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“And we have to review blood samples...then, well, it's shaping up to be a clean bill of health, Ms. Bradshaw."

The sharp, spotted features of Dr. Synyen greeted her warmly once he returned from the other room. Molly sat, legs crossed, on the examination bed. Her first annual physical was nearing completion.

Think about it: a year into her changes. She felt a flutter inside as the cheetah doctor beckoned her over to his desk. Once they were both seated, he spoke again:

“...now...hold on...have it here somewhere..."

The stack of papers surrendered to his clerical hunting prowess, and soon he'd found the right file for the next part of Molly's check-up.

“Here we are. Evaluation of short- and medium-term physiological changes and their impact on cognition following total-conversion gene therapy. Trimble, F. & Grayson, N. Great title!"

Molly nodded, keeping up with the conversation as best she could. While her own personal research into anthromorphing had garnered plenty of knowledge, when pitted against an expert she was outmatched. She knew it, and let him explain in detail.

“If you don't know, this is a reference text, one of many, we use when monitoring the health of our clinic's patients. I've printed a copy of it — you can take it home and peruse the details yourself after our session, but to give you a summary: we're interested in any psychological, not just physical, changes you may have noticed in the year — well...almost a full year, give or take a couple weeks — since your therapy with us."

“I see."

“It's all very routine. Given your physical has been spotless I predict no major issues mentally, just do your best to note anything you may have experienced."

Molly paused. She cast her mind back weeks, months even, scouring her memories for anything untoward. Anything that would suggest a problem. A calm sense of relaxation emerged once she couldn't find anything beyond initial jitters after the transformation. And a good thing too; Dr. Synyen had spent the past three hours running tests and having nurses poke and prod her in every feasible manner to make sure she was a healthy, happy hybrid. Once she got past the rudimentary psych exam she was ready to leave.

For Molly, her check-up had been prompted by a spate of...shall we say...aggressive moods between herself and Cade. She was acutely aware of the oestrus cycle that tended to emerge in hybrid species, a result of the radical rewriting of their genetic code with strands of their animal counterparts. Her body had begun its heat recently, and despite enjoying the very intimate bouts of passion with her lover it ate away at her — nagging her to get examined and make sure nothing was awry. Bringing forward her first annual appointment with Dr. Synyen was a natural consequence of such a mindset.

At any rate, she wasn't getting pregnant any time soon, despite her body's best efforts. According to current research the chance of interspecies reproduction depended on the similarity of the donor species. Antelope and human were far apart in the scientists' reckoning. Not that she wanted kids yet, or that there was anything wrong with thinking about family, but Molly had to battle the fact her mind was under the influence of powerful biological urges that could overrule her rational self.

Hence why she needed to let the doc know she wasn't stir-crazy.

Aside from the heat that had been bothering her (not any more — a handy prescription of suppressants saw to that, courtesy of the clinic), a number of physical changes had been found by their analysis. Some she recognised, others were a bit more subtle...

Generally, she was the same anthropomorphic antelope that had been strutting her stuff on-stage for aeons, long since passing by the age of trainee stripper and hitting Violetta's highlight reel often. The small changes manifested in things like stature — her height having stabilised shortly after therapy with a slight growth spurt towards the eight-month mark. Her horns, which proudly adorned her head, had finished growing after five months and settled in colour as a dark black. It was pointed out to Molly that her hips had widened by an inch or two over time, no doubt in anticipation of her first heat. The musculature of her arms, legs, chest, and waist had seen some bulking up — nothing that ruined her feminine curves; instead a hidden core of strength was built, aided by rigorous exercise. Hooves and hands were clean, with no signs of damage or splits in the cornified material of her feet or fingertips.

