Stuffing the Turkey
"James, could you help Frosty with dinner prep while we're out shopping?"
"Uh huh, sure," the white raccoon muttered, his tail flicking as he tapped furiously on his keyboard, distracted with a computer game.
The white fox frowned and shook his head, grabbing James's computer chair and pulling it away from the desk. The raccoon's paws scrambled to maintain their hold on the mouse and keyboard as an explosion of gunfire rang out from the speakers. The monitor went red, the words "YOU ARE DEAD" fading onto the screen.
"Dad! You got me killed," he huffed noisily, snatching his cane as he rose to his feet.
"You spend too much time playing computer games as it is. Get your fuzzy butt in the kitchen and help Frosty, otherwise I'll feed you to Andrei."
James grumbled at the threat, jabbing Surge's stomach with his cane. "How come you're making me help your bitch?"
"Because the last time I sent you out grocery shopping, you came home with candy and industrial chemicals. You still haven't told me where you got those."
The raccoon's black tongue poked out at Surge. "I never kiss and tell."
The fox shook his head, pointing at the bedroom door. "Go. Andrei and I should be back in an hour or so."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll help him," James grumbled, hobbling toward the kitchen.
"And I'd better not come home to find Frosty tied to the bed again!" Surge called after him.
"He likes it," James shot back, ducking into the kitchen before the fox could retaliate.
Frosty's ears perked as he caught the latter portions of the conversation, blushing softly. He returned to thumbing through the pages of a cookbook, a large turkey resting on the counter in front of him, waiting to be prepared. He idly sipped at a can of soda, setting it on the counter. He pretended to be oblivious to the exchange as the coon hobbled into the kitchen, stopping next to Frosty. The cheetah grinned as he glanced over at James.
"Cock."
"Fuck you!" James shot back immediately, his Scottish accent surfacing fully.
The cheetah stuck his tongue out at the disgruntled raccoon, chuckling as he found a recipe that he liked. He hummed to himself, giggling still at James's outburst.
"Dad's making me help 'ya, so tell me what I need 'ta do, slut."
Frosty smirked, glancing over at James. "You're not going to slip anything into the food, right? We don't want anyone suddenly sprouting extra limbs at the dinner table."
A cackle escaped James's lips, his cane flicking over to jab at Frosty's lower body, which had the build of a feral cat, rather than the expected legs. James had affectionately dubbed him "cheetaur" as a result of his experiment.
"Nuh, I'm not gonna do anything," James snickered. "Dad would have me in timeout for weeks."
"That didn't stop you last year. You nearly gave poor Andrei a heart attack when he was suddenly shorter than everyone in the room."
James snorted at this. "That was meant for you, 'ya know."
The cheetah's head shook at the open admission. "Do something useful with your knowledge, for once. Terrorizing everyone isn't gonna get you anywhere."
"So you say," James chuckled, sneaking a paw into his pocket as Frosty leaned over to browse through the spice rack.
The albino raccoon silently removed the cap from a clear vial, the liquid inside completely colorless. He waited until he was sure Frosty's back was turned, leaning over and dumping part of the vial's contents into the cheetah's soda. It fizzed lightly before settling as he recapped the small container, slipping it back into his pocket. The cheetah seemed none the wiser as he continued to poke through the small glass vials of spices, nodding silently.
Frosty returned his attention to James, who had a knowing smirk plastered to his face. He quirked an eyebrow at the coon, shaking his head lightly. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face. I don't know what you're thinking, but it's probably not good."
The cheetah's paw slipped down to pluck his soda from the counter. James watched with interest as the cheetah brought the can to his lips, tipping a mouthful of it back before swallowing. Frosty made a face as he set the can on the counter again, licking his lips.
"Ugh, flat soda," he muttered, unaware that James had slipped anything into his drink.
A giggle from the white raccoon drew Frosty's attention. "What're you laughing about?" He paused a moment, before shaking his head again. "Actually, never mind. I don't want to know."
"So, are we gonna do something, or just stand here and yap?" James asked.
