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Six Steps To A New Me

I used to be normal. Well... maybe not normal, normal is boring and I always tried not to be boring. But I used to be a regular guy. A regular, albeit slightly horny guy.

It wouldn't be at all uncommon to find me hanging out in a bar or club, chatting with people I knew from previous visits, but not actually bound to hanging out with any particular person or group. After all, I'm not a douchebag. I wouldn't go out with friends, only to ditch them if the opportunity came up for me to get laid. And, let's face it. I was pretty damn cute. If I went out wanting to get laid, I was getting laid.

One of the last nights I spent out on the pull as my normal cacomistle self, I managed to reel in this amazing coyote. He had salt and pepper fur, but not due to age. I think he must have been just out of college; young but not too young, still enthusiastic and eager, but with a little bit of experience to temper those hormones or let them loose as required. We met at the bar. I was talking to a woman who seemed to be here for the same reason I was. Looking for a date; the kind of date that involved lots of bedsheets and very little smalltalk. I think the coyote must have overheard us talking as we scanned the club's dancefloor together, pointing out prospective targets and giggling as we joked about how we'd both go about seducing various individuals. He was standing close by ordering his drink, but when the drink was placed in his hand, he handed it back to the bartender and said to give it to someone else.

Instead he turned, placed a hand on my shoulder, and still looking at the bartender made such an arrogant statement, uttered with complete certainty, that I couldn't help but admire him.

"I'm not gonna have time to drink it. Being fucked by this guy looks like it's gonna be an all night job."

And y'know what? He was right.

We didn't even make it out of the club before our first rendezvous. Don't get me wrong, it's not that kind of club, where sleazy hookups go on all the time. But... it's a part of the scene. At least it's a part of this particular club's scene. If someone was found in the bathroom snorting coke or popping pills, they'd crack down on them in an instant. But there's kinda this unspoken rule with management. Keep the drugs out... refuse to buy any that do make their way in and report those who are selling them, and the drinks stay cheap, and the security stays out of the way of anyone who wants to enjoy a more natural kind of high.

In one of the small rooms on the way to the cloakroom, I found myself on my knees between the coyote's legs. Peeling down his dark trousers to find not a scrap of underwear, and nuzzling tenderly at his already stiffened cock. I adore canine cocks. The shape. The pointy tip that's so perfect for teasing and licking. And of course, the knot. I wasted little time in wrapping my muzzle around him, and placing both my hands upon the base of his shaft. Rubbing and teasing at that already slightly bulbous collection of nerves, causing it to rapidly swell and causing him to cry out in overwhelmed pleasure. Clearly he'd never had anyone but himself focus so intensely on his knot. Poor guy... he had no idea what he was in for when he picked me up.

I got what I wanted in less than five minutes. A taster of thing to come. The coyote yelped happily, and I felt his cock straining and slapping up against the roof of my muzzle as he began to cum. Hot waves of his slightly sweet, tangy cum poured over my tongue and down my throat, and I gurgled greedily as I swallowed every drop.

He was dazed afterwards. Grinning goofily as I led him by the hand out of the club and into a cab. Thankfully most of the cabbies who stop in the rank outside the club know what kind of place it is. As a result, only the more open minded drivers tend to park up there with any regularity. The way they see it, if they're gonna be transporting tipsy clubbers home from midnight to four in the morning for casual sex, what difference does it make whether they're two guys, a guy and a girl, two girls, or any other combination you can think of!

I tipped well as we left the cab, our equine driver nodding and wishing me happy humping with a wry grin. I assured him there would be, and led my blushing coyote companion into the apartment block that I called home.

Less than ten minutes and one freshly opened bottle of my favourite lube later, I was buried to the hilt in the coyote's gorgeously firm ass. Face to face, missionary style, I ploughed him; not shying away from the intimate contact of allowing our eyes to linger on one another, willingly accepting his whimpered pleas for affection, licking and kissing at his cute, blushing face. It's amazing how quickly someone's personality can change once you wring a load of cum out of them. Technically speaking, he was the aggressor when we first met. He propositioned me, not the other way around. But now... poor pup. Between what I did to him in the club and my ridged, pierced cock buried inside his ass then, he looked at me like I was the second coming.

"Ohgodohgodohgod..."

His voice slurred and trembled as I pounded him. I was pretty fit, even back then, and while I was shaking and breathing heavily myself from the sensation of his tight rear wrapped around my shaft, it didn't take much effort at all for me to keep up a rather fevered pace. He never said anything, he was too far gone for more than curses and frantic moans at that point, but I knew I was the largest he'd ever taken. Not to be immodest, but I don't have to exaggerate when I tell people how big I am. Most of the time, I never have to tell them at all. My crotch tends to do the talking for itself, and when people see it... well, I've never had anyone complain thus far.

