The Muscle Effect
#1 of The Muscle Effect (TF Themes)
Hello, everyone!
I am proud to present my first foray into a whole different kind of a furry/fetishy writing genre here, with my very first transformation-themed story. I've been thinking about tackling this niche for a while now, and after a good 12,000-word writing session, I am ready to post what I hope to be the first part of a series of stories centering on the theme.
So, yes, there will be muscles, excessive amounts of musky fluids, bulging pectorals, mysterious chemicals, experiments of the sexual sort, heat, musk, scheming, and a whole lot of plot and smut!
Pitch talks aside, I hope that my old readers will enjoy this story, and also that careful tagging will attract new curious eyes as well! *chuckle* I dunno, maybe this'll make someone come out of the closet with a couple of new fetish or two.
All feedback is extremely appreciated as always, so do not forget to comment, vote, fave and watch! All feedback will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
Have a fun read!
*
"So, Shawn, how're we doing today?"
The small wolf sitting on the chair by the table gave a cursory look at the white-coated tiger, and caught a sight of the swaying tip of his tail before the whole striped male disappeared behind his desk and adopted the gentle, fatherly position that was natural to him in this role, the general practitioner at the university clinic.
Shawn's own tail flapped a couple of times against the stainless steel legs of the chair and tried to meet the tiger's big, blue eyes, looking over to him across his cluttered desk. He seemed so tall and imposing, compared to the frat wolf himself, clad in an old hoodie and jeans that seemed ill-fit on such a slinky male's body. His paws were folded over his laps.
"Well, uh, okay, I guess," Shawn muttered.
The tiger's ears perked a little.
"So, why don't you tell me what okay means to you today, Shawn?" the low, resonant voice stroked through Shawn's ears.
Shawn felt his ears drop against his skull while he contemplated the question. He didn't like the room much - too clinical, with the desk, and an exam table sitting on the other side, with a disposal paper cover over it that reminded the wolf of body bags for some reason he couldn't fathom. A bookshelf behind the tiger held huge medical textbooks that reminded Shawn of those he himself had to read when it came to their size - biochemistry wasn't for the light- hearted, for sure. The air smelled of the tiger, but even he seemed oddly subdued, maybe because of the lingering scent of disinfectant that Shawn knew would stick to his own furs for the rest of the day.
Maybe he could catch a shower before John came over...if the fox did come over, the wolf reminded himself, and felt even worse about it, or the fact that he had to be there in the first place.
The silence drew onwards, and Shawn watched how the tiger's paws moved over the keyboard of his computer. Blue light flashed over the tiger's calm features as he clicked himself around what Shawn assumed to be his file, held in the electronic brain of the device that contained his deepest secrets....the same ones he was about to add to now.
Shawn cleared his throat and thought about something he could say to buy for extra time to think about it. It felt silly. He'd felt pretty confident about it while sitting on the waiting room, surrounded by sneezing, coughing and slumped furs waiting for their turn. It'd seemed so simple. Just tell about it, get some help about it, and you'd be off. Everything going perfectly again.
"Have there been more anxiety attacks or other symptoms, Shawn?"
The wolf's ears jumped and his muzzle flew up, to look at the big feline sitting behind the desk. His tail tucked itself between his legs, hanging by his once-white sneakers.
"Well, uh..." the wolf swallowed.
The big tiger smiled, and flicked an ear.
"We're in no hurry, Shawn."
The wolf began to scratch his arm slowly. The rumbling voice sure had a soothing quality to it, and that made him feel just a little better about it all, but the improvement seemed marginal at best. You'd think that after six months of doing this, it'd gotten easier, but....it wasn't much.
"Well I've been alright on that, I guess..." the wolf opened his muzzle and spoke.
The tiger nodded.
"I see. How has it been going in general, then? How're your studies? Work? Friends?"
So many questions. Shawn's tail jumped briefly on the bare plastic-carpeted floor before it curled itself around his leg again. He realized that he was avoiding the tiger's eyes again.
"Well I passed my mid-terms...just about," the wolf muttered. "It's going alright I guess. Still working with Professor Harvey on afternoons...Wednesday to Friday, yeah? It doesn't pay much but it's a little bit extra. My parents give me some each month so I'm not starving or anything...heh."
