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Do Take a Seat

A Story by Mooserider

When Aaron awoke to the sunlight streaming through his dorm room window, there was a moment of peace as the warm beams caressed the soft black fur of his snout. Shifting about his bed groggily, the humid, warm air that had been trapped beneath his covers wafted out, filling his nostrils with the scent of his usual morning BO. Much to his dismay, he could also smell the deep, earthy, and slightly acrid odor of his scent glands. Shit, I gotta take care of that soon, he thought absentmindedly as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. He hadn’t released them in almost a week, and they were beginning to feel uncomfortably full, the warm pressure pulsing just above his tailhole. As much as he hated expressing his glands, he knew that he couldn’t risk another “public restroom incident”. An unlocked door, a careless janitor, and a startled Aaron; that was what taught the then-18 year old skunk just how powerful his defense mechanism was. Unconventional even by his species’ standards, yes, but powerful nonetheless. Even he wasn’t entirely immune to his own scent and as he laid in bed, the musky smell wafting from below the covers, he felt his cock begin to twitch and rise. He let out a soft groan as his paw began fondling the thickening chode and fat balls between his legs. He was glad that he had gotten a dorm to himself. Even though he suspected that the university had not actually “underbooked” his hall and had instead seen “SKUNK” listed under species on his application papers, the privacy was well worth the potential discrimination. Letting out a small whimper, Aaron rubbed his thumb under his cockhead, his hips beginning to buck against his hand and into his sweaty sheets. His mind was quickly waking up, becoming more and more aware of the burning need between his leg but clouding with primal desire. His plump belly, which had only grown over his three years in college, heaved with each thrust of his hips. He was close now, sticky precum dribbling down his fist. His eyes closed, moans coming more frequently now as he held himself back, teetering on the edge. So close. His mouth hung open now, a bit of drool glistening in the warm sunlight as it dripped from his maw. Just a few more strokes and…

SHIT! Aaron’s hand jumped from his cock as he was jolted from his masturbatory bliss. The sunlight! He was supposed to be having an 8:00 meeting with Professor Richmond! What time was it? Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he pressed the power button only to be met with a black screen. Fuck! I forgot to plug it in last night!? With this realization, Aaron scrambled to the microwave perched atop his minifridge. His heart sank even further. There, illuminated in bright green numbers, was the time 8:02. “Fuck, I’m so screwed!” he wailed, rushing to his dresser. Now in a mad dash, Aaron was even more dismayed to realize that, after a week and a half of avoiding laundry day, he was out of pants. This is what you get for being such a lazy bastard, shithead!, he scolded himself, digging around in the unorganized top drawer of his dresser. Just when he was about to dig into his dirty clothes hamper, his hand hit a lump of soft fabric. Yanking out the crumpled mess, he recognized it as a pair of grey sweatpants he had purchased from a discount store freshman year. That, of course, was fifty pounds ago. But they’re sweatpants, they’re made to stretch, he thought to himself as he slammed the drawer shut. Fuck, do I even have any clean underwear?, he wondered before quickly realizing that the answer to that question was “absolutely not”. He briefly considered a shower, but that idea was immediately brushed aside in his panic. I showered last night, I’ll be fine, he told himself as he yanked the sweatpants up over his thick thighs and pillowy asscheeks, just barely being able to shove his thick, fluffy, striped tail through the provided hole. As long as I keep my pants on, it shouldn’t be a problem. “...and I’ll take care of you when I get home…” he muttered to himself as he attempted to stuff his denied and now-flaccid cock into the front of the pants, precum still drooling from its tip, coating his paw and forming a dark spot on his crotch. Shit…If anyone asks, I’ll just say it's from washing my hands…he thought to himself. Pulling on a hoodie and grabbing his backpack, Aaron ran out the door, slamming it loudly behind him as he began his sprint across campus.

He had only made it a few feet before he began to notice just how tight the sweatpants really were. Without underwear, the seam that ran down the seat of the pants wedged itself between his cheeks, tickling against his pucker in a way that made it twitch involuntarily. That twitching, in turn, made the pressure within his scent glands all the more pronounced, making them pulse and quiver. Fuck…I just gotta hold it in until I get back, he thought as he reached the main courtyard; huffing, wheezing, and sweating profusely. Taking a left, he entered the humanities complex, then, up a flight of stairs, the English wing. By the time he had reached Professor Richmond’s office door, the clock in the hall read 8:25. Aaron sighed, already knowing what awaited him on the other side of the door. Turning the knob, he opened the door and stepped inside. At the back of the room, standing behind a heavy wooden desk, was Professor Richmond. The scowling old bloodhound raised his eyebrows, checked his watch, and then looked back at Aaron. “Ah, Mr. Green, I was wondering if you would grace me with your presence. Please…do take a seat.”, he said with clear annoyance, gesturing at the leather swivel chair positioned opposite the desk. “I’m so sorry Dr. Richmond, I forgot to plug my phone in last night, and my alarm is on my phone, and my phone died so I–!” Richmond raised his hand, silencing Aaron. “I detest excuses almost as much as I detest tardiness, so would you please sit down so that we may begin.” he said sharply. Aaron simply nodded and sat. “ Now, do you have that paper you wanted me to look over?” Richmond asked. Aaron nodded, unzipped his backpack, and produced a crinkled stack of papers which Richmond quickly snatched and began reading.

