It is important to have goals for your life.

My goal for my life is to eat the feces of as many different fur species as possible.

(If you are reading this and you are an uncommon species and you would be willing to shit in or on a very stinky skunk, please come visit.)

Anyway .. today I managed to add one more species to my list.

Today was the day of the fossa.

I have met a few fossa before. They're not really bigger than skunks, but they're tough and mean and very bitey, and there's no way I was going to be able to dominate one into feeding me.

For other predatory species I have relied on finding one that was horny for skunks and letting them take me home for raping so long as they promised to shit in my mouth at least once. But so far no fossa had been interested.

(Fossa are also hot as hell. I would have gone with one even if all they wanted was regular sex.)

But today I met Tocsin.

I was hanging out in a smelly corner (it was smelly before I got there, honest) of the dirtiest tavern in town, which is down by the docks and a good place to pick up horny strangers when you're stinky and bored.

The fossa managed to arrive at my corner before I had noticed him. I gawped at the sexy brown-furred figure standing before me; his naked body showing off his lean, powerful physique, large prominent sheath and heavy balls, long swishing tail under which (I couldn't see but was very much aware of) the perfect pucker of his asshole.

I may have drooled a bit.

He also had a face, lovely pointy toothy snout and a nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell of my corner (or, more likely, of me).

"Fuck, skunk, you stink," he said.

It was not a promising start.

I nodded.

"I'm a skunk," I told him.

The fossa looked at me like I was an idiot. Which I was. Stupid brain.

Surprisingly, the fossa didn't immediately leave.

"Sorry," I said. "Umm .. can I help you with something?"

"Yeah .. maybe," he replied. "I'm looking for someone .. stinky .. to help train my lemurs."

I blinked at him. He continued before I could find words for a response.

"All I need is for you to let my lemurs fuck you. You'd be paid." He looked me over thoughtfully, "..or you could have some lemur time for anything you wanted to do."

I stared at him.

My brain had a lot of questions. I picked one, and hoped I wasn't being an idiot again.

"This is .. training?"

The fossa nodded.

"They are being sold as studs. They should be able to fuck anything their owner wants, however unpleasant."

I snorted. Now he was just being rude.

The fossa shrugged.

"You know what you are, skunk."

I stared at him some more (he was good to look at). There was one question I was desperately wanting to ask, but I wasn't quite sure how.

"I'll do it if you shit in my mouth," I said.

"No!" the fossa snapped.

Well.

That was disappointing.

..

What now?

My nose interrupted my thoughts.

He's lying, it told me.

What?

He's lying. He thinks he doesn't want to but he really does. I can smell it on him. Look at his sheath.

(This is not a conversation that really happened, of course. My nose communicates things to me, but it's all a lot less verbal.)

I looked at the fossa's sheath some more. It was definitely getting plumper.

"But you want to," I told him.

He growled at me. Lots of dangerous-looking teeth.

He wanted to, but he didn't, because..

Because.. what?

Nobody cares if a predator-fur chooses to abuse the mouth of some pretty thing (or skunk) they've picked up for play. If that was what he wanted, he would just do it.

So .. that wasn't what he wanted. Not quite.

Oh...

".. no!" I continued, triumphantly. "You want to be the one who eats it! You want to, but you don't, because you think it's wrong. They told you.."

"SHUT UP!" The fossa's paw slammed against the side of my face, knocking me back against the wall, claws raking down the side of my snout, tearing a bloody chunk from my nose.

Fuck, that hurt.

The fossa stood over me, panting, blood (my blood) dripping from his extended claws.

"Go now, skunk."

I picked myself up, slowly getting back on my feet. My snout throbbed, blood running from my torn nose (I could smell the blood, so at least my nose was still working.)

Walk away, said the sensible part of my brain. He could kill you without breaking a sweat.

But .. life goals.

"You should never not be who you are because of what other people think," I said.

The fossa blinked.

"I..." he began.

I realized that my brain had somehow managed to say something useful. (Yay skunk-brain!)

"Wait here," I told him.

The fossa seemed bemused. I left before he could take violent exception to being given orders by a skunk.

There were plenty of foxes around the tavern. I grabbed the first one I found that wasn't already being used.

"Is your bottom full?" I asked.,

"Umm .. it's full of my shit?"

"That's what I want. Come."

I led the fox back to the smelly corner.

The fossa was still there. I hoped this was a good thing.

I pushed the fox down onto his belly over the small table, took hold of his tail and pulled it up to expose his anus. I took a moment to look over his hole, nicely dirty and smelly, my nose twitching as it took in his scent, potent and rank with his vulpine musk.

"Give me your shit, fox," I told him.

Obediently, the fox started his toilet, I watched his pucker bulge and open, moving my paw underneath to catch as he pushed out a fat brown fox-turd. It landed warm on my paw, moist and softly glistening, deliciously rank and stinky.

I turned to the fossa, who hadn't moved. He was staring at me, his expression unreadable, but his scent and other parts of his body indicated a growing arousal.

I locked eyes with him, lifted the stinky fox-turd to my bloodied snout, and let it slide slowly into my mouth.