The laugh sounded hollow, extra much so in the confines of the room decorated with anatomical cross section drawings of a canine and a feline plastered on the walls and covered in cryptic Latin writing.
"That is good to hear, Shawn," the tiger spoke in his low, measured voice. "How're you doing with your peers?"
There we go, Shawn thought. Soon he could no longer be beating around the bush, but he'd have to tell. It'd come up anyway. The doctor always asked about it.
"Well I try to go out....sometimes," Shawn muttered, eyes fixed on the arrow that pointed at some muscle on the cartoonish canine's arm and gave it its intricate Latin name. "And I'm still with John...obviously..."
The tiger nodded.
"How long have you been together?"
Shawn scratched his arm.
"About...uh...about a year," he said. "I think that's about right."
The tiger smiled briefly, and again gave one of his slow, measured nods.
"Is everything going well with your partner?"
Busted, Shawn thought.
"Could be a bit better, I guess," the wolf muttered.
*
"Shawn?"
_ _
The fox's brown eyes looked down along his long nose and seemed concerned, staring down to the shirtless wolf below him.
_ _
Shawn let out a deep breath, and met the gaze of the vulpine's soft, warm eyes.
_ _
"Huh?" the wolf rumbled.
_ _
John leaned forward and brushed his lips against the wolf's, leaving his taste and his scent there, even during the briefest of contacts, before he was back up again. His muzzle now hovered a few inches away from the wolf's, and his eyes remained as they were.
_ _
"You alright?" the fox whispered.
_ _
It'd been going so well. They'd smiled, chatted, made out a bit, gotten down to their boxers and went to the bed, where the making out had proceeded to the point that Shawn could feel the fox's erection poking him in the belly. The fox's member must've filled out his boxers and made a big bulge in their front, if Shawn could have seen it ,that was, since their bodies were pressed flush together, John's against Shawn's flat belly.
_ _
And nothing had happened.
_ _
Shawn bit his lip and tasted the fox again, and his ears flattened.
"Sure," the wolf smiled quickly, and ran his paw over the fox's toned, smooth back, all the way down to rest on the curve of John's compact rump. "All nice and...heh..."
_ _
The fox's ears came down a notch, despite the breath of enjoyment he expelled at the feeling of the touch over his muscled butt. Shawn kept looking up to him, and could see the concern in those warm, considerate eyes.
_ _
"Yeah," John mumbled.
_ _
The fox's slender body shifted, and Shawn realized that he intended to roll away from him. He didn't have time to grab hold onto him before John was already on his back, lying by the wall on the narrow dorm bed that barely fit two males side by side. They both stared at the ceiling and listened to each other's breathing, smelled each other's musk, especially John's, the result of his full, persisting arousal.
_ _
Shawn took a peek at the bulge on the silky boxers and felt the familiar unpleasant twinge in his stomach.
_ _
They'd been there before, just last week. Then they'd already gotten lubed and rubbered up before this...happened.
_ _
Shawn bit his teeth together and tried not to growl. John's bushy tail tickled against his calf. Shawn's own tail jumped against his own thigh.
_ _
Shit, fucking hell fucking shit.
_ _
Their breaths rumbled audibly, and neither one spoke for a long time. Shawn could feel his heart thumping against his chest, and softly cursed himself again. This wasn't a habit he wanted to get into. He was already messed enough. He couldn't keep doing something like this.
_ _
Shawn reached out with his paw and cupped the firm mound in his boyfriend's boxers. He heard the fox gasp when his fingers closed around the telltale shape of the canine's penis. Encouraged, Shawn gave his boyfriend's erection a further squeeze.
_ _
"Shawn?" the fox mumbled, turning to look at the wolf lying next to him.
_ _
The wolf moved his paw flat over the fox's white belly furs and then began to push his fingers under the elastic of the snug silk boxers. John's ears flicked sharply as he watched the wolf, and his tail flapped against Shawn's outstretched legs.
_ _
"Sorry," Shawn mumbled even as his fingertips made contact with his lover's musky, firm flesh.
_ _
John rumbled and grasped the wolf's arm just above his wrist. Shawn's eyes snapped to his, questioningly.
