulders, and after that, it was a simple matter to snap the rest of her torso up.

Delia screamed, struggled with all her might, but her efforts were as muffled by the skunk’s elastic throat as her cries. With a jerk her butt was in his maw, and she felt him toss his muzzle up and forward, bolting her into the slimy tunnel of his gullet. Somewhere along the way his slick shaft had pulled free, and she felt her thighs splattered with a mix of his lust and her own wetness. His tongue touched her sex, tasted the mix, but still she slid deeper, hips squeezing past the tightness at the back of his jaws as he swallowed massively. Ribs creaked and stretched a tight cage around her as she slid ever deeper, until in just under a minute, she felt his tongue on her ankles, his chops fold over her toes as his muzzle closed. The suffocatingly hot throat grew tight, squeezing her downward, and she cried out in despair as she felt him swallow.

Gulp. Tightness pressed around her head, opening to let her slide into a cramped, crowded space. Swallowed alive! She groaned, squeezed up against and around something. Someone. The clenching, slimy throat pressed her in despite the crowding, and she wriggled into the stretching space. Some poor meal was here before her. It moved! She jumped, hearing a moan.

"Barry…?" She squirmed as her feet slid in to join the rest of her, surprised to find a little air in the gaps her body and his left. "Barry, is that you?"

Barry blinked fully awake and tried to move. His efforts only slid him around in the slime-coated belly and wrapped him more tightly around his new companion. "What…what is…?" He found himself in a half-fetal position, belly pressed to someone’s back. "Delia, did the skunk get you too?" To his surprise his hand was on his crotch, and he remembered waking for a moment, feeling the skunk arching and shivering.

Delia pushed at the surrounding flesh, but her hands just slid off the mucus-coated skin. It was almost impossble to move, what with Barry pressed against her behind and the walls squeezing in from every other direction.

"He swallowed me. Why isn’t there any acid?" She blinked, sure that she caught the faintest pink light in the hot, enveloping dark.

Barry laughed hoarsely, and worked his hand between her hip and the thick bellywall. "I don't know. It’s sure hot and…tight." His wet hand was on her belly now, slipping lower.

"Barry! That tickles." Delia blinked, feeling his fingers explore the rags of her pants. "What are you…are you taking your pants off?" She wriggled, but his one hand around her waist and the enfolding flesh held her close. "Oh! You!" His underwear-fly opened behind her, and at once his cock pressed against her thigh, hard and ready. "How can you think about sex! We’re in a skunk’s stomach!"

Barry laughed again and curled himself over and around Delia, pushing his cock between her thighs and sliding his other hand around her waist. "We’re skunk-shit. And I’m horny. I’ve always wanted to do you doggy style. Mmmm." He whispered in her ear, in the little air there was. "You’re loose. He had you, didn’t he?"

Striper blinked, pawing curiously at the stretched bellyfur that had begun to bulge and ripple in a slow, rhythmic fashion. He was distracted by the need to belch, vented the air, then swallowed a bit more. His two meals were still active, squirming together, and despite his bloated state he couldn’t sleep. Finally he rolled onto his side, and just watched his belly move, waiting for his master to return. Perhaps he would have to retch them both up, or perhaps they would pass through as others had.

He paused in thought, watching his belly shiver as the two jerked inside. At last they were quiet, and he settled his cheek down, sleepily awaiting the decision.

Inside, Barry panted, arms tight around Delia and cock still pulsing in her pussy. It has been so erotic. Trapped in the skunk’s belly, pressed skin to skin, unable to move but enough to thrust into her slightly. Even so, it had set him off. She’d rather irritatingly passed out from the small air supply, and now he relaxed, let himself drift off as well. Nothing he could do now, but wait and see if he was skunk-crap.

Striper belched in his sleep, his stomach more than comfortably full. His orders were strict, and not a drop of acid flowed. Even in his sleep he swallowed another mouthful of air to replace the belch.

The two humans rested in his belly and the three slept together, waiting.

***

Victor returned just before midnight. The gate loomed, the headlights of his dark green Mercedes picking out the inconspicuous signs mounted among the wrought iron. He flicked a claw against a button and the gates parted. The signs vanished: ’Private Property. No Trespassing’. And less obvious still: ‘Property of Harmond Labs.’ Parking in the three-space garage, he got out and stretched, waving his tail to work out the cricks. It had been a nice night at the bar. He'd visited with several friends, had dinner, and talked. Of course he'd not had any alcohol himself. He got drunk very fast, what with his metabolism.

The only downside to his evening was that despite a certain reputation he'd developed around here, no women had responded to his passes tonight. He missed Lisa, gone now to her new job in Seattle. Perhaps he’d buy a ticket there for the weekend. Quite a few women had the touch of zoophilia that made his exotic appearance irresistible, but not many liked to be on hands and knees as much as she did. He missed her for more than that, too. I should have asked her to stay. I miss her.