As the canine read, Aaron was left in silence, awaiting the inevitable shredding of his thesis. Richmond had already produced a red pen from seemingly nowhere, with which he had already begun scribbling annotations, his forehead even more wrinkled than usual. Aaron didn’t know if he’d ever seen the man smile. Usually, if you did well on an assignment, you got a stoic “Well done…” and nod, and if you didn’t…well, you didn’t. As he turned to the next page, Richmond pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, his tweed suit jacket expanding slightly against his bulky body as he inhaled before letting out a soft huff. That didn’t sound good. Aaron fidgeted in his seat, his tight pants wedging themselves further up his crack as he squirmed, rubbing and pressing against his glands and hole. He couldn’t tell what was sweat and what was spray seeping from his overfilled glands, but what he could tell was that it was getting swampy back there. The run certainly hadn’t helped. Even if his sweatpants were containing the most dangerous scents, Aaron knew that he stunk. He could smell the sweaty odor wafting from his pits and he knew that if he could smell it, the bloodhound sitting mere feet away certainly could too. Richmond, he knew, would be far too professional to say anything while he read, but still, between his body odor and the many red scribbles he could see spread across the paper, he could feel a blush rising to his cheeks as the professor finished the last page.

Setting down his pen, Professor Richmond finally looked up at the chubby skunk across from him who was now bouncing his knee nervously and somehow sweating even more heavily than when he arrived. “Well, here are my notes…” Richmond said, passing the paper back to Aaron. “Your opening statement is strong and your arguments are proficient, but your spelling and grammar…they leave much to be desired. Also your formatting in the latter half falls flat. As stated in the initial assignment sheet you were provided, this paper was to be written in Chicago style formatting, and yet you repeatedly slip into MLA formatting, including in your citations. You’re not in high school anymore Mr. Green” he added stiffly. Still blushing, Aaron nodded. “Y-yes, sir, I’ll keep that in mind.” he stammered out. Richmond sat back in his chair, seemingly placated, and raised his eyebrows. “Now, with that out of the way, do you have any further questions?”

Aaron could feel his hole twitching and his glands throbbing. He needed to leave now or else he feared that the mega-wedgie his sweatpants were giving him would make him lose control. “No sir! That should be all! Thank you for seeing me and I once again apologize for being late!” Aaron blurted out quickly, grabbing his bag, standing, and beginning to back up towards the door. Before he could move an inch, though, his foot caught on the wheel of the swivel chair. He stumbled, arm flying outwards to maintain his balance and his papers scattering across the floor. One arm grabbed at Richmond’s desk for support, knocking over a stack of ungraded papers onto the floor where they mixed with Aaron’s in an indistinguishable pile of black, white, and red. “Son of a–!” Richmond growled as he jumped up from his seat, futilely reaching over his desk in an attempt to grasp the final papers as they fluttered to the ground. “I-I’msosorrypleasedon'tgetupI’llgetthem!!!” Aaron, now beet red, shouted, turning around and bending over to pick up the papers. _Fuck! I’m such an idiot klutz, how could I be so stupid, Dr. Richmond’s gonna hate me and I'm gonna fail this class and then—- RIIIIIIPP _. All his nervous thoughts went silent as he felt a cool breeze waft against his taint. He could feel tears welling in his eyes, the humiliation ballooning inside of him. He had ripped his pants…he had ripped his goddamn pants. This was the worst, most humiliating day of his life, and Professor Richmond was there to witness it all. And then he noticed the silence.

