Nuts

Warnings and such: If you are under the age of eighteen, stop readin’ right now. For those of you with weak constitutions, or who just don’t like freaky situations, might want to find a different story. If you’re big on scientific details, sorry, this is fiction. All people, places, animals, and events are purely fictional and for entertainment purposes. And remember, no one’s forcing you to read this, so don’t complain if you do and get weirded out. Thank you.

Nuts

Amanda Bellinger never claimed to be the most beautiful woman in the world. To tell the truth she was best described as the lovelier side of average, late twenties, with her dyed blonde hair done up in a bun, her clear hazel eyes behind her rimless glasses, and her slightly round face. Further down was more fun to look at anyway, and even Amanda couldn’t argue that point. She wasn’t skinny, but at the same time, she wasn’t fat either, she’d had a boyfriend who’d said she was “well formed”, and looking from her near d-cup breasts, down her slightly curved waist, and around her shapely hips, one could hardly argue with that assessment. She never really dressed with the intention of attracting attention, and she sometimes wondered if that “could care less” attitude was what made men do a double take. She traditionally wore skirts, nothing coming above the knees, with sensible shoes, and slightly loose blouses. Yet somehow, she always managed to make at least one male a day forget what he was doing just to watch her click past on her way to work, or lunch, or home. That was her week, mostly, nothing really fun until the weekend, unless you counted renting movies or reading a good horror novel as “fast paced excitement”. The weekends were usually reserved for shopping, seeing movies with her friends, and the occasional date.

They were occasional only for the fact that she tended to avoid them if she could. It wasn’t that she wasn’t “into” men, as the mailroom rumor went, or even that she was aching for “someone special” or “a lost love”. It was more that she was tired of the men she dated expecting her to throw herself into their back seat, buck naked and holding a condom. She’d begun to think that maybe her problem was her lack of attention to details. Most of her dates were men she barely noticed as she typed, called, faxed, and what not, and later found out that, had she kept her eyes open and her ear to the water cooler, she’d have known that to them, the word “date” meant simply “dinner and a fuck”. She’d maced two, had to kick one in the balls, and was seriously considering filing charges on another, and that was just in the last two months. She’d begun to wonder if perhaps she needed to get out more, pay more attention to the gawking and the turned heads and maybe take the offensive for once.

Now, all this is just to give you a nice, plain picture of Amber Bellinger. To be quite honest, I have no interest in telling you of her job, her constant bickering with her mother every phone call, or the fact that she sometimes fantasized about the UPS guy delivering a “special” package all for her. What I want to focus on is Amber’s most immediate, annoying, and quite frankly, frustrating problem besides her lack of a sex life.
Squirrels.
You see, Amber lived in the suburbs, a nice little two bedroom, two bath, backyard, great for the starting couple or single bachelor/bachelorette, etc., where she lived by herself with her cat and her parakeets (I never said peacefully), and a couple of young squirrels. The squirrels, naturally, weren’t pets, but simply residents of the multitude of trees she’d had planted around her back yard to keep her neighbors from spying on her while she sunbathed or gardened or just sat on the patio and read. She’d had this done after she’d noticed one of her neighbor’s sons (the two year old, thankfully. Well, sort of thankfully.) peeking through the fence as she, er, made sure there were no tan lines, if you catch my meaning. The child hadn’t understood what he was looking at mind, just that the neighbor lady was laying out on the grass without her clothes on, much like he enjoyed doing after playing in the kiddie pool. Of course, when his mother heard that the “nice lady back dere laying nakkies”, she gave Amanda no end of holy hell until finally the young woman got sick of it and hired a landscaper to put up a protective barrier of tree between herself and “the harpy”. To be honest, she was more afraid of the boy’s father or his older brother deciding to catch an eyeful next time, and then finding herself in even more trouble.

