Skunked!
#20 of Grant and Grace
You have always had a fetish for powerful smells, but being turned into a hulking and perpetually odoriferous skunk-beast is a bit more extreme than you would have wanted.
"Wow what a fucking terrible day." You mutter.
Life in the Apple Store is not normally stressful for you, but the weeks following the release of the latest gadget are always a complete bedlam. As the inevitable bugs and quirks make themselves known to the general public store locations are filled with frustrated customers young and old. At this point it is your job to repair the expensive devices and send the customers on their way. Naturally the process is fraught with accidents and unforeseen speed-bumps. Today, in the last hour of your ten-hour shift, a particularly irate mother spat and argued in order to be reimbursed for her time and inconvenience. You were of course ordered by your superiors to acquiesce to her. When she was relatively calmed you were finally able to recover your un-eaten lunch and flee from the bustling shop.
The frustration and stress of the day's events clung to you for much of the drive home. 'And it's only Tuesday...' you think as a scowl forms on your mug. It is a pleasant night however. You ride with the windows down and embrace the succulent spring air. When you are nearly home the day dreams of verbally accosting the horrible mother from earlier begin to fade. And, when you arrive at your destination, a decidedly more pleasant suggestion worms its way into your consciousness. As you wind your way to the front door you allow this familiar mental distraction to take hold.
From a young age you have held a singular fascination with smells. These are not mild or pleasant scents as one might guess, though you find them immeasurably pleasurable. You are consistently aroused by heady and 'offensive' smells. The aroma of strong body odor, or the whiff of a well-worn sock are favorites for instance. While you are unsure what sparked this interest within you, you have since embraced it wholesale. When you are at the gym the odors that waft off of the other fit and sweaty patrons excites you to no end. You have on a few occasions 'indulged' these tastes when you've been able to find a private shower and while the smell still clings to your nostrils.
You are happy to learn that your flat mates are all away. While they are your close friends you are thankful for the rare quiet. Particularly as your excited mind concocts a new, kinky idea. Your apartment is dark and oddly quiet. You drop your bag and work clothes onto the common-room couch and head for your bedroom.
"Oh god, that's so dirty." You chuckle to yourself. How had you never thought of it before? A rubber band and your own sweaty sock could be combined to make a sort of mask which would envelope your nose nicely. You imagine the inescapable and musky scent and shove your burgeoning erection to one side. Just then you arrive at your closed door. "So messed up... but I love it." You grin "Gahhh, I wish I knew someone who was as into this stuff as I am."
When you shove open the door to your bedroom you are immediately aware that there is someone waiting in the darkness. You can't hear or see anything but you know there's someone there. The darkness in the room appears to be centralized in one form which hovers above your bed. Almost human-shaped and doubly terrifying due to its hazy, and indefinite outline. For a frightening minute you are certain you are seeing an actual ghost. A panicked curiosity forces your hand to flip the light switch thereby illuminating the room. What you find is only slightly less terrifying than a ghostly apparition.
"Welcome home." It says with a discomforting smile crooking his lips.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, looking for all the world as though he owns it, is an anthropomorphic dog; a bull terrier with white fur and of about your height. He only watches as you yelp and hide behind your doorframe. You glare with non-believing eyes. A contorted look of horror twists your features. He wears fine-looking silken trousers and a sash. With legs crossed he bobs one of his paws in the air. Your darting eyes soon notice his wholly black eyes. Two impenetrably black spheres which seem to stare directly through you.
"How was work?" He adds. You can only wonder how he forms words with his canine mouth.
"Whu-whu-what the fuck!" You shout. "What are you? What ARE you?"
"Easy James." The dog says, resting his hands on the bedside. "My name is Grant and I am exactly what I appear to be." As your mind attempts, in vain, to rationalize the character's presence he continues. "I'd think someone with your tastes would be happy to see me." He tilts his head sideways.
You shake your head continuously in thorough disbelief.
"There's no way. This is impossible." You stutter as you ease into the room from your hiding place. You insist that Grant is hallucinatory primarily under the hope that he will prove you wrong. While you were too startled to understand his comment from a few seconds earlier the implications begin to dawn on you. 'He knows I'm a furry.' You think. 'How?--'
"That's what they all say." Grant states while rolling his pupil less eyes. He rises from your bed and steadily pads toward you. While you are terribly shocked you hold your ground. "I know it's hard to believe, but I'm real. Here, see?" With this Grant grabs your hand in his and presses it against his chest. You blush a bit as your hand brushes his short fur. It is slightly clammy, as though he were previously exerting himself. His nearly dried sweat coats your palm. He watches you with intrigue before releasing your hand. As you stand in excited awe you instantly think 'God I wonder what he smells like.'
