Stored in the Balls

Luis Walker
9 min readNov 8, 2019

People ask me sometimes what the best part of being a tanuki is: is it the built-in shapeshifting, or the naturally-massive balls?

It’s kind of telling that they can’t imagine shapeshifting themselves nuts as big as they please, on top of whatever other horny attributes they wish they had.

Usually I give them my honest answer: I’m only part tanuki, so I don’t really have a lot of either shapeshifting ability or naturally-massive balls.

Then they look down incredulously at the beachball-sized bulge at my crotch that reaches down to the ground and keeps me from walking normally.

“Not natural,” I tell them, at which point most people mysteriously lose interest. I mean, sure, body mods are cheap and easy enough that most wouldn’t guess it, but I’ve actually been working hard to fill my ballsack this big.

Well…maybe work isn’t the best way to describe it…

I used to spend a lot of time sneaking into bathrooms. Something about watching guys do their business fascinated me, and I…wanted to be part of it.
When I learned I really could shapeshift a little — not much, not easily, and not without a lot of pain afterwards, but still, a little — I knew exactly what I wanted to try to be.

After I’d done enough practice in front of a mirror to make sure I wouldn’t be too recognizable, I drove to a mall the next town over and found a men’s room that seemed decently clean, on the second floor of a department store. I still remember how my heart was pounding that first time as I stood at the end of a row of urinals, facing the door of one of the spacious stalls designed for wheelchair users, and started to change.

Being part tanuki, my balls were the easiest part to change, so I focused on what would take more time: getting the rest of my body to look like unobtrusive porcelain. It’s always kind of claustrophobic at first, like being encased in your own skin, unable to move at all — at least till the change works its way through you and your muscles fade away and your brain stops complaining that it can’t feel them anymore.

It never was a very convincing change. When I’d been watching myself in the mirror, I could see that even though I could make myself a little less than lifelike, I still looked like me — maybe a version of me with washed-out color, and features obscured by several layers of ceramic, but still a far cry from the kind of full transformation someone like my great uncle could do.

The sound of footsteps startled me out of my concentration and back to myself more than once, and I was already aching by the time my body managed to change all the way through.

By contrast, my scrotum was full of tanuki magic and I could tame it immediately into the shape I wanted. It swelled outward and downward till it hit the floor with a tink, taking on the familiar shape of a urinal.

I stood there against the wall, a porcelain statue of a tanuki with a urinal between its legs, and waited to be used.

It was a long wait. I’d hoped to find a low-traffic restroom, especially for my first time, but I didn’t realize just how low-traffic this place was.

I was on the brink of giving up for the day when I heard footsteps, the opening of the restroom door, and a pudgy koala came and stood in front of me.

He didn’t pay me any attention — certainly he wasn’t around here often enough to find an extra urinal unusual — but just unfocused his eyes to gaze blankly somewhere behind my head, unzipped his fly, and fired away.

He wasn’t too well-endowed; his thumbs were more than enough to cover the length of his dick from view. But I wasn’t here for cock, and the stream of piss that flowed over my transformed nuts was more than enough for me.

The koala went on pissing for what felt like more than half a minute, the strong-smelling urine pooling in the basin formed by my scrotum. He put a paw on the wall behind me and leaned forward, panting, as though the effort were taking a lot out of him.

As his stream came to an end, he shook himself off and waited a few seconds to see if he had anything else to contribute, then looked me over to find the handle to flush with.

Crap. I knew I was forgetting something.

He grabbed my transformed cock and yanked it downwards.

Fearing he’d snap my dick right off, I popped back to my original form with a yelp. The poor koala jumped back startled and ran out of the room, struggling to keep his pants on.

Ugh, I thought. I ruined it. I hurried to get back into my clothes and split before the koala called security, but hesitated when I found I had trouble fitting my balls into my pants.

I looked down over my belly. My scrotum was indeed a lot bigger than it had been this morning. Leftover tanuki magic? I gave it a squeeze.

It sloshed.

My dick turned rock-hard immediately, becoming another obstacle to getting my pants on over what turned out to be a ballsack full of piss. I gave up, tugged my shirt down to keep me from being indecent, and scurried back out to my car.

The koala’s piss stayed with me nearly a week before — well, before my body finished doing whatever it was doing to get rid of it all and return my balls to the size they were before.

But I was already planning my next excursion. I wanted more. More than piss. More than one guy. More than hiding inside the form of an object.

I decided to host a party.

I was on a fetish site for folks into being toilets in various ways, and had made good connections with locals — even though I had mostly been too shy to do any actual meeting up.

When they heard I finally wanted them to come use me, they were excited. When they heard I was trying to get a lot of people to come use me, they were skeptical.

“You’re just gonna nope out after the first of us uses you,” was one response.

“Right, and as soon as you blow your wad under someone, you’re sending everyone else home,” was another.

(I didn’t say they were friends.)

In the end, I only managed to convince four guys to come — and of course only three of them actually showed up.

