Bearing a Heavy Load - By Oreos the Choco-Vanilla Skunkette

I pulled into the lot of the warehouse and swung around, backing my box-van up to one of the long disused loading bays. People wouldn't question something as boring as an old, graffiti-stained van parked up against a loading bay, and I'd have plenty of cover to cut the lock on the roll-up door to get inside. I wasn't planning on stealing much, but I certainly wouldn't need to leave anything good behind for lack of space.

I set the parking brake and ducked through the cargo door into the back, closing it behind me before switching on the interior lights and rolling up the rear door. There was a bit of a breeze whistling through the gap between the van and the loading bay, but not so much that it would get too cold on a night like this, and the light was dim enough inside the van that it wouldn't attract any unwanted attention.

I unbuckled the cargo strap holding down my toolbox and unthreaded my backpack from it, setting the pack at the rear of the van before grabbing the bolt cutter from the toolbox. I chuckled a bit as I examined the lock I was dealing with: a specially hardened and reinforced lock that would be quite the match for anything short of a gas-powered chop saw. The lock probably cost a good $50, as best I could guess. I slipped the bolt cutter jaws around the $1.49 mild steel shed bolt it was locked through and snapped it off without even breaking a sweat.

I tossed the perfectly undamaged lock into my spare parts box to practice my lock picking later, and turned my attention back to the door. I knew there was no quiet way to open a cheap tin door like this, so I just got a firm grip on the handle and gave it a quick yank. I made a hell of a racket, but with any luck most of the noise wouldn't make it out of the van, and the rest would just echo uselessly around the empty industrial park, not giving someone who might hear it any hint as to which direction it was coming from.

I put the bolt cutter back in my toolbox and strapped it down again, just in case I might find myself wanting to make a hasty exit, and then hefted on my backpack and made my way inside.

I kept my flashlight low as I flicked it on and surveyed the room, finding it disappointingly empty with just a few rotted out cardboard boxes and bent shelves strewn about under a thick layer of dust. I wasn't exactly expecting to find king Solomon's mines, but I was hoping to be at least a little bit pleasantly surprised, considering that the last owner of the place used to run an S&M club up until he was busted on some bullshit drug charges.

But there were no bondage fixtures bolted to the floor, nor manacles hanging from the walls, and while the chain winch hanging from the ceiling could probably be put to some naughty use it was probably only ever used for lifting much more mundane things than cute squirming subs.

I knew it hadn’t been cleaned out, though. The warehouse was rented through a shell company that the courts couldn't reliably tie to the club owner so it had just been sitting here undisturbed since that whole fiasco went down. The prize I was seeking had to still be here somewhere, it was just a matter of finding it.

I slipped through a doorway out of the loading dock area, through a small office, and into the main warehouse room. I closed the door behind me and, after a quick double check to make sure there were no windows in this part of the building, grabbed a portable lamp and tripod from my backpack and set them up near the center of the room. I didn't want to risk messing around with the main lights and accidentally turning on a set that might be visible from outside.

I sat myself down beside my backpack and dug out a water bottle, cracking open the cap and chugging the contents before tucking the empty remains back in the bag. A bit of a breather was just what I needed to settle my nerves. Even though I wasn't really worried about things going wrong, for whatever reason being in an unfamiliar place that I'm not supposed to be in still gave my heart a bit of a flutter. I preened my tail a bit to work out the last of the anxiety and then set my leather jacket on top of my bag before starting my search.

I stood up and drew a deep breath, stretching a bit as the faint smell of leather, rubber and PVC just barely ticked my nose under the much heavier aromas of dust and cardboard. I started off down an aisle of boxes and started making a mental catalogue of what was here. I was in search of one very specific item, but if worse came to worst I could still pick up a few odds and ends to make the adventure worth my while.

Most of the boxes in this section seemed to contain a pretty boring assortment of the usual consumables. Lubricants of various styles and flavours, bulk boxes of condoms that had all long since passed their expiration date, disposable stockings and pantyhose. Nothing I couldn't pick up for a few bucks at the local mega-mart.

The next few rows over weren't a whole lot more interesting. Lots of generic dildos, cheap vinyl cuffs and harnesses and some costume-quality lingerie. Nothing caught my interest until I rounded the corner into a section piled high with bondage furniture. Whether I ended up finding what I came here looking for or not, there was no way in hell that I was going to leave without a few choice pieces from this collection.

I scrounged around and managed to find a rolling cart, and with about an hour of casual hefting managed to load up the van with all the best pieces of furniture that I figured would make nice additions to my basement dungeon at home. I felt a little guilty about swiping them but I knew the club owner had good insurance, and once he got out of the big house he'd have much more use for the cash than he would for a bunch of equipment he'd have to try to sell to get himself back on his feet. I was practically doing him a favour, right?