I dragged the length of my cock across his prostate over and over again, feeling his own shaft throb and twitch desperately between us as his cries grew louder and more delirious with pleasure. Our eyes were locked together now. So fixated upon one another, it was like I was trying to draw him into myself. To make us one. In those few minutes of heated passion, we were closer than any two people on the entire planet.

Have you ever heard a man scream? Not yell. Not cry out. Not yelp or howl. Properly, ear-splittingly scream. Well... I have. That's what he did when he came. When he saw my eyes roll back into my head, heard my own desperate grunts, and felt the hot stickiness of my own cum lashing out within his back passage. He totally lost it. He screamed like the pleasure was going to kill him; like another second of orgasmic ecstasy might actually stop his heart mid-beat. He thrashed and bucked and flailed upon my bed with such force, I had to throw my whole weight down upon him just to keep him from bouncing us both clean off the bed and onto the floor.

Afterwards, at least after the first round, he looked at me with a mixture of adoration and almost fearfully intense lust. He took my hands in his, and with a voice cracked with emotion, begged me to fuck him just like that again as soon as I was able.

That was probably the first night where I ever felt truly powerful in my position as a lover. Not just talented, but downright special. Like I could outmatch and outfuck anyone, man or woman.

***************

It was perhaps a week or two later when the changes started.

I'd been particularly horny almost non-stop since the night I'd spent with the coyote. Seeking out lovers whenever I could, calling up people in my little black book and inviting them back for a booty call or five. No matter how many times I came though, no matter how many asses I fucked or how many cocks shot their load deep inside me, it never seemed to be enough. Every morning I awoke with a raging hard-on, and if my chosen lover from the night before hadn't slept over, I had no choice but to attend to it on my own. There were days when I'd wake up early, setting my alarm for six or even five in the morning, just so I could spend hours jerking off. Rubbing and squeezing furiously at my pale blue cock, humping up at the paws wrapped around it, shooting load after load; staining myself and my bedsheets with thick streaks of cum.

One morning in particular however, I awoke to find myself particularly needy. There was an odd, unfamiliar ache centred around my crotch. The obvious pangs of arousal, but not accompanied simply by the twitching and hungry throbbing of my erection.

I reached down, not to my cock but beyond. I cupped and squeezed at my balls, wondering if perhaps they were the source of the strange, erotically charged sensation. They weren't. I reached around underneath myself and ran a finger across the pucker of my asshole. It wasn't that, either. The feeling, the sensation that was driving me crazy with desire, was coming from somewhere between the two. Between my balls and my rear.

I don't know how I knew, but in that moment, there was only one possibility that crossed my mind.

Whimpering softly to myself, I pulled my body out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. I drew a bath. Deep and hot with plenty of bubbles, and while it ran I returned to my bedroom, delving into my closet and picking out one of my favourite toys. A long, thick dildo in the form of a dragon's cock. Ridged, hefty and perfect for hitting all those sweet spots.

I slipped into the tub, and slipped the toy down between my legs.

Not to my ass though, not where it would normally go. But a little higher, into that spot between my rear and my balls that was tingling and aching so pleadingly for attention, despite the fact I knew there shouldn't be anything present at that location to give any attention.

A giddy, overwhelmingly excited groan escaped me as I pushed the toy against myself, and felt it sliding between slightly swollen, plump folds of flesh. Sliding into something that felt like... well, exactly what it was. I don't know how I knew what it was supposed to feel like, I guess it's a little silly to debate the finer points of a supernatural event, but even in those first few seconds of contact I was certain of what I was feeling.

I braced myself as I pushed the toy into my pussy. Not knowing what to expect; to await the pain that I knew could greet a virgin on their first time, or the pleasure that only a woman can understand by being filled.

With my legs hooked up over the sides of the tub, and my body leaning back so that my head was just above the foaming, steamy water, I arched my back and moaned in delight as the dildo rubbed along my inner walls and sent waves of pleasure surging through me. It felt good. No. Not good. It felt absolutely incredible.

My cock stood proud but untouched, sticking straight up out of the water as I continued to pleasure my brand new pussy. I slid the toy deeper and deeper, until I felt its moulded base brush the base of my balls and knew it could go no further. For a short while I just lay there, holding the toy inside me, eyes closed and mind focused on the sensation of being so full. My depths clutched and quivered around the dildo, as though seeking to milk it and draw out the cum it was incapable of producing, but which my body so desperately seemed to need.

