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Gary stood outside the rusted gate of the decrepit mansion as dead, brown leaves fluttered about his feet on the chilled October breeze, summoning up his courage. He'd lived his entire life in the old, small town of Hamford, Conneticut his entire life and he'd been terrified of the crumbling estate on the edge of the city limits for as long as he could remember. The stories surrounding the place, stories of marauding malicious spirits and various other ghosties and ghoulies and long-legged beasties, had so affected the chubby raccoon from his earliest childhood that up to this point he'd never even managed to make it up to the gate where he was now before he chickened out and turned tail.

But today! He told himself today was different!

"You're 18 now," he'd said aloud to himself in the mirror that morning, "you're an adult, you're in college! You can't keep being afraid of a stupid house!"

That argument had sounded perfectly reasonable in the bright light of day, but now, standing there in the deep blue night, an owl hooting up a storm somewhere in the woods behind the property, he felt that familiar icy stab of fear in his ample gut. He swallowed the lump in his throat, zipped up his jacket, readjusted the backpack full of snacks on his back, and pushed his way through the gate; the rusted hinges made an ear-splitting screech as they were forcibly moved for the first time in who knows how long. ********************************************************************** Guy Blaireau stared at the moldy, moth-eaten books, the books he'd been unable to open or even touch for the better part of 150 years, and sighed in intense boredom. What a depressing fate for the ghostly badger; once a beloved French aristocrat who'd immigrated to the United States and helped bankroll the nearby township of Hamford, now an incorporeal spirit chained to this mortal realm by the sprawling home he'd made for himself.

It wasn't even so much the disembodied state that bothered him, it was the loneliness. The last time anyone had entered the house had been at some point in the 1980s when it was saved from destruction by the local historical society. There'd been talking of restoring the home to its former glory and converting it into a museum, but nothing had ever come of it.

Just as he was considering floating over to the east wing again for the five millionth time, a grating screech drew his attention to the window looking out onto the overgrown, weed-choked front lawn. If he had a heart, it would've been pounding like a jackhammer as he saw a young raccoon, well over the hefty side, working his way through the waist-high talk grass, flashlight illuminating his way.

The apparition couldn't contain his excitement! He phased through the floor of his library and into the once-opulent dining room on the first floor. He flew through the parlour, into the foyer and towards the front door right as his ring-tailed visitor opened it, flying right into him! Both men saw a brilliant flash of green and blue light, then only black for a few moments. ************************************************************************* Guy was the first to recover, jarred roughly back into consciousness by a sudden sensory overload. Dazed confusion flooded him for a moment, and he was in the process of bringing his hands to his eyes when he froze in shock with them halfway up; those weren't his hands! The hands in front of him were pudgy and black-furred, until they switched to a light brown brown at the wrist. Suddenly he realized he could, for the first time in decades, feel! He could feel the cold air from the still-open door, could taste the dampness of his mansion. He was inside the young raccoon's rotund body, and he seemed to have complete control of his limbs.

His sense of wonder over his newfound nervous system stalled when he heard panicked yelling, not physically but inside his --or rather the young raccoon's-- head.

"FUCK FUCK OH FUCK WHAT'S HAPPENING I CAN'T MOVE!!!"

"Calm down, mon amie," he said, utilizing the raccoon's vocal cords, "you're perfectly fine and safe."

"WHO SAID THAT WHY AREN'T I MOVING LIKE I WANT WHAT'S HAPPENING!?!?"

"I will explain all to you, but I can't do that wiz you on the verge of a panic attack, alright? Just try to relax."

The ghostly badger heard deep, exaggerated breaths. "Ok, Ok, this is about as calm as I'm going to get, please tell me what's happening. Who are you?"

"Je m'appelle Guy Blaireau," he answered, using his new arms to pick up the flashlight from the ground, where it had fallen after their collision, and closing the door, "master of this house. Well, former owner I suppose. What is your name, garçon?"

"G-Gary. Mr.. Blaireau, how did you get in me?"

An embarrassed chuckle echoed amongst the halls as Guy used the raccoon's legs to move into the small, intimate parlour, finding a lighter in the front pants pocket and lighting the aged candles of the multiple candelabras until the room glowed with warm amber light.

"Well, mon amie, I was a bit too excited to see another person and I accidentally phased into you."

"Oh, um, OK. So, can you get out?"

"I can, but I have a favor to ask of you first."

"What's that, Mr.. Blaireau?"

Guy rubbed the younger man's pudgy arm nervously, and Gary was surprised to find that while he had no physical control he could still feel his arm being gripped.

"Might I," he asked, "stay, for just a short while?"

"W-what?!"

"Gary, S'il vous plait, please, it's been so long since I could feel! Just for the night, mon amie?"

Gary mulled it over in his head, or more suitably the head inside his head. He was terrified, but he'd read about the man the presence who'd taken him over had been, and by all accounts he'd been a wonderful person who always kept his word. In addition to that, he did feel legitimately feel bad for him being stuck in this house all alone.

"Well, I guess that's Ok. Just for the one night though, Ok?"

"But of course, mon amie. I must say, as 'appy as I was to see any living soul, I was very pleased to see such a 'andsome one come to my 'umble abode."

