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Two Weeks - 8 A Familiar Face

"Next station, Evelyn. Exit to the right," a recorded female voice announced overhead on the tram's loudspeaker. The rabbit, Alan, pulled himself away from his word processor long enough to press a rubber strip on the wall, the signal for the driver that this was his stop. With a quick keystroke his work was saved, and he closed his laptop. There had been plenty of progress on his latest work of fiction during the hour long trip, but he now had important places to go. The warm laptop was secured quickly between his legs in its cloth case, and after a quick stretch to work out a little cramp in his calf, he grasped the handle on the seat in front of him and hopped to his feet.

"Please report any unattended parcels, bags, or packages to the operator."

It was just after noon, and at this time of day there where only few others on board with him, no more than a dozen passengers between any given stop, so to pass the time he wrote on his laptop. Yarns of curious explorers, epic encounters, and tales of day to day life. He always worked in private, as every single storyline he came up with usually ended up as smut in one form or another. The way he figured, it's not as though there was anyone to read over his shoulder, so what better way to pass the time? To him, it was one of the best places he could go to write. There were no distractions from friends or an internet connection to pull his attention elsewhere, and without the nerve to actually paw himself onboard public transit it left him hard, pent up and wanting. In such a state all his best, and kinkiest ideas came to him. When his pants invariably tented out, he simply adjusted himself with a little wriggle of his butt and set his shirt a little lower. He was pretty certain he'd been found out by keen noses on more than one occasion, but even then the worst that had ever happened from it was a lingering look by a wolf the previous year. Otherwise, no one was ever the wiser.

Otherwise, nobody was ever the wiser.

The flop-eared rabbit grabbed his over-stuffed backpack from the seat at his side and slung it over his shoulders with practiced ease. The bag was stuffed to near bursting with changes of clothing, chargers for his gadgets, bathroom amenities, and a few items for use in private, as well as other odds and ends. All the things he'd need for an extended stay away from home.

"Evelyn. Exit to the right."

With his laptop secure at his side, Alan walked to the door and braced himself as the train came to a steady stop. After a short pause the doors parted with a ding, and the teen stepped out into the open air.

It was the beginning of summer break, and the weather was fantastic, albeit on the warm side. The sky was smattered with a few friendly, puffy clouds and streaked by contrails from an airport in the next city over. A gentle breeze offered cool relief now and again, one soft gust at a time and each carried a mixed scent of seawater and brine from the nearby baylands.

The nearly seventeen year old lapin wore a pair of baggy blue shorts and a gray shirt that day, both garments emblazoned with a roaring viking lion, the logo for his school. The outfit was usually reserved to be gym attire, but it was loose, comfortable, and well broken in. His soft feet were spared the heat of the baked pavement by a pair of simple slip on shoes akin to moccasins; he couldn't be bothered with laces, and he enjoyed the thin sole for his frequent runs around the track and field.

Alan proceeded quickly, off the platform, eager to be off, down to a well established foot trail that ran alongside a seasonal creek. The area had been set aside as a wildlife corridor and bird sanctuary by the city, so offered a wonderful reprieve from busy city streets and strong scents of exhaust. It ran for miles and miles, and he used it all the time to get where he was going, more often than not on his bike, but this was the first time he had been this far down. His destination was just by the delta, where the creek fanned out into wetlands. Dozens of different species of avians called the area home, along with campuses of various high-tech industries, including his uncle's place of business.

He took no time to soak up the scenery though. At a hurried pace the way there was a pleasant fifteen minute walk under a sparse canopy of native evergreens and willow trees, then a quick jaunt down a connected series of side streets. As soon as he spotted the sigh his face lit up. It was a simplified pocketwatch, with the letters RHI inside. Just under that, the full name of the company was spelled out, 'Rabbit Hole Industries.' It was a rather plain, one story office building built during the tech boom some years back. Its walls were covered in earth-toned, smooth rocks set in cement, each about the size of a fist. Large windows spanned the front wall, their surfaces painted with a view of himself and the scenery behind him, the panes partly shaded under a pair of aged oak trees.