There was a female nurse brought in for the gynaecological segment of the examination. She wouldn't have been bothered by the gender of the attendant, seeing as her career was currently built on showing herself off, but appreciated the courtesy. A passing remark about her lips having become plumper made her joke 'which ones?' -- to which the nurse laughed and replied: 'both'. Further levity was not forthcoming despite the cordial overture. The rest of the checks were routine. Very mechanical. Her nipples and breasts were examined — as were her nether regions. Catalogued for future medical history. Then she was ordered to turn over and a finger prodded her asshole, checking for abnormalities. At that time Molly grinned to herself at the notion of her laying on a table, ass out, quaking like a seismic rift. Thinking about the funny side helped the time progress.

Which brought her back to the here and now, with Dr. Synyen passing to her a copy of the paper detailing the psychology of hybrids. “This next part is going to sound pretty dumb. I'm going to ask you a lot of simple questions, and I'd like you to answer them as best you can even if your think it's silly."

“Okay. Shoot."

“Right," he said, flipping over some pages, “you haven't experienced any growing pains, but have you ever had a period of strong headaches or even migraines since the therapy? Ones that painkillers failed to have any effect on?"

“No. Once or twice I had too much to drink — do hangovers count?"

“No, they don't. No worries there. Oh and by the way, please assume all my questions are related to after your gene therapy. We already have your prior medical records, we don't need to hear anything beyond the scope of your changes. Your human privacy is important to us."

“Sure," Molly replied, “proceed with the questions."

“Next: any feelings of depression or sadness? If so, what was the duration?"

“Uh..."

Dr. Synyen's opening volley was answered like a quick-fire quiz. Molly was confident she'd experienced no major changes of the kind he'd asked. The doctor smiled and crossed off several lines on one of the pages.

The bombardment continued:

“...mood swings or strong shifts in emotion prior to your heat cycle..."

“...cravings for particular foods..."

“...tiredness when you should be fully rested..."

Molly shook her head, keeping it above the parapet as she faced waves of questions. After Dr. Synyen had asked the last one, he folded over his papers and reclined in his chair. “Well then," he said, “I see no signs of anything negative so far. Emphasis on so far."

He paused. “Okay, onto the next part. We're delving fully into hybrid psychology now, so you may find some of these questions stranger than the last set. First: in your personal relationships with anyone — no matter the type — have you experienced any strong sensations of aggression or submission towards that person?"

“I don't think I understand," Molly replied, “I thought you already asked about mood swings?"

“This is a different kind of feeling," said Dr. Synyen, scratching his cheek with an exposed claw, “more powerful. You'd remember it."

“Then no."

“Good. Second: what does the word 'herd' bring to mind?"

“Herd..."

Molly closed her eyes, trying to put sense to the vagueness. Herd. The word rattled around her skull, taking the long route through her synapses as seconds became hours. Her perception dulled. The world, the real world of doctor's offices and check-ups melted into the indivisible fog. That mist; the churning cloud of inner conversation mumbling a million meaningless phrases, hoping to one day produce a sonnet from the chaos. That haze; that—

She opened her eyes.

“There was something. I felt it."

“Did you have to think about what the word meant, or was this something deeper?"

“Deeper," she answered as soon as Dr. Synyen's lips had sealed shut, “definitely deeper. It's not much, but it's there. Like, like an instinct."

“You're quite astute, Ms. Bradshaw. And you're correct. On an instinctual level there's some carry-over from old animal herd behaviours. Forming interpersonal relationships on multiple levels between two or more hybrids of the same or closely-related species, with an unconscious dominance hierarchy forming on its own. I'm sure you've read about how some lean into that kind of thing."

“Yeah. Seems a little kinky."

“Well we aren't here to judge, and whatever consenting couples...or triples...or quadruples (you get the idea) do in their spare time is no-one's business if no-one gets hurt by it. But we do want to keep an eye on behaviours or feelings that stem from the genetic graft. Impulses our once-human brains were not wired to deal with. For some it can overwhelm their sense of self and leave them in need of care. Mostly temporary. I say mostly — some don't recover as easily as others."

“Then apart from a slight presence, I'm fine."

Dr. Synyen smiled. “That's what I thought. We've come a long way in the past few decades and our clinic makes sure to keep cognitive aberrations to a minimum. It's what we're paid to do, after all."

