Abi & the Bizarre Cigar: A Mabel Greysmoke Tale

Story by danath on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Mabel uses her peculiar cigars to redistribute some BDE to help out a friend.


Abi & the Bizarre Cigar: A Mabel Greysmoke Tale

SynTech Slushpile #17

By Danath

Characters © Ursasoul

* * *

"Thank you, Ms. Blacksmoke, and please enjoy the rest of your day."

The secretary, a plump-bottomed otter, held the door for the pandsune as she swept past, casting him a sidelong grin as she tickled the otter's nose with the tip of one of her many tails.

"Greysmoke dear, and you know I will." She says with a smile aa plumes of smoke washed past her black lips as the black-and-white pandsune strutted towards the elevators, nodding at the security guards whose eyes tracked her wide hips and long legs as her rump stretched against her tight black pencil skirt. It was short enough to show that, though her legs were mostly covered in a dense black pelt, it swirled and intermixed with the white that covered her firm upper thighs, creating intricate, smoklike curls and patterns that never seemed to look the same twice. The same situation repeated with her black-socked arms and the short, sleeveless white vest that, much like a corset, propped up her plentiful bosoms and kept them on full display. A wide gold choker stretched from around the back of her neck across her collarbones, resting almost horizontally on the plump bosoms encased in the tight white vest. A few red and blue gemstones glittered in their settings around a single large onyx in the center, matched by a chunky bracelet and stone studs in each ear. Four fluffy white tails swished through the air behind her, held aloft above the plump backside, flicking at the tips and drifting along like so much vapor. The tails emerged from the top of a wide and powerful pair of hips outlined without shame by a tight, smooth black pencil skirt that ended well above her knees. She rested the weight of her body on one leg and cocked the knee of the other, causing a large opening to spread between her plump white upper thighs.

Stretching her black-socked arm to her muzzle, Mabel plucked the large barrel cigar from between her plump lips, then tipped her head back and exhaled as all four of her tails wiggled together in unison. Air filters promptly removed any possibility of secondhand smoke from the air as the security guards ogled, jaws wide as they stared at the sleek black-and-white pandsune. Her pointed, black ears sprang to attention atop her white-furred head, shifting aside the platinum white hair cascading down around her neck and shoulders. A band of black fur stretched from one temple, across her eyes and the bridge of her muzzle, and around to the other temple. The black stretched around her eyes in smooth-edged ovals set amongst the white, adding a natural smoky eyeliner to the pandsune's features, enhanced all the more by the expressive eyebrows resting above her pale purple eyes. One of those black circles opened, while the other remained closed.

Holding up her other paw, the pandsune made a two fingered "V" sign as she winked, before hopping into the elevator just as the doors opened. Teasing the security guards was one of her favorite things to do when visiting the SynTech offices. The panda smirked as the bulge in the front of her taut black skirt shifted, but her attention was on the phone in her paw. The sleek, modern design looked simultaneously luxurious and utilitarian. The pandsune's fingertips caressed the edge of the onyx case as the screen flashed various patterns of colors and light, keeping her attention as the elevator doors closed.

"Oh, it went very well, yes," Mabel said, her throaty growl rising a bit. "I believe we'll finally see the results we've been looking for, Eneera. It will take a while to set up the project, though."

Eneera's screen changed colors a few more times. Mabel nodded thoughtfully as the elevator doors opened to the lobby.

"Good point."

The pandsune's tall heels clacked across the marble floor of the grand lobby of the SynTech Tower. Smooth, dark lines dominated the architecture, along with soaring curved windows with high, peaked arches that allowed the sun to filter in through the automatic shading system. Half a dozen immense black columns stretched six stories high in the grand area, which was dotted with information booths, tour guides and groups, SynTech employees in jumpsuits and business suits alike, and visitors such as Mabel. A spiraling ramp ran around the walls of the upper three floors, providing access to various restaurants, cafes, office spaces, and meeting rooms, as well a grand view of the enormous lobby. The pandsune's heels echoed, drawing attention with each step to the confident swing of her plump rear end and the playful swish of her multiple tails. She smirked as Eneera lit up a few times and even buzzed gently.

"Oh, come on. You'd show off too, you know."

The pandsune suddenly stopped and, heels together, stiffened up straight. Her ears pitched forward and rotated side to side as her nostrils flared. The pandsune's black pupils dilated, stretching until the whites of her eyes were mere slivers of white squeezed between the black fur. If anyone were quite close and quite observant, they'd have noticed gentle pulses deep in the panda's eyes, bursts of energy on a level she was specially trained to detect.

And boy, was she detecting. The front of the pandsune's pencil skirt stretched lewdly forward, showing the base of a satisfying maleness pressing out before curving back down, only for the tip to appear stretching against lacy black pantied down below the hem line of her skirt. Mabel's muzzle opened slightly and the half-smoked cigar tip dropped a few inches as she felt the large eruption of energy nearby. All four tails wiggled from the base to the tip as she suddenly started walking again, this time at a fast, brisk pace across the lobby, striding along in her high heels, ignoring the stares as her plentiful bosoms jostled side to side, waves of firm white pelt shifting and wiggling beneath the golden choker, as she followed her senses outside, down the wide steps, towards the drop-off area where taxis and cars and buses could unload passengers quickly. Eneera flashed a map on its screen, then zoomed and zoomed until it showed their location, along with a series of flashing lines and sensors to triangulate the position of the source.

