Hoarders

Hoarders

Something silly by Anima. Fatal oral and cock vore inferences. Reality TV.

This week, on Hoarders: a middle-aged Kodiak bear has so many trophies in his home, they’re crowding him right out of it. His friends and family are beside themselves, and after over a decade of weathering their pleas to get help Tori has finally accepted he has a problem.

Dr McStuffins: Tori, first of all I want to tell you you’ve taken a huge step in reaching out and letting us into your home. I know this must be terribly difficult for you.

Tori: Yes, yes it is. But I have a problem, and I can’t let it get any worse.

Dr: Can you show us around the house?

Tori: Sure. Um, watch your step. There’s a lot of fragile stuff around.

[The front door opens onto what looks like a scene from the Paris catacombs, if they’d been designed and executed by some drunken teenagers. What had been a living room is now just a cramped tunnel lined with stacked skulls, some kept in place with sagging webs of duct tape.]

Dr: Tori, who were all these people?

Tori: Just meals. I don’t know most of their names, or forgot ‘em if I did.

Dr: If they meant so little then why keep the...leftovers around like this?

[Tori shuffles his enormous clawed feet on the scratched wooden floor, his discomfort so palpable even the viewer wants to flee the room.]

Tori: I dunno. I just have a hard time letting them go. I don’t keep them to remember them really...I just want to KEEP them.

Dr: This selfish hoarding isn’t uncommon in successful predators, Tori. What I encourage patients to do is to remember that even if you toss their bones, they’ll never escape from here,

[The doctor, a weirdly angular mink with a platinum blonde perm, reaches out to grab a roll of fat peeking out from beneath Tori’s shirt and jiggles it.]

Tori: Yeah, that’s true. I guess I’ll try to keep that in mind.

Dr: Let’s see more of the house.

[The skull-corridor splits and the pair move into the kitchen. The only sign that this is a kitchen is a patch of linoleum floor. Every inch of counter-space, the rest of the floor, the open fridge, the sink are all piled high with collars, underwear, bras, and the occasional shoe. A few fresh additions to the hoard still glisten with ursine slobber.]

Dr: If you don’t need the skulls, surely you don’t need these?

Tori: They’re just fun, you know? But yeah. They can go. Maybe donate ‘em.

Dr: Maybe you’ll even see them again that way, huh? Just be sure to keep setting them free!
[Tori smiles briefly, mostly for the camera’s benefit before crowding his enormous frame back into the skull-passage, heading down the hall.  He walked right past the bathroom but the doctor pushes open the door and flips on the light. Inside are tied-off condoms ranging from baseball-sized to ones that would overflow a 30-gallon trashcan. A few had silly faces doodled on them with a sharpie, making them look like slimes from a game or anime.]

Dr: Hold up Tori. This may be embarrassing but this is also something we have to deal with.

Tori: Oh. Yeah. I had a preservation rune placed in here so they’d all stay...fresh. This is actually sort of a business. I’m going to sell some of these.

Dr: When was the last time you sold one?

Tori: It’s been, uh… I guess it was awhile ago. Not sure.

Dr: Don’t you think you’d be better off with a bathroom you can actually fit into, rather than the vague possibility of some cash? Judging from how you fill out those shorts, it’s not like any of this is a finite resource after all. Or is there another reason you keep these around?

[Tori’s fur stands on end a bit and the pale skin inside his ears flushes pink.]

Tori: Not everything needs to be everyone’s business.

[The doctor leans in close to one of the largest condoms, her oversized glasses actually steaming up a bit from the perpetually-warm spunk trapped inside the soft latex. She straightens back up and gestures for Tori to lead the way again, turning her rather-obvious stiffened nipples away from the camera.]

Tori: This is my bedroom, and I really don’t want to part with anything in here.

[The bear sleeps in an enormous bed covered in sheets thick and rugged enough that they’d make great sails for a galleon. Bookshelves cover nearly every inch of the walls, and every shelf is crowded with skulls, all carefully labeled with names and dates.  Some even have a smartphone tucked beneath them.]

Dr: Ahh, now these are the jewels of the collection, the ones worth remembering, hmm?  Tell me Tori: we’d received several requests from friends of yours to help you deal with your hoarding problem, but none of them were available to appear on the program by the time you agreed to the filming.  Why is that?

[Tori can’t answer with words, and simply points to a less-neat jumble of skulls and phones on a shelf near the ceiling. Even with as many shelves as he’d bought, he was running out of room. The doctor stretches her lithe body up to read the names and nods.]

Dr: You see how destructive hoarding is? It claimed the lives of your friends too. They wanted to help you but wound up contributing to the problem. Did they become the pebble that started the landslide? Are they why you finally reached out?

Tori: I think so. I didn’t feel...as good, putting them away. They still enjoyed themselves in the end, but now my friends are gone. Well, they’re still here but it’s not like they can talk to me like that. Or this.
[Tori grabbed his own gut to give it a wobble, and the doctor nodded, walking over to place a paw on that stomach as well.]

Dr: Some things are more important than a meal and a new trophy, no matter how strong the urge is. We’re going to give you a clean slate if you let us, Tori. All these bones will go to a plant to be ground up into a nutritious powder for fertilizer. Given that the contents of those condoms has been well-preserved and you’ve checked out as a qualified donor, we’ll be handing those over to a sperm bank.

Tori: I really...no, but… ...Maybe a clean slate is best. If I have anything I’ll just want to collect more again.

[The doctor lets her paw slide down Tori’s belly and over the heavy package filling out his slippery athletic shorts. The camera zooms in on the motion, then jerkily pans between her face and Tori’s, coy eyes meeting wide ones.]

Dr: I’d like to reward you for making such a healthy decision. Why not add one more sac to the pile of donations in the bathroom, hmm? If we get it on film, maybe it will help launch that side-business of yours.

Tori: T-this isn’t ‘contributing to the problem,’ doc?

Dr: I’ve never wanted to be a trophy-wife, but take my trophy-life, my gluttonous stud.


***

Tune in next week when we meet Tanya, the hippo who can’t stop hoarding lovers...in her womb!

Tanya: Some people have polycules. Mine is more like poly-fill. And it cuts way down on jealousy issues. I always know where they are! And if they want to see someone else, I just shove them in too.

Dr. Lubeowski: And do you ever let the visitors go?

Tanya: What do you think?