Feeling overwhelmed you hardly know what to say first. "S-s-so what are you doing here?" You ask. Grant stands apart from you with his arms crossed. He seems vaguely eager, though for what you can't imagine.
"I grant wishes, as the name suggests. Just now you wished to meet someone who shares your ... unique appreciation of scent, so I thought I would introduce myself." Grant explains.
"Oh, my what?" You say "What are you talking about?" You think your genius attempt to play dumb sounded convincing, but Grant catches you.
"Don't insult me James. I know you've wanted to sniff the hand that touched my chest since I let it go." Grant says making suggestive eyes. "You can, I won't be embarrassed. Like I said I share your feelings for that sort of thing." Absently you lift your fingertips to your nose and slowly whiff. The scent his heavenly. Pungent and strong, but somehow aromatic. Like the smell of dog fur, but with the enticing tingle of masculine body odor. You breathe heavily as you let the hand fall. While this impossible situation increasingly excites you the feeling that you are somehow being cornered looms.
"That's what I thought. You like?" He asks.
"Ohhh yeah." You shamelessly breathe.
"Don't you wish you could have a strong odor like that all the time?" Grant asks coyly while pacing your room. He eyes you over his shoulder, tail wagging slightly. "A nice heady scent following you wherever you go..." Between the anthropomorphic dog's startling, yet not unwanted presence and your whiff of his incredible scent rational thought has for the most part left you. The boner in your pants extends down your pant leg and all you want to do is bury your nose in Grant's fur.
"Yeah. I think, I mean, yeah! I do." You babble.
"I can work with that." Grant says. Suddenly a black whirling corona appears between you and the dog. Feet wide and translucent. You fall back against the wall and watch the spectacle. It spins and spins centimeters from Grant's back before freezing in place and vanishing into shards which rapidly disappear.
"What the hell was Aaagh!" Your inquiry is halted when a fierce pain in your legs strikes. A deep and unusual pain. You stumble away from Grant while gripping your ankles which are presently undergoing a slow transformation. Your feet grow wider and longer while sprouting a wave of black fur. You are lifted from the ground as plump paw pads appear on the undersides of your sole and toes. Small, white claws emerge from your chubby toes. Your breaths come short as you stare in shock. As the transformation climbs your legs the sounds of shifting bone and muscle fill the room. Grant turns to watch with rapt attention.
"What arrr, what are you doing to me?" You groan as you grip your huge, fuzzy paws.
"Granting your wish!" Grant says. His eyes have taken on shifting white shapes. From the way he watches you you discern he is carefully controlling your transformation.
"Hey. Hey! Stop wha--" You begin.
"Quiet down. I'm trying to focus." Grant says quietly. You are too intimidated to argue. Not that you could form the words as the painful change has reached your waist. You look down and find your pants have burst and largely fallen away. You stand atop two wide and black-furred legs. You've gained considerable weight and muscle. Presently your groin grows. A bulge becomes apparent in the front side of your pants before expanding, finally shredding what remains of your pants. Your penis, now larger and strangely shaped, swings freely.
A crescendo of cracks in your vertebrae accompanies the formation of your tail. Bone by bone it grows with the ever present fur following. Though on your emerging tail the black fur mingles with white. As you hold your sides and groan the tail is completed. It stands at nearly the height of your head and is humorously bushy and fluffy. You take it in your hands as your waist and lower torso are changed. You glare at Grant with hopeless terror. He only and smiles in reply. The nightmare shapes continually shifting within his eyes.
An idea strikes. You release your new tail and stumble toward the antagonistic dog on your bed. He claims to be granting your wish but, you decide, nothing is worth the pain and discomfort you presently endure. Grant remains stock still with only his eyes showing movement. As fur winds its way up your chest you rear a balled fist and prepare to hit the dog's face as hard as you can. He hasn't budged, but you don't let this deter you. You let your fist fly. It fails to connect with anything at all. And when you double take you find that Grant is leaning against your now closed bedroom door. At the instant your fist passed through the spot where Grant was sitting his voice could be heard in your ear.
