Kotep Strips Down

Some kind of jackal trickster god manages to turn themself into a Gideon-sized stripper. Explicit.

Deep in the temple, in a small sanctuary off of the hypostyle hall, Kotep stood in front of a mirror flanked by flickering braziers. The golden jackal turned to one side, then the other. They hiked up the edge of their dress, exposing a little more hip, then let it drop back down with a sigh.

"This isn't going to work." Not for this trick. The plan was too complicated to get into, but the important part was that Kotep needed to sex things up for it to work. The only problem was: "What the hell are mortals horny for these days?"

One arm folded across their chest and one finger tapping at their chin, Kotep stared at the floor. They contemplated for a good minute or two before they began to get bored and impatient with waiting. It was too hard to put themself in the mindset of some idiot constantly driven around by their procreatory bits. It was much easier to just cast a spell that would take care of it all for them. Riskier, sure, but no one got to be a trickster god by playing it safe.

Kotep raised a hand and the ground began to rumble. Gusts of wind fluttered against their dress and ruffled through their hair like unseen wings. A few green-blue feathers fell to the floor and traced the outline of a circle around their feet. They cocked their hips, planted their hands on their waist, and watched the mirror, waiting for the sign of some change.

It was their breasts first. Of course it was. Ever since the Thirty-First Dynasty it'd been breasts. Swelling outward with their soft weight, they pulled the linen tighter around them. Kotep arched their chest toward the mirror and ran their hands down their dress to smooth it out. Their breasts stretched with a slow, steady motion, like the filling of a balloon. If they rested their hands on either side, they could feel the faint quivering of mass pumping into them—as well as a small jolt from their nipples, from the feeling of linen brushing against tender skin. Kotep yanked their hands away, rolled their eyes, and huffed, "Mortals."


Just A Cigar

A hyena gets enough confidence to own her new, enhanced looks. (Also, a penis. She gets that too.) Explicit.

The cigar was huge. At least an inch thick and seven inches long. Cam had owned dildos smaller than that. She dug it out of an old cigar box in the back of her closet, so old the green-and-gold paper had started to flake. A gold seal wrapped around the cigar near the base. It smelled not quite like tobacco; still heavy and imperious, but more spice than musk.

Cam wrinkled her snout. "Jesus Christ, that's big," she muttered. The cigar box she tossed over with the stuff she could maybe sell on Craigslist for rent money: a taped-up hockey stick and a portable CD player with blue crystal buttons. The cigar she held onto. Everything else from the bottom of her closet, the torn up shirts and used skateboard wheels and orphaned shoelaces, sat in the 'useless junk' pile.

With a sigh, she heaved herself onto her feet and went to hunt through the kitchen drawers for her lighter. The drawers were only a few feet from her closet, and that was only a few feet from her bed, which was pulling double-duty as her couch.

Cam was a hyena: big ears, scruffy mane, brown spots on her tawny cheeks, the whole package. Well, not the whole package. That had more to do with recessive alleles and testosterone levels and it was pretty rare anyway. Aside from that, she was the sort of lean, strong-shouldered girl everyone expected a hyena to be. She went by Cam because her real name, Camilla, just felt weird on someone like that.


Becoming One of the Girls

A fox girl gets a makeover from a pair of trashy rats. Explicit, crude language.

"Hey, mine aren't as fake as yours, barbie-tits." Maria pulled the collar of her leather jacket open and shoved her chest forward. It was true. Rita's tits sat higher and tighter than Maria's.

Rita clicked her tongue and flexed an arm. "That's 'cause I got muscle. Means it's harder for me to be a fatass than it is for girls like you."

Maria scoffed at the other rat girl leaning on the counter. "Like you don't love my fat ass. Why else are you hanging out here?" She gestured around, at the racks of trashy clothing and slutty clubwear. There weren't any customers, so The B*tch Boutique was quiet, aside from the constant pulsing club beat over the speakers.

"Body shop's closed, TV sucks, might as well talk to a skank," Rita said. She hopped up onto the counter and dragged a cigarette out of her pocket. Maria didn't bother to tell her not to light up inside. Number one, she didn't care, and number two, Rita looked so fucking butch when she smoked that it drove her wild.

"You just wanna watch hot chicks trying on slutty clothes," Maria said.

"If that was true, I'd just hide in your closet."


Hooked

A fox girl and her friends succumb one by one to addictive, transformative, brain-draining cigarettes. Explicit.
1 Hazel, Monday morning

Hazel hadn't seen Jordan all day. At this point, she was convinced that Jordan was home sick and hadn't texted her about it. Hazel knew the rabbit girl would be more pissed about missing track practice than missing class.

