tagNonHumanThe Care and Feeding of Fur

The Care and Feeding of Fur


"Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. Here are your claim checks."

Samantha hands a stack of ticket stubs to the customer.

"Don't forget. You'll need these tickets when you come back to pick up your furs next fall."

"Yes, dear... Samantha..." The old lady squints as she tries to read the clerk's name badge. "I've been bringing my furs here for storage since before you were born."

Samantha blushes, slightly. "Well, these are some of the most beautiful fur coats I've ever seen!"

"I'm not getting any younger!" the old lady says in an informational tone.

"Mrs. Johnson, I don't think you're too old!"

"Don't patronize me! We both know somebody my age can't take care of this many furs the way a young woman like you can!"

"But, Ma'am! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend!"

"None taken." After a pause, the old woman continues. "Furs like these are a handful for anybody to take care of, let alone an old woman!"

Samantha looks over the collection of furs hanging on wheeled racks. There are dozens of them hanging neatly in rows. The coats are made from every type of fur imaginable. There are many full length foxes, several minks and beavers but, notably, there is one gorgeous, oversized chinchilla. She eyes each one, gingerly running her fingers up and down the sleeves. She pretends to inspect them as she slides the hangers along the metal rod.

"That chinchilla on the end!" Mrs. Johnson points out. "I haven't been able to take care of that one, properly, in years."

Samantha looks it over, acting as if she has been working with fur coats her whole life.

"I think it's the most beautiful coat I have ever seen!" she compliments.

"I don't have what it takes to handle a coat like that anymore!"

Samantha furrows her brow and nods her head. She tries to hide the fact that she has no idea what the lady is talking about.

"The last time I wore that coat was more than twenty years ago. Even then, it took all my strength!"

"It looks like a very heavy coat."

The expression on Mrs. Johnson's face changes. "You have no idea what I'm talking about. Do you?"

"Ma'am. I'm sorry. I've only worked here for two weeks."

The woman turns her attention to the man talking on the telephone at the other end of the counter,. "Mister Hedges!" she says, waving her hand in the air. "Mister Hedges! May I have a word with you?"

The man signals back and quickly finishes his conversation. He hangs up the phone and walks over to the other end where Mrs. Johnson and Samantha are standing.

"Mister Hedges... Ron... How long have I been a customer in this salon?"

"As long as I can remember, Mrs. Johnson!"

"How long has this young lady been working for you?"

"Not long, Mrs. Johnson."

"You can cut the crap, Ron." she interrupted. "You know my name. Call me Gladys."

"Yes, Gladys. She's been working here for about two weeks."

"Haven't you been teaching her how to care for the furs?"

"Why, no. She's only just begun her training."

The woman frowns for a moment as she surveys Samantha's sexy, young body. "A young lady as pretty as her doesn't know anything about furs?!"

"Things are different with kids, nowadays, Gladys. They just don't learn these things anymore."

"That's going to change right now!" she barks.

Mrs. Johnson motions to Samantha. "Take that big chinchilla you were drooling over and put it on!"

Mister Hedges tries to intercede. "But Gladys! She can't handle a fur like that! She never..."

"Baloney!" the lady barks out. "When I was her age I couldn't get enough of that fur!"

"Gladys, couldn't we get one of the other girls to take care of this one for you?"

"She's going to have to start sometime. It might as well be now.

"But she doesn't..." stammers Mister Hedges.

The old lady cuts in, "Do as I ask or I'll take my business elsewhere!"

Mister Hedges nods. "Go ahead, Samantha. Put it on."

Samantha takes the oversized chinchilla off the rack. Mister Hedges moves over and helps her slip it on.

"Oh! My God!" she gasps as her arms slide inside. "It's got fur on the inside, too!"

Samantha feels like she is being swallowed whole by the giant fur coat. Her whole body seems to disappear into a furry gray cloud. A musky, animal smell seems to surround her. She feels a tingle of fur against her cheeks while Mister Hedges pulls the oversized hood over her head. Her whole face is covered. She can see only a thin sliver of light at the end of a dark tunnel of fur.

"Fasten it up!" Mrs. Johnson orders. "Let her get used to it."

Mister Hedges fastens the front of the coat, wrapping Samantha in a tall mantle of soft, gray fur. It reaches clear to the floor. The sleeves are so long, her arms don't come all the way to the ends. Samantha feels disoriented, swimming in the giant fur coat. A brief burst of panic overcomes her when she hears a soft, low purring sound. It's almost imperceptible to her ear. It seems as if she's hearing it inside her mind.