A tingle ran of the cheetah's back that made him shiver. He considered everything that needed to be done, but most notable was the raw turkey sitting on the counter.
"Well, we need to make the stuffing for the turkey and get that baking. Otherwise, we won't be eating tonight."
James chuckled, his tail slowly flicking back and forth as he watched the cheetah with interest. The solution that he'd poured into Frosty's drink was fast-acting, so the cheetah would begin showing signs soon enough.
Frosty retrieved a pot from the cupboard and placed it on the stove, offering James a stick of butter. "Start melting this, and let me know when it's ready."
The raccoon played innocent, nudging a stepstool over to the stove so he could reach it easily. He kept an eye on the butter as it began to melt, but most of his attention was directed at Frosty, who was fanning himself now. His face was flushed, his breaths growing noticeably heavier.
"Damn, did Surge turn the furnace up again? It's getting hot in here," Frosty said quietly.
James giggled quietly, his focus turning briefly to the stove as the butter sizzled and popped. He turned the stove off, finding the cheetah's discomfort much more entertaining. Frosty was still fanning himself, but he was beginning to lightly shift from one side to the other, his feet curling and kneading against the kitchen floor.
The feline was having trouble concentrating as he tried to focus on the recipe. His mind kept wandering as an unusual heat spread over his body. He tried desperately to keep himself cool, but it was proving to be impossible. He eventually shed his shirt, flinging it into the hallway. He stretched with a relieved sigh at the slight drop in temperature, but it didn't seem to help much in the end.
"Something wrong, spottybutt?" James asked, glancing over his shoulder at Frosty. He pretended to be tending to the melting better.
"I'm fine. It's just really hot," Frosty muttered, shifting uncomfortably.
The raccoon giggled, stepping down from his stool to sneak up behind Frosty. "You sure you're not coming down with something?"
Frosty shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at James. "I feel fine...ish."
Two paws dipped down as James leaned forward, sneaking them beneath Frosty's hindquarters. The cheetah's legs almost buckled beneath him when the raccoon's paws firmly squeezed his sheath, which was already rather perky. Frosty clutched the edge of the counter to catch himself, his legs wobbling as he glared at James.
"What the hell?"
James's fingers squeezed and groped over the cheetah's sheath, a smug grin spreading over his lips. "You sure you're feeling okay? You seem a little tense."
"Knock it off, James, we have cooking to do," Frosty grumbled, trying to ignoring the growing arousal as the raccoon's paws kneaded over a growing shaft.
"Well, tell me what needs to be done?" James inquired innocently.
"We need to finish making the stuffing so we can stuff the turkey and put it in the oven."
The raccoon giggled, giving Frosty's growing pink shaft a firm squeeze. "You're supposed to be the one getting stuffed, not doing the stuffing."
The overwhelming sexual urges were burning bright in the cheetah's mind now. With the raccoon's lewd taunt, his determination to focus crumbled. He pushed himself away from the counter and flipped around in a flash, knocking James off balance. The raccoon's arms waved franticly in the air as he fell back, landing on his rump on the kitchen floor and dropping his cane. The cheetah was immediately on him, pinning the raccoon's shoulders down with large forepaws.
"Oi, what gives?" James demanded, trying to push the cheetah's paws off.
Frosty grinned, gazing down at the trapped raccoon. "I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of doing the stuffing. You should know firsthand."
James huffed at the taunt, trying to wiggle free of the cat's grasp. Despite his best attempt to act tough, however, he couldn't help but blush at the latter statement. "Sh-shut up."
A giggle escaped the cheetah's lips at the defeated reply, a paw tucking beneath the raccoon's body to flip him onto his belly. James shrieked as he ended up on his stomach on the kitchen floor, immediately pushing himself up on his elbows. The cheetah's paws gripped the coon's hips, tugging at his pajamas. The cotton pants slid down easily, exposing the boy's bare rump. James perked at this, gazing back at the cheetah.
"Hey, wait a second. What are you doing?"