Ignoring the taxi counter concierge, Mabel strode down the sidewalk, each step bringing a fresh wave of intense energy. It was like a game of Hot and Cold, and she was getting very, very hot. Normally anything this powerful would demand investigation, but especially so in this case. Her dilated eyes fixed ahead as she sensed something off, something dark about this energy, and though the strength of it impressed the pandsune, it left an unpleasant taste on her tongue, both sour and bitter.

"Oh, Mabel, hello!"

The pandsune was so intent on staring ahead, searching for the source of the energy that she almost ran into the small white mouse girl with the long black hair and bangs beaming up at her with inquisitive emerald eyes. The cute and freckled Abigail, last name DuChamp, one of the few SynTech researchers aware of Mabel's... special arrangements with the company vis a vis some research projects. The pandsune often went to the small mouse for help with scientific inquiries when she needed ideas or a new approach to a problem. Abigail's narrow shoulders hunched together as she clutched a packet of papers and folders to her belly, and she kept glancing nervously over her shoulders and up at the panda. To the mouse's credit, her eyes lingered for less time than most on the pandsune's mountainous cleavage and jaw-dropping bulge.

"Abigail! Hello, how are you," Mabel said, voice a bit absent as she scanned the lines of cars slowly moving through the drop-off zone. It was close. Very close. Her skirt shifted on its own between her thighs as, above, her taut nipples stretched against the vest, threatening to squeeze their way right out.

"Oh, I'm doing alright!" the mouse said, speaking at a nervous, rapid-fare pace. One arm lifted and twirled her long, dark hair around a finger. She wore a plain black skirt and a white button-up shirt with long sleeves. Her large glasses framed her gaze as she stared up at Mabel. "I was thinking about that problem you mentioned. I may have a solution for you! I had to stay up a little late last night, so I got some extra time to work on it. Anyways, I'll drop it off for-"

"Hey, ABIGAIL! Don't be late AGAIN tonight you understand?! You know I HATE waiting!"

The bellowing voice immediately attracted the attention of pandsune, mouse, taxi counter concierge, and half the people on the block. Screaming out the passenger window of a large, dark blue SUV, a muscular red bull glared towards Abigail, whose large, round ears fell limp in response. A large, single braid of red hair stretched down his backside as he snarled through the open window. He was huge and filled the SUV with his broad shoulders and visible torso - the big bull's meaty pecs stretched past the edges of the tank top and pulled it down over his sternum. The mouse recoiled, eyes and tail drooping alike as she stared at her feet, nodding her head until the window of the SUV rolled back up. Embarrassment outlined itself on Abigail's features as loud music blasted from inside the vehicle before the tires squealed, zooming off through the restricted speed zone and back out onto the main streets surrounding the enormous tower.

"Who was... that person?" Mabel asked, unable to disguise the contempt in her voice. One look, one sniff, and one good look at the energy flow of the large bull told the pandsune all that she needed to know about the big male, but she wanted to hear it from Abigail first. His energy was impressive, but it was wild and dark and selfish - the kind that put Mabel's teeth on edge.

Abigail's head lifted a bit while her tail pressed down the inside of her leg, and she didn't meet the pandsune's gaze as she spoke in a soft whisper.

"That's my boyfriend, Butch. He's really normally a nice guy, it's just he got in a fight and work and they fired him, so he hasn't been able to go to his gym lately and he just gets frustrated, you know?"

Mabel's nostrils flared, but otherwise she managed to calm herself, even the twitching in her tails, as the wheels in her head spun and spun, thinking up a hundred different plans at once. "Uh huh. And, uh, does Butch talk like that a lot?"

"Oh, no, of course not" Abigail said, straightening her shoulders and forcing a smile. "Anyways, like I said, I'll drop off the research memo with your office later."

Mabel's eyes slid back towards the street, then the corner of her lip curled up in what was at once both a display of aggression and a devious grin. Along her arms and thighs, the black and white swirls of color shifted subtly, moving like smoke and taking new shape, and Mabel pulled a large tote bag from behind her back.

"Mabel, did you have that... just a minute ago? You must have, right?" Abigail asked, squinting at the plain black bag.

"Course I did," the pandsune said, closing her eyes and giving her best panda-fox "3" to the mouse. "Anyways, I just wanted to give you this as a thank you for all the help you've given me! This is a new strain I've developed just for close friends. Even though I know you don't partake, I think you'll find them quite nice. Give a few to your boyfriend and maybe he'll calm down some too!"

Abigail stared inside the bag at the wood-grain box inside, then up at the pandsune. "Oh, wow... thank you, Mabel!"

"Just promise that you'll try one first," Mabel said, leaning closer to the short, skinny mouse girl. Her eyes blinked, and for a moment Abigail was sure she saw clouds of billowing fog within the dark black pupils, but no - they were normal, clear. "Get one started before Butch shows up. I want to make sure you get a chance to enjoy one by yourself. Promise? Good. Anyways, see you later darling!" She leaned down and gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek, which caused the mouse's freckled features to glow.

Mabel stood and waved over her shoulder, strutting away on her heels. Of the hundreds of plans she has concocted, this sort was the best. Straightforward, simple, easy. A little energy rearrangement, that was all. An alignment. A shift. Clearing up imperfections and corruptions was one of her duties, after all.