Another pause ensued as he checked his notes.

“Any difficulty connecting emotionally with those who aren't like you?"

“Humans?"

“Or other species of hybrid. But yes, human too."

She chuckled. “Better hope not, I'm in a relationship with one!"

“I understand. That's normal. Need to ask this regardless of how well you think you are getting along. I want you to really search inside and try to find any pain points, any areas of disagreement or argument where you experienced a disconnect with your — human — partner."

“I...hmmm..."

* * *

Outside, Molly found Cade leaning against his car. Her boyfriend's face held an ambivalent look — a kind of concern betwixt fascination.

“How'd it go?" he asked, opening the passenger-side door for her.

Molly smiled and stooped her head to enter, giving her horns a wide berth in case they struck or scratched the bodywork.

“Clean bill of health. They gave me some pills to help with my heat when it flares up again so I won't be as irresponsibly horny all the time."

“Aww...shame..." Cade muttered wryly as he clipped his seatbelt.

“Shush hun. Lets go home."

* * *

Once at Molly's NuPlex, Cade strode straight to the kitchen. Molly busied herself tidying the front room before reclining on the nearest sofa. She laid out, back against the double-width seating; her legs hung over the armrest, dangling with an occasional bounce and tangle when she fidgeted. A soft sigh parted her lips as she stared at the ceiling.

“You look like you could use a drink," Cade said, returning to the room with a bottle of wine in-hand.

“Oh yes, give it," she moaned, clasping for the faraway bottle.

Cade moved closer, until just out of reach — then, with gleeful callousness, turned around. “Nope," he said in a neutral tone, “if one of us is driving tonight then we better make sure to decide now."

“Ugh, what?"

“Have you forgotten about our reservations?"

Molly cursed in a low voice, muttering 'fuck' — Cade heard her but didn't comment. The antelope breathed in and held herself in a slow exhale, hissing as her hands wandered under her skirt. The pleasurable touch of her digits attempted to calm the raging fire within.

“But I want you now," she gasped. Her pussy simmered with desire. “Let's move it to another night...let's fuck right now!" She sprang up and crawled towards Cade, her eyes carrying a haunting need.

“Whoa there Molls!" Cade manoeuvred around the hungry hybrid and sat beside her, caressing her shoulder and giving her a small peck on the lips. “Shouldn't you start taking your heat meds? I love you and appreciate the offer, but you're wearing me out."

Molly laughed. She twisted around and sat upright on her side of the sofa. After a quick straightening of her skirt she smiled at Cade. “Sorry, it just came over me."

“Don't apologise. Save it for later." He handed her the bottle of wine. Molly heard the clink of a glass as Cade produced one from the other side of the couch. “Let me drive."

“I'll check if my meds are okay to take with alcohol, then you can pour me one. No, wait..." she paused, leaning forward, about to rise, “...just water."

“You sure?"

“Yeah," said Molly, staying seated, “let's both stay sober tonight. I don't want to...I don't want to feel off later."

“Off?"

She sighed. “Something was bugging me today. When I went to see the doctor I was fine, but afterwards...part of the evaluation got to me."

“Oh, how?"

“It's hard to explain. I've been a bit obsessive this past week, with my heat screwing with my head. So I want to have some time with you that isn't under the influence of anything, heat or otherwise...I know it sounds silly seeing as we've been together for months and months—"

“No, it doesn't," Cade replied with a softness in his voice. He reached over and held her cheek. “You've been thinking about us."

“Yes."

There was a brief silence. Then, Cade spoke, an earnest look on his face:

“Anything in particular you want to talk about?"

“Have you ever felt like I was distant to you? Like you didn't understand me?"

“Uh, that's a tough one." Cade put his arm around her. “I don't think so. You've always been...well, you. Even as a human. I haven't noticed anything that different since you changed. What about you, have you?"

“That's why I want to spend tonight with my full senses. I got worried talking to the doc."