"Mmmm I am going to make you wish you hadn't done that." Grant laughs. When you look at your arm you find it has completely transformed. The bulky and massive arms juts from your still human shoulder. Your hand now bears stout and paw-like fingers with white claws.
"Ah, Ahhh! How did you...!? Please stop!" You shout "I'm sorry." Grant simply shakes his head and continues eying.
Your stomach begins to bulge. Your entire midsection becomes husky and flabby. Its fur, in contrast with what has been seen so far, is largely white. You run your changed hand over your chubby belly in disbelief. Then the tide of fur begins to transform your other arm. Your shoulder joint and upper arm snap and twist to their new arrangements. As with your stomach your arms grow robust and heavyset. You stretch out your hand as the ring and pinky fingers merge giving you four large fingers. They are coated in black fur as white claws emerge from their tips. You glare at both hands and your protruding belly.
"Please, don't do this." You plead, but the dog remains stoic.
Your neck is covered in fluff and widens considerably. Your skull rearranges loudly and your face changes shape. Your nose and mouth, slowly being coated with fur, extend outward.
"Mnnn, aagh." You groan. Your teeth become sharpened and sturdy. You grow whiskers and a pink, button nose forms on your new muzzle. "Hack, aahh." Your tongue then grows long and broad to fill the maw. When the uncomfortable blinking subsides you find that your new eyesight is not as sharp as it was before. Your ears rapidly shift to the sides of your head with a 'fwip' and when they transform they flood with heightened sensitivity.
You swagger aimlessly for a few minutes as the transformation subsides and you come to your senses. The first thing you feel is a surprising heaviness. Your skunk-like form with its wide belly and copious fur feels oafish. Your eyes wander to Grant with a mixture of fear and anger. You open your muzzle to yell as Grant steps away from the wall and points an accusing finger at you.
"Now James, I was planning to grant you this body as it is now and call it a day, Buuuuut in light of your would-be attack I've decided to make a few alterations." The dog announces. You crouch in your clumsy, skunk body. Before you can protest new changes occur.
*Kruk, kruk* "Urrrrghh!" You groan loudly as your lower jaw enlarges and juts outward leaving you with a pronounced underbite. Then your lower canines become huge. You look down your muzzle quizzically and see the pointed, white tips jutting up from the lower lip. Then your nose which was cute and pink becomes swollen and large. Cartoonish in proportion and colored red. It becomes surpassingly sensitive to smell and touch. "Unnh huh? Noooo." You moan. Your back becomes hunched and stooped. Lastly you begin to notice an odor. If you weren't quite so angry and disgusted you would find it extremely attractive. Wafting from your furry body is a strong and pungent odor. A combination of human body odor and whatever skunks smell like, you imagine. Despite its enticing smell you are crestfallen.
"There. A body to reflect your dirty mind." Grant states with a stern look on his face.
You shamble with plodding pawsteps to the standing mirror by your bedroom door and are shocked by what you see. You are a monster. Standing at six feet tall and with a protruding gut and hunched over frame. Your lower jaw is thick and your eyes, further altered by Grant, appear reddened and you peer out from a heavy, caveman-like brow. You can't recognize yourself. You look down at your clumsy hands and hefty gut. All along your skunk-like body continues to reek.
"No, no, no." You mumble.
"Yes, yes, yes." Grant replies. "Come on James. Us furries love this kind of thing." The dog approaches and pats you on your thickly furred back.
"Not like 'dis. 'Dis isn't how it was supposed ta go." You reply. Your huge jaw and giant form rendering your voice unrecognizable. Your new voice is deep and, to your ears, dumb sounding. "I can't stay like 'dis. I look like a monster. You have to change me back."
"But you're so smelly now. Isn't it amazing?" Grant chides.
"Noooo, no." You groan. Your heavy and unfamiliar body feels like a prison. The flab and almost-palpable odor make you feel as though you are wrapped in an irremovable suit. "You tricked me, bastard. I never asked for 'dis."
Grant holds his hands up palms outward in a calming display. "Come on champ, give it a shot. Don't you want to try spraying something?"
While you are dying to learn how dank your spunk spray must smell you are distraught over your loss of your human body. "No Grant. Change me back, now!" You grab the dog by his shoulders and shake him roughly.
