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I'm a skunk. In a modern world that shouldn't mean anything, but there's still a lot of prejudice left over and you find it in the most surprising places.

Today it started while I was crossing the food court at the mall. A little foxgirl held her nose as I walked by, and her mother, sitting right by her, did nothing to teach her manners as she shouted "Peww!" into a mouthful of chicken nuggets.

You lose faith in people sometimes. And of course no one who hasn't had that happen to them before would think twice about it.

I picked up a megasmoothie from one of the counters and decided to take it outside. It was dim and gray outside, but it didn't look like it was going to rain; I sat on a bench and drank my frosty beverage down as I watched people go by.

They don't look twice, of course.

Some pointedly don't even bother to look once.

I tossed my empty cup in the nearest bin and started walking back towards my car. As I fished in my pockets for my keys, I heard a voice behind me: "Hey little skunky, want some candy?"

I turned to see a chubby red kangaroo hanging on the window of a white van with no rear windows. "Mattock."

"Musky."

"A rape van, really?"

"'Do you find something _comical_about my appearance when I'm driving my automobile?'"

"Mattock."

"Hush," he said, and then actually held a strong-smelling cloth to my face until I passed out.

I came to, hogtied and gagged and laid out on my belly in the dark, a thick liquid being splashed in my face. The taste as it ran down into my mouth, soaking the gag, was unmistakable.

Tomato sauce.

Honestly.

There was light, and I looked up to see--not Mattock--but a tall, well-built lion with a familiar and incredibly unwelcome logo dyed into his chestfur.

And there were a handful of other felines in a loose half-circle around him, in dark hoods that concealed everything but their protruding muzzles.

Cat supremacists.

Honestly.

The lion kicked me over with his foot and stared me down, as a spotted muzzle in a dark robe threw more tomato sauce across my belly.

"You understand why you're here, of course."

(Of course I didn't. But there wouldn't have been giving any answer to the manehead even if I wanted to.)

"Submission. A stinkass like yourself should know his place, serving at the feet of the superior race." He smirked.

I felt a little sick.

There was a familiar whisper at my ear, and though I couldn't turn to be sure who was speaking, the message was very clearly "the safeword is 'iocane powder'."

The lion's smirk got a little wider.

Honestly.

I was ungagged and made to sit up on my knees - a pretty uncomfortable position, at my weight - and the lion, the only one in the crowd that was unrobed, slithered out of his shorts in a way that would have been ungraceful in any other sort of creature, but somehow managed to be incredibly erotic, because he was a cat.

And then he stepped up to me and slapped his barbed cock on my muzzle and commanded me: "Serve."

It was only about three inches long, because he was a cat. It was, of course, the prudent course of action not to remark on it.

I took the little beast into my mouth and began to suck on it diligently.

I didn't have to pretend to like it, because, well, I always do enjoy a mouthful of cock, even the fun-size ones.

The lion grabbed my head in his paws and started thrusting into me, or at least as much as he could, so I held my head in place and started running my tongue over it as he growled insults at me, calling me a cocksucking stinkweasel, a stain on the word 'polecat', and various other silly staples of feline rhetoric, which I tuned out so completely that I almost missed him yelling out "Take it, fartstripe" as he shot several volleys of thick cum across my tongue.

His flavor was kind of bitter, but rather than do anything to incite punishments I made sure to swallow it down and started sucking his dick clean.

Then I noticed he was still firmly holding my head to his cock.

The stream of urine started before I could react, and my eyes watered as I struggled to gulp it down. I was no stranger to a mouthful of piss in friendlier circumstances, but I could certainly have appreciated better warning, at the very least to do something to get the taste of tomato out of my mouth first.

But I swallowed his bitter piss hard, and focused hard on not getting sick - and though I did gag a couple of times, I didn't spill anything, and finally he pushed me away and turned to leave.

I watched him go, and wondered what to do next.

The ropes binding me were starting to get uncomfortable, and I started to try to struggle out of them when the robe with the spotted muzzle in it stepped forward and put its paw on my head. "You're not done yet," he said.

The robe parted and I was presented with a thicker but still rather short feline cock. "Get to work," he said.

He didn't bother insulting me, as the lion had, but he did start pissing into my muzzle without warning as well, his tangy taste washing out the lion's bitterness as it washed over my tongue and teeth and was swallowed down my throat. His dick softened a little as he pissed, but as soon as he was done I started suckling hard on it again, bringing it up to its full three and a half inch length. He moaned softly as I worked him over, and it wasn't long before I was rewarded with five shots of slightly watery cum, which quickly joined the rest of the fluids in my belly.

The spottycat pulled his dick free as soon as he was finished shooting and closed up his robe, disappearing into the light coming from the door.

