Smokey And The Pothead
SMOKEY AND THE POTHEAD
by Little Bill
(WARNING: The following story contains sexual activity between a human and a copyrighted furry character. Please do not read this if you are a minor or are offended by such material. But if neither is the case, enjoy.)
My work is never done, grumbled Smokey the Bear to himself as he walked quickly through the woods, dressed in his standard Montana hat and trousers and carrying his long-handled shovel. After nearly a week of very hot weather, things had cooled down, but it was still warmer than Smokey liked, and the unusually high heat had made the dryness of the forest area worse than usual. A dry forest meant ripe conditions for forest fires, and despite all the campaigning he and his predecessors had done under the auspices of the United States Forest Service over the years, there were always arsonists or people who were simply carelessly stupid. Smokey did not know if he had actually smelled smoke, or if he was just imagining, but all the same he was prompted to check out what was going on.
Smokey was soon glad that he did, for as he followed the smell, he realized that it was most definitely smoke. Not in a concentration that suggested a serious fire, but definitely a fire, and even a small fire would be dangerous in the conditions of dryness the forest was in. He broke into a run, hoping to catch the fire while it was still small. And since the fire obviously was not caused by lightning, Smokey knew a human had started it, and he was raring to catch that person too.
Smokey's heart pounded as he got closer to the source of the smoke. He saw the glow of a fire between the small trees he was pushing through, and he pushed through in a panic. Some dry brush on the ground had caught fire, and it was spreading fast.
Smokey frantically but expertly used his shovel to brush the dry pine needles away from the trees so the fire wouldn't spread, and he quickly dug up dry dirt and threw it onto the burning brush. The fire was getting smaller, and Smokey quickly unzipped and pulled down his trousers. Glad the he had chosen not to use the toilet earlier, he urinated onto the flames, then turned around and defecated on them. Once his bowel was empty, he took out a package of wet wipes from his pocket and cleaned his anus with them, also dropping them on the ash and excrement pile. Using his shovel to dig through the ashes, he was satisfied the the fire was indeed out, and he exhaled in relief. One more minute and the fire would have spread to the trees, concluded Smokey, greatly relieved that he didn't have to radio the Fire Service. But mingled with the smoke was the unmistakeable smell of cannabis, and he knew that some pothead decided to have a toke and got careless with lighting it, and chose to run off when he had started the fire. But I'm going to get you, creep, promised Smokey.
And Smokey had years of tracking experience to go along with his sharp bear senses, so it was child's play for him to find the route which the pothead had fled from his or her crime. As expected, the pothead had been running toward the highway. Smokey worried that the perpetrator might get into a car and flee before he could catch the person. But luck was with Smokey, or rather not with the pothead. The bear saw a long-haired human hurriedly step through the woods, but he was having trouble maneuvering on the uneven forest floor. The person turned and saw Smokey, then tried to run away, but after only a few steps, Smokey had pounced upon him and pinned him down. The human shouted in panic, but Smokey threw one paw over his mouth.
"Shut your yap, creep," growled Smokey.
After some time, the human stopped shouting, evidently realizing he was not about to get mauled. Smokey moved his hand away.
"Only you can prevent forest fires," said Smokey, never tiring of repeating that slogan.
"Huh?" said the person.
Smokey raised himself up, allowing the person to turn around halfway. He was a man with long hair and a day's growth of beard on his face, wearing shabby clothes and an army-issue backpack, and reeking of cannabis, and very surprised to see Smokey the Bear staring back at him.
"And by the way." continued Smokey, "this isn't a drug-induced hallucination. I'm for real. The real Smokey the Bear."
"Uh, how are you?" asked the man, still incredulous.
"Not happy that you started a fire in a dry forest and then tried to run off," Smokey replied, "that's how I am. Fortunately I managed to put out the fire you started just before you fled."
"Uh, heh-heh, that's great," said the man.
"Not so great that you started the fire to begin with. This place is a tinderbox, no thanks to the hot weather we just had last week. And not only do you decide to light some roaches right in the middle of it, when you set dry brush on fire, instead of trying to do anything about it, you choose to run away from the consequences. I hate that as much as I hate arsonists."