Well, all this was well and good until she discovered she had more peeping toms. There were three of them, actually, and though she couldn’t tell why, she had the feeling all three were males. Maybe they were brothers, fresh out of momma’s nest and looking to settle down…….right after they drove Amanda nuts, that is. They’d tear into cat food, parakeet food, bird feeders, any kind of food they could reach, she’d even found one plucking grapes out of a bowl on her kitchen counter once. Besides that, they chewed her lawn ornaments, defecated on her patio, dug holes in her lawn, and basically seemed to do whatever they damned well pleased. She’d tried to sick Tucker, her five-year-old tabby on them, but he just gave her the look of “You’re kidding, right?” and went back to cleaning himself. It got so bad she’d actually considered buying a small caliber rifle and just waiting for a clear shot, but she knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t look at them as she was killing them, her conscience would eat her alive, but she had pretty much come to the conclusion that if they weren’t gonna leave on their paws, they were gonna leave in a garbage bag. The obvious answer, or at least the one that would keep her hands relatively out of it all, was an exterminator, but she had yet to find one that would take the job seriously. Most had the “live and let live” answer to those particular rodents, and one even explained that, through they could be annoying, they were hardly as destructive or disease spreading as rats or mice, so why bother? That was the last straw. She decided she’d just have to make due, put her conscience on hold, and whip up something to take the little buggers down. She started in the natural place, under the sink. Between drain cleaner, window cleaner, air freshener, paint thinner, and a couple of other odd cans of god only knew what, she knew she probably had enough to lay a thousand of the little bastards out flat, but somehow, she needed to make it, special. Painless, actually came to mind. Yeah, that was it. She didn’t want to have to look outside and see the three little nutmunchers, cute fuzzy animals despite their annoying habits, writing in agony, throwing up their own blood, and coughing out their brains. She thought it would probably be more humane to make them just, drift off to sleep and never wake up again. With that in mind, the next stop was the medicine cabinet. She smiled softly, shaking her head. During her first year in the house, she’d somehow developed a near crippling hypochondria, strong enough for her to actually show symptoms of this and that, and as a result, her medicine cabinet practically bulged with bottles and caplets and what not. The few men she’d ever brought home had sometimes left this or that, allergy medicine or the like, and most of that had warning labels as well. Perfect.

I mentioned earlier that Amanda often chided herself for not paying attention to details. It was true, and quite frankly was the reason for a good eighty percent of her problems. She had the repair and plumbing bills to prove it, and as she tossed a few of these, a dash of that, and one or two drops of such and such, she would have done well to note a few labels. For instance, one label prominently mentioned “Stamina, for you and her”, while another mentioned “taking your arousal to new heights”, “more cum, more fun”, and perhaps the most prominent, the one that should have caused her to dump the whole mess down the drain: “Growth Hormone”. But intent of making the bushy tailed rodents’ departures from this earthly coil as quick and painless as possible, she just tossed the lot in, added water, and mixed it into a paste. She took the bowl into the kitchen, added a few crushed almonds, some kernelled corn, and a dashes of spice to cover any odd taste or smell, walked outside, and placed the bowl at the base of one of the trees, humming softly as she went back inside to take a shower.

The next morning the bowl was empty, and from the chew marks on it, it was clear the little pests had lapped up every bite, attempted to find more, and given up. For the next week, Amanda checked her back yard, waiting to see little furry bundles laying in wait for a shovel and a trash bag. But as the days went by, not a dead squirrel in sight, though, things did change. For one, she noticed a lot more rustling in the treetops, and while she dreaded the fact that this probably meant the little pricks had found some tail to bugger, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was true. It sounded more like, larger things, rather than more, and she began to wonder if maybe she’d gotten rid of squirrels only to attract raccoons, or stray cats. The chew marks on timbers of her porch grew larger, and she began to worry. Also, she started getting a feeling like something, or some things, were watching her, especially at night, when she’d shower and slip into her nightgown. She was tempted to call the police, especially after the night she was sure she’d seen someone rush away from the window when she turned around to look, but she just brushed it off as paranoia. Then there was Tucker. Usually, he wanted out at sundown every night, but lately he’d been staying indoors, rushing away every time she even mentioned going out. She decided it must be raccoons, what else could climb trees and put the fear of god into a cat?

She found out all too soon.

