The Big Bang Theory
#33 of Commissions by Gruffy
Hehhey, and welcome to the third part of my commission to Jon Sanders , who owns the plucky otter seen here, of course, but the rest is mine :) *giggle* Hope you enjoy this, it's been a great pleasure to write it, for sure!
*
Bah...weekend didn't feel like a weekend at all, it was just a big jumble of homework and a round of extra practice by Coach Kruger that left me with carpet burn on my muzzle after I took a tumble with Mick, and there was a bit of a fall...yeah...my knee hurt, too, and needed a few ice packs to take me through Sunday...and by Monday I was limping a bit, but the Coach told me to say NO EXCUSES and that was that...boohoo...
Then it was Tuesday again and back to church hall, and this time the dolls were on the door again, and I was cornered by my previous...ugh...hags to team up again...and the squirrel was soon going around, handing everyone some strange plastic sheets.
"Because we've got so many furs using the same dolls, we'll be practicing with these resuscitation guards, " Mrs. Pale explained, "these are identical to the lightweight guards you can carry in your pocket and use in any resuscitation situation to provide a safe barrier between yourself and the victim! Not only will it keep things hygienic, it will also give you confidence to act quickly and save a life!"
Hmm...I looked at the plastic thing in my paws and decided that using such a condom on some random fur's muzzle was the only way I could ever put my own muzzle to theirs, even if trying to save their life, I mean...ewww...
Oh damn...the 4H girls were giggling so much...I was surprised Mrs. Pale didn't go and tell them to shut the fuck up...she was so tough that she might just do it, but no...no...she was talking to that old coyote dude and the old coyote woman who was probably his wife or something...she didn't even go to stop the giggling from the wolf girl and the annoying otter, poised by their own doll while the otter positioned his protective sheet over the doll's muzzle.
"Hmmmm...well...there's a first time for everything," the otter grinned to his girlfriend while he mimed taking a deep breath.
"You can do it, Jon!" the girl giggled and spoke in a nauseatingly sweet voice. "You can do it!"
"Oh I'm trying, I'm trying!" the otter opened his maw wide and seemed like he was going to do it...he was going down...but then he lifted his head up, finally, and huffed. "Guh...girl doll cooties..."
"Come on, Jon, "the disgustingly cheerfully girlfriend wolf went on in that same sweet tone, "you've kissed girls before..."
The otter chuckled and smirked and winked and wagged his tail and elbowed the wolf girl.
"Well, on a dare..." the otter's tongue lolled out of his muzzle, "this is new..."
"Oh, Jonny, just imagine it's some hot guy you like..."
If I'd been blowing my own doll, I'd probably choked on the plastic sheet or something - WHAT? I glanced over towards the four furs by that other doll, where the wolf and the otter were giggling while the old couple just stared, possibly in horror.
Just...what?
"Oh don't give me ideas hun..." the otter winked.
"Do it do it do it do it..."
The otter closed his eyes and plastered his muzzle onto the strange sexless doll's, and it really liked more like a French kiss than anything else I could imagine it to be...and I was just staring...weird...weird...
...and eewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww...so..so did that mean that the otter was gay? Damn...how come I didn't pick that one up? Was my gaydar broken because of always hanging out with boneheaded pussy-hounding footballers...like me...but I hounded hairy asses...hmmm...
"REMEMBER TO USE THE ALCOHOL WIPES BETWEEN USERS, TO KEEP THINGS NICE AND HYGIENIC!"
I dunno, it made me feel a bit weird, all night, and I was glad that my roommate was out doing whatever nasty he did with his girlfriend, which meant that I could settle onto my bed, whip it out, put on some...adult entertainment...and did what all boys and possibly some girls do when they feel horny.
*
"ARE YOU STUPID AS WELL AS LAZY, CARUTHERS?"
Yep...business as usual at the football practice...we'd been doing maneuvers all afternoon, and everyone was sweaty and tired, myself included, and my knee was barely holding up...but the German Shepherd didn't seem to realize any of that.
"No, just a bit slow today."
"A BIT SLOW! YOU MISSED ALMOST HALF OF THE BALLS!"
"I know my right side's a bit slow because of my knee but - "
"SO CATCH THEM WITH YOUR LEFT SIDE!"
"Uh..."
"Oh, I can't take any more of this today," the dog groaned, "TEAM DISMISSED! NEXT PRACTICE TOMORROW AT 2 PM!"
