A Bear's Vacation II
Rain fell in spatters on the tent where Greg had been trying to recover his strength--the vacation had taken a lot out of him.
The chastity device had been the biggest burden, certainly; even though several loads of cum had indeed been wrested from his poor locked-up cock, it was nowhere near commensurate with the sex drive generated by the generous tanuki scrotum hanging between his legs.
The tanuki form itself had been wearing on him. In a walled-off corner of his mind he knew that when he'd started the weekend, he'd been a bear. The memory was difficult to view directly, but he deduced it from the moments of surprise he did remember--the moments when the smoke had blown over him and he'd seen himself change.
God, the smoke. His campground companion had taken over his cache of special cigars on Friday night and had been using them to change him. He'd been made to take on every form that'd appealed to Tank's fantasies, which on its own wasn't that much of a problem--their shared tastes were absolutely a factor in their friendship, after all--but the roles were too opposed to his desires: The sub. The slut. The needy little fucktoy. Greg had had to play them all.
And in a crowning display of narcissism, Greg had to undergo much of this treatment while transformed into the body of the tanuki that had taken him over.
Meanwhile, Tank had been wearing his body, that of a thickset bear. If this weekend had been in reality what it looked like from outside--himself as the big dom bear, having his way with a subby 'nook, Greg would have been content--but the reversal of the roles grated on him.
At least, it did now, now that he was able to notice, even if just barely. The tanuki body was still chiefly acting as if it had the tanuki's personality; since he'd woken up he'd been kneading those pent-up balls, trying to work a load out of a cock that wasn't allowed to get hard.
It just wasn't right.
The corner of his mind that was still Greg gathered strength and asserted itself, and the bear in the tanuki's body got up and looked out the tentflap onto the rainy campground.
Tank was not in sight, it seemed.
He slung his balls over his shoulder so they wouldn't drag in the mud and snuck like a burglar over to his own tent where the sound of Tank sleeping was apparent even over the sound of the rain.
The tanuki worked the tent zipper open a fraction, as quietly as he could, and put his eye to the opening.
Tank was there, the bear sprawled out on his sleeping bag.
And just beside him, the one thing Greg knew he needed to take control of the situation again: that little packet of his special cigars.
After a bit more quiet zipperwork, he was able to reach in deep enough to grab them, and dashed stealthily back to the other tent.
It was incredible how much Greg had missed the smoke, even though it had only been a few hours.
He sat in the tent with the cigar, letting its clouds flow over him, not just changing him back to his familiar shape--the tanuki body would've known how to do that--but restoring his mind as well: his full memories, his personality, and his need to teach Tank a lesson.
There in the mouth of the tent, the restored bear contemplated the rain and just exactly how the trickster should get his comeuppance.
But first, there was time enough to enjoy his cigar.
Tank woke later in the morning, after the rain had already come to an end. Greg watched him emerge from the tent and stop short on seeing his double sitting in the opening of the other tent, casually drawing from a cigar.
"I guess the jig is up?"
Greg exhaled a jet of smoke at the disguised tanuki, exposing his original form. "Yep."
The bear watched Tank start to shift even further as his smoke imposed its changes on him.
He would get the chastity cage, of course. The gleam of metal appeared through the clouds of tobacco, encasing the tanuki's dick in a seamless sheath that would be harder to remove than the member it imprisoned.
Greg moved closer as leather cuffs appeared, binding the tanuki's hands and feet. "Think you've got a taste of your own medicine coming, son," he said. "Remember that last drink you gave me? It's about time for you to take it back."
He dragged the tanuki back to the campfire where the little chairs were and pulled him down to his knees as he took a seat, resting his feetpaws on Tank's hefty scrotum.
The pressure made him whine a little, so Greg gave him another blast of smoke, watching in satisfaction as a leather collar and harness banded across Tank's body, with a leash leading up to the bear's paw. He gave it a tug, pulling the tanuki's nose forward into his crotch.
Another breath of smoke.
"I want to hear you beg for it, though."
The tanuki whined again.
Greg unzipped leather pants and fished out his thickness, resting its pierced tip on Tank's nose.
Tank whimpered more pitifully.
"No," the bear said. "You're going to have to beg like you really want it. Let me hear how much you want my piss."
Tank looked up at him, eyes pleading--and got another jet of smoke aimed at his face.
And suddenly it didn't seem right to hold back anymore.
He nuzzled under that thick shaft, inhaling deeply the bear's musk and smoke, and murmured in a dreamy tone: "Please, sir... I did you wrong, taking control as I did... I have to make it up to you..."
"Get on with it, boy."
"Please make me take your p--rk!"
Greg didn't let him finish, the bear grabbing his head and pulling it roughly onto his cock. The tanuki didn't struggle, but he did cough a bit when the bitter stream started only a couple of seconds later.
That was no good, Greg thought. Toys should always be ready.
He pulled the Tank closer so there was no possibility of spitting it out--the bear's mostly-hard shaft stretched his throat so he wouldn't even have to swallow.
Tank's eyes teared up as the pierced cock blocking his airway filled his stomach. The first taste of it lingered on his tongue and the unmistakable scent of a bear's piss made his member strain against the cage that held it.
The bear went on for a good long time, enjoying the tanuki's subjugation. With the aid of the cigar, of course, he could have filled the Tank indefinitely, but he let up on him when the poor boy's bloated stomach started to gurgle in protest.
"There now, that's much better," he said, pulling out. "Thank me, boy."
The tanuki let out a long, low belch instead. "Excuse me... Sorry... Thank you, sir." He made a face like he was going to be sick, but the bear gripped him between his thighs and made him breathe in more of his musk, more of his smoke--quickly building up the tolerance in him that usually takes a sub months of practice.
Greg leaned back, enjoying the last of his cigar for its own sake as the bound tanuki started nuzzling and slurping at his balls. Couldn't have him enjoying that too much...
...though maybe a few minutes would be all right.
When he started trying to take that shaft into his mouth again, Greg stopped him, holding his head back. "That's too much of a reward for you, boy," he said. "I'm gettin' off on my terms."
He stood up and moved behind him, bending Tank forward over his balls. The bound tanuki's scrotum was sturdy enough to handle their weight without damaging him too much.
And if it hurt, he could always shapeshift them into something sturdier.
Greg looked over Tank's rump, growling low as he made the realization. He could shapeshift easily out of any of the bonds that held him. Not only was his submission an act, the tanuki was still actively making a toy of him, manipulating him into taking charge and acting out the tanuki's deeper fantasy. Did he think it was okay just because he wasn't directly controlling his body anymore?
Fucker.
The bear got on his knees and started toying with Tank's hole, stuffing two and three fingers in as he worked him open. Just as he'd thought, the shapeshifter had enough control of himself to keep his hole slick and supple, even without adding any lubrication.
And he likes to be roughed up, does he... Fuckin's too good for him.
He pulled his fingers out and aimed his whole paw at Tank's rump. Well, you asked for it.
With the first hard slap across his hindquarters, the tanuki yelped out, slumping forward. "Ow!"
Another spank. "Told you, boy. You don't get a reward for trying to use me." The whack of his paw making contact was loud despite the furriness of Tank's rump and the background noise of the forest.
The heavy smack was repeated and echoed through the trees till Tank was whimpering out what pleas for forgiveness he could muster and his ass was hot from the abuse.
Greg spanked him till he thought he'd learned his lesson, then gave him half a dozen more for good measure.
He was tempted to unload in the defeated tanuki, but there was no way he'd undermine that hard-learned lesson for a bit of pleasure.
He was in charge. He could wait.
He left the tanuki on the ground and went back to his tent to enjoy another cigar.