“You just wanna make sure."

“I do. Anthromorphing can fuck with your head, make you into a whole different person. I don't have that problem, but I know it can happen. And despite what my doctor says, I'm still concerned it could happen at some point."

“Something that makes you feel like you don't belong with me?"

“Yeah. Like I said — silly."

“No. Not silly. Self-aware. I'm sure we've both dated people before with absolutely no self-awareness so I'm happy you're keeping tabs on your mental health."

Molly nuzzled his arm. “Thanks. You make me feel reconnected already."

“Then we have the solution for whenever you feel this way — a little heart-to-heart and a cuddle from me." Cade smiled and held her. Molly could sense a small chuckle work its way up from his core, and shared his mellow mirth.

“What other stuff did you discuss while I was waiting?"

“You were waiting?" Molly pulled back, surprised. “The whole time? That was six hours!"

“No dummy," he chortled, “I did not wait all six hours. It was a figure of speech."

“Shame, Cade. I thought you were demonstrating loyalty to your partner. Waiting, through rain and shine, for me to return."

“Hmm..."

“You could've been my protector, my hero...if you'd just kept your mouth shut."

“You'd know I was lying."

“That would really prove how close we are."

“And save you the pain of thinking there was something wrong."

“There still could be," she shot back, a coy grin forming, “I never mentioned all my animal instincts that concerned me..."

“I'm guessing that 'herd' stuff you talked about before."

“Mmm..." she purred, clambering over to Cade with her crouched body pressing down on the cushions. A hand moved under his chin and tilted his head up to look at her, looming over him. Gradually getting closer.

She continued: “aren't you worried you'll lose me to some stud with a harem of babes...worried I'll be seduced by the inner animal in me...becoming a part of a herd, in love with an alpha male?"

“No chance," he confidently retorted.

“So sure. There are plenty of handsome hybrids working at Violetta. Maybe one day I forget to take my meds, and my heat leads me into the arms of a gorgeous hunk who takes me right there...right then..."

“My competition," he jeered, “is only competition because your biology says so." Cade ran a hand behind her and stroked her spine. Shivers ran through Molly as he pushed against her, toppling her stance. “Your heat makes you crave a male you can breed you. Fuck you senseless and pump you full of little baby antelopes. I can compete even without that urge."

“Oooh! But what if—"

She felt a tight squeeze on her lower back, then another on her ass. Cade had slipped his hand past her waistline and under her skirt, touching the soft fur near her tail and 'round the swell of her cheeks.

“What if what babe? You really want to get horny for a stud who can give you a family...maybe I'll step up to the plate, huh?" Cade kept up his seductive assault, watching her ears flush red as his teasing worked. “Maybe I should give Dr. Synyen a call — have him sculpt the perfect man for you. I'll volunteer myself."

Molly squealed as the role-play deepened.

“That'll turn the tables," said Cade, “you won't be able to think about anything but me. My body, my antlers, my cock! And then, just to make it spicier, I'll start a herd of my own. Sure, you get top spot among my loyal females, but I won't be satisfied with just one. I'll want more. Two, three, four...maybe even more..."

“Eeeh!"

“Imagine it: a whole bunch of beautiful hybrid ladies, and me in the middle, being waited on hand-and-foot. Hoof. You and the other herd-wives...uhhh...herd..."

Now it was Cade's turn to go red in the face.

“...I kinda don't know how to end this," he sheepishly stammered.

Molly burst into a fit of laughter. “Holy shit! You practised this didn't you?"

“Maybe."

“Well I appreciate the effort. Such a shame you put the kibosh on making love until after our night out — you've left me all hot and bothered."

“Dang! Foiled by my own civility."

Molly bounced back onto her seat, rear planted firmly on the couch cushions. “I liked it."

“I could tell."

“The part about transforming yourself, where did that come from?"

“I thought it would help excite you. You work with hybrids all day, so maybe you'd feel more aroused when thinking about the club and others like you."

