Striped Success

A TransCo subsidiary motel chain turns a young woman into a confident business-skunk. Explicit. A young woman staying at a hotel before a business conference turns into a confident, professional skunk-girl. Explicit.

It was the end of her New York-to-Chicago car drive. Tori just wanted to fall asleep, but every hotel near the conference center was booked up tight, and the closest hotel she'd been able to find on short notice was the one-star Come On Inn. Carrying her suit for the conference tomorrow and her backpack, she stepped into her room. It smelled like cigarette smoke. They didn't have any non-smoking; she'd asked.

'Welcome to the Come On Inn, a TransCo subsidiary!' a typo-laden note on the bedside stand began. Tori sat on the edge of the bed and read the note between groggy blinks. It offered her to 'Please make use of the complementary hair freshener.' She looked back at the stand, where a small, blank, white box sat. She popped it open, tore open the plastic wrap, and pulled out the cone-shaped air freshener.

It gave off a pleasantly clean scent, cool and almost floral. It was refreshing after the dry, tarry smell of cigarette smoke. She set the freshener down by the floor AC unit and turned the fan up to high. The fresh smell rolled through the air, starting to permeate the room. While the room freshened itself up, she grabbed the bag with her toothpaste and toothbrush from her pack.

Tori watched herself in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. She looked worn down and strung out from the car ride. Her face was bleary, eyes baggy, brown hair mussed from being pushed up against the headrest for hours on end. In her casual clothes, she looked even more young and scrawny than usual. And here she was, only a junior associate, about to represent her whole company tomorrow.

Something about her face didn't seem entirely right. Tori squinted into the mirror and pressed a finger to her nose. The skin on the tip was darkened and purple. The whole thing seemed oddly swollen, the tip broader and more bulbous. She sniffed, but didn't smell anything out of place. She tapped on the tip of her nose, then squeezed both fingers around it, trying to see if it was tender, but no. She tried rubbing at the bottom, but the color didn't come off. She twisted her mouth to one side, then the other. It looked kind of like a little snout.

Did she bump her nose in the car? Maybe she'd bruised it somehow. She couldn't explain why it looked weird, but she had to hope it'd clear up by the morning. She had enough anxiety about the conference already, without worrying about weird smudges on her nose.

Tori stripped off her shirt and tugged off her pants, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor. Once she'd showered and toweled off and put her underwear back on, she sat down on the bed. Tori took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of the air conditioner. Her eyelids drooped and fluttered. Her nose bulged a little broader, a little more rounded. She could see it between her eyes, sticking out into the middle of her vision. Then her eyes crossed, unfocused and fatigued. She rubbed her hand over the waistband of her panties, where a tuft of short, dark fur crept upwards toward her bellybutton. She gripped the fur between her fingers and mumbled a groggy "Wuh?"

Tori's eyelids fluttered one more time, and then drifted shut. She fell with a soft flump against the bed, and she was out like a light, exhausted from the drive and the stress and too tired to keep investigating the strange things happening to her body.

In her dreams, Tori was already at the conference. She stood behind a podium, about to give a presentation, but she didn't even know what she was supposed to talk about. Maybe she had notes on her laptop, she thought. If she could stall for long enough, she could salvage this.

"Everyone, thank you for coming. We'll get started in just a minute," she said, leaning over the microphone.

Tori opened up her laptop. She tapped in her password and pressed enter. Invalid password. She took a deep breath. The air smelled sweet and fresh, perhaps gently floral. It sent a shiver down her spine. She tried again, but again it failed. Maybe she was typing it in wrong. If she just watched her fingers, she'd get it right.

Tori looked down at her hands and gasped. Strands of black hair poked up from the backs of her palms. Her nails had grown longer, extending beyond her fingers and starting to curl. She tried to type as carefully as possible, but her growing claws clattered across nearby keys no matter how neatly she hunt-and-pecked. She looked up at the audience; they watched her, waiting quietly but impatiently for her to start. If she kept her hands on the podium, maybe they wouldn't see her embarrassing claws.

