The Hyena in the Honeymoon

Dick and Janet have some car trouble, so they stop for help at a mad scientist's home. Explicit.

Janice reached out one paw and switched off the radio. The inside of the car was starting to smell like radiator fluid.

"Are you all right, honey?"

Dick grasped his forehead where a bump was slowly rising against his fingers. "I'm fine—Jesus, that was some kick," he said.

Dick opened the door, climbed out of the driver's seat and popped open the hood of his car to be greeted with a plume of smoke. The tiger stepped back, eyes closed, coughing.

"Looks like the radiator blew. I could fix it, but I'd need some tools."

Janice climbed out of the car and Dick took just a moment to soak her in, lit up by the headlights. From her silky dark bob to her polka dot dress to her frankly fantastic legs, all of the beautiful skunk was his to have and to hold: his brand new wife.

"What are we going to do? We're in the middle of nowhere," Janice said.

Dick swept her into a tight embrace. He always liked the way she got a little furrow in her brow when she was worried, and how her head seemed to fit perfectly against his chest, and the way he just had to purr a little and she would relax and quietly lean into him.

"It'll be all right. There's got to be a house somewhere along this road, and we can just ask to borrow their phone," he told her.

 

Janice started protesting once they passed the black wrought-iron gate with its spikes jutting into the cloudy, moonlit sky, but Dick was determined. A big mansion like this had to have a phone. The mansion stood out in stark Gothic angles on the hill, separated from the forest by thick, empty lawns that looked pale and sick in the bright moonlight. Dick wouldn't be surprised if they'd find a driver who could take them into town if they asked nicely

A fluttering of wings exploded near a bare, twisted dead tree along the driveway. Janice squeaked and pulled at Dick's arm as an owl flapped away across the lawn. Dick patted her shoulder gently. "It's just a wild bird, don't be scared," he told her as he pulled her toward the front door of the mansion.

Dick pushed the doorbell and the first four notes of a funeral dirge echoed from beyond the thick wooden doors. Dick waited, watching the doors and windows for any signs of inhabitants.

"Dick, I don't like it here. Can't we just walk into town?"

He looked at Janice and gave her a light hug. "If we keep walking, you'll be tired and sleepy and you'll start saying you wanted to stop here instead. Don't worry, someone rich enough to own this place has got to have a—"

He didn't finish because the doors were creaking open, throwing a sliver of cold light out onto the porch. Someone stood in the sliver, someone with curly ringlets and a dark dress and apron and a distant look in her eyes. Her eyes weren't where Dick looked first Janice's eyes jealously darted from the fox maid's heavy bust to Dick's face.

"Hello! Our car broke down a little way down the road. Could we come in and call a mechanic?" Dick asked.

"Um, sorry, the mistress's kinda busy right now," the fox said.

Dick shared a glance with Janice. His gut had twisted instinctively. He ignored the feeling and breezed on ahead.

"We don't mind waiting a little while. It's late and I think Janice here is sleepy," he said, giving her an around-the-waist hug and a kiss on the cheek.

The maid seemed to be thinking for a few moments. "Oh, um, sure, come on in," she said, opening the door further and beckoning them in.

 

"See, it's not so bad," Dick said to Janice.

He smiled at a mouse maid who had brought him a tumbler full of whiskey. The mouse giggled loudly and gave Dick a coy pout as she left the room. Janice somewhat reluctantly accepted a glass of wine from a vacantly smiling bat.

"Plus these maids are...well," he said, trailing off as he looked from the plunging cleavage of a jackaless tidying up the room with a feather duster to Janice's frown.

He set down his whiskey and wrapped Janice up in a warm embrace.

"Honey, I'm a man. I can't help looking. But if you think some maid is going to get between me and my wife," he said, then kissed her firmly, "then you must not know my wife." He shared a quiet smile with Janice.

“If you need to relax, why not put on some music?" he suggested. Dick lead her over to the old radio and clicked it on. Soft, pleasant music filled the room.

Dick let Janice listen while he sought out one of the maids bustling through the room and tidying things up for their guests. He caught a zebra maid by the shoulder and she turned around to look at him with the inviting but vacant look they all seemed to have.

"Sorry to bother you, but when are we going to get to see 'the mistress'?" he asked.

"Frankie? Frankie is so unreal, oh my god," the zebra squeaked.

He didn't suppose he'd get much more out of her. Dick let her go but talked to the mouse maid when she came back to refill his whiskey.

"Can you tell me how much longer we'll be waiting?" he asked her.

"You're gonna see Frankie, like, real soon," the mouse said before giggling and pulling away.