“It worked." Molly brushed the fur above her ear, which then flicked, wafting a small current of air into Cade's face. “Y'know, I did mention it before."

“Me getting gene therapy?"

“Uh-huh. Don't get me wrong — I like you as-is. But, maybe...maybe if we wanted to start a family."

“I..." Cade paused. He looked to the side, deep in thought. Then, as Molly watched, her human lover turned to face her; and in his eyes — the truth.

“I'm not opposed to the idea," Cade smirked, “I'm actually kinda flattered you think I'd make a good dad."

“Question is: would I make a good mom?"

“That's for Future Me and Future You to fret about."

“Heh, yeah. Let's not go crazy with planning our lives together. I think we're both happy to let things grow over time."

Cade hummed. “Exactly. It's up to how we feel about each other a month from now. Several months...a year...hell, even several years."

“Now it sounds like you're pushing things back," Molly said, a wry expression catching Cade's eye, “it's been almost a year—"

“That's not what I meant."

He sounded apologetic. She felt a pang of guilt for taking the conversation in a very serious direction.

“No, I get it. To me — this still feels new. Exciting. Pleasant."

“Same," he replied, “like a family pet you haven't gotten used to."

“Could you pick a better analogy?"

“I could, but then that wouldn't annoy you as much, Molls."

She pressed their lips together and sealed themselves into a longing kiss. Almost a minute passed before either of them broke.

“That's all I need to know; we're sticking with it," Molly said, holding Cade's hand, intertwining their fingers. One human. One hybrid. Two lovers. “...despite your irritating me."

“I am just the worst, y'know..."

They began to feel each other's bodies. Skin and fur. A collage of wandering hands — leaving their imprint in the faint pinkish-beige of his flesh or the matted patches of her coat.

“Mmm...the absolute worst. And unfortunately," he said, standing up, “I have to annoy you again. The restaurant is fancy dress — so you need to pick an outfit before seven."

“Fine," she said, rather indignant but with a playful bite, “I have some respectable ensembles I could wear. Let me go and take these meds first." She picked up and shook a packet she'd received from the clinic. “I'll see how good these things are..."

Cade nodded and moved to stand up also. “And you cleared tonight with work?" he asked, approaching her, laying arms on her hips.

“Yeah, Rylan's covering my shift."

“Then let's get ready."

* * *

Rylan's own antics that day were confined to serving tables and private dances. A couple of generous tippers left him in possession of a wad of hundreds — a nice bonus for easy work. Molly's time off meant that Emily and Esper were performing on-stage in her stead. The big cat and the small cat had benefited from the spotlight, as the mood of the audience had shifted over the weeks to a fascination with predators, rather than prey. The horse hummed to himself as he recalled recent shows performed by the antelope and lioness duo — it had been the best of both worlds; daring and delicious.

What I wouldn't give for a couple more Mollys and Emilys, he thought as he walked the corridor.

Passing several male performers — new faces he wasn't familiar with — Rylan made his way to the showers. His almost-bare body flexed and tightened as he strode. His form heaved his great mass across the narrow (to him and his bulk) adjoining corridor. Glancing behind at the two males, he spied a cat and a dog, and immediately plans began forming in his head...

Gotta get the boss lady's new hires to rehearse together. They look like a good match for paired performances. Nice bodies...small but cute...maybe get one to chase the other, real cats and dogs stuff...yeah...that'll be popular...

Turning back, he grabbed and flung a towel across his shoulder, and entered the men's showers.

Or maybe I'm just too horny.

It was quiet, only a handful of people washing. Rylan grunted and set aside his things, dropping a saddlebag he'd been holding in one hand with all his attire and shunting it into the corner of the changing room locker stand with a patently unceremonious punt. His hoof clopped against the linoleum floor, and dinged the locker.