After just five or six minutes lying like this, I couldn't bear it any longer. I had to act, and the hand upon the base of the toy began to work it in and out of myself. The fingers of my other hand fell down close by, and sought out what I knew should be waiting for me at the uppermost limits of my now broadly spread slit. Sure enough, it took just a few seconds of running my fingers over that soft flesh to find what I was looking for. A stiff little nub of protruding flesh, that when touched directly sent an electrical jolt of ecstasy crashing over my unprepared senses. My pussy clenched violently around the length of the toy buried within it, and I watched as my cock twitched urgently, a single ribbon of sticky pre-cum arcing out into the air and splashing down into the bathwater a second or so later.

Within the span of just a few more minutes, my peaceful bathtub exploration had turned into a frothing ocean storm. My body bucking and jerking so violently that waves of water were splashing over the sides of the tub and onto the floor beyond. I still hadn't laid a single finger upon my cock, yet still it was straining and drooling like I'd been edging it for hours with constant, focused masturbatory stimulation. At the same time though, much as I could feel the craving for release emanating from my member, it was nothing compared to the need my newer anatomy had for a deep, satisfying orgasm.

I would have been quicker, should have been quicker to make myself cum, but the female genitalia aren't my usual playground. I'm a fast learner though, so when finally that orgasm struck me, it was one for the record books. I tweaked my clitoris just a second before the first wave of climactic ecstasy struck me, sending one final, violent spasm of bliss crashing through my brand new pussy and causing it to squeeze tightly around the toy I was still thrusting fiercely into myself with my remaining free hand.

I'm surprised my neighbours didn't complain that night. They've done so before, when me and a lover have gotten overly... enthusiastic in our orgasmic cries. But either they weren't home to hear me, or when they did come up to hammer on the door, I was still too zoned out to answer. My howls of pleasure were still ringing in my ears some fifteen minutes after the orgasm was done. My body lying limp in what remained of the bathwater, the bubbly liquid mixed with my own juices from two separate, equally pleasure-driven sources.

Needless to say, I didn't leave the house much for the next few days. I knew eventually I'd return to the scene to which I was accustomed; to finding new lovers and introducing them to my body, all of it. But I wanted to get to know myself first. To understand and appreciate the new me, and all the pleasures I had to offer myself.

I think maybe it was that self-focus, that inwardly turned affection, which hastened along the next changes. Firstly the reshaping of my body. Each morning I'd awaken to find myself less toned and more curved than before. More feminine, though by no means ladylike in attitude. I grew no breasts, but my rows of nipples did become more sensitive to the touch. My hands and my feet shrank slightly, growing softer and more delicate. And even my face, such a handsome feature of my body already, took on a new, more gender ambiguous appearance. With my hair growing thicker and longer, if I dressed right and walked right, I could easily pass as a tomboyish girl every bit as easily as a feminine guy.

I wasn't afraid of these changes though, strange and unexplained as they were. If anything, I was excited by them. Sexually, of course, but more generally as well. Excited by the opportunities they would provide, and the fun that could be had seizing those chances with both paws.

I knew that when I returned to the club in search of a new lover, I'd have a whole new set of tricks up my sleeve. Whoever was going to share my bed next would have to have the stamina of twenty guys, if indeed they were to endure all the ideas I wanted to try out.

***************

To say the month that followed was fun would have been an understatement bigger than saying that the Sahara desert has a few grains of sand in it.

I'm not gonna lie, I got kind of greedy after I began to play around with my second set of genitalia; making sure that as overactive as my libido had become, I still challenged its limits each and every day. It may not sound particularly healthy to say that my life began to revolve around sex, and maybe it wasn't. But it's true. I sought out lovers day after day, and after a few weeks as word of my unique situation began to spread, they sought out me.

There finally came the day when I met someone else like me. They'd heard about me, and on one of the few nights where I was not particularly focused on getting laid, having just stopped in at one of my favourite bars on the way back from seeing a movie, they made their move.

When I looked at the otter, and couldn't tell whether he was actually a he or not, I already suspected that there was something special about him. By the time we got back to his place, and we threw ourselves down upon his bed together, I was certain of it.

Some people say that gay people have the best sex, because they truly understand how their own gender's body works. I was never sure if I believed that or not, as it seemed rather unfeeling towards anyone who did prefer the company of another gender. But that night, I began to wonder if there was truth in the general principle behind the comment after all. The otter and me, we had the time of our lives. Taking turns pleasuring one or both of our sexual organs at once. I sucked on him as my fingers buried themselves in his tight pussy, and he jacked me off as his tongue delved into my feminine depths. By the time we were done with one another for the night, and fell, panting and gasping, into an affectionately cuddling heap together, I wasn't sure what ached more from overuse; my cock, or my clit.