Frosty grinned. "Oh, it's just something that I call 'stuffing the turkey.' I'm sure you're familiar, one way or another."
James tried to pull himself away, but his attempt was halted when the cheetah's forepaws returned to his shoulders. He was pushed down against the cool floor, his rump exposed to the excited cheetah. Frosty's hind legs crouched down, presenting a dripping, throbbing shaft. His body wanted nothing more than to get sexual relief now, and Frosty knew exactly how to get it. The raccoon still attempted to scramble away, bunching his pajamas farther down his thighs in the process.
The cheetah grinned as he watched James squirm, lowering his hips until his length rested comfortably against the raccoon's rump. The raccoon froze immediately when he felt the heated erection against his backside, a deep blush spreading over his face. His only real purpose for slipping Frosty the potent aphrodisiac was to watch the cheetah squirm. He hadn't expected things to end up like this.
Frosty's hips ground back and forth over the raccoon's soft white rump, smearing the dripping pre through his fur. He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the stove as he adjusted the lower half of his body. The tip of his throbbing length tucked beneath the raccoon's tail, nestling into the fuzzy cheeks.
"C-come on, Frosty, we have stuff to do," James said quietly. Despite his verbal protest, though, the raccoon's tail flicked upward.
"Oh, I most definitely have something to do," the spotted cat grinned. "And you're at the top of that list right now."
James opened his mouth to protest, but an unexpected push from the cat's hips cut him off. The only thing that escaped his lips was a startled squeak as the dripping shaft squeezed in. The raccoon's body tensed up, squeezing tightly around the cheetah's length as Frosty pushed deeper, growling with lust. Frosty was so riled that he felt like he could burst at any moment. James, on the other hand, knew that he was in for a rough ride.
The cat's body continued to drive forward until his hips met the raccoon's trembling frame, grinding firmly against James's soft rump to ensure that he was hilted in the warm passage. The raccoon's paws scratched uselessly over the kitchen floor, his body pinned and helpless beneath the tauric frame. He gasped each time Frosty's hips pushed against his rump, grinding the tip of the cat's shaft against sensitive flesh.
Frosty eventually drew his hips back, drawing his length most of the way out of the snug rump before he slammed forward again, making James cry out. The raccoon's body clenched as he pushed in, urging him to continue. His paws clutched tightly over the coon's shoulders, preventing James from sliding forward as the cheetah began to steadily rock his hips back and forth. The thrusts were spaced apart for now, but each push inward was abrupt.
Knowing that he was victim to his own prank, James eventually submitted to the cheetah's lust. He eased his arms back, wrapping them gently around the cat's spotted forelimbs and hugging them. The cat's firm thrusts were pushing that thick length deep into the raccoon's bowels, sending shivers of pleasure up James's back. The raccoon's back arched, willingly offering the cat a better angle to drive into his bowels. He wasn't going to openly admit that he was enjoying the thought of the tauric cheetah plowing him, but the erect black length between his legs spoke for itself.
The cat's pace picked up when the angle changed, threatening to push James flat against the floor. The raccoon had to focus to keep his rump up, beginning to grind his hips against Frosty's thrusts. Soft groans of pleasure escaped his lips each time that throbbing pink spire buried itself in his backside. A firm squeeze from the cheetah's forelimbs reminded James of Frosty's unusual build, giving the impression that he was being stuffed by a lust driven animal. The dominant growling and rough thrusts only reinforced this image.
The cheetah's mind was hazed with the effects of James's potent drug. Only one thing stood out in the forefront of Frosty's consciousness: getting himself off. Stuffing himself into the raccoon's warm rump and fucking him senseless was the only thing that mattered just then. Instinct was driving his lewd actions, turning the cheetah into little more than a sex-crazed beast.
Frosty's paws gripped tightly at the raccoon's torso, a deep growl rising from his throat as his hips began to rapidly pound into the boy's backside. Lewd slurps accompanied each thrust as he stuffed his throbbing shaft deep inside, the feline growing desperate to reach his peak. He was working himself into a frenzy of sexual desire, that tight flesh kneading and squeezing over his member. Something was holding him back, though, depriving him the orgasm that he sought.