"Sorry, just some technical difficulties," she said, with a weak chuckle. Now she was starting to sweat. Her panties itched and she needed to scratch but how could she do that up in front of everyone? She leaned close to the podium and tried to surreptitiously shove her hand down her skirt and scratch at the skin under her panties. What her fingers found, though, was fur. Smooth fur, covering her crotch and reaching around her thighs. She rolled her eyes and grimaced. Fur was the last thing she needed right now.

Tori pulled her hand free. It came out covered in black. Had the fur rubbed off? No; the back of her hand had grown its own pelt of dark fur. The front was padded like some kind of animal's paw. Both of her hands were like that. She turned them over and over, staring at what were now unmistakably paws. Then she looked up at the audience. Still silently watching, judging her all the while. She gripped the edge of the podium, trying to keep her hands out of view. Turning into an animal in the middle of her presentation would be so unprofessional.

The silence rang in Tori's ears; she had to say something. She took a deep breath before she spoke, but stopped short. Her bra straps strained against her shoulders. The band dug into her ribs and kept her from breathing in any further. Her cups squeezed her breasts as if her bra was shrinking while she wore it. They ached, tender to the touch, begging to be ripped free from her suit. She winced and dug a claw into the front of her jacket, trying to buy herself a little extra space to breathe. "H-hah. Could we see about turning up the AC?" she asked.

Tori cleared her throat. Her panties were getting tighter, digging into her waist. The same hot, tender feeling flooded through her hips that was throbbing in her chest. Her claws scratched at her skirt, trying to find the waistband of her panties so she could adjust them. Her thighs felt like fleece blankets were wrapped around them; the fur around her groin had spread downwards, insulating her. A drop of sweat fell from her temple onto the podium.

Tori's nose twitched. She smelled the fresh scent again, flooding into her lungs and making her hair stand on end. She'd been so nervous about everything else, she'd entirely forgotten about her dark, snout-ish nose. Something was changing about it, shifting in the corner of her vision right between her eyes. She wrinkled her nose and turned away from the audience. She wanted to cover up her nose, but she couldn't use her hands or everyone would see her furry hands.

After a moment, Tori noticed she was looking right at the glossy screen of her laptop. She saw her own reflection in the screen and squeaked. Forgetting her paws, she reaching up to grab her big, rounded, dark nose. It sat at the tip of the short, black-furred snout that was growing from her face. She tried to push it back, but it wouldn't budge. All her shoving and squeezing managed to do was to make a set of whiskers puff out from her cheeks. At least the fur hid her blush.

Not in front of everyone, she thought. This was absolutely the worst time to be transforming. Holding a black, clawed paw in front of her snout, as if that hid anything, she leaned toward the microphone. She said, "Sorry, I need a minute," and turned to leave the stage. She made to shuffle off to the side so she could regain her composure, but all of a sudden, her bra dug even tighter into her chest. The band constricted around her ribs, squeezing the air out of her lungs until she could only take shallow, quick breaths. The sudden shock made her stagger back, grasping at her chest and huffing anxiously. The ache in her breasts was sharp and painful and she needed to get her bra off. Just not here, not in front of everyone.

The fur on her arms reached all the way up to her elbows. The fur on her legs poured down her calves, reaching for her ankles. Her pelt was all sleek and black, except for a white stripe running right up the middle of her snout, between her eyes. Her suit creaked dangerously. Her panties had a death-grip on her waist and her bra's clasps were on the verge of breaking.. She was burning up under all the fur. And despite all this, everyone was just staring at her. They were judging her for losing control of herself.

Her bra snapped. The sudden force ripped the buttons off her shirt, sending them flying. All at once she was bare-chested in front of the whole crowd. She wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to hide herself from view. "No!" she shouted. Her heart pounded, her head spun, and her whole body was achingly hot.

Tori shot up from the bed, back straight and eyes wide. "No!" she shouted, flecked with sweat, gasping and out of breath. It was a dream. Just a stress dream. She glanced at the clock. It was six in the morning. She raised a furry, clawed hand to wipe the sweat from her brow.