We slept together for maybe a couple of hours, I'm not exactly sure what time it was when we stopped fucking and started sleeping. Regardless, when I woke up again it was still dark; just approaching three in the morning. I sat bolt upright in the bed with a gasp, and before I knew what was happening, I was cumming. I could see my tented cock pressing up against the bedsheets, a growing wet patch forming upon them as I pumped load after load of cum into the cotton fabric. I reached down between my legs, shuddering and blushing with embarrassment; clutching at the top of my cock as though I could stop the flow of cum. Between my legs I could feel my pussy dripping and convulsing in its own orgasmic bliss, but the focus of the pleasure was clearly centred upon my male genitalia.

My desperate moans awoke my otter bedfellow before long, but as he turned his bedside lamp on and saw what was happening, he wasn't annoyed, or even surprised. In fact, he just giggled.

Throwing the covers off me, my partner for the night peeled my hands away from the throbbing length of my shaft and watched, wide eyed and grinning, as thick spurts of my seed sprayed up into the air. He looked from my swollen, violently straining cock to my wide eyed, reddened face, and smirked knowingly.

"You're a horny one, aren't you..."

It wasn't a question. Wasn't just a light-hearted remark either. It was a fact.

Without another word, he pushed me back down to the bed, reached down between my legs, and drove three fingers sharply into my pussy. My back arched. My muzzle flew open in a cry of shock and ecstasy, and before my eyes my cock began to swell and grow. With each throbbing pulse of pleasure and every fresh eruption of cum, it thickened and grew in length by at least an inch. I could feel my balls growing with it, heavier and fuller with every passing moment. I could feel more and more hot, rich cum sloshing around inside me, and see it pouring out in ever greater quantities. No longer was I just staining the bedsheets and my belly with my cum, but my chest too. Then my own whimpering, wailing face. Then the pillows around me, the headboard above me, and finally the wall and ceiling of the otter's bedroom itself.

I don't know how long it lasted. I was only semi-conscious for most of it, the pleasure too intense and the sight of my own cum dripping from practically every surface in the bedroom too overwhelming for my brain to handle at the time. All I know is, I was still cumming when my otter companion drew back the curtains to reveal morning sunlight shining over the glistening, white stained room. I was still cumming as he helped me to stand, instructing me to hold my cock against my torso; cuddling it like a body pillow. By this point it was long enough that I could bend my head and kiss its tip, not that I risked doing so for fear of drowning in my own cum. It was proportionally as thick as ever, and yet I found no issue in bearing its weight, nor in supporting such a massive cock when surely the blood-flow required to sustain it should have rendered me instantly unconscious.

The otter led me to his shower, stepped inside with me, and kissed me.

He apologised, and just as I was about to ask him why... the first sane, sober words I'd been able to utter for hour, he turned the cold water on full.

I understand that it was necessary to snap me out of my lust induced, seemingly endless orgasm. I know he was doing the right thing, and I'll eternally be grateful for his help. But... damn, that water was cold.

An hour or so later, we sat in his car. A towel lying over my lap, where my flaccid cock and mammoth balls were curled up like a sizeable Labrador sitting on a beanbag chair. I was too dazed, too stunned by the knowledge of what I was packing beneath that towel to ask where we were going. But the answer soon became clear.

A mall.

But no mall I'd ever seen, and one populated by people equally unlike any I was accustomed to.

It's funny, the kind of places that exist in the world that you don't even think about, don't consider acknowledging, until you're a part of the world they inhabit.

This mall was... well, it was supernatural. The shops sold the exact same stuff as any mall; clothes, food, electronics, but all with an unnatural twist. The food shops had shelves full of bottles labelled with things like 'Shrinking Soda', or 'Hypno-Hibiscus Tea'. The electronics stores proudly displayed bizarre yet enticing devices for sex in the window; like an 'Omni-Ring that promised eternal orgasm denial until the correct sequence was keyed in to release it. And in the window of the clothes store that my guide led me to, a sign proclaiming 'Tailor-made Clothes to discretely fit any form or figure.'

The fitting process I could spend a day telling you about on its own. Never mind the payment that was requested of me in exchange for refitting my entire wardrobe. But safe to say, by the time I'd settled my bill I was very glad of the tailor's services. I could feel my cock throbbing, desperately hard, though thankfully not erupting into spontaneous orgasm quite yet. Yet as hard and as huge as it was, when I looked down all I saw in my trousers was an average sized tent. No sign of the vast orbs of my testicles, nor the several feet of erection I knew lay within the enchanted fabric.