Alan hurried up to the front door and paused for a final check of himself, to be sure assured everything about him was in order. Aside from a With a brush of his paw back over his slightly mussed head-fur and floppy ear, he stepped inside. A wave of cool, conditioned air greeted him the moment he pulled the door open, a welcome relief after his time activity in the warm summer sun. The teen drew a long, deep breath through his nose, eyes lidded for a moment as he sampled the atmosphere, then let it out as a soft sigh.

"Hay there, hun. Can I help you?" The chipper voice made him jump. It belonged to the front desk secretary a ways off to his right, who hung upside down by her feet from a thick, padded bar on the ceiling. She was a fruit bat, dressed in casual black slacks that were pinned to cuffs on her thin ankles. A peach blouse completed the outfit, held in check with the hem tucked under her narrow, belted waist. The early-twenties woman was perhaps about five feet tall from her hook clawed feet down to the base of her long, cupped ears. In front of her a long, aluminum pole on the floor held up a touch panel display, as up-side-down as its operator.

"Oh, hello um..." when he saw her nametag was the wrong way up he was thrown off for a moment and tilted his head to one side to read, "Rose, I'm Alan. I'm ah... here to see my Uncle?"

A cute high pitched squeal of glee was his reply.

"So YOU'RE Vic's boy? Wonderful!," as she spoke she gave him a rather thorough looking over. "He told me about you. Said ya'd be be arrivin t'day," she giggled a bit girlishly, "though he never say how cute ya were." The woman grinned wide, sharp fangs exposed, the look was made all the stranger by the fact that she was still eye level with him, "I'll get him on the line, just a min' hun." Without waiting for a reply from the hot-eared teen, she tapped a black bud by her ear, then typed something on the touchscreen in front of her.

He blushed and nodded as looked at anything else but that devilish grin. "O-oh, okay." He tried to look back at her as she got in contact with his uncle but as soon as she flashed that big, toothy grin at him he turned away and wandered a few steps.

"Yes, I know wha'cha said, but yer guest is here to see ya," she paused as the tone on the other end of the line changed in an instant, "Good! I'll tell him." Rose clicked at Alan to get his attention. "Alright, he'll just be a minute. Could you look over here for a moment?" The young rabbit turned to her and got an eyefull of camera flash that made him jump, and try to blink the large rectangle from his vision. She took one look at the screen and giggled, "Perfect picture! Won't be a minute." Rose got to work on the boy's ID as he looked around the small lobby. Overall, it was rather spartan. Off in the corner a set of five seats were arranged around a low to the floor table. Various magazines, not one he'd ever heard of, were arranged in a neat fan. Though each was the latest issue, it looked like they'd never been touched since they were arranged. Potted plants, mostly ferns and shrubberies broke up the light from outside and cast a shadow on the cool tile floor that shifted constantly in the cool breeze of the overhead AC.

"Ding, card's done!" With another little giggle at her own bad joke, she plucked the ID from a printer beside her and set it on the counter. The rabbit took the card and looked it over. She had caught him with a very awkward expression on his face, as though he were about to sneeze and to top it off, the picture was the wrong way up.

"Uhhh... thanks." She flashed him a cheery smile. Alan was not one to argue over something so trivial, so just went to take a seat. Not a moment after his weight settled into the cushion, he heard a familiar voice.

"Alan my boy!" The good doctor walked into view, arms outstretched toward his nephew. The younger rabbit leapt to his feet and dashed over to close the gap.

"Uncle Vic!" Arms wrapped around one another in a tight hug, and brief laughter from the two of them. "It's been forever! What has you so busy these days?"

"Oh, there will be time for that later, firstly let's get you inside and settled. Can I see your card?" Alan had never put it down, so just gave it over. Victor chuckled at the picture and glanced over to Rose, who had been grinning the whole time at the pair. From his pocket, he fished out a silver button clasp pin in the shape of a small clock face, then handed it back. "All set. Shall we?" He motioned to the hall from which he came as he stepped toward it.

"Let's!" Alan scooped his belongings into either paw and followed after his uncle.

As they walked, the pair spoke of recent happenings at school. With every step they moved a bit closer, until the man draped an arm over Alan's shoulder lightly and the conversation took up a more personal tone. Talk of cute guys at school and the like.