Dick frowned as he stood up, taking a few quiet moments to think. It was quiet—had Janice turned the radio off? He turned around.

Janice was sprawled on the floor, leaning on the radio, one ear pushed up against the speaker, one paw trailing down the radio's side, her eyes glossed over like she was in a trance.

"Janice?" Dick jogged over to her. He shook her shoulder, pulled her away from the radio, sat her up against the couch, even gave her face a few taps. She just stared beyond Dick, her mouth half-open.

Dick breathed in to scream for help but the air was too sweet and something was in his mouth and he was falling backward into darkness.

 

His eyes shot open and he jerked in surprise but his arms wouldn't move and neither would his legs. All around him was strange scientific equipment, smooth and gleaming with prods and wires and electrodes. Craning his head up, he could see his own, bare, furred chest, and twisting his head to the side he could see Janice, asleep but naked and bolted to a table just like he was.

"Oh, good morning," an enthusiastic voice cooed.

Dick rolled his head, trying to follow the sound. There were a few firm clicks, the sounds of claws and heels across a stone floor, and then a large pair of breasts bounded only by the black leather that cupped them from underneath rose into his view, followed by a hyena's snout covered in a surgical mask.

"I was hoping I'd get to have someone over, and just look at you! All big and ripe like that..." A black-gloved paw reached down and rubbed over his chest while the hyena paced around him. As she walked by his head, he could see the thong she was wearing and—good god! Stuffed into that thong was a big—

"Dick!" Janice yelped.

He bucked toward Janice. His immediate instinct was to protect and comfort her, his shackles be damned.

"Janice, it's okay, I'm here," he said.

Dick looked at her, then the hyena, who was grinning with her surgical mask tugged down. She had on enough leather from the tips of her tall boots to the tip of her top to make a cow feel uncomfortable but aroused.

"That's right, Dick's going to take care of everything," the hyena said, rolling her fingers across the round handle of a lever. "Don't fret for a moment."

A brushed-steel sphere, cupped by a glass dish above it, rotated on an armature above the table. Dick watched it come to a stop above his head, then looked over to see an identical device turning into place above Janice.

The one-two click of stiletto heel and bare claws echoed between them. In the hyena's hand was a syringe, glowing a gentle green.

"Your choice, Dick," she said, looking down at him. "The Brain Ray or Hormone X? You get one, Janice gets the other."

Dick balled his hands into fists and looked over at Janice, who was trying to squeeze her hands out of her bonds frantically.

"Keep your hands off Janice. Do it to me," he said.

The hyena shrugged. "If you're not going to be fair, I don't have to be."

Dick yelled for her to stop and Janice yelled for Dick when the needle jabbed into her arm. Her arm and shoulder grew tense, then she fell flat against the table, shuddering and breathing heavily but no longer squirming.

"Damn it—Janice!" Dick shouted with a few more desperate, futile jerks.

"Wait your turn," the hyena told him. She clicked over to a tray, retrieved another syringe, and jabbed it under the flesh of his arm.

It felt as if steel had been shot straight into his veins, weighing him down and stiffening his joints and muscles. Struggling grew more difficult, so he could only lie back and let out angry pants, staring at the hyena's contented grin.

"Just who do you think you are, you freak?" he squeezed between his locked teeth.

"Frankie," the hyena said, flashing her fangs back at him. "Nice to meet you."

Dick tried to twist his wrists against the metal shackles but his body barely responded at all. His jaw went slack, leaving his mouth hanging open. The table beneath him felt like it was moving, but everything around him was standing still.

The table wasn't moving, he was shrinking. His proud pecs, reminders of his years playing football for his college team, the strong biceps that Janice loved feeling wrapped around her sides—all of it was dwindling before his eyes. It was as if his very masculinity was being stripped away, even though his package was sitting safely untouched between his softening thighs.

"Now that I've got you started," Frankie said, wrapping her hands around a pair of thick circuit breakers, "you probably want a taste of my Brain Ray."

Dick yelled but it was drowned out in the loud crackle of electricity rippling across the air. Sparks sprayed down from overloaded capacitors. Like little bolts of thread, blue electricity jumped along the surface of the polished sphere above Dick's head.

With two thunderclaps in unison, Dick and Janice were transfixed by shimmering lightning. The current leapt from the spheres to their foreheads and drove straight into their minds. The oscillating current formed one coherent sensation: the penultimate feeling of orgasm, the welling anticipation after it was all inevitable but before the exhilarating climax, pushing him to the very edge. It flowed through his mind and washed over every sense he had; he barely even noticed something had been placed on his groin before the orgasm hit.