In the partial darkness of the changing room, the large equine stashed away his gear, leaving his body covered by nothing except a black leather thong. Slowly, he slid his thumbs under the strap riding high on both his hips and pressed down. The sleek black material glimmered in the half-light; the bulge beneath revealing itself, snaking free as the vast waistline around it shimmied. Russet fur formed a silken surface, allowing the thong to glide as if on a bed of air. Bending over, his buttocks went taut. And then he let go of the loose article of 'clothing', sensing it fall to his ankles.

Righting himself, the towering stallion felt his cock bounce free. Its huge, cylindrical girth bobbed in the stale breeze of the air-conditioned room. He stepped out of the perimeter his thong formed as it lay strewn on the floor, his member swinging with each rise and fall of his powerful legs. There was no partner, no private paid encounter at the club's leisure to sate his current lust. His pillar hastened its hardening, now standing free and upright as the horse groaned. Even the slightest blast of air sent him shivering.

Rylan huffed and finished undressing. He reached behind and unclipped the rings that braided the fibres of his tail together. Coming undone, his tail plumed out into a wide brush. A couple of flicks made it sweep to-and-fro, catching the backs of his knees and tickling him. He stretched and shook his body, the feeling of nakedness as mundane to him as anyone else in Violetta.

After a moment of respite, he entered the showers proper. His cock swung in full view of anybody nearby, softened by the time he spent relaxing after changing. This was normal. Nobody was going to raise an eyebrow at a guy being hard at a strip club, not least of which a performer at said club — with all those juicy bodies mingling, teasing, inviting one to partake in debauchery...who wouldn't fail to be excited?

Amid the mist and steam, as hot water ran freely, Rylan pushed his fingers through his rich mane. He felt the warmth and wet as his fur dampened; the immediate sensation of joining a sauna. He found an empty stall — two tiled barriers jutting from the wall about half a metre out — and turned the dial in front of him to maximum.

The rush of hot water felt amazing. As it beat down on him from the powered nozzle, Rylan titled his head back and stood with his neck and upper body taking the brunt of the blast. He started his soak pleasurably running his hands across his torso, contemplating a return to his crotch, to cup and hold as he cleaned himself.

Deciding against it, he grabbed the soap from its holder and started scrubbing. A thick lather engulfed his top half while his bottom half disappeared into the rich swell of steamy vapour. All the while another person caught side-glances at the buff horse bathing...

Sammy had heard Rylan enter and watched him strut near to his cubicle. The young bunny's heart skipped as the object of his subconscious affection approached. He afforded himself another fleeting look or two, and drank in the scene of the handsome equine soaping himself silly. Sammy's own coat was covered in shampoo, and he rinsed most of it from his fur. Now, instead of a lather, his fur slicked down flat against the rushing water. His oversized rabbit ears were next to be cleaned. As Sammy plunged his head under the stream, he checked out Rylan once more.

Rylan reached for the bottle of special fur shampoo that sat in the cubicle next to him. Turning to approach, he locked eyes with Sammy. For a split second he stood there, dumbfounded, before quickly taking what he came for and staring once more at the shower wall. The smaller rabbit, his head battered by jets of clear water that splashed and flowed over his brow, hurriedly averted his gaze.

For the next few minutes, the pair kept surreptitiously eyeing each other. Occasionally one would catch their opposite, and they'd awkwardly look away. As the sound of the showers continued to thunder around them, drowning out the rest of the world, their looks began to last longer, and longer, until...

* * *

Dressed up and out on the town, Molly and Cade made it in time for their reservation at a venue called Laplace Coast. At ten to eight they walked up the three stone steps that stood at the foot of the restaurant entrance. Cade wore a neat, dark-blue suit with an off-white shirt and cuffs — a slight hint of tan in the shirt, and silver in the cuff-links. Molly thought he cleaned up good — trousers a little tight around the waist, but all the better to show off his ass. She chose to walk behind him as they ascended the small stepped incline, eyes nonchalantly darting across his whole behind, from head-to-toe. She greeted him with a polite smile when he turned his head to check if she was still following. The wind had swept in as a light breeze and caught his hair, tossing it but not ruining his handsome style. His clean-shaven mug gave her a 'don't keep me waiting' look.