The two rounded a corner, and the teen's vision spun for an instant. His knees buckled, and his stomach leapt into his throat. A surprised cry flew from his lips, but his uncle was quick to catch him and held him tight. "Oup! Careful now. You okay?"

"I think so. Not sure what happened there..." Though Alan was in the dark, Dr. Mertezi knew full well what happened, though he was not about to reveal his secret just yet.

"Perhaps you just need a hot meal. Come, let's drop off those heavy things in my room, then I'll treat you to lunch. How's that sound?" The boy's stomach growled at the notion.

"You read my mind. Barely got a snack this morning, I was just too excited... to... eat." He was lead down another corridor as the portraits on the wall caught his eye. The younger rabbit could not help stare. Nearer to the front they had been just so ordinary he had not taken any notice of them, but here they took an abrupt change to the erotic. Professional photos of young men in various states of undress, posed in ways to show off their best features, detailed drawings of strange landscapes and fantastic beasts, each in positions to show just how aroused they were at the time.

"I see you enjoy my work," Alan simply nodded, "well, he chuckled, there's quite a lot more to show you than simple pictures. Come come, there's no time to lose."

Victor prepared a simple lunch of soup and sandwiches after they dropped off the heavy bags in his main office. While they ate, Alan caught his uncle up on recent family events, right up to the last big gathering. There, he paused and looked about the room, to assure it was empty of any prying ears before he went into more detail about his encounter with a very well endowed zebra.

"Very nice, it sounds as though you've been keeping yourself quite 'busy,'" he put emphasis on that last word and smirked. They shared a laugh for a good minute before they continued with conversation and lunch. The big topic for the next few minutes was his latest encounter in the resturant bathroom, with that oh-so-hunky zebra.

"How've you been enjoying those care packages by the way?" The packages he referred to were more often than not filled with little electronic gizmos, hard to find snacks, and other miscellaneous things. Buried down at the bottom, as not to bring about any question from his parents as to its contents, was a box that often spanned the length of the parcel. Within each were samples of products RHI produced, every last one of them sexual in nature.

After a moments blushing, Alan replied, "Mmmm... they're awesome. Every one is better than the last. Where'd you get the idea for the latest one anyway? It's huge... not that I mind," he grinned and shivered just slightly as he thought back to his fun romps with it late at night.

"Oh, you'll see, you'll see, but first," he got to his feet, "a tour." He knew his uncle to be a bit of a secretive showoff when it came to things he was proud of, so he took the stall in stride.

They deposited the trays with remains of their meal, then the doctor led his nephew around the complex. Alan was a little perplexed as they moved about. Aside from the bat in the front lobby and his uncle, he had not seen a single other person in the building. What more, the place seemed rather larger than it looked from outside.

Many of the rooms they passed were closed off, behind unlabeled doors. He peeked in a few, but many lay unused, while others were cluttered with debris from various projects the doctor had been working on. They dropped by the main office and collected Alan's bags, as well as Victor's laptop, before he lead onward to another room a ways down another pair of halls. The boy had trouble keeping track of where they went. Each hall looked like the last, save for what hung on the walls.

"And this is where we will be staying." Victor swung open the door and flicked on the lights in the room. Inside was well furnished, set up as though it were a bedroom. The walls were lined with a deep burgundy paper, and a plush, brown carpet compressed underfoot. At the center of the back wall was a queen size bed, and along to his left was a black writing desk, while Victor set his laptop upon.

"There is just the one bed, but I doubt that will be an issue, eh?" They looked to each other and smiled. "Ah yes," he looked to Alan's feet," if you prefer you can go barefoot in most of the building, save for a few laboratories," the doctor wiggled his toes into the plush rug, "I know I do." The boy took him up on the offer and hopped onto the foot of the bed. He shrugged his heavy load from his shoulders, then kicked off his shoes, their scent slightly potent, but not foul in the slightest, more just a soft, musky spice.