"Wrong answer." Grant says. You hear a hiss and soon a new smell appears forming a nearly-visible cloud surrounding you. It is impossibly acrid and strong. It burns your throat and nostrils. Though after the initial shock you have to admit that it is incredibly sexy. You cough a bit as you realize that the smell is coming from yourself. After releasing Grant you find that you are expressing your stink glands directly onto the floor uncontrollably. The fluid sends the noxious fumes directly upward and into your newly delicate nose. It is almost too much to bear. As enticing as it is you are forced to back out of the cloud as your cock rises. You are stopped by Grant however who stands at your backside.
Your muzzle is suddenly slammed shut when Grant closes his hands around it. You twist and turn, but Grant's hands may as well be made of metal. He forces your face to the ground at the epicenter of your spraying. You claw and grab, but his grip resists. Mouth shut as it is you are forced to inhale through your nose and in your current panic you are doing so rapidly. Your entire consciousness is soon consumed by the odor you have released into the room. Completely in spite of yourself you moan in pleasure as the sizzling and overpowering scent worms its way into your large, red nose. "Mrrpph. Mnnnn." You feel lightheaded.
"There we go. Get a nice whiff. I've designed your spray to exterminate all rational thought." Grant explains with relish. "I could have easily removed your mouth for this of course, but I always prefer a hands on approach. James when your brain is clay I will enjoy remolding it how I see fit you smelly skunk."
"Hmmph!? Mhmh!" You grunt in shock when you hear this news. Despite the fact that you are now larger than Grant you are completely powerless against him. He holds you without flinch or struggle. Unfortunately in your exasperated state your lightheadedness increases quickly. You try to remind yourself to be alert, but even this proves difficult. 'Don't let him, uhhhh. don't...' You think. Soon you find your body relaxing as the will to fight leaves you. You begin to give in to the power of the noxious fumes. Finally you stop struggling all together. You lay your huge form back against Grant's chest. You breathe deeply in your state of confusion.
"How do you feel?" Grant whispers into your ear.
"Duhh, I feel good." You say absently. You are unsure whether or not you feel good, but you do enjoy laying against Grant and you greatly enjoy the stench in the bedroom.
"Somehow I knew you would." Grant says. With one hand he strokes your burly arms and with the other he produces a collar and leash. You watch cross eyed as the dog affixes the collar around your neck. It is a snug fit. When the dog does a test pull of the leash you have a hazy realization.
"I should go." You say "I don't think I should be near you." Even in your addled state you remember to fear Grant.
The dog grips your arm and whispers again. "Oh no, you can't go out there. It's freezing cold. You should stay in here where it's warm." It is, of course, balmy and pleasant outside, but the dog's suggestion burrows into your mind.
"Oh yeah. Den maybe I should just stay here." You grumble. Grant's chest is certainly warm. 'I think I can trust him.' In curiosity you lean your muzzle toward Grant's armpit. You poke your swollen nose into it and inhale deeply. Pungent and dank. Your eyes well from the strength of the smell and from perverse delight.
"Mmm. Know what else you should do? Get on the ground and smell my paws you filthy skunk." Grant orders.
"Dat would be amazing." You say with an idiotic grin on your oversized jaw. You crouch over and begin to take one of Grant's paws in hand.
"Uh-uh. You don't get to touch. Get on your back." Grant orders.
"But I..." You begin. When Grant glares you decide you should do as he says. You lay on the ground at his feet, facing upward, eagerly awaiting your first whiff.
Grant places one of his paws on your torso and then lifts the other over your face. With an excited grin on his maw he slowly allows the hanging paw to descend. As it eclipses the light above and before it reaches your face you begin to catch the smell. A mixture of sweat and dirt wafts around the appendage. Suddenly Grant presses his foot onto your muzzle so that the paw pads grip your large nose. You can hardly breathe and the breaths that come are entirely tainted by the smell of Grant's musky paw. His other paw rhythmically presses into your chest forcing you to inhale and exhale the almost toxic scent repeatedly.
"How does it smell, pervert?" Grant asks.
"Mmphh So good." You say in genuine glee, partially muffled by the paw.
"You like the smell of my stinky paws?" Grant asks rhetorically, a sadistic grin plastered on his face.
"Yeahhh." You say.