The raccoon's potent mixture had been deliberately designed to deprive his target of their orgasm for as long as physically possible. How long that would be, James had no idea. He was certain that at the current pace, he would likely experience one before the Frosty did. The cat's angled thrusts were driving his shaft into some of the raccoon's most sensitive areas, making him squirm and whimper beneath the spotted feline. Spurts of slick pre-cum squirted from James's ebony length each time the cheetah's shaft stretched his bowels, decorating the floor with droplets of slickness.
Mutual groans of passion filled the kitchen as the cheetah's pace continued, his body radiating with heat from pent up sexual desire. His thrusts drove into the raccoon's body with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine, making it almost impossible for James to control himself. He was having difficulty matching Frosty's pace, and his crippled leg was beginning to ache from the exertion. He could feel the pleasure building in his body, though, distracting him from the soreness.
James began to pant, his heart racing in his chest from the sexual thrill. He squeezed the cat's legs, clutching them tightly in his fingers as his orgasm drew near. Each heated push into his body nudged him closer to his peak, his hips erratically pushing back against the cheetah's thrusts. The coon's rump squeezed over the feline's length, signaling his peak as the rest of his body tensed. James's head ducked, his ears pinned flat as a lewd groan of pleasure filled the kitchen.
A thick splatter of creamy spunk graced the kitchen floor, staining the surface with ropes of raccoon seed. The intense sensation of climax was enhanced by the spotted feline's continuous pounding, sending James into a fit of passion. He panted heavily as his hips rocked, his body shaking uncontrollably. His black member throbbed with each burst of warm seed, emptying James's load onto the floor.
Despite the coon's orgasm beginning to wind down, Frosty didn't let up. If anything, the sudden clench around his shaft prompted him to pound harder into the raccoon's bowels. The increased motion was almost too much for James's small frame, the raccoon already feeling quite over-stimulated. He nearly blacked out, his head dipping down for a moment. James closed his eyes tightly and took a deep, albeit shaky breath. He wasn't able to hold it long, however, as the cat's pace forced another deep groan from his throat.
"F-Frosty...stop," James panted, despite knowing that his appeal would fall on deaf ears.
Frosty didn't relent on the poor raccoon as he drove his shaft into the tense bowels again and again. He was growing increasingly frustrated as time passed, his body seeming deprived of the one thing he was seeking. A growl rose from the cheetah's muzzle as he put every ounce of strength he could muster into pounding the squirming raccoon. With his body threatening to give out at any moment, he was either going to reach the climax he was after, or pass out trying.
The cat's persistence paid off when the raccoon's rump squeezed over his length again, sending a burst of pleasure up the cheetah's length. He rammed repeatedly into James's body, feeling a familiar pressure building in his groin. He focused on finishing his deed, ignoring his body's protests. His muscled burned, but he blocked it out to concentrate on the pleasure between his legs. Another clench over his shaft pushed the feline closer to the point of no return.
Frosty did his best to maintain the animalistic pace as he raced to his peak, his heart pounding. A satisfied growl rang out as he felt his climax quickly approaching, shortening his thrusts in exchange for speed. The raccoon's whimpers joined the cheetah's heavy panting and passionate groans as Frosty pushed himself quickly to a plateau of sexual frenzy. His throbbing length flared inside of the raccoon's body, the soft barbs near the cheetah's tip becoming unusually stiff. James cried out as he felt them tugging at his sensitive insides. Fortunately, the cheetah's exhausted body settled as a warm flood of seed rushed into the raccoon's bowels.
A relieved sigh escaped James's lips, still panting as his body wound down. He gasped each time Frosty's hips shifted, the flared spines digging into his fleshy walls. He was grateful that it was over, feeling the cat's heated load continuing to fill his body. The cheetah's paws gently kneaded over his shoulders and back, grinding his hips forward to ensure that he was fully nestled in the coon's rump. His limbs shook, threatening to collapse under him from the exertion.