The first was Mark, a burly red-striped tiger with a bulge at his crotch the size of a soccer ball. He knocked desperately at the door, and when I let him in he immediately dropped his pants and hefted his obviously-augmented cock in my direction. “Can’t keep this load much longer. Where do you want it?”

I stammered a bit — something about how I wasn’t ready to be used so quickly — how I needed to change.

He moved into my space, looming over me. “You’re faltering. Need a man to take charge?”

“No, I just — ” Still unable to put the proper words together, I undid my own pants and grabbed the sides of my scrotum. Tugging on them with a bit of tanuki magic, I formed a porcelain basin at my crotch, my stiffening cock jutting out over it.

Mark looked like he wanted to ask questions, but the urgency in his bladder overrode them and he let loose his stream of piss as soon as he understood what he was seeing. It was a disorienting feeling, this gush of hot fluid swirling down my…well, I could only call it my drain, even though of course it wasn’t draining to anywhere.

There was just this blissful sensation of being filled. The basin wasn’t swelling in any visible way or anything, but I could feel it getting heavier. I shut my eyes and let it happen.

After about a minute, the gush of piss came to an end and Mark’s paw took hold of my dick. “Mmm,” he said. “Should I pull this to flush?”

I yelped out a ‘no!’ and jumped back, my scrotum returning to its normal material, if not its normal size and shape.

The tiger raised his paws to distance himself. “Understood. Sorry. Should I, uh, leave?”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I just…got reminded of a bad experience.”

He nodded, and eyed my swollen ballsack. I looked down myself — my nuts were bigger than his now, a sloshing bag of piss hanging down to my knees. I hadn’t even noticed he’d been pissing so much.

“Fuck,” he said, reaching down and pressing his own junk into it. “Think you can take more?”

A knock at the door made the question more urgent.

Mark let in a slender gray hyena. He hadn’t given a real name, but I recognized ‘Kyber97,’ who’d claimed it was going to be his first time. His surprise at seeing Mark’s augmented package doubled when he saw what was between my legs.

“Holy shit, nook…what did you do?”

“It’s full of my piss,” Mark said, standing behind him and helping him out of his pants. “Think you could add your own?”

Kyber’s expression turned hungrier. “Fuck yeah. How do I…”

The tiger grinned. “All he did was change his balls into something that could take it.”

Somehow his understanding made me blush.

“And then I just let loose.” He’d taken hold of Kyber’s dick and was aiming it at my balls, even though they were still flesh and blood at the moment. “C’mon, buddy,” he said to me. “Can’t keep our friend all pent up here.”

“What should I — ” I started, but Kyber just let loose, soaking my furry balls in his rank stream.

“Shit, sorry, I was too — oh fuck, they just drink it up, don’t they?”

Piss was running down my balls, but somehow none of it spilled to the ground — my scrotum just soaked it up, swelling with the extra load, its weight tugging harder at my groin.

“I wonder how much they can take,” Mark said, pointing his own fat dick at it again and firing a rush of piss that must’ve been three or four times harder than the hyena’s.

As he hosed down my nuts, I wondered how he could have so much piss in him, but then I realized it probably wasn’t just his outside that was augmented.

“Holy fuck,” Kyber said.

My balls hit the ground with a squelch like a waterbed being shoved. My dick reacted immediately, firing a load of cum over them that was likewise quickly absorbed.

I slid down to the floor, hugging my beanbag-chair–sized balls as they continued to grow under Mark’s relentless stream.

And then the doorbell rang and Kyber was letting in Dennis, an older canine hybrid whose fur was silvering around the edges and who was openly wearing a rather bulky diaper.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Mark said, nodding to him with the calmness of the kind of person who greets people using an adjoining urinal. “Hope you haven’t wasted any in your padding. This fellah’s thirsty.”

The canine looked down at me with a little bewilderment, trying to parse what he was seeing. “Not yet, but I can tell it’s close. Are you…?”

“Just keepin’ your seat warm. Go ahead and get comfortable.” The tiger squeezed his dick, bringing the stream to an end, and splashed me with the last drops as he tucked it back in his pants.

I started to protest being offered around like an object, but Mark gave me a ‘sure, Jan’ look and I knew I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dennis let his diaper fall to his ankles like he was about to sit on a toilet, instead resting his bare furry ass on my bloated scrotum. My balls slid to either side of him and he leaned on them like they were armrests.

“You make a comfortable throne, kid. Hope you can handle — ”

Before the words were out of his mouth, there was a blrt from under his tail, and I knew I wasn’t just going to be a urinal today. I watched the older dog’s back — as much of it as I could see over the curve of my balls — and felt the odd, almost gelatinous sensation of his fresh turds passing through my hide and floating around in my enormous sack.

It turned me on so hard, my dick wouldn’t stop firing. I’d never blown as much cum before as I painted the back of Dennis’s head with that day, while he used me as his toilet, while Mark looked on laughing at me and at Kyber, who covered his nose and ran away embarrassed.

My balls felt so full. I’ve never wanted them empty since.

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Luis Walker

I write kinky erotica involving fat gay furries. I might have some opinions too. Writing Twitter: