Filling a Tank
Matanky the tanuki belongs to Kohath, who drew my picture.
It was one of those days. You know the kind - you come home after a long night out, you're tired, you're sticky in various places and covered in another guy's smell.
Yeah. One of those days you come home alone.
I turned up the speakers all the way, blasting something that turned out to be a car commercial before it turned into a song I didn't recognize, but that seemed to mesh with my low mood.
I stripped out of my shorts and climbed into the shower.
He had stunk of tobacco - the cheap cigarette smell that clings to the long-term smoker, that buries itself in your nose, even after you've washed off. But even if I was stuck with the stink I could at least spare others dealing with it.
I let the water and the drumbeats wash over me.
Shampoo, and still not smelling like myself.
Shampoo again.
It was probably all I could do for now. I got out of the shower and toweled off, then brushed my teeth, because the taste still lingered.
New rule, I thought to myself. You're already a skunk. Never let anyone bang you that stinks more than you do.
I didn't bother putting anything back on. I just turned off the radio - it was apparently time for the traffic report - and rolled into bed.
Crunch went a piece of paper under my shoulder.
"What?" I said. "I just cleaned this place."
I reached under the blanket and pulled out a sheet of notebook paper.
In large letters that were unmistakably my handwriting, there was a headline with the mocking or possibly ominous subtitle:
MEMO FROM YOUR FUTURE SELF (It's one of _those_days!)
_My future self, really? _ I looked at the memo with some distress. "Yes, really," it began. I read on: "I've decided that today's the day you get to learn a new trick with the morphichron."
I leaned over and picked up the little two-sided pocket-watch from the nightstand where it lay.
"You've already learned about the 'morph' part of it; by now you should already be guessing that the 'chron' part means more than just telling the time. Actually there'll be quite a bit of traveling you can manage with this - but to start with, just hit 'Saturn' and 'taxicab' together to get moving. A friend is waiting for you at" - and then there was a long string of numbers and letters that I guessed must be coordinates.
I scanned through the array of icons on the back face of the morphichron, most of which I'd still not figured out. Saturn taxicab? It probably made sense in whatever language the magic used.
Of course I didn't hit the buttons right away. You watch a lot of TV and you start to be suspicious of such things. I immediately thought of possible dangers: was it a trap of some kind? A prank? Would I accidentally step on Hitler and thereby cause a hurricane of butterflies in China?
The more I thought about it, though, the sillier my objections sounded. I didn't actually know of any enemies that would want to impersonate me, and anyone who could forge my handwriting and knew details of the morphichron could probably damage me a lot worse directly. That, and if the note really was from me - well, I wouldn't send myself unprepared into danger, would I? And it was clearly safe enough that I could send myself a note back.
I sighed, and the smell of nicotine hit me again.
Yeah, I definitely need out of this, one way or another.
I hit 'Saturn' and 'taxicab' and entered the coordinates.
Everything around me faded to green, then to purple, and disappeared altogether.
Teleportation is supposed to be scary. They write horror stories about it: you disappear in one place and reappear in another. Is the old you dead? Is there really any continuity between the old you and the new you - are you really the same person?
I didn't even think about those questions at the time, though I have a few times since then. One thing that keeps me from really worrying, though, is that thinking minds disappear and pop into existence all the time. And traveling by morphichron feels just like that: it feels like falling asleep and waking up.
I woke up standing in front of a field of moving stars. It didn't look like a screensaver or a Star Trek display - just bright points of light in slow, complicated motion.
Well, I was clearly on a spaceship. I looked around - it was just a simple room, with a comfortable-looking red couch behind me. There was a plain door behind the couch, and on the left there was another door with a stained glass design of a green city and an inscription in Chinese below it.
I sat down and watched the stars.
I didn't even hear the doors open. I was startled out of my seat by a blond tanuki with an angry purple nose standing behind me, in a spacesuit, pointing his finger at me like it was a gun and talking in a language I didn't understand.
I put up my hands and tried to indicate my incomprehension.
His hand turned into an actual gun and he started talking again.
"I don't understand, I don't understand!" I said, still holding up my hands in what I really hoped was the universal gesture for "oh God please don't shoot me".
He touched his ear with his free paw, looked a little confused, and touched his tongue as well.
"English?" he said. "You're a long way from home, stranger. Now state your name and business."
I tried to explain myself. Even though I was still a bit flustered, it didn't take very long to convince him I wasn't a space pirate or anything - I had, if you'll notice, quite forgotten to get dressed before embarking, and while a tubby naked skunk carrying only a sheet of paper and a pocket-watch is a _kind_of threat, it's not generally a _deadly_one.
"I was told I'd find a friend here," I said. "I'm Musky."
"Tank," he said, his paw changing back to normal. "What kind of friend were you trying to find?"
I looked down, not really knowing what to say. 'Someone to get the smell of smoke out of my nose' would have been closest to the truth, but wasn't an appropriate thing to say in any conversational context I could imagine.
And then I noticed the bulge in his suit.
Well, he was definitely a tanuki. _That_bulge had been obvious to begin with, though of course when he'd literally had me at gunpoint it was the last thing on my mind.