Frosty carefully eased down on James's body, ensuring that he didn't rest the full weight of his body on the raccoon. He eased his forelimbs beneath the boy's chest then rolled onto his side, pulling James into a warm embrace. The coon cuddled into the cheetah's heated body, feeling the cat's deep chest rising and falling against him. Even as they cuddled and relaxed in the warm afterglow, James could feel the cat's shaft pulsing. He hadn't noticed yet, but his belly was showing a subtle roundness to it that hadn't been there earlier.
Frosty sighed blissfully as he stretched out on the kitchen floor with James, giving the white raccoon a firm hug. He kept his length nestled in the coon's rump for now, a paw idly reaching down to trace his fingers over James's soft white belly. The raccoon squirmed at the soft touch, swatting the cheetah's paw away. His belly was normally somewhat ticklish, but especially so after sex. Frosty giggled softly at the reaction, but he didn't tease James.
The cheetah slowly drew his hips back after several minutes, his softening length easing free with a lewd slurp. A trickle of musky seed leaked from James's rump once the cat's length was pulled out. James knew that he would be sore later, but it was worth it. He turned his head to nuzzle the cat's forelimb, his tail flicking against Frosty's waist. A soft giggle snapped James from his daze, lifting his head to gaze up at the cheetah.
"What's so funny?" he asked softly.
"Oh, just had an amusing thought. You know what happens to Thanksgiving turkeys after they get stuffed, right?"
"Uh..." James was pretty sure he didn't want to hear the cheetah's answer. Several ideas went through his mind, and none of them were good.
Frosty reached down, wrapping his arms around James's waist. He managed to pin the raccoon's arms down as he lifted him up to his slender torso, hugging him close. James wiggled in Frosty's arms, trying to pry himself loose. He didn't like where things were going, and had a pretty good idea of what was going through the cheetah's head.
A shiver ran up James's back when he felt Frosty's lips slip over one of his ears. He tried to duck down, but a soft bite around the base of his ear kept his head up. He squirmed against the cheetah, hoping that Frosty was only teasing him. The cheetah didn't relent, however. Frosty's lips parted, the warm jaws nibbling down over the crown of the coon's head. James's ears pressed flat against his head when the cheetah's tongue licked over his soft fur.
The raccoon's vision was obscured when Frosty's jaws lunged over him, wedging his head into the cat's maw. Strings of slick drool dripped over his face, a soft slurp matting the raccoon's fur. He whined to Frosty, hoping the cat would let him go, but he seemed determined to follow through. The cheetah's arms squeezed tightly around him as a gulp rippled over James's head, securing his shoulders in the slick maw.
Frosty's paws kneaded and squeezed over James's back as he tugged the boy toward his slickened jaws. A satisfying swallow tucked the raccoon's head the rest of the way into his throat, forcing the cheetah to hunch over the boy. Frosty let out a muffled grunt as his rough tongue scraped over the raccoon's shirt. As much as he disliked the taste of fabric, he knew that James would've slipped away had he tried to remove it.
James wiggled and pushed his feet against the cat's body, trying to deter the cheetah from continuing. With his body facing away from Frosty's torso, however, he didn't have much to push against. He could only squirm helplessly as another deep gulp dragged his shoulders into the cat's hot gullet.
With his jaws creeping farther over James's torso, Frosty released his grip on the boy's torso. He lowered his paws to James's bare hips, giving them a playful grope. The soft squeeze made James whine in protest, but there was little he could do about it. Having a bit of difficultly maintaining his posture, Frosty straightened his body out, scooting James over the floor to make swallowing easier. The coon's legs scrambled over the smooth floor, but there wasn't anything for him to push against.
Frosty slowed James's descent for a moment, his throat gently caressing the boy deeper as he reached down. He tugged at the waist of the raccoon's pajamas, wiggling them down the white thighs. They snagged for a moment on the leg brace that was hidden beneath, but a moment of careful maneuvering worked them free. Frosty tossed the raccoon's pajamas into the hallway as he gulped, letting his jaws creep down the coon's soft white belly.