I spent the rest of the day wandering that mall with my otter guide to this strange new world, and when he bid me farewell, I stayed on for a few more hours before catching a ride back home with one of the shop owners. That night, they stayed at my place, and they promised that in the morning they'd take me back to the mall to get some magical bedsheets, so I didn't have to spend days trying to clean the cum stains out of my mattress. Again, the payment they asked for confused me. I didn't know what Blue Cherry Schnapps tasted like, or how I was supposed to get hold of some. But when I asked, just like in the tailor's store, all I received was a knowing smile.

***************

It was around this point, with a whole new community to share my life and my experiences with, that I began to understand what was happening to me. The changes taking place within me, I learned, were directly related to my desires and longings developing themselves. I wanted to experience new kinds of pleasure, so I took on the characteristics of a second gender. With that doubled dose of pleasure available to me, I became hungrier and hungrier for sex; no real aim other than making my pleasure last longer, and feel better. Bigger and better. So I grew. My cock grew, and would remain that way until I learned to better control and focus my longings.

I'd like to tell you it didn't take me long to do that. That within a week or two I was ready to take the next step. But in truth, much of my sexual escapades for the next few months were spent alone in the shower. Massaging my vast cock under the flow of far more pleasant warm water, and losing myself in orgasms that lasted for hours, and could have filled swimming pools with their sheer volume had their not been a drain close at hand to dispose of all my rich, potent cum.

Eventually of course, I did change. I found myself yearning for companionship once more. Missing the feeling of a lover to cuddle up with at night, someone who could kiss you back and hold you in return. There were only so many morning you could wake up cuddling your own cock, holding it and kissing it to a face full of warm, sticky delight, before you began to feel a little lonely.

Thus, the next change began. I awoke one morning to find that my cock was smaller. Still huge, but smaller than it had been, which was a definite plus. The following day it was smaller still, and the day after that, even smaller. It still must have been at least a foot and a half in length when erect, but its girth had reduced massively, and when soft it made very little impact at all, at least not compared to my still vast, cum-filled balls.

I was thrilled. At last, my cock was small enough that I could use it again. Use it to be with someone else; and not just someone who understood and shared some strangeness in their own sexuality.

I went out to my favourite club. The club where all this had started, come to think of it. I picked up a wonderfully twinky, stretchy looking fox boy, and promised him the biggest cock he'd ever taken.

Ten short minutes later we were positioned in the back seat of my car, my new foxy friend drizzling my erection with a bottle of lube I'd taken to keeping in the glove compartment. He crawled atop my cock, his trousers hooked down around his ankles, and whimpered happily as he started to settle down upon the tip of my still sizeable erection.

"Y-yes..."

His moans started out fairly normal. But after a few minutes, as I felt my hot pre-cum oozing out into him, a strange look crossed his face. An expression of pure lust, glazed and fixated. He began to ride me harder, faster. His cries grew more wild, pleading and desperate.

"Oh... oh god. Yes! Yes. D-do it. Make me... a-ahh... make me yours, Razz!"

I'd heard the phrase used in sex before, but here it seemed oddly specific. Like he wasn't using those words to ask me to claim him or own him in any metaphorical or emotional sense. As though he was literally asking me to take everything that he was. I didn't know what he meant. I didn't understand the implication, but with his tight vulpine ass wrapped around the first six or seven inches of my cock and his pleading face licking and smooching tenderly at mine, I wasn't in much of a state to argue.

The fox's pleas grew more urgent as he began to ride me with ever more intense focus and determination. He yelped and howled as he bounced upon my cock, practically knocking his head into the roof several times in his zeal to make me cum. God only knows how it must have looked to anyone walking past the car, I'm sure the suspension was being given the road-test of a lifetime. I couldn't hear the squeaking of the car bouncing around though, those sounds drowned out completely by my lover's wails of delight and desire.

I was almost more relieved than exited when my own orgasm struck. Glad that at last my lover had what he wanted, and that now perhaps he would calm down a little bit. I grunted and clutched at his body tenderly as I felt myself letting loose, my hefty balls pumping a still far greater than average load out into the fox's needy rear.

" Ha-ahhhhhhhh, g-god! Yes. Yesssssssss!"

The fox squealed and slurred drunkenly as he began to cum as well, his own rigid eight inches twitching and lashing the front of my shirt with hot ropes of seed. Together we rode out our shared peak, staring deep into one another's eyes, feeding on one another's ecstasy. Our bodies trembled and writhed in delight, our muzzles howling in unison, our hearts beating at the same frantic pace. Our minds thinking the same thoughts. Merging, one single entity born of pure pleasure.

I didn't know what was happening, but by then the pleasure was too strong; the orgasm tearing through us too powerful for either one of us to think clearly. All I could do was hold onto him as I watched his body beginning to fade. To simply cease to be, as though it was being drawn into mine. Into my cock. He was still crying out in joyous rapture. Still begging me for more. To make him a part of me, even as I did so. I could feel my cock taking his essence. His spirit. I could feel his life becoming my life. Not taken away, but born anew as an entity of pure, focused pleasure.

Soon I wasn't cumming into the fox any longer. I was simply cumming, my own seed now lashing across my shirt and the underside of my muzzle. The fox's head was all that remained; shrunken and infused with the head of my cock, its length temporarily coloured like that of the former vulpine's body, but rapidly returning to its normal pale blue hue. As I watched myself cum, the face of the fox wide eyed and opened mouthed with mindless euphoria, I saw my shaft beginning to move. Not to twitch or strain in any new way, but to bend and twist whilst still remaining fully erect. Its tip turned upwards as I cried out in pleasure, responding to the sound of my voice and launching the next burst of cum square into my face.

By the time I'd opened my eyes again, wiping the cum off my cheeks with one trembling hand, the fox's face was gone from my spurting shaft. In its place, the smooth, uniquely curved head of a reptile; most likely a snake. Its open mouth was still flowing freely with cum just as the fox's had before, but no longer did it bear the eyes and other features of the vulpine male. Its skin was smooth and pale blue, and where the glans of my cock had formally been positioned, there was an almost dragon-like crest of smooth, but scale-textured flesh.

The fox was gone.

I sank back into the rear seat of my car a few minutes later, trembling and spent, staring at the snake-headed shaft drifting back and forth through the air in front of me, like a cobra being charmed by a flute. I didn't know whether to laugh, to cry, or to be afraid of what appeared to be my now living, sentient shaft. I could feel its thoughts. Not hear them, for they weren't words per se. But it had urges. Requests and demands of its own that had nothing to do with what I was thinking.

It hungered. The morsel of the fox had been enough to bring it into being, but if it was to start work, it would need more food. Much more.

I didn't know what it meant by food. Nor what the work it was supposed to do could possibly be.

But... I wanted to trust it.

To believe it when it told me that the fox was glad to be where he was. A part of me. Of us. To believe it when it told me that everything would be okay, and that from this point onward, only good, pleasurable things would be coming my way.

I blushed, reaching out tentatively and stroking the snake-like head of my living erection. It opened its mouth, but rather than hissing in pleasure, it drooled what must have been pre-cum. I say must have been, because at the time it didn't look like it. It was sparkling almost with its own radiance, and was coloured the same pale blue as the flesh of my cock itself.

On impulse, I reached out, swiped up a little of the substance upon one fingertip, and brought it to my lips.

I tasted it, and my eyes widened.

It was strong. Alcoholic, almost, in its kick. It was sweet, and... familiar, somehow. Like marzipan, but not. Almost... almost like...

My already wide eyes bulged, and in sheer amazement, I burst out laughing.

It tasted like cherry. Blue cherry.

***************

The very next day I found myself back at the mall. That mall. Part of me didn't know what I was doing there, and another part of me wanted to run very far away and forget I'd ever known about this place. I suppose in a way I was succumbing to what a lot of guys supposedly do. Thinking with my cock.

I made my way back to the tailor, who greeted me with a hug so tight I could feel the badger's cock pressing up against my leg; stiff, much like my own.

If he was already happy to see me, he must have been enraptured when I told him I thought that I was ready to pay my bill. He shook me violently by the hand, and with a veritable skip in his step led me out of his store and deeper into the mall complex. We stopped a few minutes later outside an empty storefront, and from his pocket the tailor produced a key. He handed me the key, and gestured for me to open the locked door.

Nervous, uncertain of what I'd find, I did as I was asked. At this point, I was relying so much on the wisdom of others there seemed very little point in asking why.

Inside was what looked like a liquor store. Except rather than being filled with bottles of varying sizes and content, every shelf contained empty glass bottles; spotlessly clean, clearly brand new. The badger gestured for me to enter, and he followed me in. We walked around the store's interior briefly, before heading behind the counter and through a small doorway which led into a storeroom.

In that room, there were boxes. Hundreds of boxes, many of which seemed to contain yet more empty jars and bottles. I knew this because some of them were empty, and one in particular was mid-way through being unpacked.

