Short Stories and poems

A Skunk's Christmas Venison

A Skunk has some fun with his boyfriend.

Cecil had just finished things up in the kitchen when he heard a vehicle pull up in the driveway. The skunk stood up on a set of steps, and looked out the window, to see his buck of a boyfriend stop and get out of their truck. He nervously licked his lips, as he looked at the object he had upon his wrist, as the muscular deer walked towards the door. The only thing that didn’t match the strong image were the buck’s antlers – they were what were called spikes – single, non-branching protrusions coming out of his head. Cecil got down off the steps, and went to the same door, opening it. “How was work, Donald?”

“Long and long,” the buck said.

“In that case, let me help you out,” said Cecil. “I’m sure that you’d like a full-body massage.”

Donald grinned. “What are you thinking of?”

Cecil grinned, as he looked up at his tall boyfriend. “I want to enjoy some venison.”

The buck chuckled. “Oh, that sounds like fun,” he said.

“I’m glad you like the idea,” Cecil said, as he embraced his boyfriend.

Donald felt a pinch of pain in his butt. “Don’t tell me,” he said, as he started to shrink. “You got inspired by the Assassin’s Creed games.”

Cecil chuckled, as he showed off the device upon his wrist. “Yep. Hidden needle.”

“Last time you simply gave me a pill and a cup of water,” said Donald, as his pants and underwear fell down, his shirt being very baggy upon in. “A little slower this time.”

“Modification I made,” said Cecil. “Still, you were the one working on Christmas. You need your time for fun now.”

The deer was barely the size of the skunk now, as Cecil removed the shirt from Donald.

“So, what are you going to do?” the buck asked, as the shrinking speed up. The deer was soon the size of a mouse.

“Put you someplace nice and warm,” said Cecil.

“Let me guess, a meat pie?” Donald asked.

The skunk chuckled. “Nope.” He picked the little deer up, walked over to the kitchen counter, and got up on the steps.

Donald looked it over. “Hmm, looks like fun.”

“I’m glad that you approve,” said Cecil. He then dunked the buck into a bowl of marinade.

“Seriously!” the deer exclaimed. “You could of let me just jump in.”

Cecil chuckled. He then got to work on getting some vegetables ready. “I like the idea of being in charge of someone smaller than me.” He was busy slicing and dicing carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, and a few other things. “Nothing like a Venison Stir Fry.”

Donald chuckled, as he swam to the edge of the bowl. “Sounds delicious.”

Cecil went over to where he had some rice, and made sure that it was ready to be used. He soon got the stove on – the water already hot and boiled. He put the rice into the pot, and then got a pan to do up the vegetables in. He placed them in it, and poured Donald and the marinade into the pan too. The skunk soon showed off his skills, by tossing the mixed veggies, and Donald, up into the air, and catching them, more than a few times.


Soon enough, the cooking was done. Cecil scooped the rice onto a plate, followed by the vegetables, and of course Donald. He then added on a bit more teriyaki sauce. Then, he grabbed some chopsticks. “Always adds a bit of a touch,” the skunk said, as he went to the living room.

Cecil then turned on a movie. It was the one about the person that hated Christmas, tried to rob someone, only to encounter some fella dressed as Santa, who decided that it was Hammer Time. It was just a dumb movie overall, really. However, it was good enough to just mindlessly eat during though.

Soon enough though, what was left was a sauced-up, rice-covered, muscular buck named Donald. Cecil licked his lips, as the skunk looked the deer over. He then picked up his piece of venison, opened his mouth, and plopped the morsel between his jaws, and closed his lips. He then used his tongue to tease his boyfriend, licking him up and down, pushing him this way and that. Eventually, the deer was spent. That was when Cecil swallowed, sending Donald down his throat, and to his stomach.

“This is the annoying part,” said Donald. “I lose my antlers. Can’t even begin to regrow them for six months!”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Cecil. “If you had a huge rack, I wouldn’t be able to swallow you. Scratch my throat up pretty good if we tried.”

“I guess you have a point,” said Donald. “But my brother, he can grow large ones, as does my father.”

Cecil chuckled. “Oh, wait until you reform,” the skunk said, as he looked over at a box under the tree. “I got something that will help you out with that issue.”

“One of your potions?” Donald asked.

“Not quite, but I think that you’ll enjoy it,” said Cecil, as he looked at an image of some prosthetic antler attachments. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Berry Christmas,” Donald said. The buck then began to squirm, pleasuring his, currently, larger boyfriend.

A smile came to the skunk’s face, as he felt the deer’s movements. The wrist device was the best Christmas present his boyfriend ever got for him.