Story – Tiffany’s Dreams: Beat The Mitt – Part 1
Tiffany’s Dreams – Beat the Mitt
Part 1 by FurCreamer
Tiffany drifted off with the soggy remains of a large overstuffed black fox muff stuck to her thigh with the results of a particularly forceful orgasm. The gluey white remains of her violent ejaculation coated almost half the entire 14 inch long hand warmer, which, though intended for fashionable winter use, had just been pressed into service to take care of her raging 15 inch fuckspear. Her big round tits heaved up and down regularly as she drifted off to a peaceful nap. The remains of the black fox fur muff steamed against her sculpted torso; her cock semi-flaccid, resting in the puddle of goo plastered to the muff and her right thigh.
On the television in front of her a vintage 80’s episode of a game show flickered on, with Vanna in a large full length golden isle fox coat.
As the TV receded from conscious thought, this is what she dreamed…
* * *
Loud music blared as the yellow glow of graphics flashed over the screen. The announcer’s booming voice called out as the title appeared. “Now it’s time for another edition of the world most popular game show… BEAT THE MITT!”
The intro packaged played, clips rolling in rapid succession via a cheesy “film reel” effect that ran a few degrees askew from top to bottom as the announcer continued. Highly overproduced and over synthesized music blared through over the roar of applause from the studio audience; everything a classic game show required.
The announcer’s voice continued: “If you can resist the mitt, you can win a fabulous prize! Just last 20 seconds and it could all be yours, if you-”
The applause of the studio audience emerged from behind the opening video package as that faded and the camera swooped in on the studio from above, audience voices in unison joining the announcer:
“-BEAT”
“THE”
“MITT”
The audience chanted in unison, as prompted by the screens over the stage, then broke out into sustained applause as the announcer completed the show’s into.
“Now, the host of Beat the Mitt, Brandy Balldrainer!”
On stage a large mink curtain swept open as applause peaked and Brandy walked out. She sashayed with a practiced wiggle that required a natural ability atop six-inch, platform-heeled, thighboots. On today’s episode Brandy wore a short fuchsia dyed fox bolero jacket, which made up for its lack of length with giant sleeves ending in barrel muff sized cuffs and a collar that rose almost a foot high around the back of her head. Her teased out high blonde bouffant rose higher still, though.
Open, the fox bolero jacket framed Brandy’s trademark jugs, which wobbled back and forth with the motion of her hips. The two soccer ball sized tits merged from the supreme effort of a tightly wrapped tube top that terminated without completely covering the upper rims of her areola. Her erect nipples budded through the stretched fabric less than a half inch from the top edge.
Brandy’s leather ultra-mini-skirt similarly failed to completely eclipse the lower curvature of her bubble butt. The two round slivers of exposed ass were encased like the rest of her legs in a pair of sheer nylons.
Brandy, bubbly like the ass behind her, gushed as she greeted the audience. “Welcome! Welcome to another episode of Beat the Mitt!” She made her way back and forth across the stage, waving and smiling through her pouty red lips and painted porcelain complexion. “Alright, let’s meet the contestants!”
Brandy walked over to the three stands, comprised of flashing lights in the shape of an erect penis. Each of the microphones rose from a short fountain of cum rendered in neon lighting.
The announcer filled in the studio audience and the millions watching around the world as the camera flashed to each contestant in turn.
“This is Drake, he’s a teacher from Rancho Cucamonga. Drake’s interests include gardening, origami, and jerking his nine inch cock with his wife’s fur coats!”
“Marvin is a retried mechanic from Spokane. He still volunteers at the VA in his spare time, likes reading, and blasting fur coats with his 10 and half inch cock!”
“Finally there’s Richard, an ‘activist’ from LA. Richard says he’s got a secret weapon to win the game, and we hope he’s talking about his foot long cock!”
Brandy strut sexily over to the contestants as the intros finished, hitting her mark as always when the camera zoomed into her huge rack, then up to her painted features. She whipped her note cards from the pocket of the fuchsia dyed fox jacket and arranged them as she stood beside Drake. “So, Drake, how’s the gardening out in Rancho Cucamonga? Plow a lot of fields with that nine incher?”
