Windfall: An Otter-Body Experience

by Tempe O'Kun

  She studied the grim expression so rarely seen on otter faces. “…You’re angry.”

  “I’m frustrated.” His tone rolled with tension, like a marble on glass. “It’s tough enough not being able to do anything. I didn’t need you to call my mother and ship me off to the homestead.”

  “I’m sorry, Maxie. I thought I could handle it for you.” She shrugged. “This isn’t going the way I planned, but were you ever gonna go back?”

  A quiet nod.

  Kylie eyed him. “When?”

  He crossed his arms over his breasts, which bounced more than dignity preferred. “As little and as late as possible.”

  “That’s harsh.” Harsher than she was used to hearing it. “They’re your family.”

  Lutrine jaw muscles flexed around a statement he stifled. “I was about to say something unkind. Am I in caffeine withdrawal?”

  Coffee math tallied up in her mind. “Is this the first cup you’ve had today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then yes.”

  He groaned. “Let me drink some coffee while you tell me about how you ruined my life.”

  Her freakishly-long arms allowed her to grab the cup of coffee from the breakfast tray and hand it to him. “Sometimes, the conversations we avoid are the ones we need to have the most.”

  “Yes. Thank you. I know.” His muzzle tipped down to sip the steaming liquid.

  She squirmed, then stopped when the bed frame creaked. “Are you mad at me?”

  “A little.” Still sipping, he looked up at her. “I’m also mad at myself because I let it get this far.” His breath stirred the steam and cast ripples across the dark beverage. “I was doing this balancing act with Mom where I didn’t want to upset her, but I also didn’t want to cave and go home. Now I’m caving and going home.”

  She paused him with a raised paw and replied automatically: “Just tell her it was me who said it.”

  Max’s eyebrows rose. He sipped more coffee.

  Considering her statement for a moment, she allowed her hand to drop back to her lap. “Yeah, it sounded smarter in my head. That wouldn’t work at all.”

  He handed her the cup. “If we’re going back to Joe’s shack today, I should get cleaned up.” Eeling off the bed, he scampered off to the shower.

  “What about your breakfast?” She sat up. Even a quick little bounce in this body squeaked the mattress springs.

  He trudged toward the adjoining bathroom. His voice lapsed into his Russian accent from the early seasons of Strangeville. “Is food now. Will still be food after I shower.”

  A gruff laugh bubbled up from inside her. “You can’t be that mad at me if you’re quoting the show.”

  He didn’t look back as he waddled into the bathroom and shut the door twice: once on his tail, then again for real. Faint scampering echoed across the tiles. The water sputtered on a second later.

  Laying on the bed, she contemplated addressing the bulge in her pants, but guilt nagged at her. Even after an orgasm, he seemed freaked out. Poor Max: everybody forgot how sensitive he could be. Even she did sometimes. Deciding to check on him, she padded up to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “It’s me.” Her knocks of unexpected strength bounced the door open.

  Cute little otter Maxie stood in the shower, hands on the wall, processing. He didn’t look up. Water coursed down his dark pelt, streams shifted and merged with even the barest movement. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” She poked her nose through the partly-open door. “Can I come in?”

  A weary chuckle echoed off the tile and glass. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

  He squirted a dollop of Pelt Plus into his paw.

  He rubbed the goop onto himself, only to have it run straight onto the floor. “The shampoo just slides off.”

  She used her new, rumbling voice to narrate an imaginary TV commercial. “You need otter-strength shampoo and conditioner.”

  “I’m used to being the reliable one, the muscle.” He wrapped his arms around his tiny body. “It’s weird to feel…vulnerable.”

  “Vulnerable? That body has no handles to grab onto. You can wiggle away from pretty much anything. Or escape by sea.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve caught you a few times.”

  “Oh Maxie.” She patted his shoulders. “I let you.”

  The otter rolled his eyes. A calming sigh left his supple frame, leaving his posture a little lighter. Water scattering off his downturned muzzle, he watched the glop of shampoo vanish down the drain.