_ _
"Shawn, we don't have to if you - "
_ _
Shawn let out a deep rumble and squeezed on the vulpine's slick, firm tip with his fingerpads, eliciting a sudden moan. He pressed his lips against the fox's and held them there for many moments, closing his own eyes and willing his body to go through this. His paw dwelled deeper into the confines of the fox's boxers and reached all the way down to his knot, which he then promptly squeezed as well. The fox's shaft throbbed against his wrist, and his eyes snapped open, to meet Shawn's, across their muzzles.
_ _
It was now John who was breathing hard.
_ _
"Doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself," Shawn muttered with grim determination as he masturbated his lover and claimed his lips with his own once more.
_ _
_ _
*
The little plastic box on the table let out a deep beep, followed by a sharp hiss and the lessening of the pressure in the black cuff around Shawn's arm. The tiger doctor gave the small screen on the top of the box a quick look before his glowed paws appeared and unwrapped the cuff from Shawn's bare arm with its telltale scratchy sound as the Velcro popped.
"Your blood pressure looks alright," the tiger doctor spoke as he put the blood pressure meter away to the little cart nearby, before he moved behind his computer again.
Shawn gave his squeezed arm a quick rub to get the circulation going and nodded briefly.
"Well that's good," he muttered.
The doctor snapped his gloves off and tossed them into a pedal-operated trashcan before he tapped the values for the records onto his computer.
"And you're saying that you haven't lost any weight, nor had any unusual trouble sleeping..."
Shawn shook his head.
"Nah..."
The tiger swiveled in his wheeled office chair, and faced the wolf once more, across his desk again.
"Well, considering that you have had spontaneous erections in the morning, and occasionally masturbate, as you say, I'd say that your erectile dysfunction could definitely be a side effect of the medication, as well as caused by the underlying condition as well."
Shawn bit down his teeth and let out the breath he'd been holding while waiting to hear the verdict. His tail slapped against the floor. Shit!
"So it's the Prozac, then?" the wolf snorted. "Besides...you know."
The tiger nodded.
"It is a well known side effect of the class of drugs Prozac belongs to, and obviously, decreased libido is a typical presentation of depression."
Shawn's ears flicked sharply.
"Yeah, I've sure noticed that."
The big tiger pressed his fluffy white paws together and let them rest against the tabletop, watching the wolf carefully.
"Have you been able to discuss this with your partner?"
*
The fox's paw was painfully soft on his shoulder.
_ _
"It's alright, Shawn."
_ _
His voice was painfully soft.
_ _
"I fucking know it's not," the wolf grunted.
_ _
"Shawn..."
_ _
His little body tensed, his tail flapping from side to side, smacking the fox as well.
_ _
"I'm just sorry, okay?" Shawn snapped, avoiding the fox's eyes. " I'm sorry for everything!"
_ _
John let out a sigh.
_ _
"Shawn, I don't want you to keep doing things when you aren't feeling like it! It's no use and it makes me feel so damn weird!"
_ _
Shawn growled. He couldn't meet John's eyes on a moment like this lest the tears would come.
_ _
"So now you think I don't like having sex with you anymore but do it anyway?" he knew that his voice sounded accusative.
_ _
"No!" the fox yelped. "I just know that when you feel like...like you do, you aren't really into it."
_ _
"Well I sure as fuck would like to be!" Shawn grimaced.
_ _
The fox's paws were so warm.
_ _
_ _
_ _
*
_ _
"Sometimes," Shawn muttered.
The tiger's ears flicked slowly above the white contours of his mane.
"Open discussion with your partner is essential when dealing with this kind of an issue, Shawn. Any extra stress associated with sexual intercourse is bound to increase the problems associated with sexual dysfunction."
"Yeah," Shawn muttered upon hearing the cool, clinical words.
The exam room felt chilly, now that he was shirtless, without his hoodie, and he felt even smaller and more vulnerable, sitting there under the tiger's scrutiny and talking about his failed sex life with John. Shawn only wanted to go back to his dorm and burrow under his blankets. He knew he couldn't do that, either, because today he was supposed to be assisting Professor Harvey at the laboratory from four till six. And then there was homework...
"Of course there is also the option of trying one of the oral medication options, Shawn, but I would advice you to consider that carefully," the tiger continued.
Shawn's ears jumped.
"Huh?"
The tiger smiled briefly.
"Viagra or Cialis, for example. There are a few options nowadays."