And it did hit, only seconds after the Brain Ray had started, lasting until it was shut off a minute later. The ray left tracks in his mind, mental burn marks, blazing away some inhibitions, some thoughts, some of what stood in the way of his lusts. He was trembling afterward. He felt weak and he hated it and he felt horny and he hated it even more.

Between his smooth legs was fastened a suction cup and a piece of clear tubing, which had sucked away all of his cum afterward. Lifting his head and squinting in Janice's direction, he saw the same cup placed on his wife's groin, filled with a...with a thick—

"Dick, I'm sorry," Janice said between her exhausted pants. "I don't know—"

Frankie's body wedged into their conversation. "Saw your wife's upgrade, huh? Thought it'd make a nice honeymoon gift," she said. Dick couldn't see what she was doing, but Frankie's hand reached for Janice, and then the skunk was twisting and gasping and whimpering.

"Let go," Janice whimpered through clenched teeth, toes curling in delight despite herself.

"Leave her alone," Dick said, but even his voice had grown softer, his tone sweeter. It only seemed to highlight how useless he was at protecting Janice. He couldn't keep his wife safe, so maybe he didn't even deserve to be a man.

"Oh, you want me working on you some more?" Frankie asked, leaving Janice with an uncomfortably stiff erection wobbling above her legs. "You've got some catching up to do, after all."

Frankie squirted a few drops of the glowing green liquid into the air from a thick syringe, then pushed the needle into the underside of Dick's elbow. The slender, androgynized tiger squirmed in his shackles, but he couldn't get away from the needle.

His heart pounded but that only made it worse. It pushed the Hormone X through his body faster. His hips creaked and his chest groaned, his hair rustled and his lips throbbed. The noise of his own body filling and flooding with the powerful liquid drowned out the noise of what Frankie was now doing to Janice.

Then Dick started to grow in all the ways he didn't want. His chest ached, his nipples stiff and swollen, but there were no broad, locker-room forged pecs growing there. He had breasts; trembling, perky little mounds that fit his lean form well.

Dick's back curled off the table as he let out a cry which started around a tenor but plucked upward through the octaves until he reached a high alto, a feminine squeal that sounded alien to his own ears.

"Oh god," he whimpered. His voice was higher than Janice's.

The soft whine from above was his only warning that the Brain Ray was powering up again. It pinned him down, leaving tiny scorch marks where it arced against the fur on his forehead. He quivered in his shackles, eyes half-open, jaw dangling open. Every rippling sensation of pleasure forced into his mind twisted around the slow, steady, immovable progress of Hormone X through his system.

A blast of pleasure synched up with the growth of his breasts, swelling and throbbing and aching and heavier. So too was the rest of his body getting heavier. First he had been stripped down to a waif, and now he was being built back up, from the chest and hips outward. He was growing the sort of shapely legs he had loved to see on Janice. Now that they were his own, he was less thrilled.

His breasts plowed through the first three letters of the alphabet with no signs of stopping, and by the time they were stretching towards a good, solid D, the word 'breast' itself was a bit hard to grasp. To be fair to Dick, there were a lot of thoughts he had trouble grasping at the moment. Each pulse from the ray numbed his mind and brought out more dull bliss and lust. Each throb of the hormone made his body swell even further into perverse femininity.

The Brain Ray switched off. Dick felt as if he had been drained dry, but lifting his head up and peering around the creamy fur on his breasts, he caught a glimpse of a swollen set of balls and an equally engorged, oversized—

"Dick," Janice sighed. He rolled his head over to look at her. "Dick, I need to fuck something."

"I do too," he said reluctantly.

They shared an apologetic look before Frankie stepped down between them again. Some thick, bluish slime was spread across her gloves. She slapped one hand each against her two captives' scalps, rubbing it in while chuckling to herself.

"Oh, Dick? I think it's time to improve your wife," the hyena cooed.

He pulled his head up as high as he could to look Frankie in the eyes.

"Stop it, please, we haven't done anything,"he said.

Frankie scoffed. "You haven't? What a boring marriage."

She threw a lever and a glass dome rotated out of the floor, covering up Janice. Dick tried to turn over, to slip out of his shackles, to break free and help her, but all he could do was stare at her writhing silhouette through the frosted glass and hear her screams slowly become cries of pleasure.