Once everything was strapped down securely in the van I made my way back into the warehouse to continue my search. I felt like I searched for at least another hour, occasionally grabbing an item or box here or there that happened to tickle my fancy, before I finally came upon the prize I had been seeking, in the only place on earth I would be able to find it.

The tape was still sealed on the box from the factory, and there was no mistaking the logo of BearingCo, the company name that few in the fetish community would ever forget.

The company only ever made one product, and it never even officially made it to market. By a rotten twist of fate some stupid girl who had been sent an early sample, after completely failing to read the directions, managed to land herself in the hospital near death with acute dehydration.

Now most folk who land themselves in the hospital after a mishap in the bedroom tend to be a little sheepish and keep to themselves about it, but it so happened that this particular girl was the daughter of a very outspoken conservative senator with an axe to grind against the adult and fetish industry.

To make a long story short the fallout from the whole mess was that the FDA classified the product as an unlicensed medical device and forced a recall of all units just weeks before it was to go on sale, which of course drove BearingCo out of business and ensured that nobody else could pick up where they left off. Just goes to show that all it takes is the stupidity of one idiot to ruin it for everyone.

But by a weird twist of fate, the recall was issued just three days after the club owner was arrested, and so his inventory was never accounted for in the recall, because it was sitting right here in this warehouse. When the FDA came to try to track it down, they ran into a dead end quagmire of government liquidated companies and poorly documented lot sales.

But here it was, sitting in my hands with nothing between it and me but the flimsy cardboard shipping box. The boxes were marked as containing twelve each, and there were at least three boxes right here in front of me, almost enough to qualify as a lifetime supply.

I loaded the three boxes on the rolling cart and turned the whole section of the warehouse upside-down looking for more, finding a fourth box hiding behind some trade show booth panels. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I would never forgive myself if I missed even one of these in a moment of impatience or haste.

After I triple and quadruple-checked that I hadn't missed any more boxes, I carted my spoils off to my van, loading them carefully in the back and strapping them down securely. I rummaged around and found a tarp to cover the boxes with as well, just to settle my mind from the absurd thought that I might somehow get pulled over by an FDA roadside check which I'm pretty sure has never actually been a thing.

I picked up the one carton I'd pulled from one of the boxes and turned it over and over in my paws, almost not believing it was real. But here it was, finally, plain as day. I knew there was no chance that I'd make it home, or even back to my motel before the urge to use it overwhelmed me, I'd planned on this being the case right from the start, so I grabbed my backpack again and found a reasonably soft section of carpet in the office and got to work.

I grabbed another bottle of water from my pack and chugged it down, dropping the empty back inside again, next to the first few I'd gone through already. Staying well hydrated was possibly the most important thing to do to keep me out of trouble.

I slipped out of my jeans and t-shirt and carefully slid my panties off my hips, depositing all three in a slightly disorganized pile next to my bag. I took a deep breath and sliced through the tape on the box, pulling out a vacuum-sealed foil pouch and a short sheet of instructions that I already knew end to end. I set them both down in front of me and cracked open a few more bottles of water, lining them up next to my bag.

I picked up the foil pouch and without a moment of hesitation peeled open the seal, pulling the two halves of the package apart to reveal the treasure inside.

To be fair, it didn't look like much more than a fairly long dildo with a bit of an oddly elongated flared base and a curious curve to the top half of the tapered shaft. I ran my fingers down it and shivered with anticipation, as I knew what its secret was. I was tempted to give it a little wet kiss to welcome it into my life, but I didn't dare mess up the hormone-laden dehydrated gel coating, as it was a vital part of the device's function. Besides, I was already more than damp enough downstairs, I wouldn't need any extra help in that department.

I didn't waste any time before I bent over, reaching down between my kneeling legs to part my folds before pushing the curved, tapered tip up inside my waiting sex. I pulled it firmly up inside me, helped along by the gel coating dissolving into a slick goo as it mixed with my arousal. It wasn't more than a few seconds later that I felt the rush of hormones hit me, making me feel desperately empty inside.

I pulled up firmly on the toy, aching for it to fill me deeper and fuller, but it bottomed out inside me only half way down the shaft. I knew that this was all just part of the procedure and that I'd have to be patient, but the lust and emptiness brought on by the hormones was making it quite a battle to keep control of myself.

I kept working the shaft in and out of me, using the flared base as a handle of sorts, the anticipation and excitement building stronger and stronger with each passing moment. Thankfully it wasn't too much longer before I felt just the slightest bit of yielding at the bottom of my thrusts as the hormones finally did their job.

I took just a second to catch my breath and then very carefully angled the curved tip of the shaft forward, pressing the thin, tapered end deep inside me against, and then slowly into my cervix. I bit down on my lip at the uncomfortable and unfamiliar sensation but the burning emptiness inside me kept my hands pushing upward, sliding the device ever further inwards until fully half its length was buried up inside my womb.