No,this bulge was a little further north than that - just the kind of bulge a naked critter likes to see, showing that he's doing a good job.
May as well go whole hognose, I thought.
I stepped up to Tank, knelt down, and buried my muzzle in that glorious bulge of nutsack that was bigger than my head.
He put a paw on my head and pushed me away a little. "I'm sorry," I said. "Was that..."
I could see he was blushing, a sweet flush of pink around the ears.
"No," he said. "Just... I'm not around people much... I always fly alone..."
"Ah. Not much practice with another man's tackle?"
His blush deepened, and his nose actually turned magenta, glowing a little.
"Luckily I have just the thing for that," I said, opening up the morphichron and looking for one of its more familiar icons.
A few seconds later I'd tossed the morphichron on the couch and started changing. My fur colors lightened and my belly and balls grew out and hung lower. My nose turned a bright green, and I wriggled a bit as I felt the change pass through the inside of my body, organs shifting around, and then one organ in particular stiffened even further as my tail quivered with the transformation.
And then I was a perfect copy of the tanuki.
"There," I said. "I bet this is a body you know how to handle."
Tank smiled a bit and leaned in to kiss my muzzle as he wriggled out of his spacesuit. Both of our noses turned deep blue as he held the kiss, his paws stroking my sides just above the curve of my belly.
"Mmm," he said. "Allow me to return the favor."
Immediately - or at least much more quickly than I'd changed - I was face to face with the spitting image of myself.
The new-made skunk gave me a devilish grin and pounced me, rolling me onto the couch. He lay beside me, face to face with my crotch, and took my fat tanuki cock into his muzzle, wrapping his arms around my balls and squeezing them to his face.
The feel of the pressure on those big sensitive balls was amazing; I'm sure I was squirting pre into his muzzle. He definitely knew what his body wanted, all right. I leaned in under his belly and took his shaft into my muzzle.
The cock was certainly a clone of mine, but nevertheless felt a little bigger - whether because I was a lot closer to it than usual, or just because the tanuki was shorter than me, I don't know, but I buried my muzzle in that skunk crotch and suckled happily on that thickness, drinking in the wonderful scent of my own musk.
Man, you have no idea how much I'd missed that smell.
I reached up a paw and slid it under Tank's tail, knowing full well how much that hole would enjoy a good stretching. I slid in three fingers at first, easily, and was rewarded with the feel of the transformed tanuki moaning pleasurably around my cock.
I wrapped my free paw around the skunk's hips, bracing him close against me as I pulled my fingers out and then sank the whole of my paw into that well-trained hole, which took it easily.
Now, I've met one or two guys who didn't _want_to try and fist me. They said they didn't see what they'd get out of it. But let me tell you, you haven't lived till you've felt a guy's loosened asshole close around your wrist. The sheer grip of it is a pleasure in itself.
I was humping Tank's face with some force now, as the invasion of my paw in his rump was making him squeeze my balls all the harder.
Man, I wanted to cum.
Now, you probably know a sixty-nine is _really_uncomfortable after a while, at least if you're of a portly stature. Around this point I was really feeling the need to reposition myself, so I pulled my muzzle off his cock, carefully pulled my paw out from under his tail, and sat up.
"What do you--" I started.
"I really want to be fucked," he said.
Well, of course he does. It was my hole he was wearing, after all.
He got off the couch and onto his hands and knees and I joined him there, kneeling between his legs on the soft blue carpet.
I admired the familiar stripe pattern for a bit.
I buried my face in that musky tailhole and licked and suckled at it till he was dripping wet and squirming.
I made sure he was good and loose by sinking my paw in deep, holding it, and pulling out slowly.
I spat on my dick to slicken it up and I slammed it in hard.
It takes a little while to get used to fucking as a tanuki. Make sure you keep your legs apart - you've gotta watch your balls. You've got to move with them or you'll be off balance. They swing back, you pull out. On the upswing, you slam your hips against theirs just as your balls slap against the underside of your mount's belly.
That's the stuff.
I ground my dick in deep with every thrust, sliding it against the spots inside that I knew would make him moan.
And he sure moaned, all right. I recognized the uninhibitedness of a guy who'd never had to suppress the sounds of his enjoyment to hide from family or roommates.
He begged me to fuck him harder, and I did my best, though the tanuki's soft body was out of shape and I felt my legs tiring. I grabbed his hips and growled out, panting hard as I got close. "I'm gonna..." I started.
The orgasm took me by surprise, and I slumped forward as my legs gave out, covering his body with mine (or the other way around, if you want to be technical about it) as I filled the skunk's ass with my cum.
The pleasure didn't abate, either, as we lay there recovering. Those tanuki balls had a lot to offer, and I lost count of the times my dick shot inside him, flooding his gut.
After a few minutes I noticed him swelling under me as his belly rounded out. I rubbed his belly in slow circles and continued to fill him until he started to look uncomfortable, then changed back into my own shape to stop the flow of cum.
I rolled over on my side, holding him as he changed himself back. I pressed my muzzle against his shoulder and just enjoyed the smell of him as we lay there.
He smelled of cinnamon, vanilla, and skunk.