She froze, then pulled her hand away from her forehead. Claws. Black fur, all the way up past her elbow. She grabbed at her face, squeezing her big, black nose and stroking her whiskers. She looked down. Her bra had snapped off, and her breasts perched proudly on her chest, completely bare. She could barely wrap her hands around them if she tried, they were so large. Her panties had sunk in tight against the soft curves of her black-furred hips, digging a divot into her waist. They felt ready to snap at any moment.

"Oh, god damn it," Tori whined.

A blast of air from the AC billowed over her face, thick with the scent from the air freshener. Her head spun. Her cheeks flushed beneath her creeping fur. She brought her hands up and patted her face, following the line of fur sliding back toward her jaw. Her ears were red-hot, rising higher on her head and growing rounder.

Tori sprung up and made for the bathroom, but her feet had other ideas. She stumbled, threw out her arms, and caught herself on the wall. Her feet shifted beneath her. Claws sprouted from her toenails, short but curled enough to touch the carpet. Fur rushed down from her ankles, spreading across the tops of her feet. The new pads beneath her toes lifted her up; each step felt softer, like she was walking on top of a mattress. She pushed herself off the wall. On her strange new feet, she wobbled into the bathroom and caught herself on the sink. She flicked on the lights. The fan overhead whirred to life, drawing in air from the rest of the room.

"No, no, come on, I need to be presentable," she whined at her reflection. Her first instinct was to start shoving her big snout back into her face, but that hadn't worked in her dream, and it definitely wouldn't work in real life. Maybe she could get rid of the fur. She grabbed her razor from her bag of toiletries and attacked her upper arm with it. The fur was thick enough to clog up the blades and as soon as she'd shaved off a patch, it filled right back in again, as if nothing had happened.

"...and what the hell are these?" she said, wrinkling her black-and-white snout. She wrapped her paws around her breasts, heaving them up to feel their weight. They were soft, and heavy, and...wait, the bathroom light turned on the fan, which meant—

The air freshener smell hit her nose. Her nostrils flared. Reflexively, she breathed in. It washed across her in a wave from back to front. She doubled over the sink, legs wide, standing on the tips of her toes. She gripped the porcelain tightly enough to scrape it with her claws. Her breath came fast and deep. Her ass was stuck out high in the air, her panties still digging into her skin.

All the muscles at the base of her back gathered and twitched in unison. She grunted and shuddered, jerking forward for a moment. The sudden jolt had made her clench, and now a tight, throbbing feeling settled between her legs. Her thighs were hot, her mound puffy and swollen. Again, the muscles spasmed together. Her claws scraped the tile floor and she bared her small fangs in the mirror. Her hips rocked a few times in the aftershock, as if grinding against some unseen object. She loosened her jaw with a hot sigh.

"Oh, come on, no, don't—aah!" Tori protested. Her own cry cut her off. Another thump hit her right between the legs. She was burning up. White fur poured from the middle of her chest, forming a tuft that nestled against her cleavage. Dark fur wrapped around her breasts and ran down her ribs. The front of Tori's panties were damp despite herself.

Tori groped for the base of her spine. "I swear to ghh—" she began to say, but her muscles twinged again. Something strained against the back of her panties as she nearly fell to the floor. One hand clung to the sink. Her thighs squeezed together, riding out a few lingering throbs by grinding her hips. She was wordless, panting, and hanging on desperately.

The next twitch came, and it didn't stop. It grew, twisting, tearing free of her panties. She screamed out loud. Her body was pulsing uncontrollably, every muscle in her groin clenched tightly. The tear in the fabric spelled the end for her underwear; it split apart, snapping off like a rubber band. A few drops fell to the floor between her legs. Cool air met her damp pussy and she shuddered. The fur along her spine stood up.