The pandsune's muzzle stretched open, black lips curling, teeth baring, as large puffs of smoke danced in front of her eyes from the cigar glowing cherry red, casting a pale red glow across her black and white features despite the bright sun.

Old habits die hard.

More importantly, nobody messed with her favorite scientist.

* * *

Later that day, long after Abigail's shift at SynTech ended, she walked through the door of her apartment with a few bags of groceries as well as the black tote she'd received from Mabel. The mouse tried to keep a clean place, and it helped that Butch mostly stayed out of the kitchen, though the blender seemed to be dirty constantly from mixing supplement shakes and the living room was forever strewn with various magazines and "smaller" free weights.

After Abigail managed to stow away the groceries, including the large tubs of chocolate protein powder Butch liked and made her buy every week, she took the black tote from Mabel with her into the living room. The projects Abigail researched involved plant hybrids, which naturally drew Mabel's attention as an expert in tobacco cultivation. They'd been friends for a while and Abi even ate lunch at Mabel's cigar bar once in a while, though she didn't really get the appeal of them. Butch often smoked cigars, on the other hand but they were of a cheaper blend and smelled awful. She emptied the ashtray and swept up the coffee table crumbs before depositing the tote down next to the large silver lighter Butch used. There was a large "69" in big black outlines on the sides, and though Butch claimed a friend gave it to him as a joke, Abigail was sure he bought it just to mess with her. She would have never considered smoking but it was for Mabel, who obviously went out of her way to give her a present, so... maybe a little wouldn't hurt. Maybe it would help her relax. She doubted she'd be able to smoke a whole cigar anyways without getting sick.

She could use it, too. The short mouse was often on the receiving end of various ends - being bumped was part of her day. One of the things she'd enjoyed about going out with Butch when they'd first started dating was how much space people gave the big, muscular bull. Speaking of, Butch wouldn't be back for another hour or two. The bull liked to go to the bar with his weightlifting pals after he worked out, which left Abigail plenty of time to partake before making dinner. After all, how long would it take to say she didn't like it? A few minutes? Less?

Settling back onto the couch, the short, thin mouse girl opened the tote and pulled out the cigar box. She still wore her skirt and button-up, the same as she'd left the house in that morning. The box was large in her dainty paws and she had to set it down on the coffee table before using the tip of her delicate claw to slice through the paper seal over the front. The top of the wooden box, which was stamped in black ink with the logo of Mabel's Fine Tobacco, opened easily on a pair of bronze hinges, revealing two layers of neatly stacked, dark brown cigars. There was a colorful watercolor print glued to the underside of the lid featuring a recognizable black and white cigar bar proprietor walking through a field of tobacco on a sunny day - wearing nothing at all. Abigail squinted at the picture, then, when she realized what it was, blushed due to Mabel for the second time that day.

The scent of the tobacco rushed across Abigail's face, ruffling her fur and filling her nostrils, surging through the olfactory glands up into her brain. Her muzzle dropped and her eyes glazed as she slowly inhaled, taking in a deep breath that filled her narrow, small chest. The dense, rich, and strikingly pungent odor made the mouse's knees weak - it was so musky and warm and spicy all at the same time. Her slender, smooth white fingers brushed along one of the large cigars on top, splaying her short fur across the dried leaf as she felt the texture of the veins and stems. Drawing it slowly from the box, she moved it from base to tip beneath her nostrils, inhaling deeply all the while. She wasn't sure why she did it, but she'd seen others do it, and sure enough, the alluring scent intensified.

Abigail's muzzle, short and narrow, dropped open, and her bright red tongue spilled out. A flush of cherry red spread across her cheeks and upper chest again as she panted, shivering and clenching her thighs with each inhalation. This time, instead of pulling the cigar away, the mouse used both hands to hold the heavy tube in place. It was thicker around than her thumb, even bigger than Butch's thumb, and she had to stretch her lips to fit around the tip.

Her lower hips shifted side to side, grinding down into the cushions, as her eyes shut tight. She hummed around the tip of the big cigar, shoulders squeezing forward as the intense flavor sent spikes of pleasure down her spine and into her toes. She pulled away, gasping, with strands of saliva keeping her connected to the unlit stogie.

"Wow," she gasped, eyes half-lidded, tongue stretching to wipe her moist lips clean.

Her eyes darted to the side, then she leaned forward, stretching her hand out to search amongst the scattering of objects on the coffee table. Ignoring the remote, Butch's workout magazines, and some old reports she'd written for work, her fingers seized on the stainless steel cigar snipper. She snipped the tip of the cigar, licking her lips as she tossed the snips aside and pulled the stogie back to her muzzle, dampening it slightly as her tongue slid over the smooth outside wrapping. The lighter appeared in her paw, then she was toasting the foot of the cigar, moving in a daze, fading in and out of reality as the first fumes filled her small muzzle. The scent drove her left paw between her thighs as she writhed, turning and falling onto her backside along the couch cushions. Her legs drew up and then pressed against the armrest as her long pink tail whipped against the side of the couch. As she sprawled on the couch, she unconsciously moved the ashtray from the coffee table to the back of the couch. All the easier to knock the rapidly growing ash from her stick. Her right paw clutched the cigar, keeping it propped between her stretched lips as she closed her eyes and moaned, hips rising off the cushions each time she pulled a muzzleful of warm, rich vapor through the wide tip of the stogie. Her fingers moved, sliding between her thighs, glistening and damp as warm, tender, lustful feelings rippled through her slight frame. Her small chest rose and fell rapidly as she pulled again and again on the fat cigar, basking the red glow of the tip each time it illuminated her writhing body.

"What the fuck are you doin'? You're gonna ruin my favorite seat!"

"Butch!"

Abigail's eyes snapped open. The cigar was burnt halfway down, she realized, and the whole room was full of the rich, aromatic smoke. Her boyfriend stared down at her from the head of the couch, eyes narrowed and hands on his hips, his eyes occasionally dropping to where her paw worked between her legs, creating a mess right in the middle of the cushion.

"Sitting here diddlin' yourself and smokin'?! Where's dinner, huh? Fuckin' this is bullshit, goddamnit, I told you-"

"I'm sorry, Butch! I got these cigars as a present for you, but I lost track of time and-"

"Well, that's just great, maybe I'll get you a present and waste it all too!"

The bull's nostrils flared as Abigail fled the couch, weak knees stumbling towards the kitchen to start cooking, when she stopped short of the doorway. The cigar flared between her lips, casting a red glow on the door jamb.

"Well?! Food ain't gonna cook itself, stupid, get movin'!" the bull taunted.

Abigail flinched her shoulders clenching for a moment, and then relaxed. She spun around, eyes narrowed, black hair floating and settling into place around her shoulders. She plucked the cigar from her lips, pinching the oversized stogie between her thumb and forefingers, rolling it as her eyes narrowed.

"Stupid? I am many things Butch..." She strode back to the Bull, cigar flaring before she exhaled a plume of smoke aimed at his horned visage.

"What the fuck..?" Butch snapped, but suddenly froze as his nostrils inhaled more of the pungent smoke.

"I am NOT stupid." An uncharacteristic growl rumbled in her throat.

"You know, Butch, you're a real asshole," Abigail said, her voice ringing through the room clear and smooth, more confident than Butch had ever heard her. "I think it's time we re-evaluated our relationship."

"What... the fuck... does that mean?" Butch huffed, chest heaving, pulling his sleeveless black tank top even more tight between his bulging pecs and round muscle-gut. The bull's hooves scraped on the floor as he took a step backwards, eyes wide and tufted tail flicking as the small mouse's free paw prodded his chest.

"Oh, my big empty-headed playtoy is so cute when he's all flustered," Abigail said, sliding a finger down his tank top between his flexing pecs. "He thinks I don't know about all the side pieces, for example."

The bull spluttered. "What? That's bullshit, I ain't never-"

"Oh, shut up and smoke this," Abigail said, interrupting the black-pelted steer. "I'm tired of your mouth, -bitch-."

Butch's eyes went wide, showing the whites, and his lips drew back, ready to unload heaps of verbal abuse on the petite little mouse, but she had other plans. Abigail stuffed the half-smoked cigar between the bull's lips with one paw while the other stretched down and squeezed between his thighs, digging into the fabric of his gym shorts. The bull's teeth clenched around the tip automatically despite himself, and that's when the fresh smoke really got him.

Immediately, the steer's ears went limp. The angry crease in his eyes that Abigail considered permanent vanished as his muzzle sagged. His shoulders fell forward as he relaxed, knees weak as Abi gave him a little push, and he came crashing down onto the couch. The suddenly confident mouse stripped the shirt off the muscular red bull, fingers digging into his black-furred chest. His long braid fell down between the top of the couch and wall as he grunted, eyes closed, smoke puffing from his nostrils and muzzles as he greedily suckled the flavorful tobacco.

"Now be a good boy and suck on dat, so I can suck on dis, heh heh heh..."

Abigail paused, on her knees, both hands in the middle of pulling her boyfriend's thick onyx shaft from his shorts. His muscular thighs flexed to either side of her small shoulders as she wondered just what possessed her to say that. It sounded more like something the bull would say, not her...

A cloud of secondhand smoke enveloped her head, and Abigail looked up, watching as the huge bull's nostrils flared, each time emitting twin clouds of vapor that traveled down his bulging pecs and hard, muscular belly, both outlined by his tight shirt. Butch did like to show off, especially the girth and hardness of his muscle gut, that was clear from his clothing choices. It wasn't difficult to fish the bull's fat length from his jeans because there wasn't much elsewhere for it to go once she'd undone a few buttons on the fly. The mouse shuddered, one paw returning to between her own thighs as the other guided the thick bull shaft against her chest, between her small A-cups. The head slid past her cheek, throbbing and hardening rapidly as the big, muscular, beefy bovine's muzzle let out a steady chorus of low groans and gasps.

Even more voluminous clouds of smoke billowed from the bull's muzzle and nostrils, adding to what the mouse already produced and flooding the room with smoke. His eyes closed as he sagged into the couch, legs spreading wide to the sides, hooves tipping over as his knees went lip. The only stiff part remaining on the bull were his pursed lips and his growing erection. He almost whimpered when he felt the broad, fat stalk slide against the small mouse's chest, tickled by the velvet fur coating her miniature frame - tiny, at least, compared to the broad shouldered and muscular bull.

Abigail felt a lust come over her and shuddered, clutching both paws around the thick stalk. Her small muzzle opened and spread around the tip, bathing it desperately. She had to close her eyes as wisps of smoke thickened, making her eyes water, blocking the view of Butch's midnight black musclegut heaving up and down. She pressed forward, groaning louder as she splayed her small tongue around the tip, hips wiggling side to side as she slid her paws down the pole, right to Butch's fat, swollen balls. The bull's muted bellows emerged through puffed up cheeks as his head swung through the clouds, only for the massive, muscular male to fall back against the cushions and disappear from view. Abigail's large, round ears twitched, the pink insides vibrating along with the rest of her as she stretched her jaw wide as she could. Her eyes scrunched as she felt the tip press past her lips and fill her muzzle.

Her eyes opened with shock, as this was the first time she'd ever been able to do that. Butch's legs twitched and his belly heaved, but otherwise he didn't try to shove her down as she expected him to. His arms remained out of sight in the swirling smoke. Abigail had to close her eyes as additional snorts and moos reached her ears, so instead she focused on bobbing her muzzle around the broad, hard tip. Her paws stretched down, barely able to scrape across the flexing, muscular thighs surrounding the oval sac draping over the cushions between. Abigail swallowed hard as she felt a shudder in her hips, and reached a paw between her thighs. She bucked, eyes scrunching, throat bulging, as she came at the slightest touch, then again and again, drenching her paw and dripping to the floor as she felt the bull's massive pole stretch her muzzle wider yet, to a degree that should have been impossible. The mouse's narrow hips lurched upwards as her petite body lifted with each flex of Butch's thickness, and the mouse wriggled, squirting, heat filling every inch of her body.

Her paws reached out again as she stretched out her legs, finding more solid purchase after a moment. She wrapped her palms around Butch's thighs as she felt the plumes of smoke billow around her, buffeting her side to side as the meaty length throbbed deep in her throat. She swallowed greedily, eyes tightly closed, fingers kneading into Butch's legs. His constant bellows turned to desperate moos and moans. The corners of her muzzle curled into a grin as she wondered, briefly, why they called him "Butch" when he really wasn't all that much. Sure, he was fit, but he wasn't really all that muscular.

"Yeah, that's it, slut," she groaned, pulling off with a wet gasp. "Give it all to me..."

Butch's grunts, still muffled by the glowing ember of the nearly spent stogie, increased in pitch as Abigail's lips clamped around the base of his cock and dragged backwards, right to his tip, before easily pulling the thick length back down, swallowing to the base and shoving her nose into his crotch, where she could inhale the mix of smoke and musk at its strongest. Her hips wiggled again as she leaned forward, using the fat stalk as a way of balancing herself as, between her spread legs, she wrapped her paws around a thick erection just as big as Butch's. The meaty shaft pulsed between her fingers as she stroked with both paws, humping her hips as she ground herself down around the squirming, gasping bull's arousal. The fit, tall mouse girl's heavy balls rolled side to side atop of her fingers as she pumped against her palms.

Abigail grunted, the tip of her thick maleness stretched between her fingers, pressed towards the floor by the clear bulges and ripples of muscle along her slightly swollen belly. When she opened her eyes, she couldn't see at all through the wall of smoke filling the room, illuminated only by the bright red glow of the tip of the cigar where Butch's head would be. The mouse licked her lips, one paw leisurely stroking down her aching pink cock or squeezing the full, fat balls beneath, while the other reached out and clutched at Butch's smooth chest, pawing at his narrow belly and shoulders. The bull grunted, moaning, shuddering as he came, though Abigail appeared to have no difficulty handling the twinky bull's miniscule loads.

"Good thing you're cute, you little whore, 'cuz your dick ain't nothing to write home about," she grunted around the cock squirting across her tongue. "Heh heh... I'm gonna milk you dry, bitch!"

The lack of length didn't stop the wide-set mouse from getting what she wanted out of her boyfriend. Her muzzle worked hard, thick red tongue and plump pink lips squeezing and rippling around the bull's whole crotch, pulling his golf-ball sized balls in with his shaft. Abigail closed her eyes again, leisurely suckling and grunting and flexing as she leaned over the couch. Her pink tail whipped the air behind her as she stretched her legs to the side, glutes clenching and lips smacking. The mouse's white-furred fingers squeezed into her massive cock, hard enough that the thick flesh spread between each of her powerful digits, then pulled down, stretching it tight as a few thick ropes of clear pre-cum erupted from the tip, barely missing her favorite seat on the couch. As she rose to her full height her large chest barely shifted, held aloft by her thick pectorals, crowning the mouse's broad, round muscle-gut, a testament to her devotion to powerlifting.

Abigail grinned as she swallowed and licked her lips clean one last time, then stretched out a paw and plucked her cigar from the tray on the back of the couch. Realizing it had already burned down to a stub, she took a last drag before she stubbed it out while the smoke slowly cleared. Her long hair was pulled back into a single massive braid, the dark locks were streaked with crimson, and swung around her side as she walked, easily reaching to her thick hips. She kept it up at work in a neat pile, but here, at home, she felt free to let it swing.