Shawn almost blushed at the idea of popping the infamous blue pill. Fuck! And he was only twenty-two years old! Weren't you supposed to need pills to get it up when you were sixty-two and not his age? It almost sounded like an insult, and made the furs on the back of his neck spike up.
"Okay," the wolf muttered.
"But since we're talking about another form of medication, and you're already taking an anti-depressant, and over-medication can always be a problem, I would definitely advice you to think about it carefully, Shawn. And to discuss it with your partner, of course. Sexual dysfunction can be a problem for both of you, and you should both be informed of the facts. There are many things you may try besides medication."
Shawn let out a tired breath.
"And be able to discuss it, yeah, sure," the wolf rumbled.
The tiger frowned briefly, but didn't seem to be fazed by the sudden, if mild, outburst from the wolf sitting in front of him. His paws remained in their calm, restful posture, too.
"Exactly," the tiger smiled softly. "And I can refer you to a specialist should you wish to explore either the medication option or wish to hear some advice on other ways to overcome these kind of problems, even with your condition."
Shawn glanced over at the big industrial-style clock on the exam room wall. It was twenty to four now. He'd have to get going soon, or face the wrath of Professor Harvey for being late. His tail flicked against his overflowing shoulder bag on the floor by the chair.
"Well...I guess I'll think about it then?" the wolf spoke, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible, and his eyes fixed on an old coffee mug holding pencils that stood on the tabletop.
The tiger nodded peacefully.
"I think that would be your best option, Shawn," the tiger smiled again. "And if you have any other questions, or want to explore the options we discussed, or talk about anything at all, you know where to find us here at the clinic."
Shawn snuffled wryly as he reached for his T-shirt.
"Been here a few times, huh?" the wolf muttered.
The tiger chuckled in his low, rumbling manner, and was grinning still by the time Shawn's head emerged from its clothed prison again. He still had his hoodie to put on, and that forced him to spend a few extra moments in the examination room he had slowly come to loathe over the time of his illness.
"Indeed you have, mister Permit," the tiger spoke from his throne.
The scent of his own musk and deodorant washed over Shawn's nose as he pulled the hoodie over his head and then tugged on its hem as he stood up and grabbed his heavy bag from the floor. The wolf almost grimaced, hauling it over his shoulder and feeling its weight pull him down, as if to symbolize the load on his mind as well.
Shawn, now fully clothed, gave the tiger a look and a nod.
"Well, good day then, doc," Shawn muttered.
The tiger bowed courteously.
"Good day, Shawn," the tiger smiled.
Shawn made a vow not to breathe another lungful of the disinfected air of the room and thus he was out in a few steps, past the door and into the corridor outside, well on his way.
The exam room door closed with a click loud enough to make the tiger's ears flick sharply. He turned a little in his chair again, and pressed a small round button on top of a box sitting next to the landline telephone on his desk. A small electric buzzer sounded, and a raspy voice came through.
"Yes, Doctor Gorman?"
_ _
The tiger rubbed his chin with his free paw as he leaned closer to the little box.
"Leticia, I'll take my next patient in fifteen minutes. I need to do some extra paperwork about my previous case."
"Yes, Doctor Gorman."
_ _
"Thank you, sweetheart!" the tiger rumbled and released the button.
Private and quiet again now, the white-coated tiger let out a deep purr, and rubbed his palms together.
"Well, well..."
His eyes glanced over at the computer screen. It still displayed a mug shot - like picture of the wolf, from the student registry, and contained a list of the lupine's former visits, as well as subfolders that contained his health records and the information on the medication he was currently taking. The diagnosis was clearly marked there as well, being clinical depression, diagnosed by Doctor S. Gorman, MD, who had prescribed a course of SSRI's. Besides that, the wolf was in perfectly alright health. Not a college football or track star by any means, but otherwise alright.
The tiger picked up the comfortably heavy receiver from the phone and took the pleasure of slowly dialing the plastic, square buttons with the numbers only he knew. He held the phone up to his ear and leaned back on his chair, waiting patiently as the dialing tone went off one, twice...four times before there was an answer.
"Yes?" the sharp voice replied on the other end of the line.
"I think our plans for Phase Four are now a go," the tiger rumbled calmly despite the jitters in his belly that he was now allowing to come.