Samantha's body tenses up and a chill runs down her spine at the sound she hears. A sudden rush of sexual energy overcomes her. She gets a sinking sensation in her stomach as warm, sexual impulses radiate from her pelvis, outward through her body. She luxuriates in the warm, snugly fur. Samantha closes her eyes and softly sighs with pleasure.


"Samantha, honey!" The old lady pats her on the cheek. "Are you awake?"

Samantha opens her eyes and looks around to find herself standing in the middle of the room again, without the fur. She looks around to get her bearings and to see what happened to the fur she was wearing. She eventually spies it hanging on the rack.

"Oh... Yes... I'm okay." she says in a dreamy voice.

"You see!" Pleads Mister Hedges. "She can't handle a coat like that! It'll tear her apart! Let me give it to one of the other girls!"

"Hogwash!" the woman says, sternly. "That fur LIKES her! It won't hurt her."

"Well, maybe we should let her start with some of the other ones first!"

Samantha stands there, gawking, as Mister Hedges and Mrs. Johnson argue back and forth. She has no idea what they are talking about. She listens, intently, trying to figure out some clue to their meaning.

Mrs. Johnson scowls at the man. She is not giving in. Mister Hedges tries to negotiate.

"One of the other girls will have to go with her."

"Only as long as nobody but Samantha wears my chinchilla."

He reluctantly agrees. He knows Mrs. Johnson will take her business and her money elsewhere if he doesn't follow her orders to the letter.

"You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Johnson!"

"This fur hasn't been fed properly in a very long time. It's going to take a pretty, young girl like Samantha, here, to satisfy it after all these years."

"It's getting lonely!" she adds with a grin.

Samantha looks at the pair, standing in the store, bantering back and forth. "What is this all about? What do I have to do?"

There is a pause. Mister Hedges begins to explain. "You see, furs have to be fed..."

"HUSH!" shouts Mrs. Johnson. "Don't tell!"

"But, Gladys!"

"It's better this way. It likes the taste of innocence! Besides, it already knows her scent."

"What happened to me?" Samantha asks. "I feel like I blacked out or something."

"That means it has already started to affect you." the old woman informs. "But don't you worry. Everything will be all right."

"When somebody tells me not to worry", says Samantha, "that means I've probably got something to worry about!"

"It's okay, honey. You're not going to get hurt..." says Mister hedges.

"ENOUGH!" shouts Mrs. Johnson. "Take her to the fur vault!"

Mister Hedges calls out, "Darcie! Come out here, please!"

"Yes, Mister Hedges?" answers the young woman from the back room. A moment later, she enters through the swinging double doors.

"Take Samantha down to vault number three and feed her... Umm... I mean HAVE her feed Mrs. Johnson's furs." he says with a stutter in his voice.

Gladys gives him a stern look and wags her finger.

An eager look comes across Darcie's face. "Oh, GOOD! I've been wanting to feed that giant chinchilla for years, now!"

"No!" says Mister Hedges. "Only Samantha!" He shakes his head. "Mrs. Johnson's orders!"

"But, I've worked here longer!" she complains.

"Customer's instructions!" he scolds.

"Well, okay..." she says with a pout. "Does she know..."

"Say nothing!" Mrs. Johnson interrupts.

"The innocence thing?" Darcie questions.

"The first time is the one you always remember." Mrs. Johnson nods.

Darcie nods back with a knowing smile.

The old woman puts her hand on Samantha's shoulder.

"I was just like you when I was your age." says Mrs. Johnson.

"I take that as a compliment, Ma'am?"

"Yes. Mister Hedges hires lots of pretty girls in the summer. Doesn't he?"

"We've got three vaults full of furs to take care of!" Mister Hedges smiles.

"You two have a lot of work ahead of you, then! What are you doing, standing around here?"

Mister Hedges motions to the doorway leading to the back room. "You hear the customer!"

"Yes, sir!" Darcie replies, smartly.

"The two of you take the rest of the day."

"C'Mon, Sam." says Darcie. "Let me show you the vaults."

Samantha just stands there in a daze. She doesn't understand a word of what's been spoken. She only knows that everybody in the room is hiding something from her.

"What is it that you're not telling me?" she pleads.

Darcie grabs her by the sleeve of her blouse and tugs her along. "Nothing!" she barks. "Just get your ass in gear!"