How nice...practice, then that first aid course again...it'd be almost eight pm before I'd get back to my dorm and I'd still have to do all the homework...if I'd manage to do much today...maybe I'd be doing alright...maybe...or...
"CARUTHERS! WAIT A MOMENT!"
Right...I walked over to the Sheppie while everyone else left the field.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Got something for you to do, Caruthers."
Oh, God.
"What is it, coach?"
"The main hallway under the rafters is really messy because there's mud everywhere," the Sheppie told me in a low grunt, "get the mop and clean it all up."
"Uh...why?"
"What do you think, Caruthers, because you're most talented with a mop?"
Noooooooooooooope.
"I dunno."
He slapped my shoulder.
"Know less, do more!" he moaned, "do it before that Mister Collier gets to complain more, I can't stand shrill-faced pansies."
He stormed off the field then, leaving me to curse and kick the turf and generally feel like shit. Guess I had no choice, either...he was going to get so pissed if he learned I hadn't done what he told me to do...maybe it wouldn't be so bad...but once I got there, I immediately saw that it was bad enough. There were muddy pawmarks everywhere...ugh...it was really the perfect punishment, all told.
"Shit..."
I knew where the closet was...I'd been put to do something like this before...many times...I'd misbehaved more than once, you know, I'm a bad boy...so at least I had the advantage of experience behind me. I took my equipment, bucket, mop, scoop, rag and there I was, still wearing most of my pads, because I just couldn't be bothered to get out of them and do this in my nasty sweaty underwear...though bet that'd been a turn-on to someone...
"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"
Oh fuck, I jumped and slam-tackled against the wall and almost kicked the bucket down, and I did drop my mop, damn, what the fuck was that noise? It seemed to be reverberating through my brain, and I had to shake my head to try and find there it was coming from...I looked down on both ways on the corridor and heard some further noises from the right...weird...
Well, if that was some hobo trying to steal stuff here...I got a mop...and I looked like an angry bear, stalking down the corridor and heading to the direction of the noise...soon I heard cursing...and saw an open door...and out of it emerged that funny pansy otter from the course, clutching cymbals against his chest.
"Hey there!" he grinned, seeing me, standing there with a puzzled expression on my face.
"Hummm..." I muttered.
"Did I scare you or something?" the otter giggled. "Sorry, I was fetching these and I dropped them...this storage closet is a such a mess..."
"What the hell are you doing here?" I gawked.
The otter looked at me curiously and smirked, paws still holding those cymbals against his chest like some kind of weird plate armor.
"What are you doing here?" he replied. "Do you moonlight as the cleaner or something?"
I harrumphed.
"You didn't answer me!" I grunted.
"Isn't this a hint?" the toothy creature lifted his banging instruments quickly, "I'm getting these for my band buddy Martin, he needs them to practice at home."
Just what the fuck kind of practice one needed for playing those?
"So...so..." I mumbled.
"I'm in the band, yeah," the otter replied, "I play the bass drum, at the drum section, you know."
"What?"
"I saw you guys on the field last week," the otter continued as if he didn't hear me constant surprised utterances, "looked pretty good, heheh...just my kind of a game...my kind of outfits, too..."
Damn...was I blushing? I knew that I was wearing some pads and the extra tight pants and a jock and a cup...was that guy looking at my crotch or something? Did he spend time looking at footballer's butts and bodies while we pranced around on the field and they did their own little gay business on the other side of the field? Damn...that wasn't going to make anything good for the rep of the band if any of my teammates ever caught them...and I mean them, obviously the whole band was full off...
"Oh really?" I folded my arms over my chest and tried to look dangerous, even while I was still holding a mop. He retaliated by shielding himself with the cymbals, it seemed, so maybe what I did was working, at least a bit, on this punk.
"Oh, hell yeah!" the otter grinned. "Bounce bounce bounce..."
"What the fuck..."I grunted, disbelieving that the otter had the balls to talk something like that.
"Oh, don't be a spoilsport," the otter chuckled, "and besides, you missed a spot!"
"What?"
"There!" the cymbals almost fell off his arms when he moved a paw to gesture at a messy splotch of mud on the concrete floor. I glanced at it and felt my ears droop.
"Yeah..." I huffed.
"Well, I must be off!" the otter grinned. "See you tomorrow at class!"
Then he just winked and went around, shaking that little ass of his in some shorts...I tried not to look. It wasn't even my type. I liked them big and solid...well, at least big, and with a hot tail swinging over it...like, say, and I'd take this knowledge to the grave...Coach Kruger...
Sigh.
*
See you soon with some more bear fun :P