"Now, to show you my pride and joy. To the observation room!" With a clap he led the way.

~~~

Mark still lay in the soft earth under a well and truly bound wyvern by the name of Smith. The beast above was still as oblivious to the world as he'd been ever since he stumbled into this strange plant. It had him suspended above the ground, wish green vines and huge blue petals supporting the bulk of his weight. A huge purple blossom entrapped the majority of his head, almost to the neck, and a thick vine was buried his his maw that fed him nutrients. The chemicals produced within kept him well sedated and docile, as well as ramping up his sex drive and fluid production. His shaft hung below his belly, the tip suspended just over the former fox's chest.

The boy stirred slightly as another heavy dollop of goo dripped down, impacted his furless ribcage, and flowed down his right side to soak into the earth below. It was still bright out, so he dare not yet open his eyes, but he still took the time to wriggle and stretch out sore muscle. It was the same dull ache that had plagued him for days, ever since the start of his strange transformation. He lay still for some while unwilling to let the numbness of sleep fade just yet and took the time to think.

Drip. Splat.

That hunger that had plagued him for days, a desperate need for more of that sweet nectar, had faded after his huge, hours long meal; now it was just a strong craving. its powerful scent clung to him, to his every breath, and kept him well reminded of his desire.

He felt decidedly bloated, but that was hardly new, what with the four eggs in his gut. Another little wobble in one of them made him tense and moan slightly. He felt that shake right against his swollen testicle, and made him well aware of just how long he'd gone without cumming. Had the events of the past days not been there as distraction, he might have gone mad with need. All this focus gave rise to his shaft. His slit parted and welled with fluids, before the black, rubber-coated tip slipped free.

As just an idle gesture he drew his arm from its position draped out to the side with the intention to rub over the offending member, but as he moved something felt just wrong. Finally he opened his eyes and looked over at his paw. It had changed quite dramatically since he had fallen asleep. Each of his fingers had more than tripled in length, and his thumb was in a somewhat awkward, vertical position, its knuckle heavy and wide. The claw on it had grown into a rather wicked talon, while the other nails had all but disappeared. Black skin had grown between each digit, and he could not help but bend and flex them to feel the strange sensation that accompanied the altered flesh. More membranes had grown from his shoulder to the base of his thumb, as well as under his greatly lengthened arm, this stretch longer than any other, from his 'little' finger, right to his torso. His brain had already wired itself to accept the new input, but it still felt so alien to him.

Drip. Splat.

Mark sat up slightly, shock on his face, and looked over the rest of his body out of a sense of morbid curiosity. His arms did not bend quite as he expected, so it took him a bit of effort to find a position that worked to support him. What he saw surprised him more than the changes to his hands. His torso had barreled out, not just his stomach as he expected from that huge meal, but all over, from his tailbase, all the way to his heavy shoulder blades. He realized in just a moment that his hips had shifted to a new configuration, and moved his legs to a more angled position. Had he stood up, he would have been as stooped as the wyvern above him. His neck seemed more mobile than before, longer as well. No more fur seemed to have fallen out as he slept, so he was left with just the line down his back, the bush behind his cheeks, and the fluff at his tailtip. He could no longer see the individual bulges of the eggs in his gut, though was still quite rotund.

Drip. Splat.

The latest dollop landed squarely on his nose, and as a reflex his tongue darted out and slurped right over the top of his muzzle. The muscle was about as thick as it had ever been, but was much longer. He stuck the changed length straight out as far as it would go, and crossed his eyes to stare at it.

Though he was still a bit upset at his kidnapping, he had to admit, all of it was fascinating. Since all this began this was the first time he really had a chance to stop and think somewhat clearly. He didn't miss the boring drudgery he had suffered through day to day, the feeling that he was just passing time until the next menial task he was set upon. It may have just been the hormones thinking for him, but he felt a sense of purpose in all this.

Drip. Splat. Lick.

He rocked back, then rolled forward to his feet shakily. Somehow he felt heavier than before, but he just blamed that on the changes to his body. Mark gazed down to his former footpaws. The fur had not fallen out past his shins, so they were left fuzzy, but no less wicked looking. His toes had stretched out into talons, and his arches had stretched out a bit. His dewclaw had migrated south toward the back of his heel, and had lengthened somewhat as well. Behind him, his tail stood straight out, and twitched here and there of its own accord to maintain his balance. His arms settled at his sides rather naturally, his knuckle toward the ground, ready to catch his weight were he to fall forward.