Professor Richmond hadn’t known what hit him. One moment, he had been scrambling to gather his papers and the next, he heard the rip. The scent was the first thing to hit him, flooding his sensitive nose and seeping into his brain; earthy, heady, and slightly acrid. Like marijuana, body odor, and damp forest leaves combined. His head felt strange, like suddenly every thought was swimming through a pool of thick molasses. An odd throbbing in his groin followed, causing him to grip the edge of the desk firmly, his tail beginning to wag uncontrollably behind him. When was the last time he had wagged his tail? Then, and only then, did he see the source of the sound. Before him, he saw his student, Mr. Green…or at least, part of him. His eyes unfocused, his entire blurry field of vision was taken up by those plump, jiggling cheeks and fluffy, striped tail raised high in the air. _Biiiiiigggg…_was the only coherent thought that managed to swim to the surface. He fought against the sticky, syrupy sludge that seemed to fill his skull, trying desperately to think of what he was going to say to the young skunk before he left…something about…deodorant…maybe? But before any thought could form completely, another blast of that scent entered his nostrils…that delicious scent. Still, he tried to regain control, to fight back and escape whatever was coming over him. He focused as hard as his brain could, and with some effort, was able to refocus his eyes. Through the clarity, he could finally see the source of the scent in crystal clear detail. Between those two, doughy, fluffy cheeks lay a glistening, black, puffy pucker. Surrounded on all sides by sweat-matted black fur, it pulsed and twitched invitingly. The throbbing in his groin grew, a wet spot growing in his tented slacks. His tail wagged harder. Richmond could feel his brain melting, his mouth salivating, and his jaw going slack as drool began to pour from his loose jowls. There was nothing left in his head but bliss and need and hunger. After years of stoicism and self control, he had lost it in a matter of seconds. He was free. His body moved thoughtlessly, muscles growing taut, contracting and he crouched slightly then sprung forward. Lunging over the desk, he planted his cold, black nose directly against Aarons anus…and inhaled.

Aaron let out a yelp as the canine’s cold nose pressed against his hole. “Oh, god no, please!” He whimpered, but it was too late. The older man had already grabbed him by the hips and pushed him to the floor, pinning him down and huffing his asshole like a common beast. Richmond snorted and snarled and whimpered shamelessly. Despite Aaron’s protestations, he couldn’t help but moan when he felt his teacher’s broad, wet tongue begin to lap at his sweaty taint. The arousal which he had cut short that morning was returning with a vengeance at the ministrations of the bloodhound’s tongue, his fat cock grinding against the office floor and leaking into the soft fabric of his sweats. Along with the arousal, though, came the incessant reminder of his pulsating scent glands, almost burning now with the need for release. “Pleeeasssee, Dr. Richmond…stop…th-unnngg-this isn't you! F-fight it-pl…please!” he whimpered with a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and burning arousal. “The…the dose of my spray that y-you’ve been exposed to…it-it’ll w-EEEE-ear off in a few hours, but if you–nngggghh–If I release, it could—” Aaron pressed his face into the office carpet, and groaned as Richmond’s tongue swiped across his hole and glands, clenching both to keep in his hypnotic odor. “It could l-AAAA-st for months, s-sir!!!” He knew wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer, the muscles around his glands throbbing as he fought the urge to just let go, to relax and release. But the warmth of that old dog’s tongue; the slobber dripping down his taint and balls; the throbbing of his own cock, tenting out the front of those damned sweatpants…he could feel his gland muscles make one last pathetic attempt to hold back their contents, not unlike the desperate twitches of a bladder before one wets themself, but the time had come. “I-I’m so sorry Sir! I c-c-can’t hold it any more!!!” Aaron screamed out, followed by blissful, sweet relief as both his glands and his cock released. A hissing sound was all he heard as Richmonds face was drenched in the yellowish fluid contained within his glands. With a direct hit of that irresistible aroma right into his sensitive olfactory nerves, Richmond went stiff, his long-neglected cock pulsing violently, then spurting load after load of viscous seed into his underwear and khakis. His grip on Aarons buttcheeks released as he rolled over onto his back, thrusting his hips into the air. The orgasm wasn’t stopping, wave after wave rolling over him. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted, his eyes rolling up in blissful pleasure. Aaron scrambled to his knees, crawling to the incapacitated man as he continued to writhe and moan. “Professor!” Aaron yelped, grabbing his broad shoulders. “Oh god, professor, I’m so sorry!” But Richmond didn’t respond. Although the orgasm seemed to finally be subsiding, the mindless expression remained; the dull eyes, the dribbling drool, and something which hadn’t graced Richmond’s face in a long while. A broad, dumb smile.

After allowing Richmond to rest for a while, Aaron helped him up to his feet, sat him in his desk chair, and went about fixing his mess as best as he could. Now entirely and blissfully obedient to Aaron’s commands, Richmond thought nothing of signing the paperwork making Aaron his TA for the remainder of the semester. Sure the signature was almost illegible and the paperwork was dotted with bits of drool that had dribbled from his loose jowls, but it would do the job. Aaron counted his blessings that Richmond had been such a smart man prior to his exposure to his pungent asshole. He seemed to at least remember his own name, a skill that the previous accidental victim lacked. Aaron was also lucky that Richmond was such a hermit; unmarried, unliked by his students and colleagues, and often shuttered up in his office. Nobody would miss him for a while. Maybe, Aaron though, I can make him a bit more…personable…while he’s like this. He was basically a sponge in this state, so why shouldn’t Aaron help him emotionally open up a bit more. It was the least he could do after…well, all that had happened. Looking over at the drooling old bloodhound who was currently rubbing the crotch of his soiled khakis, Aaron sighed. “I’ll get you back to normal as soon as possible, sir. I promise…”