Despite everything I'd been through in the last few months, I still blushed when I saw the figure doing the unpacking. The white furred rabbit was naked, and very much aroused. His pink cock was trembling where it stood proudly out before him, and upon the smooth vinyl floor I could see glistening droplets of pre-cum marking where he'd been walking.

For about twenty seconds, the rabbit seemed not to notice us. He finished unpacking the last of the glassware, only to move the large box in which it had been waiting to one side; revealing some sort of machinery that had been hidden on the far side of the room by the stacks of cardboard. Only then did he turn, thankfully without any of the glass in his hands, and jumped sharply as he saw us standing there by the doorway.

"O-oh... oh my..."

His eyes only lingered on the tailor for a second, before fixating upon me. He smiled, the same devoted, lustful smile I'd seen on the fox's face the previous day. He looked so happy. So content, and with every passing moment his joy shone brighter and brighter.

The rabbit was giggling as he undressed me. He was whimpering, giddy tears of delight shining in the corners of his eyes as he touched my snake-headed cock, and moaning loudly, his cock throbbing and shooting in a premature orgasm as he opened his muzzle and kissed my cock, its own serpentine mouth opening wide to welcome his tongue.

With the tailor watching all the while, I began to feed. I didn't know how to do it, but my cock did. It burrowed its way into the rabbit's ass, the snowy furred bunny shrieking and wailing in orgasm after orgasm, back to back without the slightest amount of recovery time. It wriggled and squirmed, carrying the rabbit to ever greater heights of ecstasy whilst bringing itself and me equally intense bliss. Before long my own cries rivalled those of my lapine lover, and I could feel my cum gushing out into the rabbit's innards.

I closed my eyes tightly as I felt myself flooding into the rabbit, and felt him flooding back into me. I focused so very hard on his thoughts, his feelings. I wanted to make sure that he wasn't afraid. Wasn't unhappy with what was happening to him.

In all my life, I swear to you, I've never known anyone feel as happy as someone I'm about to feed upon. I don't know if fate brings them to me, or if my presence simply brings certain people that total feeling of relief and relaxation. But whatever the reason... they're happy.

With the rabbit a part of me now, his lust and excitement and eagerness to pleasure flowing through me, I turned to the tailor with a burst of uncontrollably giddy laughter. I winked, and asked if he'd hold out a jar for me.

My snake-tipped shaft wormed and slid its way forward, placing its head upon the rim of the jar as I began to rub and stroke the length of its body. Again my eyes fell closed, and I lost myself in the sensation of masturbation. I was so content. So full, my recent meal having filled me up in a way that traditional food no longer could. All that remained was dessert. And what better, sweeter a treat, than making myself cum.

Gasping and grunting in pure elation, I felt myself filling the jar. My hot cum pouring into the glass receptacle and filling it not just to the brim, but till it overflowed. Thick streams of my seed flooded down the sides of the glass jar and over the tailor's hands. He didn't mind, though. If anything, from the twitching I saw within his trousers, he very much enjoyed the messiness of my performance.

I was still hard, and still incredibly horny when I came down from my orgasm. So much so I almost started up again straight away, forcing myself to wait only for the badger's sake. He had his own business to run, after all, and probably wanted to conclude things with me before I indulged my own monstrous libido any further.

The tailor walked over to the stack of unpacked items which the rabbit had been working on, and secured the jar of my sparkling, blueish cum with a lid. He held it out for me, and I frowned in confusion.

"I... I thought that was your payment?"

The badger's eyes widened, and he snorted with laughter.

"A whole jar?! Razz... my payment is a taste."

He raised his hands, still wet with the overflow of my orgasmic mess.

"This is... it's more than I ever hoped. I'd have to sell half my store's stock, even the back room speciality items, to afford a jar that size."

Raising one of his hands to his lips, the tailor licked at his fingertips. His eyes bulged, and with a soft whimper he dropped to his hands and knees. I saw his tufted tail twitching, and his hips bucking involuntarily. There was no doubt about it, he had just cum. A single taste of my own seed, and he'd been seized by what looked like an immeasurably powerful orgasm.

Sure enough, when he finally recovered he looked back up at me and spoke with breathless wonder.

"Y-you're a lucky... lucky man, Razz. And before long, I'm guessing you're gonna be a rich man, too."

***************

With half of that first jar of my cum, I was able to pay off the rent for that store and its contents for the rest of my lifetime. The first day I was open for business, I sold the other half in over fifty different measures and took orders for another hundred or so more. I was warned by a few people not to produce too much, as if the supply increased too much demand would drop, but honestly I didn't care. I had just basically been told that I was orgasming for a living now, and as a result my morale was pretty damn high

I met two more candidates for bottling that day, and agreed that after work, I'd tend to them both together. They both arrived an hour early, so I sent them into the store room to wait. I think I hoped they'd take the initiative and start the fun and games without me, and sure enough when I slipped into the store room myself after closing up the storefront, I was greeted by the sounds of heady moans and cries of pleasure.

On this occasion however, I didn't do as I had with my past two candidates. I didn't skip straight to the fucking, but instead allowed their happiness and contentment to build to even greater heights. I sat upon one of the as yet unpacked boxes, my legs spread and my hands supporting my hefty balls, while one of the two men suckled and made out with my snake-tipped cock. I could feel the blue cherry flavoured essence of my pre-cum rolling down his throat, and I could see in his eyes its intoxicating effects even before I heard him start to moan and saw his hands drop bashfully to his still clothed crotch. He didn't stop suckling on me even as he came inside his clothes, though, and was rewarded with a second orgasm, and a third without pause.

All the while, as the first of the two men drank his fill from my oozing cock, I sat with my head tilted to the left, where the other candidate was seated with his arms draped loosely around my neck. We kissed deeply, moaning and murmuring into one another's muzzles. His tongue danced with my own, flicking and teasing at my own tongue and the moist surface of my lips. He was a really good kisser, and even without the stimulation from our other companion suckling upon my cock, I think I might still have found myself moaning in pleasure at his tenderness.

After a short time of letting my kissing partner take the lead, I began to exert myself a little more. I leaned in towards his embrace, and extended my tongue so that it entered his muzzle, rather than his solely advancing into mine. It was around then that my tongue started to tingle. At first, I thought I'd just worn it out. It's not often you get the chance to exercise your tongue with any particular degree of intensity, so I had no idea what such a feeling was supposed to feel like. Then, I began to taste it. What once had been saliva now had a decidedly sweet and sharp alcoholic kick. A tartness I had come to adore in such a short space of time, which could only come from blue cherry.

"O-oh..."

I moaned softly into my kissing partner's muzzle, and opened my eyes to look at him. His stared back at me, wide and stunned with barely controlled bliss.

Within seconds of one another, I managed to end up with both the men in my care cumming inside their underwear. I brought them to rapture multiple times over before I even considered fucking them, and when I finally did so, I took the time to cuddle with each of them, and thank them for sharing themselves with not only me, but all the people who would enjoy the result of their eternal joy.

It was only much later that night, after I'd consumed my fill of both candidates and spent hours hooked up to the milking machine located at the back of the store room, howling and bucking with bliss as my body filled bottle after bottle of blue cherry schnapps, that I took the time to look in a mirror. My eyes were glazed and my pupils dilated even in the bright fluorescent bathroom lights. I was high on pleasure, drunk with ecstasy, and it was no wonder. Even then, I could see blue liquid dribbling from the corner of my muzzle, and when I opened my mouth it confirmed the reason why.

My tongue was no longer a tongue. It was a second ridged cock. Missing the Jacob's ladder of piercings which even now remained a feature of the underside of my snake-shaft, but otherwise identical to my former, non-sentient erection.

I watched as it dripped yet more sweet, intoxicating pre-cum into the base of my muzzle, and groaned softly. All night I had been resisting the urge to sit back and invite my snake-like member to slip its way into my muzzle and let me have a drink of my own potent elixir. But now I knew I was already half way there, tipsy and giddy with goodness knows how much of my own pre-cum already resting in my stomach, I had no reason to hold back.

In fact, from that moment onward I more or less lived by that philosophy. With everything I had been through, everything that had happened to me and that I'd witnessed, there was no point in holding back. If this all turned out to be some mad fantasy or dream, then I should at least enjoy it while it lasted. And if I really was this lucky, this charmed to have been granted such a pleasure-rich lot in life... well, I had to do my very best to earn it. To make use of the gifts I'd been given.

There were so many things I could do. So many places I could visit and so many new fun things I could explore, a whole world of sexuality open to me which before I hadn't even known existed.

I was going to have such a good time, and the stranger, the weirder the situation, the more I'd embrace it, just as I'd embraced each change to occur within me thus far.

But first... I thought that maybe it would be good to go back to my roots.

Back to where it all began.

There was this club. A club I loved to visit, the perfect place to pick up hot dates for the night. They loved running drinks promotions, and suddenly, I thought of a new brand that might be happy to provide free samples to each and every visitor.

A whole club full of pleasure-crazed, lust obsessed, blue cherry schnapps drunk men and women... and me, the only one who could give them even more of the bliss and satisfaction they craved.

By Jeeves