Her two other friends were already sitting at their table in the cafeteria, so Hazel headed their way. Her fluffy fox tail flicked behind her, weaving through the tight gaps between people's chairs. Between her short, crisp red hair and sharp green eyes, she had the look of someone who could be confident one day, once she got over her own teenage awkwardness. Right now, she was more lanky than anything.

Hazel slid into a seat at the table. Zoey and Evie barely noticed her sitting down.

Zoey was the biggest of their bunch, thanks to her panther genetics. She had dangerous scowls down to a science, and she was on her last strike for violating the dress code. The grinning feline skull on her tank top peeked above the table.

Evie, the doe, had her hoof-tipped fingers wrapped around her fork, halfway through jabbing it into her salad. Her glasses made her wide-eyed stare look even wider. Her flannel shirt had been scuffed in spots, a veteran of one of her many hiking trips, and her hair was pulled back in her usual short ponytail.

Zoey and Evie both were staring in the same direction. Hazel glanced between the two of them, waited a few seconds, then broke the silence by saying, "What's up?"

"Jordan," Evie said.

Hazel followed Evie's gaze, but she didn't see Jordan. All she saw was the school's varsity quarterback and some sexed-up bunny sitting on his lap. "I don't get it," Hazel said.

Zoey reached across the table, wrapped one arm around Hazel's shoulder so they were looking from the same angle, and pointed at the bunny girl. "That's Jordan," she said.

Hazel's eyes widened. That couldn't be Jordan.


Matat Spa

A couple visits a spa staffed by faceless latex attendants, and slowly lose themselves to the hypnotic smoke.. Explicit.

The highway weaved along the coastline, between the warm beaches on one side and the orange cliffs on the other. Riley sat behind the wheel of her rental car with the window rolled down and her arm hanging out to feel the breeze. The wind whipped at the side of her short mane. Riley had the imposing posture, sharp smile, and sinewy frame that came with being a hyena. She watched the road from behind her mirrored sunglasses as she followed it north.

Julie sat in the passenger seat. While the lioness didn't look as tough as Riley did, their tussles in bed had proved that they were evenly matched. Julie's copper hair was brushed back behind her ears, though the wind blew around the inside of the car so much that she had to occasionally re-tuck it. A pair of gold studs sat in her left ear, nearly hidden against her tawny fur.

As they came around another ridge, Julie's ears flicked up and she leaned forward to point. "There it is," she said.

Nestled between two orange hills was a building shaped like a white cylinder, three stories high, and shaded from the road by lines of narrow cypress trees. It was smooth and nearly featureless, and if it hadn't been for the spacious parking lot and well-kept driveway, it might have seemed like a water tower.

Riley pulled off the highway and followed the driveway up into the empty parking lot. She plucked the sunglasses off her face, then asked Julie, "Is this place open? It looks deserted."


Lost Tales of the Planet Rushes: The Mind-Melting Parasitic Dildo Snakes of Planet Xenobia, Part One

Two bounty hunters land on an exotic alien planet in search of strange fauna, but run afoul of bimboifying mist and overly-phallic parasites. Explicit.

A story in the Trials in Tainted Space universe. Continues in Part Two.

1 - Welcome to Xenobia

"Five minutes till we hit the atmosphere," squawked the radio on Evie's hip. "Buckle up. This one's thick, over."

The fox-morph's hands were full with the speckle-backed Algonian screechworm. The three-foot-long mass of slime, tentacles and biting wasn't happy about being captured, and it was less happy about getting shoved into a cryotank. Grabbing its tentacles like a bouquet, she slammed it into the tank, then before it could thrash its way out, slammed the lid on top.

Evie took a deep breath as frost crackled across the walls of the tank. The screechworm stiffened mid-writhe and fell silent. She tossed the tank into the storage bay with the rest of their haul: three uncharted worlds' worth of undiscovered species. Even splattered with screechworm slime and panting from exertion, Evie couldn't wait for uncharted world number four. Nothing in the galaxy could beat the thrill of the hunt.

Her gloves peeled off with a rubbery snap. Evie hauled herself up the ladder from the small cargo bay into the ship's tight corridor. One hand on the red bar above her head, she squeezed down to the crew quarters and cranked the door open. Ducking under the threshold, she lifted her radio in front of her mouth. "Roger that, buckling up now."

The blonde vixen tossed the radio onto her bunk. She tugged off her soaked vest and pants and tossed them into the autoclave. Nude, Evie stepped into the shower stall, dialed up Deep Scrub on the knobs, then closed her eyes and held her breath.