...Not the kind of wheel you fall asleep at...

Nipples the Squirrel

For Michele*

Once upon a time, in a land awash in nuts and acorns, a squirrel was born, and her name was Rita. She had a fairly normal childhood, skittering around parks, chattering with her friends, darting out in the street and freezing as a car came and then streaking back to the curb. When she turned thirteen, all this changed.

Female humans begin to go through changes when they near this age--they grow hair in strange places, their breasts begin to sprout, they begin to bleed. Squirrels are lucky and never have to suffer from these problems--perhaps that's why their chattering always sounds a bit like mean-spirited laughter when directed at humans.

But for Rita it was different--about the time she turned thirteen, she began to develop breasts... human breasts. At first they were fairly small and not very noticeable. She would just skitter quickly from tree to tree, her lower body slouched closer to the ground so that her newly changing form could go unnoticed. But after a few months, there was nothing she could do to hide it anymore.

She was developing into a DD-cup.

This was not good.

Her father had skittered out on the family in search of other trees and other places to bury his nuts when Rita was still young. She grew up pretty much fatherless, so it was her mother that she ran to with such problems. But there was nothing that Rita's mother could even BEGIN to think of doing to solve Rita's newfound dilemma. I mean, these were HUMAN BREASTS and they were on a squirrel. And not only were they human breasts, but they were the plumply seductive, glisteningly firm human breasts of your typical Playboy bunny.

Had Rita been a thirteen your old at a public school for humans, she would've probably been the most popular girl in the 7th grade. But this was not the case. Friends slowly stopped calling her. Mothers would cover their children's eyes when Rita ran by.

And needless to say, running quickly became a problem. Her legs were now about as effective as chicken legs on an 800-pound man trapped in his bathroom. Her mom had to make her special contraptions to wear on her feet so that she could navigate through sidewalks and grassy lawns. But they forced her to move slow and lurchingly, a bit like the Frankenstein monster. And the oddity of human breasts placed on her squirrel-body only emphasized this monsterly quality.

Getting up and down trees was also a near impossibility. Usually her Mom and her Mom's new boyfriend Willy would manage to help drag her into her sleeping hole at the end of the day, but sometimes she was too exhausted to even try and would fall asleep curled up around her massive breasts at the base of the tree, crying herself quietly to sleep.

When she was 14 and now completely friendless, some teenage human happened to notice her and her humongous breasts lurching through the park.

After that date, not only did she have to contend with her complete and total rejection from the squirrel community (her and her mom were driven out of their home at 3 am one night by squirrels chanting GET OUT, YOU ABOMINATION! and the base of their tree being set on fire), but she had to contend with human paparazzis itching to get just ONE picture of her for their papers. This also invoked the wrath of the squirrel community because their once quiet park was now abustle with constant human traffic--tree holes were getting gunked up with chewed gum, pop cans, used condom wrappers. Something had to be done.

So Rita took off for the city on the eve of her fifteenth birthday. She knew her Mom would object to her leaving, but she also knew that her Mom looked like she had aged at least 20 years just within the course of a few months from all the madness. So she knew it would be the best for the both of them.

She scurried into the city on a windy and rainy afternoon. The puddles swirled with rainbows of oil and trash clung to the curbs with a certain sad desperation that Rita understood.

This was the land of freaks and misfits, Rita thought to herself. This was the place where the underbelly of society thrived. Surely she could make it here.

And she was right. At first.

She was finally graced with a plethora of friends once again--squirrels were few and far between but the sewer rats and a few of the pigeons took to her immediately. There was one rat that was particularly fond of her--his name was Jim and he was the oldest in a gang of slick-backed, Marlon Brando-esque rats. He showed her a love that she hadn't felt from anyone but her Mom in a long time, and she began to spend lots of time with him.

He didn't just accept her human tits, he loved and admired them.

One Saturday night, in the city park, in the underbrush off the main path of joggers and horse-drawn carriages, she let him finally touch them. His sleek coat glistened in the moonlight as he ran his padded little paws over them--her nipples hardened in response. And then they made sweet sweet love--it was her first time, and minus a few fumblings and near misses (squirrels and rats don't fit quite so well together as one might think), she glowed with happiness.