He paused just inside the house-door, reflexively brushing down the forearm-fur where it fluffed out against the chill. There was a scent, and more than one. Human male, human female, fear…and skunk-lust. He frowned with a droop of his whiskers, and turned to a panel on the wall. His claw ran down the volume slider, then touched a button.

"Harmond labs, Raymond speaking." The speaker was turned so low that a human could barely have understood the words. He leaned in close to whisper to the microphone-grill.

"Raymond, this is Victor at the Kansas City research retreat. There have been intruders here. I smell fear and skunk-lust, so I think Striper took care of them, but I’m going to need instructions soon." He flicked off the channel and stretched quietly, preparing himself to fight if necessary. He was considerably stronger than a human of his build, and well practiced in hand-to-hand.

Of course, his favorite sort of hand-to-hand left no bruises…though perhaps a nip-mark or two. He put that thought firmly aside, and went into the living room.

Striper lay in his basket, fluffy tail wrapped around a grossly swollen belly. Curves and bulges in that stretched black fur suggested a knee, a shoulder…and there, the side of a head, and another.

"Two!" Victor padded over to close the window, then turned back to Striper. He grinned as the giant skunk woke, blinking sleeping and belching twice. "You lucky skunk. Let’s see who they were." Giving the bloated skunk a pat, he went to work.

He found a wallet and a small purse among the few remains, removed from the meals and left as the skunk had been trained. Soon he found the car as well. A little help from the Seattle office and its connections, and he knew just who they were: nobodies. Just small-time thieves with hardly a friend or relative in the world.

It took just over two hours, and then he was back at the comm. One more call to make.

"Raymond, I need a decision. I can have Striper cough these two up, but you know the stink it would create if they went public with this. Especially since he humped the woman good and proper, by the smell." He paused, and gave the now-attentive skunk a scritch behind the ears. "Or…do we need any more subjects?"

Striper, I.E. Research Project #AE11312-4e, was much more than just a skunk. He was intelligent (almost as much so as a human), obedient, and sometimes horny as a teenager. For all that, though, he seemed a great furry oaf and little more. To look beyond, you needed to see him in action, or read files that only a handful had seen.

He was a walking biological processing lab. What he did was very special: like Project –1, the raccoon, -2, the wolverine, and others, he made more creatures like himself. Left to his own devices and the company of Project –4f, his female counterpart, she’d soon birth out a litter of ‘normal’, nonsentient giant skunks of little use to the company. Given the right meal, a living person, his belly would reduce that hapless one to a wad of tailored seed. And then, when he eagerly injected that wad into the skunk-female…

"Good boy." He patted the massive skunk’s flat head, so like his own smaller one. Raymond had answered as he’d expected. "These…" He knelt beside the swollen gut, spending a moment stroking the outlines of the two. "Are yours." He gave the belly a last pat, and stood, smiling at the happy expression on his pet’s face. Already he heard the first gurgle, as acids began to fill the space around the sleeping humans. "Save them. Save what they are, Striper." He grinned, and padded for the stairs and bed. "It’s almost mating season."

***

Striper followed the female skunk, only two-thirds his size but faster. Eventually she paused to wait for him, and without hesitation he climbed up her back, locking his forepaws around her belly and biting hard into her scruff. A powerful, eager arch of his back, and he was in her, stroked by her hot, yielding tunnel. She wasn’t so tight as the little human females he sometimes had.

He humped, churr-growling, and remembered the human meals he’d had days ago. His mate, soon to be filled with his semen, would bear two cubs.

Victor watched on the screen as the bigger skunk mounted the smaller, and settled back in his chair with a sigh. He could never watch this without wanting a female of his own, wanting one very badly. He thought of other things to distract himself.

There would be a male and female cub from the mating he was watching. They were already named, though they would remember little of their human lives, just as he remembered little of his. He tapped his hand on his thigh, thinking about that human Victor. 'An unhappy man.' That was all he really knew, largely because he'd not asked.

He was a happy man now. A happy man-skunk, but still a man. Perhaps these two would be like him, two-legged with useful hands, or perhaps one or both would grow to a great four-pawed brute of a thinking skunk, like Striper. But he could hope that the female would be a skunk-woman, for in the entire world there was no other skunk-man like him to woo her. He could hope.

The thoughts trailed off as the huge skunk on the screen rasped out a growl, haunch-fur twitching, tail vibrating with his passion. The female beneath echoed the cry, and Victor undid the laces that held his white shorts shut. He licked his lips, then leaned down and slid his muzzle beneath the waistband.

Tonight he had no Lisa, and the women he knew in town were too far away. Some things would not wait.

The End