Molly, in keeping with the standard of sensible yet subtly sexy attire, brought out one of her best pieces: a figure-hugging maroon dress with a low cut front and back, the front more modestly exposed thanks to the V-line stopping just after the curve of her cleavage. To match Cade's cuffs she wore pale metal earrings; three sets of concentric rings on each ear, spaced about a half-inch apart as they rose along the edge. A petal-patterned rosetta or 'little rose' adorned her left ear as well, balanced between her ear and her head, the colours of the fake flower shape quite alluring in the evening light.

“You know," she said once they'd entered, “this is the same place I met Vi and the girls months ago."

“Oh?" He looked surprised. “I didn't know that — I just heard it was a great place for a romantic date."

“Heh, well as life-changing as my last visit here was it wasn't romantic at all!"

The waiter attending lead them to their table and helped them get seated. Cade brushed his arms and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. The glimmer of his pinned cuffs shone with an amber tone as it reflected the interior lights. Molly adjusted her seat and crossed her legs. Opposite Cade's black shoes she had on a pair of heels that attached themselves to each hoof by wrapping around the splayed end and climbing up to her ankle. These were the first good pair she'd found for her species, and aside from a pair of rubber-soled 'hoof protectors' she had bought recently for when the ground was dirty or cracked this was the first real footwear she'd worn since...well, for a while...

“It feels strange with these on," she said, gently kicking Cade's shin.

“I don't know how you even keep your balance most of the time," he joked.

They were interrupted by the waiter who took their food orders. As they placed theirs, they made time to look around at the clientele. Humans and hybrids. Not as lopsided as their semi-suburban neighbourhood. It always felt more lively when there was a decent mix.

Continuing their verbal spar, Molly spoke once they were alone again: “besides it being second nature at this point, I practice a lot. You should know, you saw how good my balance is on-stage."

“I did." Cade took a sip of the water that had been dropped off at the table. “Gotta say thank you to your horsey friend next time you see him, we wouldn't have gotten reservations any other night — whole city seems short on restaurants recently."

“I'll let him know you appreciate freeing me from my chains."

“Metaphor? Or actual chains — could be a fun bit."

“Could be. Angling to be invited to another show?"

“Maybe," he said in a seductive voice, “and would your charming lioness friend be joining you?"

“Maybe," Molly answered, responding in the same sultry tone. “Want to see her tie me up, huh...?"

A smile and a wink was all Cade got the opportunity to answer with before Molly spoke again:

“Y'know, if you want to go see another show, you're supposed to pay. Violet might not be so agreeable to a second freebie."

“We're not abusing it though — it's for special occasions," said Cade.

“Sure, but try telling her that!"

“She that strict?"

“Oh no, she wouldn't say no to me...but you notice it in her eyes — the loss of income hurts her cold capitalist heart!"

“Could be something else. I dunno, I'm not her friend so..."

“Look," Molly said with a hint of exasperation, “isn't tonight supposed to be about us? Not my job, or my coworkers, and especially not the big hunky well-hung horse you seem to be okay with me hanging out with."

“Ah," he glowered, though Molly knew he was only kidding, “you told me he's gay."

“Well...I could've said that to assuage you poor human heart. Keep you safe from the horrible truth."

“Hold on a minute," Cade chuckled, speaking quietly, “Emily certain competes with me for your affection, not Rylan; or are you that good an actor?"

“All for show, Cade."

“The things you'll do for theatre!" he joked in a faux-Britannic accent. “Molly...please...don't let me start..."

She leaned closer, elbows planted on the table, her fur brushing up against the tablecloth and skirting the edge of the neatly laid-out cutlery. “Later, babe. You can compete with them later."

Receptive to the sensual undertones, Cade nudged closer.

“Oh I will. That's why I love you."

“Me too."

Their food arrived a moment later, leading the pair to sit back and compose themselves. Few noticed anything peculiar, but they decided to keep their aggressive flirting to a minimum; save their energies for 'later'.