They each grab a wheeled rack full of furs and pull them along behind. The two young women exit the salon, into the back room. Without a word, they cross the store room. Metal wheels rattle on concrete. They open the outer elevator doors and slide open the safety gate. Darcie, Samantha and the racks full of furs move into the elevator. The outer doors and gate are slammed shut. A moment later, the mechanical sound of the elevator signals their descent to the vault level.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Mister Hedges and Mrs. Johnson converse quietly across the counter.

"You really played that well!" Mister Hedges laughs.

"Is she really THAT naive?" she chuckles back. "Where did you get her?"

"From the college." He shrugs.

"She's about to get a real education! Isn't she?"

"The biggest lesson of her life!" he replies. They both share one final laugh together before Mister Hedges bids the old lady farewell.


Darcie and Samantha exit the elevator and wheel the carts full of furs down the long dark hallway. They pass by two large, metal doors and stop at the third.

"Vault number three." informs Darcie.

She unlocks the door and swings it open. She pushes her cart ahead of her as she enters. Samantha hesitates to go inside.

"Get in here!" Darcie scolds.

"Why do I feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter?"

Darcie laughs. "Nothing bad is going to happen!" "Close the door behind you." she adds.

Samantha pushes her cart in then closes the door with a loud metallic click. She looks around the room and sees rows and rows of furs, all hanging neatly on metal racks. There must be a dozen aisles in this store room, each with as many racks stacked two levels high.

"Holy crap!" gasps Samantha. "Look at all the furs!"

"This is where they are stored in the summer." instructs Darcie.

The skin on Samantha's arms and legs starts to get goose bumps. She feels a shiver of cold move up her spine.

"It's cold in here!"

"Temperature controlled vault." says Darcie. "But don't worry. You won't notice the cold, five minutes from now..."

"Why not?"

"I'll explain in a minute" Darcie says, obviously evading the question. She pretends to straighten and fluff the furs on the rolling racks, ignoring Samantha's obvious nervousness.

"Do the honors, would you, Sam?" Darcie points across the room toward a row of furs. "Down there... Aisle two... Last bay... all the way in the back. Find an empty spot for Mrs. Johnson's furs."

Darcie hands Samantha a couple of the furs from one of the carts and sends her on her way. She nods obediently, turns and heads down the row. "Aisle two." she says to herself as she walks along.

When she reaches aisle two, Samantha discovers how close together the racks of furs are hung. There is barely enough room to squeeze between the rows. The furs she carries in her hands makes the gap seem even smaller. She pushes the coats aside as she enters. They swing apart easily then close together behind her when she passes through. The luxurious fur brushes her bare arms and legs as she wades in, sending a chill of pleasure up her spine.

Samantha searches for twenty or thirty feet along the row until she comes to an empty section. "Johnson" says the handwritten tag on the crossbar above the bay. She puts the furs up and makes sure they are hung neatly on their hangers then returns to the cart for another load. Darcie hands her two more furs and sends her back down the aisle.

"Only about twenty more trips to go!" Darcie says with a devilish grin. "I can never walk down these rows without getting horny."

Samantha blushes a little because she knows Darcie can tell she IS feeling horny. She tries to pretend she isn't affected by the fur and heads off down the row, another load of coats in tow. Several trips later, she realizes she is literally surrounded by a sea of fur coats. There are all shapes and styles. Some are long. Some are short. There are foxes and coyote's and minks and beavers and furs of every sort, all around her. There is fur, virtually as far as the eye can see.

Each time Samantha enters the gauntlet of furs, she must brace herself for the thrill she knows she will feel when she plunges in. She begins to walk very slowly, swaying her hips, to and fro as she goes, so that the coats swing on their hangers like pendulums. After several trips up and down the row of furs, she notices there is a wet spot developing in her panties.

Samantha turns around to look behind her to see if Darcie is watching. She can see her standing by the rolling carts, watching as she dances in the ocean of fur. She notices Samantha looking back at her and quickly pretends to go back to work, tending the furs.

"Just two more trips!" says Darcie. She hands Samantha another load of coats then points to the giant chinchilla coat, hanging by itself on the rack. "This is the last one."

"I'm tired!" huffs Samantha. "This was fun but it sure was a lot of work!"

"You're not done!" Darcie says with a strange tone in her voice. "The fun hasn't even started for you, yet!"

Samantha wonders what Darcie is talking about but she dutifully goes back down the row to finish the job.