"S-sorry!"
Smokey used one paw to grab the pothead around the neck. "Sorry isn't good enough," he growled.
The man began to panic. "Please don't kill me!" he shouted.
"Don't tempt me," replied Smokey. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so."
The man calmed down again. "All right, I surrender. Turn me in."
"I could, but I don't care to go through all the paperwork involved," said Smokey.
The man looked surprised. "You do paperwork?"
"What do you think, that I'm just a mascot?" replied Smokey sardonically. "No, I'm not a policeman, just a United States Forest Service employee. Technically, I can make citizen's arrests, and turn arsonists over to the police." Smokey smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. "You know how a lot of people who start forest fires don't get caught by the police? Guess why."
"You're joking, right?" hazarded the man.
Smokey stopped smiling. "Forest fires get me very, very upset, you know. And police don't like arsonists any more than I do. So when somebody starts a forest fire and disappears without a trace...the police often have no way of telling how. Suffice it to say, when the police find someone has burned to death in a forest fire they started...they're going to think he got his just desserts, know what I mean?"
"Okay, I may have started a fire, but I thought you said you put it out?"
"Just barely. Why do you think I didn't harm you? But you'd better come and see what damage you did."
Smokey set the man down and added, "Oh, and if you're thinking of running away, just remember that I'm much faster than any human. And about the old wives' tale about climbing a tree to escape a bear...we bears can climb trees too. So I trust that you'll be a good boy and follow me like I asked."
So Smokey the Bear walked toward where he had put out the fire, the man cooperatively following. They reached the site, and Smokey shuddered as to how close the man's carelessness had come to causing a catastrophe. He turned toward the man in an obviously strained voice, "This...could have destroyed the whole forest. It was a good thing I got suspicious about the smell of smoke. And I know that you've been smoking cannabis. I could smell it quite easily."
"All I did was take a rest break and have a toke," replied the man rather defensively. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."
"Cannabis is quite illegal in this jurisdiction," said Smokey. "This is why you decided to have your toke here? Away from possible prying eyes?"
"Okay, so I was. I swear I wasn't trying to cause a fire."
"You might have not been deliberately trying, but look!" Smokey pointed to where he had put out the fire. "You may be a stoner, but even a brain-fried junkie should have been able to see that those pine needles were very dry and inflammable. It would have been just as dangerous to have your toke on top of a can of gasoline."
"I guess I wasn't thinking."
"And as soon as you realized you started a fire, you just ran off, didn't you? You didn't even try to put it out."
"How could I have? I panicked!"
Smokey smiled grimly. "I don't know if it's the cannabis, of if you're naturally stupid. But I'm going to teach you a lesson that the veriest dunce couldn't possibly forget."
The man started backing away, but Smokey quickly reached out and grabbed him. "What did I say about trying to run off?" he asked.
"W-what are you going to do to me?"
"Like I said, something you're not going to forget." Smokey threw the man down on the ground, so that he was lying on his back, then quickly placed on big hind foot on the man's chest, applying enough pressure to hold him down without hurting him.
"Promise me no running off again?" asked Smokey. "Now I'm going to raise my foot, and you stay where you are. Got that, creep?"
The man nodded, and stayed as he was when Smokey moved his foot. Smokey then found a nearby broken-off section of a thick tree branch, picked it up, estimated its weight, and placed it atop the man's chest.
"What are you-" began the man.
"It's not that I don't trust you not to run off," replied Smokey sardonically, "but I don't like leaving things to chance." He raised his foot so that his sole was positioned above the man's face. "Now...lick my foot."
The man looked strangely at Smokey. "Is this some sort of joke?"
Smokey lowered his foot and pressed it against the man's face. "No, I'm giving you an order!"
"Stick it up your ass!"
Smokey smiled. "Then if you wish, I shall turn you over to the authorities. You could very well find yourself prosecuted for attempted arson."