She was soon swept up into Jim's world. But it wasn't until she was sufficiently sucked into it that she realized a few things about him, one of the most harrowing being that he had a major drug problem. At first it started out recreationally--him and his leather jacket-wearing cohorts would sneak into the apartments of the well-known drug dealers on 7th and dip into their stash. Originally, they would just nip a bit of bud. But this quickly escalated into full-blown nights of cocaine and heroin use. This was when she was introduced to Jim's other side.

One night, Jim was so strung out that he decided it would be fun to drag out his girl with the huge human tits and let his friends have a go at them. Rita was petrified. But she was in love with Jim and wanted to make him happy. This was when her drug usage started--she did a couple lines at the bidding of Jim to ease her into the situation a little more comfortably. And then she went off into the backroom with two of his friends at a time. The next morning, she awoke to a clouded memory and several rat-tooth bites on her left breast.

The drug usage and rampant promiscuous sex soon spiralled out of control--Rita started letting some of Jim's gang's archenemies fondle her behind the phone booth on 8th in exchange for a little bit more coke. When Jim found out, he beat her senseless. She awoke in the morning and knew she had to get out of there--he had begun to beat her on a regular basis and his friends would sometimes join in if they were drunk or strung out enough.

She ran off to a park on the east side of the city, determined to start anew. But her crack and coke habit was inescapable, and she found herself turning tricks, letting other rats and one squirrel with a terrible mange problem fondle her monstrous human tits in exchange for drugs. She finally cracked and realized she had to get help when she woke up one morning with a dirty pigeon named Ricky in bed with her and a rat's head placed at the foot as some sort of trophy. She screamed and sobbed and that was the moment she decided to run--to run and run and run and hopefully stumble into a new life.

Her running took her straight in through the doors of an NA meeting in the sewers of Chinatown--you couldn't run very far in the city WITHOUT running into one of these meetings. Once she took that step, she continued to improve her life--she spent a month getting through the withdrawal. A pigeon named Sandy that took to her because they shared similar backgrounds (Sandy was born with a large human vagina) got her through those times--held her hand while she screamed and sweated out the evil that she had been consuming for so long. And it was Sandy who gave her the nickname "Nipples."

After Rita had been in NA for a few months, she started a little place of her own in a tree at the edge of Smythe Park. Sandy lived there as her roommate--rent was high on this end of town so it was easier to split between the two of them. Sandy had been clean for 2 years, so she was a fantastic crutch for Rita and they quickly grew close. Sandy was the kind of person who didn't care what others thought of her--she had a huge human vagina, but she wore it proudly. Rita admired her and began to try doing the same. Sandy was sure to remind her every day how beautiful and empowering breasts were to human women and remind her that they could be the same for her as well--IF she really wanted it to be that way.

It didn't take long for Rita to realize that she was falling in love with Sandy, Sandy her crutch and her empowerer. She tried to ignore the feelings--she didn't know if Sandy was even into squirrels, much less WOMEN. But finally one day she cracked--Sandy had told Rita that she thought maybe she should move out, and Rita just let loose all the feelings she'd been hiding for such a long time.

Sandy looked shocked. She was speechless--something that Rita'd never before seen. And then Sandy leaned in and kissed Rita--she kissed her hard and with an unexpected longing that Rita'd never before sensed in her. Rita's heart and body and mind lit up like a million suns.

That night they made love over and over and over--Rita'd always been a bit freaked out by the concept of pigeon-squirrel interspecies dating, but no longer. Rita's human breasts had found a home, a place of love, a place of understanding, in the lips of Sandy. Sandy took her again and again and again, and it was sweet and it was beautiful and Rita's breasts hummed with an electricity never before felt.

Sandy and Rita continued to live together and sought out church that would perform a interspecies and intergender marriage ceremony for the two of them. On January 24th of 2004, they were wed. They went on to found a support group called FAWHP (Freaky Animals with Human Parts) and were amazed at the huge community response.

Rita felt blessed. Finally and truly. Her human breasts were no longer a monstrosity, a source of fear and awkwardness. They were a blessing that had led her to all this, and whenever she reminded herself of this, she wept a tiny bit and then gave Sandy that mischievous come-hither look and they'd worship them again and again and again, loudly and happily, throughout the night.

*Who emailed me to say "you should write more in your blog about your tits. I always enjoy those posts the best. Not that squirrel stories don't turn me on either, but only if they are girl squirrels. With tits."



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