Fox-shit. Foul, intensely rank, deeply musky. My body responded as it always does, a thrill of excited arousal rippling through me as the dirty flavors of vulpine feces filled my mouth. I chewed, messily, letting the fossa watch, lifting my head to swallow, my furry body shuddering as I took the fox's waste down my throat.

I looked at the fossa, licked my tongue slowly around my snout, tasting my own blood mixed with the fox's filth.

"Your turn," I said.

The fossa stared at me. There was quite a lot of fossa-penis showing out of his sheath now, and his tail flicked slowly, but he didn't move.

"I'll take it all if you don't hurry up."

(Brain, what are you doing? Did you just start a dominance challenge? With a fossa?!)

The fossa's paw landed on the fox's back. He growled at me.

"This is my fox, skunk."

I backed off a bit. The fox eyed the fossa uncertainly.

I was closer to the fox's head now, so I crouched and whispered quickly into his ear.

"More shit, fox."

The fox's asshole opened again, pushing out another fat, smelly turd. And the fossa's paw was there to catch it.

The fossa lifted the fresh shit-log to his nose and sniffed. His nostrils flared, a sure sign that his nose was finding the foul aroma interesting.

He stopped.

"Don't think. Do it," I urged.

He snarled at me. But he was fully aroused now (my nose confirmed from the smell of him), acting more on instinct than from thinking. And his instincts wanted this.

He put the fox's feces in his mouth.

I watched his face.

Disgust. That was an easy expression to read. 'What the fuck have I got in my mouth?'

I realized that I had just convinced a dangerous predator to eat fox-shit, and if he didn't like it, he would probably kill me.

Arousal. Confusion. 'Why is my body doing this?' (I know that one.)

Lust.

I shooed the fox away while the fossa was .. distracted. This was my fossa now. Whatever he was going to do next, he was going to do it with me. Or to me.

He moved so fast. Knocked me down, down on all fours on the dirty floor. I barely had time to move my tail aside as he mounted and covered me, his hot furry body on my back, his arms around to hold me, digging his claws in below my ribs.

"This is going to hurt, skunk," he growled into my ear.

He bit my shoulder, sinking all those sharp, savage teeth deep into my flesh, and thrust. Hard. Forcing his fossa-cock deep into my stinky bottom.

I screamed.

I learned a lot about fossa cocks over the next few minutes. They have knots. Two knots. And barbs. Tiny sharp spines all over to 'stimulate' the female.

('Stimulate' means they hurt.)

And they are fucking enormous.

I could take the knots. They were not the biggest things I've ever had in my bottom. They were more painful with the barbs, but the worst was when the barbs would catch my sprayers, the sensitive nipples of my musk glands inside my anus, sending savage jolts of pain stabbing through my body, and if I moved at all the fossa bit down harder, cutting deeper into my flesh with his teeth.

Another savage thrust caught my sprayers, and I screamed again. And then .. I felt the fossa's body tensing over me, his arms squeezing tighter, his crotch pressed hard to my rump .. and, inside my bottom, his cock jerked and pulsed hotly in climax, spurting his slimy fossa-seed into my body, his lustful climax into my dirty, smelly skunk-bowels.

Chrrr...

He rested on top of me (and inside me) for a long time. I listened to his breathing, his panting from his climax slowing to a more regular breathing rhythm. My body was almost not hurting any more by the time he lifted himself and pulled his softening sex from my asshole.

(It hurt again coming out.)

The fossa's monstrous pink sex was covered in my shit and musk, and some of my blood. He let it slip back into his sheath like that, unwashed, still filthy and stinking from his rape of my bottom.

He looked at me.

I turned over, sitting and leaning back on my arms, and stared back at him.

(Still so sexy.)

I licked my lips.

The fossa chuckled.

"Okay, skunk, I think you've earned this now."

He stepped over me, paw going to the back of my head to lift and push my snout to the dark space beneath his tail.

His pucker was almost as perfect as I had imagined. It could have been dirtier, but it was smelly enough, reeking of his spent lust and carnivore musk.

I stretched my tongue out and licked his anus.

The fossa growled, squeezing my head with his powerful paw.

"No licking, skunk. Just keep your mouth open."

I held my mouth open under his anus. His gorgeous, sexy, smelly anus. He farted, noisily, giving my nose a stronger, dirtier scent from his bowels.

And then .. then .. there was his shit coming out, foul and pungent, a long brown fossa-turd from his asshole to my mouth.

My first taste of fossa-scat.

I licked, bit into his shit, digging my tongue in to taste the dark, musky foulness inside.

I licked, pressed his filth against the roof of my mouth, squeezing out the rank, bitter juices of his waste.

I licked, and swallowed hurriedly, for the fossa was still continuing his toilet and there was another long, stinky turd needing space in my mouth.

The fossa emptied his bowels. I ate all of his shit and whined at his asshole for more.

"You .. are disgusting, skunk," he said.

"I know," I replied.

We talked for a bit afterwards. He told me his name was Tocsin, and he had a ship full of lemur studs and slut-slaves to sell. He would be staying for a week or so.

I decided on a new life goal (at least for the next week or so). Eat as much fossa-shit as I can fit in my stomach.