All the way along her spine. Which now included…

Her tail rose up behind her in the mirror. Though it was still short, only two feet long, it was already fluffy with long, dark fur. Her tail swished in the air behind her while she stared at its reflection, eyes watering and cheeks burning. With the feeling of one climax still fresh inside of her, she craved more. She tried to force that want back down, to repress it, but her body was hungry. The harder she tried to ignore it, the more hungry she felt.

Even if she wanted to go chasing tail, she didn't have time for that. Tori stood back up. Her body was throbbing and the last of her underwear had been torn to bits. This was awful. She only had an hour or two to fix this before she had to be at the convention hall. Most pharmacies probably wouldn't be open by now. There had to be something she could do.

In Tori's panicked state, she breathed in another thick waft of air freshener scent. Her aching body relaxed. Tori's eyelids fluttered and her back curled, pushing out her chest. Her lips curled into a small pout of distress. She gazed into her own lidded eyes in the mirror. Move, she urged her body, but her feet refused to move. She could only watch.

The white stripe along the middle of her snout slid higher and higher until it hit her hair. White washed down her bangs, coming out from the roots. With it, her hair spilled down her forehead and across her cheeks, hanging off of her rounded, black-furred ears. As her locks grew, they curled—no frizz, just a smooth ripple down across her jaw and neck and over her shoulders. Not even a salon could have given her waves that effortlessly elegant. Her whole head of hair was turning long, luminescent white.

Behind her, her tail grew longer. Soon three feet, even more if you counted all the way to the tip of the thicker fur. Two white stripes spread down its length. Her tail swayed with the smoothness of a catwalk stride, swishing from side to side. Everything felt slow and suspended, like drifting in the ocean or floating through space. Each sway of her tail was subtly sexual; as long as it kept moving, she still felt her swollen ache between her legs and her hunger for another climax.

The fur along her front bore down on her stomach, the only spot of bare skin left on her body. Tori was disappearing beneath this sexy skunk lady she was becoming. The strangest thing was that she almost liked her new look. It was alluring in a competitive way. She bet could get a guy's number faster than any other girl. Just a swish of her tail,, come on, focus.

Tori's chest still tingled from what the explosive growth of her tail had done to her. They had been tender before, but now they felt positively electric. She kept her breasts thrust out, as if they were dangerous. Her tits themselves were pressing back, pushing against her ribs, expanding in all directions. and heavier by the minute. She couldn't leave them alone; she had to feel them. As her hands met her chest, her hips shuddered and she let out a squeaky groan. The furry flesh sunk against Tori's palms, sensitive, swollen, and swelling still. Despite the faint painful throbbing beneath her skin, she didn't want to let go. So big, so beautiful, so glamorous.

Her tail swayed. With each swish through the air, her back muscles strengthened to support its bigger, fluffier mass. Three and a half feet at least, and thickly-furred enough to be huggable. Her hips padded themselves with soft fat and sleek fur, widening with every motion of her tail. One arm crept around both of her breasts, holding them still. The other spared a hand to reach down and feel behind her back. She groped the base of her tail, then out along the thick fluff, stroking it as if to try to comb it out.

From her tail, her hand dropped to her ass with a soft smack. It was a rear made for smacking and showing off, thick with the curves from her strong tail-muscles, padded well just like her thighs. She dug her claws in and squeezed. An ass like that deserved to be admired, she thought.

Her loose, white waves framed her black-and-white face. In back, her hair fell down to the bottom of her shoulder blades. In front, they parted around her chest, spread wide and highlighting her bustline. She still had one arm around her chest, in some semblance of modesty. Her breasts pressed together in the middle now, even when hanging freely. They were huge, and proud, and taut from all the tight growth packed inside of them. Why hide such great tits? They looked gorgeous, they deserved to be seen. Her arm slowly dropped, keeping her chest thrust out to show off her stunning rack.

Tori batted her eyelashes at her reflection in the mirror. She hardly looked nervous or anxious or scrawny now.. In fact, with her impeccable hair and well-proportioned snout (for a skunk) and stellar figure, she looked intimidatingly beautiful.