Abigail's seven-foot-tall, four-hundred-pound body stretched and twisted as she worked her aching muscles. The latest time she'd spent at the gym was really paying off, she thought, as she stared lustfully down at her massive biceps, hard belly, and fat cock outlined by her gym shorts. She pulled the waistband open and grinned down at her currently flaccid and dripping shaft, hanging down a few inches past the swollen, softball-sized testicles beneath. Abi grunted and grinned as she scratched her short claws through the thicker, longer patch of dark red fur sprouting from the base of her heavy dick. The treasure trail stretched upwards, narrowing to a point along the center valley between the ridges of rounded out abdominals, before trailing off before reaching her cleavage. Her breasts were large, but not enough to get in the way of her lifting, and bounced nicely on her beefy, thick pecs. They shoved through the armholes of her vastly stretched sleeveless tank top, which pulled up on its own to reveal the swell of her muscular stomach. Patches of thick red fur spread along the tops of her forearms in stripes from the elbow to wrist, matched by similar stripes down her thighs, as well as a little tuft of red hair at the tip of her long, pink tail. Patches of red also nestled in on the back of her large, powerful hands. Clenching her hips as she leaned down and plucked another cigar from the box, Abi's large ears twisted and her heavy, dark red eyebrows furrowed over her brow as she savored the scent. The mouse resolved to thank Mabel properly for such exquisite smokes.

"Heh... fuck, these're good," she grunted. "Gonna have to see about buying another box. Damn..."

Abi nipped the tip of the cigar with her teeth, spat it to the side, and popped the long, fat tube between her plump lips. She turned around and slumped into the empty couch, reclining her enormous and powerful bulk along the cushions before spreading her huge biceps over the back of the furniture, assuming a familiar pose while ignoring the warm mess of seed puddled on top of it. Her bulk stretched forward and her fingers seized on her favorite lighter, a stainless steel refillable with a large black outline of a bull's head and the numbers "69" between the horns. The flint caught easily as she flicked the wheel and lowered her muzzle, pulling on the flame through the large tube until the tip smoldered.

"Fuck, I could go for a blowjob. Jerkin' jus' gets me all worked up," she growled, the mouse's deep voice booming from her broad, muscular torso. A large white hand wrapped around her heavy balls, squeezing and groping through the fabric of her shorts. "How'm I gonna concentrate on work tomorrow if I don't get my dick wet soon? I need some cutie down between my legs and worshipping! Fuuuuck..."

Plumes of smoke accompanied the vulgar bellyaching as Abi scratched her full, plump balls. The enormous shaft jutting from her hips draped over the edge of the cushion between her meaty thighs as she leaned forward and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. She'd just started her favorite sports talk show - it was a good distraction from reading lab results all day at work - when she realized she could really go for a drink. The mouse grinned and swung her legs around, heaving her bulky frame off the couch. She turned up the volume on the television before lighting the cigar on the way into the kitchen, grunting in agreement when she heard the hosts of the show denigrate the management of her least favorite team. Abigail emerged from the kitchen with a six-pack of beer and a bag of pretzels, both of which she rested on the swell of her muscular belly as she slowly stroked her thickness.

Maybe it was time, the mouse thought, as she took a swig of beer, to find a new girlfriend. Or boyfriend. That last one hadn't worked out so well. She paused stroking her fat thickness for a moment and instead used her fingers to dig into the taut flesh of her swollen, white-furred sac between her powerful thighs, scratching them as she took another swig, draining the can. Her fingers shifted lower, between her legs past her balls, and she closed her eyes and smirked, shuddering from head to toe. Crushing the can in her other fist, she tossed it over her shoulder and refocused on the television, paw still idly working between her muscular thighs, only stopping to bring her cigar back to her lips. A pawful of pretzels crunched between her sharp teeth as she chewed open-mouth, her crumb-laden paw already returning to stroke her thickening maleness. She'd clean up the musky gym clothes and trash tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to relax, though she again thought it'd be a lot easier if she had some slutty, warm, hungry muzzle wrapped around her pole. The big mouse grunted as one hand flipped through pictures on Humpr on her phone while the other stroked the fat length between her thighs, all while keeping half an ear on the idiotic opinions of the sports show hosts, those dumb shits.

Maybe Mabel would be able to set her up with someone, she thought, before her plump lips spread across her short, narrow muzzle, and her dark red eyebrows furrowed. Someone who knew good cigars and could appreciate a gal with a little extra. Maybe Mabel... heh heh heh...

Pretzels weren't gonna cut it, Abigail decided. Her muzzle broke into a smirk as she picked up her phone and scrolled through the contacts - work numbers, other scientists from SynTech, various bars and gyms, a bunch of numbers for some hot bitches Abigail remembered more for their measurements than their personalities, and of course, her favorite pizza place. She stabbed her finger at the screen and popped a few more pretzels in her muzzle, chewing noisily between swigs of beer as she waited for the restaurant to pick up and take her order. As she spoke, she stripped off her tank top and shorts, relaxing in the nude, basking in her own heavy musk and tobacco smoke. She licked the salt from her claw tips before popping her large, burning cigar back into her short muzzle.

"Yeah... three extra large four cheeses and the cutest delivery boy you got," she grunted into the phone, cradling it between her cheek and shoulder as she worked both hands up and down her flexing, drooling cock, milking a few fat strands of pre-cum out of the tip and onto the floor. "The fuck you mean 45 minutes? Make it 20 and I'll pay double - I'm fuckin' starvin'!"

She smirked as she ended the call, then let out a belch. The empty beer can she crushed in her paw wasn't as thick as the erection that pressed against the underside of her gut, dripping clear pre in anticipation.