There was a silence on the other end of the line for quite some time before the sharp voice returned.
"With choice A?" the voice demanded.
The tiger let out the purr he'd held back, and smiled toothily against the received nestling onto his cheek.
"I'm...positive."
A sharp breath could be heard over the old line, before the voice returned.
"Excellent. You know what to do."
The tiger's smirk widened.
"I certainly do, honey," the big cat rumbled.
"I'll see you in eighteen hundred hours, then."
The tiger's tail lashed out excitedly and slapped against the radiator below the window, leaving a brief warmth over his appendage.
"Of course."
"Thank you."
"Thank you," the tiger breathed.
*
Shawn stomped across the grounds, paws stuffed into his pockets and his head slung down, the way he always walked, trying not to look at the passing furs. Laughing girls, strutting jocks and geeks, everyone mixing together, leaving scents, sights and sounds of other kinds of lives that reminded the wolf about what it felt like to be...just normal. The graveled path rushed under his sneakers and made his ears flick occasionally against the hood, pulled over his head now. It helped keeping the world outside by limiting vision to the sides, of course. It made things a bit easier.
The Marriott Building was another old three-storied stucco nightmare built in the 1950's that always reminded Shawn of an abandoned mental hospital, except for the always numerous undergraduates hanging near the big arched portico that led into the double doors giving entry into the building. Since it was almost four pm, things were winding down for the most part, something Shawn was grateful for as well. Professor Harvey didn't seem to mind working late hours, and he almost always stayed even after Shawn would leave, usually around six. Shawn hadn't questioned the German Shepherd about his private life much, and the Sheppie hadn't shared too much on his own either, besides his love for Bach and occasional glass of merlot that probably went with Bach.
Shawn passed the security guard's station as he rounded the corridor into the laboratory wing without much more than a token nod at the beaver sitting behind his desk and trying not to fall asleep while staring at the fuzzy security CCTV screens. Shawn knew that he was a familiar sight here, and anyway, he had a photo ID card hanging around his neck, to tell everyone that he had a right to be here. Its magnetic stripe opened the milk-glass door at the end of the corridor marked "DEPARTMENT OF BIOCHEMISTRY - LABORATORY COMPLEX C".
The wolf walked slowly along the linoleum-tiled floor. It wasn't such a long walk from that point onwards, only one more corner, before the corridor abruptly terminated at the big steel-plated door that read "ELLIOTT HARVEY - PROFESSOR". The card reader by the door let out a sharp beep when Shawn slid his card through the slot and gained admittance through the heavy door that opened by the push of a hydraulic piston over the top - Shawn wondered whether it genuinely was too heavy to be moved by a simple fur's strength, but he couldn't figure out how to test that hypothesis.
There was a brief continuation of the corridor beyond, with doors opening on all sides. Shawn went through the door on the left, leading into the small locker room where he held the distinction of having his own locker, to hold his stuff in while he worked with the professor at the laboratory. Shawn opened the old style combination lock and unloaded his book bag, his phone and other loose items into the steel cabinet before he took his white coat from the locker and slipped into it. Buttoning up took only a few moments, followed by the picking of disposable shoe protectors from a dispenser on the opposite wall, and thus equipped, he was ready to enter into the private realm of the illustrious professor Harvey.
The wall opposite to the locker room door had a window on it, with the blinds open to show that there was nobody in the office beyond. That told Shawn that the Professor most likely was in his laboratory, accessed by yet another swipe of his card, and a swing of the doors.
No matter his daily association with this place, Shawn was always impressed upon the first view into the room. The long space with a low ceiling was littered with tables, all filled with exotic laboratory equipment of exactly the kind everyone ever wanting to study chemistry had imagined ever since they were cubs. Test tubes, hoses, Bunsen burners, decanters, bottles, rows of exotic electric equipment by the far wall, fridges with glass doors and "BIOHAZARD" markers, bio-containment cabinets with in-built rubber gloves for manipulating samples within the protected interior, and five computer monitors flanked by a high-backed office chair, so high that it barely admitted the sight of the canine professor's ears.
"Professor?" Shawn called out from the door as soon as the doors had closed behind him and he was now enclosed in the cool room.