"But I didn't set the fire on purpose!"
"Perhaps not, but when you light a fire right among a pile of dry pine needles, it's going to be pretty difficult to prove you were merely careless."
The man looked at Smokey in dismay. "You're going to deliberately frame me?"
Smokey laughed derisively. "Of course not! What do you take me for, anyway?"
"A weirdo who's asking me to lick his feet."
Smokey gave a half-smile. "Oh, I thought you might prefer that over my sending you to jail. Tell me, have you ever been arrested before?"
"Well, yes, if that's any of your business."
"Only in the sense that I was curious to know how you enjoyed the experience."
"I've been busted for drugs and for vagrancy, and yes, I've been in jail."
"I trust you didn't enjoy those experiences."
"So it's lick your foot or you're going to have me charged with arson?"
"No, I'm not going to accuse you of deliberately starting a fire, I'll just turn you over to the local cops and tell them what you did, and they'll check it out. And accident or no accident, they're going to take as dim a view of your nearly causing a forest fire as I do." Smokey added in a menacing tone, "And I taken an extremely dim view of people who start forest fires."
The man cringed at Smokey's voice, his earlier flippancy gone. Smokey continued, "You're talking to someone who has seen years' worth of forest fires and the harm they do. Beautiful forests devastated and that don't come back for many decades, animals burned to death. Yes, I know forest fires occur naturally too from lightning strikes, and that there are controlled forest burns to rid certain forest areas of detritus, but I cannot abide by those that are started by human negligence or malice.
"I could turn you over to the authorities. I could even make you disappear, since you seem to be just a drifter who nobody would miss. But I decided that I could teach you to be more careful in the future by doing a little harm to your pride. Saves myself a bit of paperwork and you having a criminal record, unless you have one already." Smokey rubbed his toe pads along the man's lips. "So the ball is in your court. What is your choice?"
The man winced. He was tempted to say that he would rather go to jail...but he had been in jail on drug and vagrancy charges before. He had never served actual time...but his previous jail experiences were not pleasant ones. If Smokey Bear was true to his word, all he would have to go through was a bit of degradation, and he would walk.
Smokey's hind paw loomed right in front of his face, truly gigantic from his point of view. Hanging right above him, and heavy enough to crush his head easily if it were lowered. Though Smokey indicated that he did not have murderous intention, the gigantic foot in front of him was still ominous looking. Huge black pads on his sole and toes, framed by coarse brown fur, and scary claws emanating from each toe.
Yet to his surprise, the man found the sight of this huge bear paw to also be fascinating. How amazing it was, to have a live bear paw right in front of his face, and he could touch it. He found the texture of the pads fascinating. There were a few scars, but surprisingly few for someone who must spend most of his life outside in bare feet. Then a question popped into the man's mind, and before he could stop himself, the question emanated from his lips.
"You're not the original Smokey the Bear, are you?"
"Of course not," Smokey replied with a slight smile. "The original character of 'Smokey Bear' was created in 1944," Smokey replied. "Yes, that is my official name, but of course everybody says 'Smokey the Bear', so it's fine to call me that. And there have been a number of bears that have been in my place before me."
"Like there have been a number of actors who have played James Bond?"
"Actually, more like the British Royal Family, only more useful. When the United States Forest Service came up with an idea of a bear mascot to educate the public about the dangers of forest fires, naturally they needed a bear. Of course not just any bear, but one who has the necessary intelligence and temperament to do the job. They managed to find one, and he was the original mascot. Of course, bears aren't immortal, so there was eventually a need for a replacement. Fortunately by then the government managed to create a pool of potential standbys. Obviously most of them don't get to become the Smokey mascot, but they still receive a decent living, and they don't have to live in the wild or in a zoo. They get their own protected area to live in."
"So how did you-"
"-become the current Smokey the Bear? Good timing, among other reasons. Remember that I'm a government employee, and we don't go around spilling secrets willy-nilly."
Then Smokey pressed a toe down upon the man's nose. "In any case, I think we've delayed things enough. Last chance to avoid being thrown in jail."