"Gonna get a REAL big tip... Heh heh heh."

By the time the pizza arrived, Abigail was still rock hard and her belly growled constantly on top of that. She drained the last beer in the six pack before tossing it over her shoulder to join the rest of the discarded cans, then stood up and tipped her head back with the bag of pretzels upturned over her muzzle, pouring the last few pieces and crumbs of bread and salt into her muzzle, though plenty more scattered across the floor, along with the bag when the big powerlifter dropped it a moment later. Her footsteps thudded across the floor as she walked to the door, her fat stalk swinging side to side over her balls and thighs, quads swelling as she leaned against the wall to the side of the door, then pulled it open, ensuring her muscular torso, heavy breasts, and swollen cock were on full display for whoever stood on the other side.

The chubby college student framed in the doorway was a black bear. His broad chest had so much thick, deep fur that the white shirt trimmed in red pulled tight across his chest and arms, revealing the small belly poking from between the bottom of the shirt and his red shorts. The smooth, young-looking male gawked when he realized the nude, muscular mouse, more than a foot taller than him and a few hundred pounds heavier, was quickly popping a firm, thick stiffy thicker than his wrist.

"Uhhhhh... I have your cock... I mean... I have your tits... I mean, pizza!" he stammered, eyes wide, darting from Abigail's huge biceps to her muscular, round gut, to her impressive thighs and the thick pink maleness, to the black and red braid hanging from the back of her head a few loose strands falling in front of her striking green eyes... his shorts tented and his breathing quickened as the musky, sweaty scent of the single mouse's apartment billowed into the hallway, accompanied by the warm, pungent odor of tobacco. Abigail's pose was shameless, and her white fur twitched and shifted and she flexed her shoulders and thighs for the soft bear's benefit.

Abigail's thick eyebrows curled down as she narrowed her gaze on the plump, cute black bear, who licked his lips as she stretched her arms up and grasped the top of the door jamb, then leaned forward, shoving her full breasts and massive belly forward. Her meaty cock and balls swung as she grinned down at the obviously aroused bear. Her lips pursed around the large cigar between her lips, and a stream of smoke blew across the bear's stunned face. He moaned and nearly dropped the pizza.

"C'mon in, my wallet's in the kitchen," Abigail grunted, pink tail flicking as she turned and strutted back into the apartment, shifting the cigar to the side of her muzzle as she exhaled from the other.

The pizza delivery boy followed behind, struck dumb by the situation at hand, a wet spot already forming on the front of his red shorts. His nostrils flared and his eyes bugged as he realized he was stepping through a wet layer of seed drizzling from the muscular, powerful mouse's shaft, which was pushed forward by her muscle gut. Abigail went into the kitchen for a moment, but emerged with another six-pack of beer in addition to her wallet - and her fat, pink stalk leading the way, a beastly maleness throbbing between her muscular thighs and belly. She broke a can off and cracked it while dropping the rest on the couch, then turned to the bear, still chugging. Draining the can, she smacked her lips noisily and let out a sigh. The can clattered onto the floor as she strode up to the speechless black bear and plucked the pizza box from his claws. She opened it up and took out a slice of pizza, grinning wide at the bear as she leaned forward and took a huge bite, half the slice disappearing. She set the box down on the coffee table next to her, then, still munching the slice in her left paw, she stretched her huge, muscular arm over the black bear's head. Her palm covered both ears as she shoved him down onto his knees in front of her massive belly, then pulled him forward. Her hips rocked against him, grinding her thick pink stalk into the side of the black bear's boxy tan muzzle, smearing and slicking the fur with pre. Beneath the mouse's fingers, a few $20 bills crinkled against the top of the delivery boy's head.

"You can earn yourself two nice big tips right now, cutie, one after the next," Abigail grunted through a mouthful of cheese and sauce. "Let's see them lips of yours get ta work. Heh heh..."

As the delivery driver opened his muzzle, spreading his jaws to accommodate the girth of the muscular mouse's thickness, Abigail's eyes closed. Her thighs clenched as she felt the black bear's nostrils blowing hot breaths across the base of her length, and her hips went side to side, sliding her sausage deep into the back of his muzzle.

"Mmmmhhhhh, oh, fuck, yeah," Abigail groaned. She leaned over, squeezing her hard gut into the bear's face as she grabbed another slice of pizza from the coffee table. His claws grabbed her iron-like thighs as she straightened up and pumped forward, grinding her stalk into his throat hard enough to make the cute bear's eyes bulge, though he didn't stop swallowing, to his credit. "You're really good... you must have done 'dis before, hot stuff..."

* * *

The smartphone on the large wooden desk buzzed. The screen flashed a few times, first in white, then in long red bursts.

Mabel leaned over the desk, chest spreading against the button-up blouse beneath her as she rested her cheek in her paw, rolling her eyes at the increasing dramatics of the smartphone. One of her four tails wiggled in the air behind her, releasing wispy trails of pungent smoke. The black skirt squeezing around her hips plumped outwards against the cushion of her large wooden office chair, obscuring the plush leather padding across the seat. Between her lips, a long, slender cigarillo bobbed before she plucked it between her elegantly-held fingertips.