When the dome rolled back, what was laying on the table was hardly his wife. Her short hair was long and bleached so heavily it was nearly a silvery white. Janice's breasts defied gravity the way they stuck out from her chest. Not even the classiest lipstick could keep someone from thinking lewd thoughts at a glance at her thickened lips. The shape of her legs made him just, just... If Janice had possessed elegant curves before, now they were exaggerated to sheer whorishness, like she represented some equation ingrained into his genes, like she was the prototype for sexual attraction.

"Your turn," Frankie said. She pulled another lever with a gleeful giggle.

A second dome slid over Dick, sealing off his wordless yells. The air was growing heavy and sweet and cloudy with a gas he breathed in with every desperate lungful of air. Each breath was inadvertently paired with a growing lustful sigh, each breath making his lips tingle with the intake of air. He could try to hold his breath but what would be the point? He had to breathe, and breathing filled his lungs with the damn gas.

The airborne chemical soaked into every nerve ending in his skin, making him let out reluctant, husky moans. Sweat beaded on his brow. His breasts weren't just growing. They were expanding. A force was inside of them, pushing, not just passively swelling but forcing his breasts bigger.

He licked along the swell of his lips. They were smooth and plump and tender and all their nerves were lighting up like shimmering gloss. He wanted something in them, something to keep them busy. His tongue wasn't enough, he needed something he could bury in his mouth and suck and suck.

His hair curled and bobbed around his cheeks, spreading across the table and draping over his shoulders and falling over the edge. He'd always kept it short, but the slime Frankie had spread on his scalp made it burn and smell and pushed thick dark waves out of his follicles.

He bared his teeth, spreading his thick lips wide. He thrust his rounded ass against the table and tried to lift his heavy chest as far up as he could. His nipples could almost touch the surface of the glass dome. And then, mercifully, it rolled back, and the gas drifted away from his oversexualized body. Frankie stood there, watching, her hand around the shoulder of one of the maids from—

Oh no. It wasn't a maid. It was Janice. Behind the red lipstick and the maid uniform and the empty-headed look in her eyes, it was her. She filled up the dress the same way the other maids did, and realizing that the maids all had extra equipment like Janice did now put a knot in his gut and a rising shaft between his legs. Damn it, Janice shouldn't have been making him horny like that. He liked the real her, not this overstuffed shemale maid.

"I'm gonna make you look so good!" Janice squeaked. The voice was her own but it sounded nothing like her.

She descended on Dick with a fistful of makeup, dropping everything onto his stomach and selecting out the lipstick and mascara and eyeliner from the pile, each in turn.

The Brain Ray crackled to life and zapped down through his skull, holding him still and encoding every single neuron with an intense aching for pleasure, while washing away everything that ran contrary to that.

Marriage shriveled up and blew away while Janice did his cheeks with rouge. His relationship with her went soon after, while she was in the midst of dabbing on colorful eyeshadow to complement his stripes. It was all going, going, and then gone.

The mindless tigress stared up at the spiral pushed in front of her eyes, listening to Frankie telling her what her job was going to be. She smiled pleasantly. Being a maid sounded nice.

 

"If she's got a place like this, that cat's way outta your league," Rizzo said.

Mikey shot a nasty look his way as he straightened his jacket and checked his greased hair in one of the motorcycle's mirrors.

"Shut the fuck up. I didn't hafta bring you, but she said bring a friend, and all my friends were busy," the wolf said, climbing off the motorcycle's seat.

"Aww, ya wound me with your words," the rat said with a mock pout. He pulled up his knees and lifted himself out of the motorcycle's sidecar.

Rizzo lagged a pace behind Mikey in climbing up onto the mansion's porch.

"Just remember," Mikey said, "The tiger broad is mine. I don't care what you do."

The door opened and Mikey grinned. He recognized the thick dark curls and the plump lips, but the maid outfit was new. Not that he minded.

“Hey babe, like the French thing you got going," Mikey said, leaning on the side of the door.

She just smiled at him and looked around his shoulder at Rizzo. "Ooh, you did bring someone," the tigress cooed, then turned and faced into the mansion. "Janice!" she called.

The tigress opened the door a bit wider as a skunk girl came running in high heels toward the front door. "Yeah, Di?" she asked, then looked through the door and curled her lips into a cute little O.

"I like the rat," Janice said with a stage whisper and a coy smile, leaning toward Di's ear.

"Come on in, boys," the tigress offered, opening the door wider.

Mikey and Rizzo wasted no time following the two women into the mansion.

"Those tits," Rizzo breathed.

"Told ya," Mikey said.

 

About five minutes later, the tigress maid peeked outside the door. She climbed down the steps to the motorcycle, kicked up the kickstand, and rolled it into the mansion's garage.