In response the dog twists the paw on your sensitive nose. The clammy and furry surface nearly invading your nostrils. The smell is intense. You aren't sure you will ever escape it. Almost as though it is a permanent part of your nose. Though for your part you wouldn't have it any other way. The dog then allows his other paw to travel and make its way to your groin. He uses his free paw to carefully knead and excite your member. You run a hand over your chubby belly and continue to moan.
"Dis is da best." You say. Grant stops his twisting and titillating.
"The best?" He asks "Don't you want to smell something even stronger?" You poke your head out from under the looming paw.
"Like what?" You ask.
"Stand up, I'll show you." Grant orders. He tugs on your leash repeatedly until you are standing. Then, with leash still in hand, he begins to disrobe. He removes his sash and pants and throws them into the corner of the room. The dog, eyeing you seductively, then bends over your computer desk with his rump and tail waving. He pears over his shoulder at you.
"Come." He says. You awkwardly approach. "On your knees." You begin to catch on to his idea and become extremely excited. You fall to your knees leaving your face perfectly level with the dog's rear. You anticipate his next move, yet without warning he jerks strongly on the leash forcing your face up against his buttocks.
"Hummph!" You groan in surprise. Instinctively you pull back on the leash, but as before Grant's grip is unflinching. When you've relaxed you slowly draw in the scent of the rump. It is stinging, as the armpit was, but this time mixed with a copious amount of BO. It is an extremely heady scent. You repeatedly sniff which tickles Grant mightily. The ass cheeks themselves are warm and the tail rests atop your head. You gently wrap one arm around Grant's thigh. The other hand finds its way to your throbbing penis and you begin to masturbate. Between the scent and Grant's deliciously awful treatment you are overwhelmed with lust. Grant soon notices your frantic and lustful pumping.
"Hahaha, you really are a freak. I barely have to control you. Breath deep, Stinky." The dog chides. You merely groan into his ass cheeks and continue to please yourself to his musky scent.
Your large hands feel strange on your new member, but you are unperturbed. They do the job handily and you couldn't be happier. A bit of pre helps to lubricate and accelerate your pace further. The dog continues to deride and mock you. Calling you 'Dirty skunk' or 'Stinky.' The barely cogent rational side of your personality can't believe that you are, in a sense, truly living your dream. Finally smelling the pungent odor of a live anthro. You could have done without the smelly, monstrous skunk body but in your present bliss, and under the effect of Grant's hypnosis, you can't complain.
You are nearly at your climax when Grant obligingly begins to grind his ass into your face. Meanwhile he pulls the leash taut so that the smell is truly unescapable.
"Mph, mph, mph." You groan.
"That's right. Get off on my scent skunk." Grant orders.
You soon do so. You hump into your hammy, sweaty fist some final times and finally blow your load. Twitching and twitching. You pump continuously until you're sure that you are spent. When you are satisfied your wrap your dirtied hands around Grant's thighs and pull your face onto his rump for a final, deep whiff. The dog stands and pats your head. At length you remove your head from the underside of Grant's tail and look up at him.
"Oh you are a keeper." Grant says. He turns and leans on the desk, taking your huge, head in his hands. He pokes your protruding lower canines with a smirk. "You will call me master, okay? And as long as you follow my orders I will allow you to smell me again."
"Okay! Thank you, master. I will obey your every command!" You reply, rubbing your cheek into his palms.
The dog summons his clothes telekinetically onto his arm while holding your gaze. With a finger he orders you to stand and you do so. As he stoically goes about you find yourself wishing he would allow you to smell him now. You are as much a slave to smell as you are to the dog himself. Grant creates a dark, fuming portal in the room and begins to walk inside while tugging your leash. You begin to follow dutifully before catching your reflection once more in the standing mirror.
You freeze in place as a mental shift occurs. You are finally coming to your senses. The effects of your spray are diminishing. Your rational mind has begun to stir within your dumb and monstrous skunk body. Though to your horror you are unable to control it. You are a passenger in the grotesque form. 'No... no! Damnit, I didn't want this. Someone help me!' you think. Your reflection only grins cruelly in response. A taunting and mocking visage. Your leash grows taut.
"Stinky, come!" Grant's voice calls murkily from the other side of the portal.
"Yes master!" You call after him and grin before speeding blindly into the evil doorway.