"Oh, please, like anyone will notice. In fact, it would be interesting if they noticed. That would be worth - anyways, sure, fine, scold me, violation of regulations regarding interplanar blah blah blah," the pandsune said, before dropping her head to pout into her arms. "You never let me have any fun, Eneera!"

The smartphone vibrated a few times, but the flashing colors subsided.

An instantaneous attitude shift overcame the pandsune. Her black ears perked up and her muzzle twisted into a curly grin as she popped the cigarillo back into her muzzle.

"Thanks, Eneera, you're the best!"

It was the smartphone's turn to do the equivalent of an eye roll, in this case, a forlorn vibration that trailed off after a brief moment. The screen went back, then opened on a social media profile featuring a massive mouse grinning at the camera over the swell of her huge, curled bicep. Mabel grinned at the picture as it flipped through a slideshow of images of the buff, confident, powerful mouse girl posing in a variety of skimpy clothes, most with a series of suggestive emojis posted below. The cocky rodent's follower count was already into the tens of thousands. Mabel sighed as she felt a stirring in her loins while gazing at the images of the soft, plush white fur stretching taut around obscenely thick, muscular arms, thighs, belly, not to mention the prominent bulge between her thighs...

The screen suddenly went black and Mabel's fingers returned to above the desk. She exhaled a long, thin stream of spicy, fresh smoke before stubbing out the small snack of a cigar into the ashtray on her desk.

"Fine. That one's not so good. Don't re-order it."

From the hallway, she heard servers shouting at the cooks as the late night dinner rush picked up in the bar outside the pandsune's office door. Her black and white fur squeezed against her taut evening gown as she leaned back in her chair, her clothes changing with a thought to something more appropriate for an appearance in the smoke-filled establishment. She had to keep up appearances, after all.

The pandsune stood, allowing the glimmering, shimmering fabric to drape down her plump hips and ample chest, snagging momentarily around the bulge in the playful pink satin panties before gravity tugged it mostly smooth to the floor, piling around the high heels elevating her hips and showing off the plumpness of the wide rump in back. Appearances was something the pandsune was very good at, and as she strutted towards the door, Eneera balanced on her fingertips, Mabel slid her free paw into the fluffy white fur of her cleavage, withdrawing a moment later a stogie worthy of appearing between the panda-kitsune hybrid's muzzle in public. The enormous barrel of the dark wrapper propped open her jaw as the corner of her muzzle curled. The phone flashed and buzzed in her fingers as Eneera tried to get her attention.

"Okay, okay, fine, back to the mission. But just think about how much more productive she'll be as a scientist without any messy relationship worries? Plus, her BDE is far more pleasant than before, right? Gotta keep things aligned, right?"

The pandsune's tails wiggled as she stretched her slender fingers around the smartphone. The screen changed, showing status reports regarding their current mission. Eneera buzzed a few times in resignation as the pandsune smirked. She couldn't wait to drop in at the SynTech offices tomorrow morning to say good morning to her favorite scientist - and maybe offer the mouse a few coupons to entice her back to the Swollen Ego Cigar Bar for a long lunch... The pandsune swept into the hall, memorizing the data on the screen even as she mesmerized the servers and patrons of the darkened bar, striding through the place without a care as if she owned it. She stopped near the bar and leaned over the counter, eyes still on her phone, for the cute little skunk girl behind the counter to light the tip of her magnum cigar with trembling paws. The pandsune smirked, tails twisting and braiding as the candlelight in the sconces on the wood paneled walls cast a warm glow across her ripe, powerful figure. The tip of the cigar glowed red before Mabel's fingers stretched up, pulling the stogie from her lips. Her eyes flicked to the skunk girl, whose eyes stared up at the well-dressed pandsune with a mixture of awe and lust. A stream of smoke billowed across the skunk's face as Mabel leaned forward, breasts pillowing across the bartop as she turned fully, hips propped up by her heels to display the fantastic swell of her rump. Mabel's long fingers stretched out and teased under the skunk's narrow chin, before the kitsune winked.

"See me in my office after your shift, cutie."

It was good to be the boss.

Eneera buzzed in Mabel's pocket and, retreating towards the front desk, the pandsune placed the phone to her ear.

"You have... one... new message. Playing... first... new message."

Mabel's ears perked. Eneera filtered her calls, so to allow one through to leave a message was rare.

The line crackled with static before a deep, masculine voice roared loud enough that a few nearby diners turned their heads. Mabel ducked outside the restaurant and onto the street as the roaring continued.

"DA FUCK YOU DO TA ME, YA CRAZY WITCH?! I WOKE UP WITH MORNIN' WOOD AN' DIS FUCKIN' COCK FEELS SO GOOD I GOTTA RUB ONE OUT EVERY TEN MINUTES! GOD DAMN, I PUT HALF DA SLUTS 'N MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK INTO SEX COMAS 'N IF I RUN OUTTA NUMBAHS, I'M GONNA BE LOOKIN' FER YOU, SO YOU BETTA EXPLAIN YERSELF!"

There was a brief pause, some heavy, labored breathing, and a high-pitched scream of pure orgasmic joy that definitely wasn't coming from Abi. For a few moments, it sounded like the phone was being held up to a gushing waterfall.

"Also," the mouse said, her voice lower and more in control as the high-pitched cries continued in the background, "Thank ya for da cigars. Fuckin' amazing. Can I come by da bar to pick up another box?"

*beep*

"End of messages."

The end