Drip. Splat.

Mark peered over his shoulder at the captured form of Smith. The wyvern seemed a bit smaller than before somehow, though he figured wrongly that it was just a trick of his mind. He had indeed grown larger. The focus of his eagle-sharp eyes scanned down to that long, soft, dripping shaft.

That rich flavor, the feeling of that shaft pressed against the roof of his mouth and tongue. Oh, it was all so tempting. That coupled with the fact that the ache in his body was always abated by a bellyfull convinced him to sate his hunger. He stooped awkwardly and, after some trial and error, he worked out the right way to balance on all fours, turned about, and ducked under the plant-bound beast. His long tongue snaked out, wrapped around the shaft before him, and slurped it inside.

'Just a couple of gulps...' He thought to himself as he began to drink. As mouthful after mouthful flowed down his throat all those aches and pains disappeared just as he had hoped, but that familiar euphoria crept up on him and made him lose all notion of time for just shy of an hour before he pulled away. Mark had drank more than another meal's worth, and his hunger was satisfied for the time being. As the transforming teen stepped backward, he stumbled slightly in the soft soil. In an instant his altered arms shot to the sides and gave a solid flap to keep him upright.

The newly grown flesh that made up the membrane that would soon be his wings was still very sensitive, sensation to them made all the more potent by the fact that it was entirely new to his nervous system. As the wind caught between each of his long, delicate fingers, the skin billowed slightly and the feeling of that made him moan out deep in his chest. The sound was unlike any he had ever made before, deeper, more resonate, with a slow, rolling churr right at the back of his throat.

'Woah,' he thought the word, as well as tried to speak it, but he could not even mouth the first letter. He scrunched his freshly scaled brow in brief frustration as he tried for another minute to say other words, to count to three aloud, even his own name. The closest he came to that was a brief growl, followed by that odd, bubbly churr. He found that he made that sound almost by default at the moment with every long, slow breath he let free. If he concentrated, he could make it stop, but the potent effect of the wyvern seed in his belly made him far too distractable, and he'd start again mere moments later.

He gave a little defeated sigh and slumped in place. He tried to think again of his situation, to ponder if he really felt okay with this, but at every thought of worry a half dozen distractions came to the forefront. The subtle shift of the cool breeze over his arms, the new way the muscles in his legs settled by default and flexed to support his weight. The way his stiff tail twitched now and again on its own, not in a soft swish as he had as a fox, more like a jolted arc, the entire length moved at once. That strange, but delightful sensation of the last of his fur against the scales beside them, one brushed over the other in time with the shifting air currents, of which he felt innately aware.

A sharp jolt deep in his gut tore him from his reverie. It was one of the eggs again. They were getting more active by the hour. Mark just assumed it a matter of time before he would have to lay them. He thought back to how he got here, that first encounter with one of these strange beasts, a strange beast that he was becoming more like all the time.

'If getting these four out is going to be anything like that going in.' He shivered slightly. Of this entire ordeal, that was, by far, the most painful part. Sure, he had played with many a toy prier to that encounter, but to be stretched so entirely, filled so completely, and to have such a huge mass forced into your body. His thoughts focused more and more on the sexual aspects of that encounter. The memory of what he experienced physically intensifid in his mind, and he closed his eyes loosely. As though it were etched on the back of his eyelids he saw the scene from that day.

New instincts overlayed his memory. The former fox imagined he had been a willing part of that coupling. His body moved in time with his thoughts. Rear lifted into the air, forequarters dropped to the ground, weight balanced with wing knuckles. In his minds eye he saw the leathery limbs fully formed, a huge wingspan that stretched out of his vision. Even as he stood there, feet on the lichen path, face tucked under Smith, his nose right next to the white-stained soil, he knelt in the clearing under a huge, powerful female in need of an incubator.