As fascinating as the bear's huge paw looked, the man was reluctant to actually place his tongue upon it-but he was even more reluctant to be taken to jail. With great trepidation, the man raised his head just enough so that the tip of his tongue could touch the big black paw pad...
There was the taste of dust and dirt, but it was not as bad as the man had expected; as a druggie he had had to taste worse things. He moved his head as he started licking along the bear's big paw pad, spreading his saliva out further from his starting point. In fact, he was starting to feel an erotic sensation that he never would have imagined as he licked more and more of the large pad, and eventually moved to reach the toe pads...
The man's erotic feelings as his tongue was licking Smokey's paw pads were not lost on the bear, who reacted with shock and dismay. Oh, God, it never occurred to me that this man would have a fetish for my paws, Smokey thought-and then he smiled to himself. But this might just serve as an advantage.
Smokey patiently kept his leg raised just so, so that his captive could have access to the entirety of his sole. He could smell the pheromones as the man was obviously sexually aroused, and when Smokey felt the time was appropriate, he moved his foot away from the man's face-and deliberately stroked it along the man's groin. The man gave a shuddering moan of pleasure, and looked at Smokey with a nonplussed expression. Then Smokey placed his foot down onto the ground and lifted his other hind foot so that it hovered above his captive's face.
"Remember I have two hind feet!" Smokey proclaimed.
In response, the man started licking the other sole. Smokey found himself enjoying the licking, and tempting thoughts started leaching into his head-but he pushed them away. I was chosen to be Smokey the Bear, and my duty comes above all else, he reminded himself.
After the man had licked the entirety of his paw pads with his tongue, Smokey the Bear moved his foot away, and deliberately stroked the man's groin with that before settling it on the ground. With both feet firmly on the ground, Smokey squatted down to lift the branch off the man's chest, allowing him to move. The man quickly sat up and deliberately grabbed Smokey's leg.
"Please," begged the man, "I w-want to-"
"Yes, I know what you want," interrupted Smokey. "Unfortunately, you're not going to get it. That was supposed to be a punishment, after all."
"All right, I've been punished. Can't I-"
Smokey gave a short, sharp laugh. "Who do you think I am?" the bear demanded. "I'm an icon of social responsibility. My duty is to teach people proper behavior and not do bad things! Do you think I'm going to ruin it all for myself and my predecessors by engaging in scandalous behavior?"
"No one has to know!"
Losing patience, Smokey grabbed the man by the neck and pulled him to a standing position. "Let me tell you something you clearly don't understand," Smokey told him. "I admit that when I had you lick my feet, I wasn't aware that you had a fetish for them. Remember why I did it? It was meant to be a humiliating punishment for your nearly causing a forest fire with your stupidity. So it turned out to be a pleasure for you to lick my feet? And you were hoping maybe to do more to them?" Smokey smiled grimly. "Well, you can forget about that-consider that your punishment!"
The man gave a whimper.
"Aw, blue balls," Smokey scoffed. "Too bad. But I think it's time you'd best be on your way."
The bear half-dragged the man through the trees toward the highway, but upon reaching it, looked surprised to see it devoid of any parked vehicles.
"Don't you have a car or bicycle?" asked Smokey.
"I walked," replied the man.
"Oh! Well, which way were you going?"
The main pointed, and Smokey gave him the directions to a town in that direction and his recommendations as to what to do when he got there, giving the man a push in that direction to get him started. The man started walking, looking toward Smokey one last time, out of curiosity rather than anything else. Smokey gave him a look back as to indicate that the man should keep proceeding as instructed. The man did, expecting the bear to go back to the part of the forest where he had almost started the fire. Instead, Smokey crossed the highway into the woods on the other side, and the man wondered what the bear was up to now.
It turned out that Smokey had already sensed smoke from another fire that was starting in a different part of the woods. Running towards the source, he discovered some punks who were also among pine needles-and unlike the pothead from before, they were deliberately starting a fire.
Needless to say, they suffered a far worse fate than mere sexual frustration.