The night it happened was hot. Hot and muggy, the very air seeming to cling to you, making every kind of clothing like a wet towel on your body. Amanda had abandoned her idea for putting on her nightgown, and the feel of the thin sheet on her bare skin was, rather enticing. If it weren’t for the fact that she needed to get up early in the morning, she was tempted to seek out her special “toy” hidden in the bottom dresser drawer, but she settled for playing softly with her the sticky folds of her sex, flicking the clit softly and sighing contentedly. She pressed one finger into herself and moaned, and somewhere near the back door, something chewed through a corner, widening a hole. She slid a second finger in beside the first, giving a shuddering yelp, and a window clicked against the wall as something pushed through it. She fingered herself hard and fast, picturing that UPS man again as she panted and moaned, a third form slipping through the cat door, ignoring the cowering feline in the corner. Amanda did not become aware of these intruders, in fact, until she heard the creak of her bedroom door, and the patter of feet on carpet. Her heart leapt into her throat and she held back a whimper as her free hand sought the pepper spray she kept by her bedside, her other hand still unconsciously buried inside the folds of her vagina. Her hand was just past the edge of the bed when something wrapped around her wrist, something warm and sharp. She yelped and pulled, tears of pain springing to her eyes as she pulled her fingers free of her body and swiped at the unseen attacker, starting at the growl, and the sudden flash of light as the lamp snapped on at her touch. She stared in a mix of shock and horror at the thing on her wrist. There was no denying what it was, though it was far too big, at least the size of a five year old, but the smooth brown fur, the pointed ears, dark, angry eyes, the furry tail curled against its back……..
Squirrel. Very, big, squirrel.
The cover suddenly vanished and she looked down to see two more of the oversized beasts sitting on the foot of her bed, near her bare toes, glaring at her. A part of her mind, far too calm, recognized them, the coloring, the form, the three from the backyard, but the rest of her mind was screaming to wake up. The pain in her wrist reminded her that this was very, very real, no matter what her “sensibility” told her. She felt her arm shoot upward as the third squirrel beast hopped up beside her on the bed, releasing the limb to tower over her, and that close up, another feature of these mockeries of her senses suddenly registered.
The cocks.
Squirrel cocks weren’t supposed to look like those. She wasn’t an expert, hell, she didn’t even know if squirrels were supposed to HAVE cocks, but these, these looked like the human organ, save that the long, sticky looking shafts ended at a furred ring, just above the balls. They were eight inches long if they were an inch, and each one seemed to pulse and throb, the three beasts staring hungrily, hatefully at her as small streams of some viscous fluid dribbled down the tip. Amanda’s mind raced, trying to justify this as a terrible nightmare while wondering what in the hell was going on?! Obviously these weren’t dead, and also obviously they were seriously pissed off at her, but why……… The answer made her stomach churn even before the question was finished. The pills in the cabinet. The self-love. The pulsing organs now oozing precum onto her bare flesh. Oh god. No! She scrambled to roll off the bed, thrashing madly, a sob escaping her lips as she rolled toward the open side of the bed.
It was a terrible mistake. She made it to her belly before the first squirrel hit.
There was no teasing, no prepping, no warning or preparation of any kind. She felt claws on her hips and a sudden, stabbing pain lancing up from her cunny. With a scream she looked between her hanging breasts as the brown, fur covered balls pressing obscenely against her body, the almost wrist thick purple shaft nowhere to be seen, but definitely to be felt. She half sobbed, half wailed and tried to pull herself forward, only to feel the strong claws drag her down the bare inch she’d managed to free. The beast pulled back and for an instant she felt relief, hope, and then the terrible pain wracked her body again as it slammed into her, the balls like a punch to her clit.
The second she thought there could be no greater pain, no more terrible feeling than this, she heard the second one move, felt more claws scurrying at her flesh, cutting little openings. She heard the first gnash its teeth and the other respond, the horrid thrusting never ceasing. She felt her ass cheeks being pried apart, and opened her mouth to plead, the no becoming a scream as the fist like head battered against the puckered ring of her anus. Again and again, the horrid creature attacked her still virgin hole, and she prayed he’d give up, just as it thrust hard, pressing, the terrible pressure causing the battered ring to give, ripping as an organ never meant to enter that orifice bulldozed its way into her bowels. There was no pause on this one, and it was almost as though they were playing a duet, one thrusting in as the other pulled out. She could feel blood and something else, precum probably, oozing down her thighs, and she wailed and thrashed to no avail.