As soon as the tip of the huge wyvern's ovipostor tucked itself into his body time seemed to slow. Even the sounds that reached his ears ground to a crawl. A powerful, deep growl began to fill his throat, which only grew in intensity as he felt himself stretched open in all directions. The bulbous, firm tip shot deep into his body. Though the real thrust was over in seconds, the dilation stretched that out to nearly a minute. He was made acutely aware of every last nerve impulse that arced from the delicate walls of his altered passage. The long, cylindrical shaft buried itself straight up into his body, with the psudo-head squished up against the inner sphincter of his egg pouch.

His testicles were still as swollen as they'd ever been, and the imagined pressure against them caused him to squirm about. What more, the fantasy had a strong effect on his real body. The black, tapered shaft between his legs dropped free of the eternally-moist slit that made up its home. By reflex the upper third coiled in the air, then pressed into the slightly spongy lichen path. In his mind pre dribbled from the tip, but in truth his prostate flexed and flexed to no avail.

The next stage brought his focus on the length within him to full attention. As he had experienced twice before, the female over him stood still and shuddered, grip on him firm. The ovipostor unfurled forward and the constant pressure against his inner wall made his body relax and arch further, into the perfect position to accept what was to come. He licked at the air and dig his powerful talons into the ground as all at once it ballooned deeper. A thick mass was swept along with it, and settled tight in against Mark's slit, the bulk of it settled against the base of his swollen shaft.

The huge wyvern atop him clasped her jaws around his shoulder right where Smith had bit him, and sunk her fangs right into his scales. The pain, to him, was real, but only for an instant. Though there was not any venom present, his body did not know that. The dizzying, giddy effect of the female's toxins took hold, and pushed him to new heights of lust.

As the shaft within him flexed and pulsed, the pressure behind that mound intensified, and he felt no alternative but to push back in order to accept it. All at once his hole dilated, stretched, then engulfed the egg, and pulled it right up into his ovisac. He let out a sharp, bestial cry and shuddered violently as the solid from squeezed past his testes.

Mark's eyes fluttered open again, and he let out a groan. The weight of the four eggs in his belly made themselves known in his awkward position, and the state of his cock was next on the agenda. The former fox was half-curled over himself, head tucked under his bulk, eyes facing straight at the shiny, black coated tip of his length.

It was longer by a fair margin since last he saw it fully hard. Red was just barely visible underneath the coating in the bright sun, and the tip just about graced the base of his ribcage. His barreled torso made his proportions similar to a horse. With how long and flexible his neck had become his nose almost touched it without any strain, and he could not help but let his tongue slick free and wrap around the sensitive, black head. The flavor of his natural fluids, musk, and rubber was his reward, along with an intense wave of pleasure. Heat from his breath and tongue washed over the cool shaft, and warmed it to the core. The intensity caused by the coating was as strong as ever, he had just grown accustomed to it, but when he felt the duality of both a shaft buried and thrusting into his maw, and a hot, wet passage wrapped around his cock he went lust blind.

He nursed and sucked at himself, but no matter how he tried, and no matter how much pleasure he caused himself, he came no closer to cumming. The familiar welling built up, the same feeling of impending release was still there after just a few seconds, but no matter how hard he tried, how hard he sucked the always slick shaft, how hard he bucked, he could not quite get over that plateau.

It took the teen a few minutes to regain control of himself, to pull away, but even then his hips bucked every few moments. He concentrated as best he could, but the haze that clouded his mind muddled his attempts. He got his body under control, but not his shaft. It flexed and coiled upon itself and his egg-swollen belly. Mark watched it, mesmerized but the sight of something on his own body doing such contortions.

Finally he pulled himself back to his feet, then stretched himself out in all directions. His growing wings were even more sensitive than ever, and the combination of sun and breeze over the delicate area sent waves of tingling echoing through his body. A soft churr filled his throat as he relaxed all over, and looked around the area in an attempt to distract himself from the issue between his legs.

'What do I look like now?' The question popped into his head. He knew his body had changed dramatically, but he hadn't seen himself in a mirror for a while now, at least not properly. The wyvern to be thought for a moment, looked to the pathway he had traveled upon not long ago with Dr. Mertezi, then made his way forward along it. His destination: the observation room he had spent so much time in.