Drake nodded, “You bet, Brandy, right through the wife’s fur closet.”
Brandy slapped his shoulder, “Drakie, I hope you managed to keep it in your pants for the past few months, since we all know the smart strategy is going for second prize in this game!”
“Sure thing, Brandy!” Drake replied eagerly, eyes locked on the huge tits that bounced just inches from his face.
“Well, Drake, I’m sure you know what you’re up against, but let me explain our game for the folks at home if they’re just tuning in… or somehow haven’t yet seen the most popular game show in television history!”
A round of applause followed as a raised platform rolled out onto the stage opposite them. In the center of the platform was a large chair, upholstered in a fluffy brown sable. Beside the chair stood a tall woman, wearing a full length blue fox fur coat. Beautiful and blonde like Brandy herself, the woman’s coat was similarly enormous, with a generous flowing train that rolled down the platform steps behind her, two huge round cuffs, and a generously full collar that surrounded her chin and cheeks with silky soft fur.
Brandy addressed the camera, explaining the game almost on autopilot as she had done this so many time before. “Here on Beat the Mitt, the rules are simple. Constants just drop their pants, have a seat over there, and… this is the tricky part folks… keep their load all safe and sound for 20 whole seconds while being jerked off with… THE MITT!” Brandy swung her arm theatrically outwards towards the platform, pointing with the edge of her note cards as she did every night.
The blonde on the platform raised her right hand, which she had previously hidden behind her back. The end of the big blue fox cuff met a shining chinchilla mitt which sheathed her right hand completely. Spotlights focused on cue, lighting up the mitt in a harsh glare as the audience again roared its approval.
“Seems simple, right folks? Well, this is show 8,053, and it’s not happened once! Not even for…”
The announcer picked up Brandy’s beat, “… 500 million dollars!”
The audience went wild.
Brandy continued after the applause died down a bit. “Yes, will history be made tonight? Who knows?” she said, while playfully shaking her head in the negative to the camera. “Now, now, as you know, you have to beat the mitt, survive the full 20 seconds, to win the big money, it’s not best time… But we do have a fabulous second prize that’s guaranteed to be awarded tonight to the most deserving contestant!”
Again the announcer’s voice appeared on cue, “A 1 million dollar gift certificate to the Beat the Mitt fur vault!”
The audience cheered once more.
“That’s right, not a bad haul for ’second place’, and how to we make sure that a million dollars worth of fur are in the best of… dicks? Well, that’s because second place goes the contestant who cums the biggest load!”
Brandy paused for the applause.
“That’s right, whoever has the biggest nut will take home that gift certificate, where they can use that ejaculatory prowess on a wide selection of the biggest, most extravagant furs in the world, direct from the Beat the Mitt vault!”
Brandy again waited for the studio audience’s applause to subside. Making a show of looking at her note cards while the cheers died down.
“Now, finally, tell us who tonight’s guest stroker is!”
“Star of film and television, known the world around as a lady that really rocks the fox, Morgan Goodchild!”
A final audience pop while Brandy nodded to Morgan, who smiled back with a pearlescent glow from the studio lighting, holding her chinchilla mitt up high once more, her huge blue fox coat sparkling like her smile. The guest star stroker nights always goosed the ratings a bit, though star candidates who wanted to boost their profile by appearing on the show had to endure a rigorous testing process to make sure they could work cock to the show’s rigorous standards. Brandy watched Morgan milk ten cocks in a row during her tryout to appear on the show, she was a natural at it. The try-out mink she wore was drenched from cuff to collar by the time she was finished.
Brandy spun back to Drake, “Okay, you seem a little eager Drakie, probably not the best frame of mind to be in if you’re going for the big prize tonight!”
“Fuck that, I’m gonna soak that thing like you’ve never seen Brandy! I want that gift certificate!” Drake enthused.
“Okay, Drakie, I’ve seen some gushers in my day, but let’s see if you can…”
The audience joined in on cue.
“…BEAT”
“THE”
“MITT!”
Comments
This entry was posted on Thursday, October 22nd, 2009 at 10:21 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
1 Comment so far
The Love Of Furs
FurLayers
awsome so far need to read it all