The ears perked and the paws that had been working on a keyboard stopped, and then the chair swung, and the tall male stood up. Professor Harvey was wiry and seemed almost too tall for the room, his ears were tall as well, and he wore wire-rimmed glasses and a pocket guard with pens on it that only added to the sense of being in the presence of a first class scientist. His long muzzle was spread in a small smile, and the energy, which was something Shawn ever so often envied, especially in his current mellow state, could be felt even in the filtered air.
"Shawn!" the German Shepherd announced, walking across the room to meet his afternoon assistant properly with his customary gesture, a pat of his paw against the wolf's shoulder.
Shawn's tail swished from side by side, like it always did when the wolf had to face with sudden physical proximity, but he stood fast, and mustered a smile over his muzzle.
"Hello, professor," the wolf said. "How're you doing?"
The Sheppie gave his student another smile, and stepped back, so as to more easily converse with the wolf who had entered into his private parlor.
"Well hello to you too," the Sheppie replied. "Same old, same old! Kept myself busy with marking essays for so long that I've barely had the time to go and keep checking on my experiments."
The Sheppie waved his dark paw in the direction of the room and its mysterious magical equipment.
"Okay," Shawn mumbled.
The tall canine stepped over to one of the nearby tables and picked up an old-fashioned writing pad from it, which had a sheet of paper attached to it. He handed it over to Shawn, who took it quickly.
"That's a list of things for you tonight, Shawn," the Sheppie said. "A few reagents to mix and a couple of the hydrogen values to check from the incubators, nothing too much tonight, I think! Can you imagine, a slow night at the lab?"
Shawn snuffled a little, and gave a polite nod. The Professor was probably thinking himself to be particularly amusing, with those little smiles and allusions, as always, but the wolf was almost deaf to them. He didn't feel amused at all. He wondered whether that was because of the meds, or simply because the Sheppie wasn't funny. He couldn't quite tell. It was difficult to read the Sheppie, anyway. It was as if he was always trying a lot. So different from old Professor Spillet and his Asperger's ways.
"Well, guess it gotta happen at some point," the wolf mused.
"Indeed!" the bespectacled canine grinned. "Why don't you get to work now and check number 8 incubator in the back room? I'll pop by my office quickly and will be right back."
"Okay, Professor," Shawn nodded.
The Sheppie sauntered away towards the laboratory doors. Shawn snuffled to himself, already feeling bored with the menial work even before it had started properly, and headed in the opposite direction, towards the door on the other side of the lab marked "ENVIRONMENTALLY CONTROLLED AREA."
It probably sounded fancier than it really was, Shawn thought as he pulled the heavy metal door open and then closed it behind himself. He sure was glad that he wasn't suffering from claustrophobia, for the tiny room that acted as the airlock between the main laboratory and the area beyond was barely big enough to fit two furs comfortably. His ears popped once, and he swallowed to equalize the pressure before opening the door into the incubator room.
Shawn wasn't sure whether the air was so hot in there because of all the electric equipment running, poor air circulation, or some sort of a heating to ensure that the samples requiring a steady warm temperature genuinely did stay at that state. Whatever the reason, his face started to feel damp within the first minute inside the room. His task wasn't too complicated, though. Incubator number 8 was a metallic cylinder with tubes and pipes attached to it, standing between two identical units, each on a wheeled cart for easy mobility when needed, and a little computer monitor displayed readouts from the sensors studying the experiment at every second.
Sometimes the wolf wondered whether the Professor asked him to do this on purpose, simply to have something for him to do. He was pretty sure that all of this could be done by automatically recording the values onto the computers, rather than having the lowly undergraduate manually jot down the numbers into a complex sheet of paper that hung on another writing pad attached to a hook on the side of the incubator. It was a maze of boxes, each of which had to contain a number he had to check from the little screen. His eyes were starting to feel sweaty, too, and he had to blink, leaning closer to the panel, pen in one paw, the pad in the other.
"How the fuck did you do all this 20 years ago..." Shawn muttered to himself, envisioning the time before computers, when all the chemical magic happened with much more rudimentary equipment. Maybe he could ask the Professor about it, he was of the age for that.
Well, it still beat doing the homework, though. Shawn didn't really feel like hauling his ass to the library to do cramming on his amino acids again, and working late offered the perfect excuse to just go to his dorm and relax for the afternoon. Maybe John could even pop by after leaving his shift at Seven Eleven. Maybe they could even try to do the talking the doctor has suggested.