"H-handsome? Me?"

"Oui, very much so." Guy brought his borrowed hands up to Gary's/his head and started gently rubbing his neck and ears.

"W-what are you doing," Gary asked softly, moaning as the possessed hands lightly massaged him.

"Shh, relax mon aime," the badger answered, "both of us will enjoy this."

Guy lowered the pudgy black-furred hands he was piloting and first unzipped Gary's black jacket then gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled them both off. The badger looked down and smiled and nodded his approval, rubbing the raccoon's big, round, jiggling belly. He heard the younger man moan and whimper as the chunky paws sank into the soft, grey fur-covered flesh, and it turned into a much louder groan of pleasure as the fingers found their way to his sensitive pink nipples on his equally soft and plump chest.

"Feel good, mon doux," Guy asked with his borrowed vocal cords, himself moaning and grinding the his/Gary's hard cock against the inside of the rough demin it was encased in.

"Gods yes," he said, practically a mewling mess already, "please don't stop!"

"Jamais! I wouldn't dream of it!"

The ghostly badger piloted Gary's hands down and deftly unfastened his jeans, letting them pool around thick ankles before hooking their thumbs into the waistband of the red boxerbriefs he was wearing and tugging them down. Guy whistled approvingly at the thick, cudgel-like 7 inch cock that sprouted from his crotch above a set of balls that perfectly complimented it.

"Trés beau," Guy whispered, sitting down onto a plush velvet-upholstered couch. He desperately wanted to wrap a hand around that glorious member right then and there and finish them both off, but he still had other areas he wanted to explore first.

Guy rubbed their hands over the raccoon's big thunder thighs and over his thick, meaty calves. He popped Gary's shoes off so he could free both their ankles from the cloths that encircled them before pulling the younger man's right sock-clad foot up onto their lap. He gently peeled the moist white cotton off and stared in awe at the gorgeous, tender, squeezable pink pawpads that greeted him. He gently stroked two finger pads against the exquisitely soft soles, drawing a gasp from both of them with the light ticklish sensations. Guy bent the raccoon's body and the waist and buried the twitching black nose at the base of the short, thick toes and inhaled deeply, groaning lustfully as the scent of sweat filled their nostrils.

"Délicieux, mon doux bébé, yet I wonder 'ow they taste." He stuck their pink tongue out and began lapping at their sole and the especially tasty spot at the base of the toes. He couldn't help but notice the husky young man's cock seemed to be leaking precum heavier than before.

Gary's mind was at a complete loss for how to deal with what he was experiencing. It was like he was being touched and teased by a partner, touching himself, and touching someone else simultaneously, and it was completely and utterly confusing. As he felt his own tongue begin press flat against the sole of his other paw, which he hadn't even noticed his specter visitor had replaced his other thoroughly saliva-wetted paw with on his lap, he decided to just forget trying to understand how it worked and enjoy himself.

Once both chubby raccoon paws were completely soaked, the badger leaned back and wrapped a borrowed paw around their shared, throbbing cock. They moaned in unison as he gently, slowly squeezed and stroking the rock hard shaft. They spit into their other hand and lubricated their member to make it a smoother jerk, laying down on their back on the purple brocade couch, bringing their legs up onto the cushioned surface. Eyes closed in pleasure, their brought a hand up to their mouth and popped two fingers in, sucking until they were good and wet before reaching down under themselves and rubbing saliva on their tight tailhole.

They both gasped in mild pain as the first chubby digit slid in, but the pain quickly dissolved into indescribably pleasure as the little hard nut of their prostate was prodded and poked, even more so when the second finger was added. They thrust up into into their chunky squeezing hand, so close to orgasm they could both practically taste it. A slick sheen a sweat broke out on their forehead, their teeth clenched, their eyes squeezed tighter. Their back arched and they let out a simultaneous roar as hot, pearly-white cum erupted forth from then and splattered their chest and big round belly, matting their grey fur.

Guy scooped up some of the rapidly cooling jizz with their thick fingers and brought it up to their mouth, suckling the sweet/salty cum happily.

"Trés magnifique!" *********************************************************************** The long white candles had burned down to little more than stubs and bright, shimmering sunlight slanted in through the openings between the boards covering the windows. Gary opened his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms luxuriously over his head. He was about to settle back in and go back to sleep, but his eyes crashed back open and he jolted upright as the realization that he actually COULD do those things hit him full force. He didn't remember falling asleep, or really even how he could fall asleep inside his own head, but apparently at some point as he lay unconscious the French badger had left him, and he felt horribly empty and alone.

"Mr.. Blaireau," he called out questioningly, pulling his cloths back on, shivering in the October coolness streaming in through any number of broken windows.

He couldn't see the badger in his incorporeal form of course, yet the badger was there, watching him, wanting to speak to him, to touch him, but it just wasn't possible. He watched as the cute, chunky young raccoon scooped up his backpack and looked around the room one last time.

"I don't know if you can hear me or not Mr.. Blaireau, but I'll try to come back when I can."

With that, he left the decrepit mansion and walked forth into the bright morning.