"There isn't any more room!" Samantha calls out.

"If you can't find space in aisle two, look in aisle three."

Samantha searches all the way to the end of the aisle until she comes to a solid concrete block wall. She turns to make her way back down the aisle and continue her search in aisle three.

Just then, she hears a sound. There is a rustling noise in the fur ahead of her, followed by a faint growl. A shock of fear fills her as she heads back down the aisle where she came from. She pushes the coats apart, trying to speed her departure from the dark cavern of fur.

This time the furs don't give way like they used to. They feel stiff and heavy, almost like they are resisting her. She feels a presence in the fur. It seems to be stalking her as she struggles along. By the time she makes it half way back, the presence has caught up to her. Samantha's arms tire and her legs feel like rubber. She can no longer stay ahead of it. She sees Darcie standing at the end of the aisle with her arms crossed. There is a smile on her face as she looks on.

The furs get heavier and harder to move as she fights her way out. Soon, it is impossible for Samantha to budge them at all. She tries to turn around and push some of the furs behind her out of the way. They hold fast. She is trapped! She can't move forward and she can't go back.

"Darcie! Help me!"

She just stands there, smiling and watching as Samantha struggles with the furs.

Fear turns to panic as Samantha feels movement in the fur around her. The growling noise gets louder. It is coming from the fur! She pushes and fights with the fur as it closes tightly around her, locking her so firmly in place she can hardly move.

"Darce! HELP!"

Darcie just grins, with a jealous, almost trancelike look on her face as she watches her coworker struggle with he fur. Still, she says nothing.

Samantha feels a tug at her blouse. An unseen hand is pawing at her clothing. She tries to wrench free but, as quickly as she pulls away, another furry hand takes its place. Soon, it feels like there are a dozen furry appendages, holding her in place, pulling at her clothes.

She screams in terror when the fur coats all close in on her and swirl around, forming a mass around her struggling body. She feels the buttons of her blouse pop open, one by one, as the fur coats tear away her garments. A sensual softness advances over the surface of her exposed skin as mounds of fur slide over her bare midriff.

Samantha's feet are lifted off the floor and her shoes are pulled off her feet. Soft fur wraps around her feet and ankles, holding them fast. She tries in vain to kick her legs free. Her blouse falls away. More fur grips her wrists, pulling her arms up above her head.

Without the use of her hands, Samantha can not fight off the fur as it slides her skirt down, over her hips. The fur strokes up and down her back, as if it is teasing her. Samantha renews her fight against the fur coats as they continue to methodically strip her naked.

"Darcie! Why won't you help me?" she pleads.

"You are doing just fine." Darcie giggles.

"What do you mean, 'Just fine?'" Samantha wails. "These damn things are ripping my clothes off!"

"That's the whole idea..." Darcie replies.

Samantha feels soft fur surrounding her firm breasts. Her bra falls away, lost in the pool of swirling fur. She pulls her hands free from their restraints and tries to recover it but quickly gives up. The sensation of hundreds for fur coats, all rubbing themselves against her naked torso, overcomes her. Her nipples tense up as fur rubs itself around and around her breasts. The feeling is exquisite!

Several more hands begin to tug at the waistband of her panties. Samantha tries to reach down to prevent them from being pulled off. More and more furs begin tugging and pulling at her waist, trying to remove the last of her undergarments. Try as she might, she is unable to prevent her panties from sliding down around her ankles. Only seconds later, they slip off her feet to be devoured by the fur.

Samantha lets out a gasp of pleasure as she feels fur sliding up and down along her backside. It caresses the crack of her ass, gently tickling her. She kicks and giggles and squirms as it tickles her all over, finding every sensitive part of her body. There seems to be a laughing sound coming from the depths of the fur as it tickles her to oblivion.

Darcie sees an expression of surprise on Samantha's face. She struggles against the fur to prevent her legs being pried apart.

"Oh, my GOD!" she gulps out.

"What's wrong?" Darcie asks.

"They're doing... THINGS... to me!"

Darcie laughs out loud. "What kind of 'things?'"

Samantha forces her hands between her legs, trying in vain to protect her mound from the onslaught of fur.

"They're trying to get in my pussy!"

"Go ahead! Let them!" Darcie replied in a matter of fact tone.


"That's what you're here for... To feed the furs!"

Samantha lets out a screech as the fur pulls her legs farther apart and begins creeping up her thighs, toward home base.

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