Shawn's stomach churned at the memory again. Talking to the doctor about his dick not functioning had been embarrassing enough, but it was nothing compared to the fact that it had happened a dozen times with his boyfriend now. All those perfect occasions, all those spoiled moments...all because of him and his damn tired mind not coping. Those damn pills he needed to get out of the bed in the morning and get to do exiting stuff such as recording just how much hydrogen the bacteria inside the metallic cylinder were shitting out. Life was great.
The air seemed even hotter and heavier than before, and the wolf snorted deeply. His eyes were heavy, and sweat had already accumulated over his face furs. Shawn hated the incubator room. He was glad that he only had one of the tanks to go through today. His record was four, and by that time his coat had been sticking to his arms and his back, and he was sure that even the flimsy plastic guards around his sneakers had been filling up with his sweat.
Shawn blinked, scribbled a number onto its allocated box, and moved onto the next row, keeping his eyes carefully on the screen with its blinking, shifting numbers. He hit a couple of buttons to recall the median values and blinked when the numbers seemed blurry.
The wolf huffed and leaned closer to the panel in an attempt to read the numbers properly. It almost seemed like they were floating in his field of vision now, and he couldn't just concentrate on them...why couldn't he...what was that...a 4 or a 6...
Shawn blinked his eyes hard again and slapped the floor with his tail. Was the room really so much hotter than usual that he couldn't stand it for more than a couple of minutes at a time? It wasn't supposed to be that hot, he thought. Maybe he needed to take a break and...
Clap!
The damn pen fell from his paw and slammed against the tiled floor and made a loud clicking sound. Shawn's ears flicked sluggishly and he looked down to witness the pen rolling down the slightly sloping floor towards the metallic drain on the center of the room.
"Fuck!"
His tail swept the ground as he turned around, slowly, clutching the writing pad as he leaned down to pick the pen.
An odd heaviness rushed through his head, and Shawn realized he was going to fall only a fraction of a second before his legs gave away and he collapsed onto his knees before falling onto his belly. Air rushed out of his lungs with the sudden "thump" of his body onto the hard, cool floor, and the writing pad made an even worse a racket as it landed by him, with the wolf's arm on top.
Shawn took a deep breath and tried to push his elbow forward, to prop himself up and help himself up from the floor, by his arm wouldn't budge. Why wasn't it doing what he wanted? Why was it so...
Oh God, Shawn thought, something horrible was happening and he was going to pass out, he was...what the fuck was happening? He felt light-headed, his breaths were quick and his paws felt heavy...even his tail lay limp and wouldn't even lash out with the agitated piercing through the wolf's mind.
He needed help. He was alone and he needed help and...
"Prof...." Shawn growled, his lips dry, suddenly, "...Haaaaarvv.....prooooffffff...."
_ _
Shawn's lips formed one final syllable before the voice disappeared, and his tongue hung limp from the corner of his muzzle.
*
The video camera was positioned on the corner on the left side of the door to the incubator room, and provided a fish-eye view of the entire area, not in a crisp HD, but more than enough for anyone observing to see what went on inside. Currently the image feed was displayed on the computer monitor standing on Professor Harvey's desk, with the Sheppie standing restlessly nearby, his eyes fixed on the monitor.
"Come on..." the Sheppie muttered to himself, his voice going down into an uncharacteristic growl.
He gave a glance at the clock on the corner of the computer screen and felt his tail slap against his ankles again. It'd been two minutes since the wolf had entered the room and he had hit the electric switch that opened the remote valve letting the gas flow into the incubator room. If he had calculated the volume of the room right, along with mister Permit's body weight and taking into account his species and the physiology...
The Sheppie's heart hammered as another minute passed, and he was wondering if he might have actually made a mistake in the calculations. Perhaps the flow regulator hadn't been set to introduce the gas into the room rapidly enough, and the concentration wasn't rising as fast as he had calculated...and he had checked those calculations twice!
"Come on..." the Sheppie growled.
There was no sound in the CCTV feed, but his eyes immediately picked the blurry shape of the pen dropping.
"Loss of motor control..." the Sheppie breathed passionately, and felt his stomach clench as he stared at the display with morbid fascination.