That thought trickled around through her brain, warming her senses and soothing her worries. If she looked this good, did she have anything to worry about? Everyone would get so self-conscious they'd worry more about themselves than about her. Her pout started to spread into a smile. She could make this work. If anyone could, it was her.

Her biggest concern had been embarrassment, but looking like she did now, she was on the offensive. She'd like to see those corporate-types try to keep their cool around her. Not just a bombshell, but assertive too. A wellspring of courage burst open inside her mind. She felt different, yes, but not a different person so much as a new version of herself. The confident, sexy Tori. She licked her lips and swished her tail through the air. Her loins ached. The confident, sexy, very horny Tori.

Now fully saturated with air freshener smell, she was coming back to Earth; her body was no longer floating in the ether. Right, she still had the convention, and she'd spent nearly half an hour getting turned into a skunk. Tori walked into the bedroom with a roll in her hips that sent her tail curling through the air.

Her spare panties were stowed in her backpack, but the elastic in the waistband pulled taut before she'd even gotten them over her hips. No amount of frustrated tugging would squeeze them up around her waist. Likewise, her bras were too small to fit her new rack. A single cup couldn't even reach up to cover her nipple now.

So underwear was out. Not that that was a bad thing. In fact, when it came to how horny she was, that was a very good thing. Maybe there'd be a chance to slip into private with someone, and they could just quickly ease that need she had.

Tori was able to get the sheer stockings on, at least. They hugged her legs, catching the light in a different, smoother way, highlighting the shape of her calves and the broadness of her thighs. Her skirt was forced to wrap around her thicker figure, so it rode up higher on her thighs, showing off more than intended. There was an inch of bare fur between the top of the stockings and the bottom edge of the skirt. Perfect. She wanted them to think about what was under her skirt. The more they wanted her, the more she could milk out of them.

Her shirt hugged close to her body as she buttoned it up. No problem getting it buttoned around her waist, but as soon as she hit her chest, she had to tug the fabric tight just to get the buttons into the holes. It clung tight to the underside of her breasts, wrapping up to just below the midline of her bust. That was where the last button she could button sat, pulling her shirt taut. The snugness helped support her heavy tits and show off her cleavage, the silky-black cleft capped with a tuft of white fur. She turned from side to side to see how the shirt clung to her. She hooked a finger over that last button and tugged down to push her cleavage out that little bit more. With the right balance of professional and salacious, she'd have everyone at the conference like putty in her hands.

Tori had the confidence to be sexy, and her beauty made her more confident, and that feedback loop drove her ego higher and higher. She pulled on the last piece of her suit, the dark pinstripe jacket, and buttoned it up. It hugged her waist, flared out right around her hips, and offered a tapered and stylish window for checking out her breasts.

Her shoes weren't even anything special, just black business pumps with a low heel. But when she put them on, she made them look like fetish material. The firm click of her shoes against the bathroom floor was satisfyingly professional.

Tori checked herself over in the mirror. She hiked up her breasts a little, tugged her skirt down to keep it from riding up too far, and brushed her luminous white hair back behind her ears. Her soft locks didn't need any maintenance, but she just wanted to run her fingers through her hair and bask in how good she looked for a few minutes longer.

She practiced her gazes in the mirror: interested, aloof, intense, passionate. She didn't know where this manipulative streak had come from, but she loved it. She loved the thought of controlling someone entirely through how much they wanted her. Maybe the assertiveness was intoxicating, or maybe she'd had it in her all along.

A shiver ran through Tori's body, making her tail twitch and her fur puff out. It was her body, giving her a gentle reminder that she was still desperately horny. No time for that, though, she'd just have to solve that at the conference. Solutions were already forming in her head.

With the stride of a six-figure executive, Tori walked back out into the hotel room. With her bag in hand, she headed for the door. A thought stopped her short, though. She looked down at the air freshener still sitting on the floor by the AC. She grabbed the little plastic cone and clicked it shut, to save what scent it had left, then stowed it in her bag.

May 7, 2016