I held it there for a moment, the emptiness inside me showing the first slight hint of abating thanks to the shaft buried unusually deep inside me, but I knew this was only the tip of the iceberg, and I only had a few minutes left before I hit the point of no return. I pressed the base of the device up against the lips of my pussy and ground my hips against it lustfully, the purpose of its oddly grooved, elongated form making itself abundantly clear as its shape nestled itself perfectly into my sex, exactly covering it from tip to stern save for a small hole just over my urethra.

I held there for a moment, then a moment longer, hoping against hope that the device would work before finally feeling a twinge deep inside me. I shivered, my fur standing on end as just a few seconds later I felt a surge of fullness deep in my belly, and the strange sensation of my pussy suddenly going dry as the base of the device seemed to pull upwards against my sex.

I let out a huge sigh of relief, both for the device actually working and for the sensation of fullness starting to sate the burning emptiness brought on by the hormones. I still felt a few butterflies though, as I knew that this also signalled that I had passed the point of no return. The hard packed absorbent polymer in the tip of the shaft had started to draw moisture from my body and, so claimed the instructions, would be roughly the size of a softball inside my womb at this stage.

I grabbed one of the open water bottles and started chugging. I knew that over the next few hours I'd be going through the entire case I had shoved in my pack, and probably even more once I got back to the motel.

I could feel the swelling inside me continue at a slower pace now as the device pulled water from my body through my womb via osmosis through the stretchy membrane of the device. I rubbed my belly and wondered how long it would be until I could feel the lump inside me, or for that matter how big my belly would be once it was full size. I had never had children, nor did I intend to, so I really had no way of predicting how I'd carry this device, given it was intended to fill out to a "full term" size.

I yelped in shock as I suddenly felt a flash of heat across my sex, and by the time my hand reached my pussy the chemical reaction had run its course, the soft polymer coating of the flared base fusing itself seamlessly to my groin. I pulled a pocket mirror from my bag, but where there was once the delicate lips and petals of my sex, now there was only the smooth, featureless base of the device. I tried to pull it away experimentally, but it was well and truly bonded to me, there was no way for me to even work the tip of a claw under it.

I rubbed my hand back and forth over my groin, letting the reality sink in, only able to feel the brush of my paw tickle across the insides of my thighs, the device denying any and all external sensation from reaching my sex. I didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, as I started to feel my mouth growing a bit dry again, to which I responded with another bottle of water.

The next hour or two went by in a bit of a blur as my belly continued to swell, my mind swimming in a combination of the hormones from the device, mixed with those from my own body, and topped off with the constant battle against dehydration. At least I thought it had only been an hour or two, but by the time my head cleared and I looked at my watch it was nearly five in the morning and I was laying sprawled on my side in a pile of empty water bottles.

My mouth was still a bit dry so I pulled my backpack over to me and chugged down the last of my water bottles, scooping up as many of the empties as I could back into my pack before even thinking of getting up from the floor.

My head spun a bit with nausea from the sudden relocation of my center of gravity, but I fought off the vertigo as I managed to heave myself up into a sitting position. I looked down and there was no doubt now whether I'd be showing or not, as my belly nearly rested against my thighs. I looked like I was carrying a full litter of skunk kits, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

I yelped in surprise and let out a sharp moan as the shaft and base of the device suddenly sprang into life, the glucose fuel-cell activating a powerful vibrator in the shaft while a teaser of some sort rubbed against my clit. My hands shot down between my legs, but could barely reach the tip of my sex around my swollen belly now, not that it would do much good anyways, the base was still fused to me and would be staying that way for a full year.

The device had a built-in safety limit that would cause it to release a solvent that would dissolve the absorbent polymer as well as the adhesive in the base after one year from initial insertion. The RFID keys that would unlock it sooner were to be custom programmed upon purchase and delivered by the factory to the designated key holder. But given that the factory no longer existed... And let's face it, getting out early for good behaviour would ruin all the fun anyways.

I picked up my shirt and considered putting it on, but instead decided that my bra wasn't doing me any favours so I pulled that off first. I soon discovered the source of the discomfort, as I found my breasts has swelled out and were now heavy with milk. I groaned softly to myself as the unforeseen complication of having to pump for a full year sank in. There was no way out of it now, though, so I pulled on my t-shirt and resigned to getting a few damp spots on it until I got back to the motel and take care of them properly.

I dragged myself up onto my feet, quite wobbly from the extra weight and shifted balance, never mind the incessant teasing in my sex, and pulled my panties and jeans back on, letting out a soft whimper to myself as the usual sensation of the material resting against my groin was notably absent. I was at least thankful I could still button my jeans under my huge lump of a belly, even if they were riding a bit lower than normal.

I gathered up the remaining empty water bottles in my pack and waddled my way back into my van, closing the doors behind me and crawling past my piles of ill-gotten loot, giving a sideways glance at the few boxes of maternity fetish wear that I swiped before sitting myself down in the driver's seat and heading off back to the motel.