The cheetah's paws carefully pulled apart the Velcro straps that held the brace snug, making James's leg kick in protest. He didn't like it when anyone fiddled with his leg brace. Frosty waited for him to calm, gently easing the raccoon's torso deeper into his gullet. The soft kneading coaxed James into relaxing, allowing the cheetah to finish undoing his brace. He carefully removed it and set it aside, knowing James would probably murder him if he damaged it.
With the raccoon's pajamas and leg brace out of the way, Frosty was able to continue his meal unhindered. A lewd slurp accompanied a ripple of motion, the raccoon's hips disappearing into Frosty's jaws. James had calmed down and accepted his fate now, letting the cheetah have his way. There was little that he could do to hinder his descent into the cat's slick throat, so he figured he might as well enjoy it. His toes curled lightly as another gulp worked him deeper, his hips forming a shapely bulge in the cheetah's stretched pelt.
James winced and whimpered as Frosty's jaws worked down his thighs. The cheetah was careful not to disturb the crippled leg, keeping his torso as straight as possible to ensure that the small raccoon slid in smoothly. With the majority of the raccoon's small body tucked away, the cat's gullet did most of the work on its own. Frosty reached down to tease James's paws, making the boy erupt in a fit of laughter, accompanied by erratic kicking. Fearing that James might injure himself in the process, though, Frosty immediately stopped.
The cheetah's tongue curled out as gentle swallows pulled the raccoon's paws to his lips. He eased his rough tongue around the coon's feet, licking anywhere he could reach. The lapping made James giggle and squirm in the rippling gullet, but he couldn't escape it. He could only hope that the cat wouldn't dwell on his feet any longer than necessary. Frosty grinned around James's feet, tempted to tease the boy, but he swallowed firmly to ease them into his throat with the rest of his catch.
The raccoon squirmed as his body was slid down the unusually long tunnel, surprised that his head hadn't encountered the feline's belly yet. His entire body was being kneaded progressively along the slick passage, working deeper into the feline's unusual frame. James made a mental note to study Frosty's anatomy a little more thoroughly once he was let out.
The cheetah's paws kneaded over the bulges that the raccoon's body made as they slipped between his forelimbs. James was finally introduced to the fleshy, sour-smelling pouch deep in the cat's body. He wrinkled his muzzle at the scent, his body slipping quickly inside as he felt the cat's body squeezing and shifting around him. He wiggled to help himself into the fleshy chamber, finding it surprisingly roomy inside. It was much more accommodating than he was used to experiencing.
Frosty made his way to James's bedroom, knowing that he'd get hell from Surge if the raccoon was harmed. James wiggled as he felt himself bouncing with the cheetah's steps, curled up somewhat comfortably in the feline's stomach. He pushed against the walls as the stench of caustic stomach fluids persisted, hoping that Frosty would remember his collection of concoctions. While he didn't appreciate the thought of Frosty poking through his bedroom, the alternative was less than pleasant.
The cheetah poked around the raccoon's room until he found a stash of glass vials with variously colored contents, each labeled with a basic indication of function. He was tempted to swipe a few, though he was fairly certain James would notice. He found the one he was looking for soon enough: a pinkish fluid, that when opened smelled distinctly of strawberry. He tipped the contacts into his mouth and swallowed, licking his lips afterward. The contents would ensure that James's stay in his stomach was safe from digestion.
A sigh of relief escaped the raccoon's muzzle when the familiar scent of strawberries hit his nose. He couldn't see in the darkness of the cheetah's gut, but he could feel the cool liquid seeping into his fur. He wiggled around in the slimy surroundings, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible, but also thoroughly coating himself in the substance. He hoped he would be let out soon enough, but knew that if Surge had any say in it, he might be in there for a while.
Frosty grinned as he bent down, rubbing a paw over his bloated tauric belly. He squeezed the raccoon inside, feeling James squirm back at him.
"THAT is what we do after we've stuffed the turkey," he mused, returning to the kitchen to tidy up before he resumed preparing food...