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."


Fuck the System

In a cyberpunk world, a punk panthress is brainwashed into being a police officer while a shy jackal finds a new, more punkish self through body modding. Explicit.

Opal stuffed her small red mohawk into a hat made of electrodes, elastic straps, and a tangle of wires. Her natural panther bulk made her an imposing figure, and her black fur only more so. Rows of piercings climbed up her ears and a set of rings jutted from one of her eyebrows. Her chest was stuffed tight into a tank top and her big boots held big paws. In short, she was what the Party called an 'improper citizen'. It was a term Opal took with pride.

At the other end of the wires sat Cai. At his most rebellious, the young jackal looked like an office intern. His pointed ears were the only remarkable thing sticking out of his polo shirt and slacks. But behind that squared-off demeanor and tight-combed black fur was a networking genius with a burning distaste for the status quo. Opal had found him years ago, and now they were partners in hacking.

"Ready to fuck shit up," Opal said.

"Just be careful," Cai said. If you wanted to hack these days, you had to go full immersion. Riskier than good old screen-and-keyboard like Cai preferred, but you could move as fast as you could think. "Here we go." He flipped the switch for the neural rig.


Heart's Desire [Illustrated]

Three friends play a fortune-telling game to grant their hearts' desire, but is it really giving them what they want? Explicit.

Cole stood beside the cabinet, like he was presenting it to them. "It's like a fortune telling game, but it's got special rules to it. You play it with a bunch of people, you get one fortune per day, and the first person to get to five 'blessings' wins."

"Wins what?" Tricia asked.

Cole pointed to one of the rules. "Your heart's desire."

Alex made a soft snort. Cole grinned. Tricia was starting to smile too. It was a cheesy old game.

"So, want to give it a shot?" Cole asked.

"That's what we're here for," Alex said. Even if it was silly, it was something they could all play together.

Alex stood up, fished one of the tokens out of the open coin return, and dropped it into the slot. A tinny recording of a sitar played as the cards on display in the booth swirled around and the lights on the outside flashed on and off in a spinning pattern.

A slot in the front spat out a yellowed card. Alex picked it up, then moved to the side. Tricia stood by her after getting her own fortune, and once Cole got his too, they all turned to face each other.


Another One of the Girls

A fox-squirrel runs into one of those trashy rat girls. Surprise surprise, she TFs him. Explicit.

The doors started to close, then stopped and pulled back. Fortune stepped into the elevator and tapped the brass button for the fifteenth floor. The bed was waiting for the fox-squirrel up in his room, where he could rest his legs and feet before dinner. Probably Italian food, he thought—it seemed fitting while he was in the city, even if he'd had pizza for lunch for the same reason.

He looked from the doors up to the number three which slid up to four, then to the other person standing in the elevator with him. The way her ass jutted out in the thin black dress made it beg to be squeezed, and the way one of her knees was crooked, lifting one of her tall black heels off of the ground, seemed almost inviting. Her pink tail swayed from side to side behind her. The dress ended just below her shoulder blades, amid the thick curls of her black hair, while on top of her head, a pair of rounded ears held up heavy golden hoops.


Joining the Girls

While on vacation in the big city, a cat's friend gets turned into a trashy rat girl, then tries to do the same to him. Explicit.

The last night had whirled into an exciting blur. Rebecca had been with him for most of it. She had run off in some other direction, said there was someone who wanted to something something and she'd be back by morning, and he hadn't seen her since. Circ had ended up sprawled on the bed in the hotel room by the end of it all.

Their trip to the city had been a lazy, fun week for the two friends to kick back and do all the sorts of touristy things. They were leaving Sunday night, but they still wanted to make the most of it, so the two of them had convinced each other that going out to a club would be fun. And it was fun. The problem was getting up the next morning.


Intolerant Lactoid

If milk turns people into cows, what if sour milk turned people into tough punk cows? Explicit.

Jessica lifted the carton to her nose, sniffed softly, then made a small, scrunched face. The inscrutable numbers that were the expiration date didn't offer any help. It had probably gone bad. Then again, she didn't want to waste it. Even if it was a little overdue, it couldn't hurt.

She wasn't always so compulsively frugal. It was just that her temp job had barely given her enough money to keep her afloat and now that was over too, so anywhere that she could cut corners, she would. So there were a few dry drops of chocolate syrup left over in the bottle, and a glass of milk that wasn't smelling so good. She put two and two together, and came up with a slightly chocolate-flavored not-quite-right glass of milk.