  Taking off her clothes, she managed not to tip over, which was an improvement over this morning. She stepped into the shower behind him, placing a paw on his shoulder that nearly covered it. Her large body took up most of the shower stall. Pattering rivulets soaked her fur. She wrapped muscular arms around him.

  He allowed himself to sink into the standing cuddle. Then he wriggled, his tail bumping her crotch. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Yes.” She shrugged, rubbing her half-unsheathed dick against his tail. The wet fur brushed, soft and exotic, against her growing erection. She resisted the urge to hump.

  He buried his face in webbed paws. “Even as me, you’re ridiculous.”

  “We’ll worry about that later.” Kylie tried to relax, hoping it would be contagious. “Right now, I think you just need me to hold you.”

  He leaned back against her, tucking his head under her chin. “I guess it’s nice to be held.”

  Her paws traced down him, as she marveled at how well their bodies still fit together. “Yeah.”

  “This is super weird, though.” He patted down his long otter tummy, which scattered droplets in fine arcs in front of him. “I feel…out-of-place.”

  “Yeah.” Muzzle between his ears, she nodded. “Honestly? I’m starting to get sick of there being so much of me everywhere I look.” She stretched out an arm, amazed she could reach across the entire interior of the shower stall. “Your body’s weird too. It’s really strong, but it’s like gravity’s taken a special interest. I have to slow down my hands when I let them drop or I’ll whack them on something.”

  “It has a significant learning curve.”

  “I constantly have to be careful not to break everything. Or hurt you.”

  Her boyfriend nodded. “The key is to stop before you hear popping.”

  She chuckled against his ear. Hot water sloshed down her fluffy body. “Sound advice.”

  Under the hiss of hot water, a slow sigh rasped from Max’s muzzle. “What if we’re stuck like this?”

  Kylie shrugged, arms wrapped around his lithe form. “We won’t be.”

  His hazel eyes glinted up at her. “But if we are?”

  “Dunno.” She dwelled on the thought. “Guess you’ll still be the only person in the world who doesn’t think I’m nuts.”

  “True.” He snuggled back against her with a quiet, comforted chitter. The water bounced off his pelt and soaked into hers as he snickered. “I know it for sure.”

  3

  Joe’s Quonset hut lay stripped bare. Door open, every scrap of material gone, down to the last roofing nail. Faint drag marks on the floor dust all led to the door, the only sign anything had been there.

  “Where’d it all go?” Kylie dropped character, flapping massive arms up and down, cracking a knuckle on the ceiling and then snarling at the injury. As she cradled her paw, she spun around the darkened steel-and-concrete space. “Okay, seriously, what happened to all the boxes? The tools? The alien artifacts?”

  Max knelt to examine the dirt tracks. “Somebody brought a truck in.” He pointed a webbed finger at the trampled grass leading to the door. “Those shoe prints aren’t big or small enough to be ours.”

  “So literally any adult.” Her growl sounded very authentic, like she’d been a frustrated husky for years. “Can’t you use your farm dog powers to find who it was?”

  “I’m not currently the canine in this relationship.” His phone snapped pictures of the tire and shoe tre
ads.

  “Right. Right.” Angling her nose into the air, Kylie posed dramatically and sniffed. Wind danced across her fluff. Her ears flipped down as she turned to Max. “I don’t know how to be a dog.”

  He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s easier if you’re close to the smell.” He swept a paw along the ground and at the door handle. “Whoever did this probably touched the door a number of times.”

  Her mouth fell open in disgust. “I don’t wanna smell some weirdo’s hand.”

  With an extended blink, he unrolled a sigh. “Just smell the door, Kylie.”

  She crouched by the door, aimed her muzzle at the handle, and breathed in. “Okay, I think I smelled door.”

  “Quick little breaths, in and out, mouth shut.” His index finger lifted her lower jaw into place. “Panting can blow the smell away from your nose.”

  “I mostly smell grass. And dirt, I guess.” She sniffed again. “Grease. Maybe a little rust?”

  “Good.” He nodded. “Between deodorant, perfume, shampoo, and detergent, most people smell like something artificial. Smell anything like that?”

  Kylie took a very deep breath. Then sneezed. Hardly the cute little sneeze of an otter, the explosive woof rattled through the empty shed and into the woods. Birds took flight. Crickets unnoticed fell silent.

  With his tiny otter ears blasted flat against his skull, he turned to her. A deep breath steadied him. He steepled his webbed paws and pointed at the door. “Try not to sneeze. It can disperse the scent.”

  Sharp blue eyes cast him a glance. She returned to sniffing at the door around elbow height. “Okay, I smell a smell.”

  “Great! What is it?”

  “I have no idea.” Straightening, she propped large white paws on her hips. “I thought dogs could identify smells!”

  “We can. It’s something you practice.” His webbed hands paddled at the air for a metaphor. “Like telling wines apart by taste.”

  The towering husky scoffed. “No one can actually do that.”

  He sighed. “Focus, rudderbutt.”

  “I’ve been smelling everything since I got into this body. I’ve been trying to filter it out.” She rolled her eyes. “Now I’m supposed to focus.”

  Crossing his arms over unfamiliar breasts, he tossed her a questioning look.

  “Sorry, I’m not trying to be grumpy. I just keep forgetting your body needs to breathe constantly and giving myself a headache.” She sighed, heavy shoulders slumping as she rubbed her face. “How will this help us? No way I’m going to be able to follow this smell down the road.”

  “One step at a time.” He raised an index finger, a little surprised when webbing tugged the middle finger halfway up too.

  “Okay, I smell it again.” She looked around the Quonset hut and dirt tracks. “How do we know this smell wasn’t here before?”

  Still crouched beside her, her boyfriend closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to when they’d walked into the shed. “When we came here the first time, Joe’s shed smelled like steel, motor oil, old cardboard, dust, paint, wood, tar, plastic tarps…”

  Kylie blinked. “That’s actually really impressive.”

  Modesty squirmed through him. His thick tail wagged against the grass about a centimeter in either direction.

  She waggled a thick finger at him. “I still say Strangeville jumped the shark with that episode where you could smell things before they happened.”

  He rocked from side to side. “Aw, I liked that one. That’s like, the original canine superpower.”

  She rolled her eyes, only to be startled by a too-cloudy nictitating membrane. She blinked it away, then turned to him. “What’s step two?”

  “Wander around town until we find a truck that matches these imprints.” He held the phone up at her. “And/or you smell something.”

  “Very funny.” She rolled her head side to side, blocking the sun out with those erect ears. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Max just smirked. Then he started back toward the car.

  Still standing by the entrance to Joe’s storage shed, she threw her hands in the air. “At least tell me I don’t look that sinister when I smile with that mouth.”

  Windfall wasn’t that big of a town, but it had a large population of smells. Some fantastic, some horrible, all of them presented in high resolution and clamoring for space in her brain. Kylie worried people would think she was nuts, sniffing at the air every few meters, but nobody seemed to pay much attention to that particular activity from her giant canine body. But that didn’t help her sift through the smells any faster.

  After spending hours wandering around downtown, smelling everything, she halted with a growl. “I’m tired of being a dog. I only wanna breathe to get oxygen.”

  Her boyfriend crossed his arms over his breasts. “What do you think panting is about?”

  “The constant overheating, obviously.” She fanned the collar of her t-shirt. “And I can’t even swim because I’d probably drown once this fur soaked through. Or dissolve like a packing peanut.”

  He pulled out his phone, flicking to a weather app. “It is 12 Celsius.” He fought to stuff the phone into his tiny, useless girl-pants pocket. “And my body is not a packing peanut.”

  A pachyderm pedestrian happened to pass by for that part of the conversation and judged them both down the length of her trunk.

  Groaning, Kylie stroked paws down her jowls. “Mom’s gonna lose her mind when we tell her we found and then lost her cabinet doors.”

  Max perked his little round otter ears. “Think she’ll also lose her mental block against the supernatural? Then we could at least explain the situation.”

  “She could never be that mad.” His girlfriend rolled her eyes. “We could punch a hole in the house and, so long as we did it in a flying saucer, we’d be fine.”

  “Something’s been bothering me.” He furrowed his brow. “Whoever beat us back to the shed scooped it all indiscriminately. They had to be after supernatural evidence too. Most of Joe’s stuff wasn’t worth stealing…”

  Hopping over a curb, Kylie spun to face him and waved paws at her crotch while doing hip thrusts. “Ugh! What is up with the constant gymnastic routines in my underpants?”

  A mother possum cast a dark glance at her, then dragged her daisy-chain of offspring away from the rude display.

  Max rolled his eyes. “We’re in public. You can stop talking about your junk.”

  “Guys never stop talking about their junk. Except you. You’re weirdly modest about it.” Standing beside him, she gripped his shoulders and leaned in to deliver a lecherous combination of grin and eyebrow waggle. “Not that you have any reason to be.”

  “I don’t know what guys you’ve been listening to.” Her boyfriend sighed, but made no move to shake her off. “Please stop being lewd.”

  “It’s super distracting, though! Everything’s flopping around down there.” Bowlegged, she pranced down the sidewalk. “My balls keep doing this thing where they raise and lower without orders.”

  “That’s for temperature regulation.” Max folded his paws behind his back. “It’s a sperm production thing.”

  Head tilted back, she groaned. “Guys are so weird. You don’t see my ovaries doing pull-ups of their own accord.”

  He snorted. “Yes. Ovaries being known for only doing exactly what you want them to.”

  “Wait a minute…” Kylie paused, nose in the air. She stood before the front door to the Windfall Chamber of Commerce building. The scent led here. She was certain of it. Far more certain than she’d been when she briefly had a passing vixen’s musk fry her neurons. “Hmmm… I think…”

  Max watched her, hands on his streamlined hips.

  She smiled. “I found it.”

  “You found it?” He looked around and wiggled his ottery nose in vain. “You’re sure?”

  “Sure, I’m sure.” She nodded at the glass door. Invisible lines of smell-destiny led her there, even now.

  �
�You’re sure it’s…” He leaned around her to read the sign’s sensible font. “…the Chamber of Commerce?”

  Her massive paws curled into fists. “Max, we’re going in.”

  “What?” He waddled up beside her. “How?”

  She flashed a wolfish grin down at him. “Well, if I’ve learned anything from this, no one can physically stop your body.”

  He studied the front door and noted its lack of armor. “…Good point, but—”

  She swung the door open and stepped inside. The pleasant cool of air conditioning washed over her, reminding her how overheated she’d become just walking around on a sunny day.

  Real paintings and fake plants decorated the interior. The ionized tang of computers hung in the air, accompanied by the scent of paper. The gray, short-pile carpet scuffed under her every step.

  Behind the front desk sat a white rabbit. Her ears popped up. The rest of her body remained still as she studied them in silence. The nameplate in front of her read “Justine.”

  “Hello!” Kylie’s voice boomed in the enclosed space. “Looking for a load of weird stuff that got brought in here.”

  The door clicked shut as Max followed her into the office.

  Still seated, the bunny gave her a quizzical look. Were it not for the subtle tuning-in motion of those tall ears, she could have been mistaken for a statue. Her white blouse and black headset shone, spotless. Her dark hair was drawn into a tight coil at the back of her head. Dispassionate brown eyes studied the interlopers.

  “I’ll just talk to whoever’s in charge.” Voices perked Kylie’s own ears. Though the rest of the office sounded quiet, muffled conversation rumbled from a closed room, marked “Conference.” She pointed a thick finger at it. “In here, right?”

  Before she could take two strides to the door, the rabbit sprung out of her seat and scampered to stand between her and the door. For being only shoulder height on the husky, she sure put on an unflappable expression. Whenever the intruder reached for the doorknob, she sidled in front of her hand.

  “Excuse me.” Kylie moved the admin to one side with a slow, but unstoppable hand. Before the bunny could bounce up in front of her, she seized the knob.