She thought, maybe, this humiliation could not become more vile, and then the purple head of the final creature smacked her chin. The third rodent pressed its claws into her now fly away hair, thrusting its hips at her. If she’d had the time, the mind, to think, she would have pressed her lips together and closed her eyes until it gave up. But instead, she screamed, and with the next thrust, half the cock was buried in her mouth, precum dribbling around it. With another thrust Amanda found herself unable to breathe, the huge organ filling her throat and windpipe. Stars burst before her eyes, as much from lack of air as pain, her anus and cunt screaming in agony with each thrust, and just as she thought she’d slip into blessed unconsciousness, the cock withdrew enough for her the gasp a breath, then thrust back deep.
Thinking was impossible now, her nose buried in the belly fur of the creature raping her mouth, as the other two pleasured themselves with her body. Somewhere in her mind, she knew it was a mix of hormones and vengeance, but for now all she knew was the pain of the rape and the agony of forced orgasm. She couldn’t stop wave after wave from washing over her, causing her to moan and scream around the thick shaft in her mouth, the three beasts chittering at each other as each orifice pulsed and gripped them, and to her ears, she could hear them laughing at her.
The one in her mouth came first, and she was sure she would drown as the foul tasting, burning fluid poured down her throat, into her stomach, filling her mouth and nasal cavity as he pulled back. The first seemed to trigger the second in her ass, and she felt hot liquid rushing up her bowels to meet its brothers in her stomach. Seconds after, her womb swelled as the third followed the examples set by the first two. The pressure suddenly eased from her lower body and the one in front of her pulled free, moving slowly past her. She silently thanked every deity she could think of, knowing now it was over. Until she felt another head pressing past the batter cunny lips, her anus opening to accept a second intruder, and the taste of her own bowels filling her mouth as the beasts switched holes, and proceeded to start all over again……
It continued throughout the night, each taking an orifice in turn, allowing her no rest, no relief of any kind, sharp claws keeping her from losing consciousness as she was taken again and again with the same brutality as the first attack. Sometimes one of the creatures would pull himself free at orgasm, the foul, cloudy liquid spattering her body, her bed, filling the room with its horrid scent. By the time dawn’s first light peeked through the blind, Amanda lay, half conscious, in a literal puddle of cum, blood, and urine, as the three horrid beasts cackled at her abused form……..
Amanda awoke with a scream of pure terror, thrashing in her sheets, causing the cat to shoot out of the room like a bullet and the parakeets to set up such a din that it actually made it past her sleep addled brain. She sat up, clutching the sheet to her body, eyes darting here and there, searching for………squirrels? She put a palm to her forehead and took deep, cooling breaths. She remembered now. She’d mixed up that, that concoction, the stuff that even now sat upon her bathroom sink, and had decided to get a good night’s sleep before. She looked out the window as one squirrel, just a squirrel, a small, furry bolt of chirrups and scampering, chased another past. She shuddered and raced to the bathroom, dumping the whole of the bowl’s contents into the toilet, spitting into the swirling water as it carried the mish mash away. She looked at herself in the mirror and shuddered. It might never have come true, and perhaps, in fact, wouldn’t have, but……but she wasn’t willing to bet her body on it.
Amanda changed a little after that night. Oh nothing major, she didn’t begin to dress to ensnare or man hunt, but she paid more attention to the men of the office, and eventually asked out a nice, if a bit scrawny, intern by the name of Daniel Thornburd out to dinner. They now live in that little two bedroom house in the suburbs, Mr. and Mrs. Thornburd, and that second bedroom is even now being prepared for a “bundle of joy”. The baby shower announcement carried one strange request, harmless enough, but in bold print, it stated that any stuffed animal they cared to give as presents were fine…….except for squirrels.