“Well," Cade said as the wait staff set their meals in front of them, “let's switch topic. Got any work gossip?"

They thanked the waiters before they left. Molly took a fork and poked her fried and seasoned fish, a small luxury afforded her due to her biological predilection towards vegetarianism. She'd even checked with the clinic about proper diet. Eagerly she stabbed a thin slice of flesh and tasted it. Only then, with the long-absent sensation tingling in her mouth, did she answer Cade's question.

“What counts as juicy gossip where you come from?"

“How about," he paused, thinking. “How about who's shacked up with who?"

“Uh-huh. Okay, sure." She finished her next couple of bites as Cade tucked in to his dinner. “Two of the male performers I happened to catch a glimpse of some, uh, very personal moments between them. But I don't really know either well enough to tell if their relationship is new or not."

“C'mon, Molls. Anyone you're close to end up falling for someone?"

She tried to think. To conjure a suitable anecdote to entertain her partner. She relived several moments, several times she maybe sensed...

“Huh," Molly said, making a pensive face, “you know what, I think there might be something going on between—"

* * *

The water ran heavy. Beating down upon both of them. Sammy's generous glances grew longer, affirming something deep in Rylan's heart. An...opening.

Rylan was no slouch, and returned with enticing stares — body angled to catch the jets and make them dance across his broad chest.

His approach was gentle. The hybrid horse skirted the edge of his cubicle, lowering his arms and keeping his steps soft. Advancing toward the bunny — Sammy's face hid from view — he worked up the courage to speak as he moved behind him:

“Need a hand?"

The raised, inoffensive baritone of his voice resonated within Sammy, the rabbit trembling with anticipation as he sensed the larger male position himself close. The slick patter of droplets teeming from his hide and striking the floor got louder as he turned off the water and the powered jets died, their last dribble splashing onto his nose. He turned tentatively, and answered:

“I'd like one."

Rylan accepted his cue and laid a hand on Sammy's shoulder. The smaller male flinched at the sudden, and real, contact. He swung back to his previous stance and laid his eyes low at the shower wall.

Feeling the tension, and the shiver deep in Sammy's core, Rylan spoke calmly...

“Hey, don't be frightened. I don't bite." He capped off his words with a cute chuckle, and stroked his thumb across the soft fur of the delicate rabbit.

Eventually, as they found themselves alone in the showers, Sammy relaxed. Waves of expired anxiety flowed from him. Rylan felt his nerves steady, his worry leave him...and his other hand came to rest on Sammy's free shoulder. No flinching this time.

The slender rabbit sighed and breathed in a sharp inhale as he nudged backwards. He pressed his fluffy butt against Rylan's cock, kissing the length of the equine's shaft with both cheeks; now nestling his monster as blood rushed to it.

Rylan gasped as the faint wiggling of Sammy's tail tickled the base of his shaft. His dick ran through the furrow formed by his little temptor's peach, flared head hanging between silk-soft thighs. They had begun to dry out, their fur developing a downy texture. He felt the hard throb of his awakened desire. Surging through him like a virus — infecting his better judgement. Until it became supplanted by new ideas. For now, what better judgement was there than to accept an offer from a willing volunteer? A piece of Rylan had yearned for this. Craved this moment. This exquisite, breathy stillness as their bodies gradually pressed against each other. No doubt, no second-guessing, no devil's advocate left but he who fills men's minds with sinful impulse.

“Are you sure?" he asked. His hands slid down and gripped Sammy's arms. A comforting squeeze sent the rabbit into a brief fit of gasping.

Sammy's fast breathing died down, and his looked up meekly at Rylan, melting into the protective enclosure of their body surrounding his own. He glanced away, and bit his lip, daring to continue this errant embrace. But then, before too long had passed, he returned to gaze at his present protector — his bulk formed a wall of muscle, behind which a once-friend and colleague lay, now something else entirely...

He opened his lips, parting them as drops of water flicked from his facial fur, and answered:

“Yes."