The next robe to approach was unmistakably a tiger, and he stood in front of me, apparently appraising me. "You think you've been getting off easy, because my compatriots have, let's say, less than challenging equipment. Trust me, it only gets worse from here. Do you believe in the superiority of the feline race?"

I didn't think I could make the lie sound convincing, so I said nothing.

The tiger slapped my face - not hard enough to actually hurt through a layer of fur, but enough to know worse could come. A warning shot, you might say.

"Answer."

"I... believe in the superiority of the feline race?"

"Liar."

The tiger pulled open his robe.

This tiger was not hung like a tiger.

This tiger was hung like a horse.

This tiger was not _metaphorically_hung like a horse.

This tiger was clearly not from a cat supremacist family.

Two feet of horsecock that must have been waiting in the wings dampening his neck with pre fell forward from the tiger hybrid's robe and landed hard on my shoulder.

You know how a guy can tell he has a thick cock by seeing if it can fit into a toilet paper roll?

This guy had to be wider than the full roll altogether.

Now don't get me wrong, I was impressed. But even a confirmed size queen like me knows what it'd take to get put in the hospital, and this fellow had it.

"Now say it." he said.

I was so distracted by the thick meat drooling over my shoulder that I didn't understand what he meant.

He slapped me again, a little harder this time. "Well?"

Oh, right.

I lowered my head - with some awkwardness, as I didn't want to let that weapon out of my sight.

"I believe in your superiority," I said. I couldn't have said anything truer.

The tiger smirked. "And how do you plan to serve?"

If I could have broken my jaw on that cock without actually breaking my jaw, I would have.

If I could have had my ass torn apart by that cock without actually tearing my ass apart, I would have.

I'm sure he could see the gears turning in my head. "That's right," he said.

He nodded to the two remaining robed figures, who stepped forward and picked me up together, one at my feet and one at my shoulders--the latter of which was Mattock.

"Get ready for a wild ride," Mattock said in my ear.

The tiger held his dick out straight, and my muzzle was pressed against that massive urethral opening.

I realized, too late, that it would come out like a firehose, but fortunately for me it didn't take any conscious intervention to swallow the piss that shot from that horsecock; it blasted down my throat all by itself, bloating my stomach out round.

And the flow didn't stop. He couldn't possibly have gallons inside him, he just wasn't that big, but that's what it felt like was flooding me, stretching the flesh of my belly as I swelled further and further, the two furs holding me struggling to keep up with the increasing weight of a skunk being overfilled with piss.

The front of my shorts burst open as my gut swelled, and still the stream of urine filled me.

It felt like minutes before the flow began to taper off, and I finally got to savor it properly; in comparison to its force, its flavor was rather mild. I'm sure it would have been clear, if anyone had gotten to see it.

Mattock reached out to rub the side of my ballooned-out stomach, and I felt the massive load of piss sloshing inside me. "You think this is something... even with all this, he'll still be able to take you."

Take me?

And they pushed my muzzle harder against the opening of the tiger hybrid's cock, and my snout sunk into the musky recesses of his interior.

I want to say I tried to struggle, but I knew that would be ridiculous. I was still tied up pretty tightly, and I'm sure I wouldn't be able to waddle away at any decent speed with as full as I was.

They had crammed me into the tight, piss-slickened passage up to my shoulders before I thought of the safeword, though given how firm a grip the tiger's urethra had on my muzzle, I wouldn't have been able to vocalize anything if I tried.

I could only hope there wasn't any malice on his part, or I could be stuck for a long time.

I felt the curve of my bloated gut pushing against the tiger's meatus, and couldn't imagine how I would manage to fit, despite Mattock's reassurance. But it was only a moment before a flood of precum flowed past, surrounding me, and I could feel it slicken my fur down, and inch by inch the tiger's cock stretched wider and wider around my gut as I slipped further in.

I felt my shorts being ripped off - they wouldn't be able to just pull them off, the way my feet were tied - and briefly felt a mouth on my cock before it, too, was engulfed by the massive horsecock.

And then my head was pressing against the base of his penis, being forced into his pelvis. I felt the bones stretch to make room for me, and as my feet and thighs cleared the entrance to the tiger's cock, I was pulled in all at once, impossibly sliding through tiny ducts and vasa that were never made to support the weight or bulk of a piss-bloated skunk, until I slid back out again and landed somewhere inside the tiger's scrotum.

I could feel him totter off-balance with the shifting of the weight, my body swinging from inside his stretched testicle.

What air there was that came in with me didn't last me long, and I was losing consciousness just as I felt another body drop into the testicle beside me - Mattock, surely.

_Serves him right,_I thought, and passed out.