The wolf on the TV screen turned around, seeking the pen with his eyes now, his tail swaying lazily. His left paw seemed to be...yes...
"Loss of balance..." the Professor breathed.
The wolf went down to his belly in a flash, and that was Professor Harvey's cue. He pulled open the desk drawer containing the radio switch and hit the flashing button to immediately cut off the flow of gas into the room. He pushed the drawer closed and grabbed the aluminum case standing next to his desk and then rushed through the door into the atrium, his coat lapels flying behind him as he hurried along. There were no seconds to spare, he knew, the gas was unpredictable, especially administered such a manner, and there was not knowing...
The Sheppie rushed through the laboratory doors and navigated between the cluttered tables until he reached the marked metal door. As he put down the aluminum case and began to open it, Professor Harvey realized that his paws were shaking. He squeezed the handles with an astonished look on his face. When was the last time he had felt this excited? His tail was wagging!
The case flew open, and the Sheppie grabbed the gas mask and pulled it securely over his muzzle before he yanked the door open and then forced it shut before waiting for the automatic spring. He was careful in opening the inner door so as not to hit the wolf lying unconscious on his belly on the floor. Professor Harvey pushed his paws under the wolf's splayed arms and lifted him only enough to pull the prone, limp male through the door and into the airlock. He had to put Shawn down for a moment to pull the door handle down, and then he grabbed the wolf again and pulled him out into the main laboratory floor itself.
"Now, now..." the Sheppie muttered to himself as he turned the wolf over to his back. The white-coated wolf's head lolled to the side and even more of his tongue slipped out between his unmoving lips.
Professor Harvey willed his paws to move more slowly and efficiently as he pulled the clear plastic mask from the aluminum case and turned the knob to release the oxygen before he pressed the mask over the wolf's muzzle and used the elastic cord to place it safely over the drugged wolf's maw and nostrils. Only then did he place his paw gently around Shawn's neck and felt for the pulse, which, to Professor Harvey's relief, he discovered to be steady, after a moment of fumbling. This wasn't what he was good at, he thought, but it was what he had to do, if he wanted to go through with what they had planned.
Professor Harvey was satisfied that any remains of the gas that might have escaped from the incubator room surely had dissipated by now, and pulled the gas mask off his face and dropped it down to the floor. He drew a deep breath and felt happier now, and his tail gave another excited jolt.
The wolf was still limp and lifeless, but he was breathing, as indicated by the mask fogging up after a few moments over Shawn's muzzle. The Professor smiled at the sight and dug into his oversized case to bring out even more equipment. The blunt-tipped scissors cut through the wolf's lab coat and T-shirt and soon exposed his scrawny chest, at which point the scissors were dropped down. The small razor that came next might have scraped the skin a little, but it was necessarily so that the Professor could slap small plastic pads against the wolf's bare skin. He attached the cables and the strange clothes peg-like instrument onto Shawn's left index finger with efficiency he had practiced before, with...him...just for this occasion, so that they could pull this all off safely.
"Alright...let's see how you're doing Shawn...little Shawn..." the Sheppie murmured as he hit a switch to turn on the small screen attached to the inside of the lid of the aluminum case. A steady beeping appeared from an invisible speaker, and the green seesaw shape on the tiny screen, and the small numbers on the side told him that the wolf's heart was beating a steady 43 times per minute, and the oxygen content in his blood was a fantastic and normal 99 percent.
A broad, content smile appeared over the Sheppie's long muzzle. The quietly breathing wolf was safe now, something that filled the Professor's mind with a great deal of relief. He had been worried of this phase, had planned so many alternatives and had seen this as the one most useful, after running through so many scenarios. The sedation had been exactly as controlled as he could have hoped for, and things had gone just the way he had planned them, with him.
"Alright then..." the Sheppie couldn't hold back his excitement, he had to speak, to talk, even if there was nobody there, except the unconscious wolf, eyes eerily open despite being completely out cold. Professor Harvey gave them a quick look and almost found himself jumping at the contact with the nonreactive pupils staring emptily at the ceiling. He really was being too nervous for his own good, and laughed at his reaction.
"Right...haha...right...next thing up..."
He pulled out the small stainless steel box from the case and opened it with now somewhat more controlled fingers. The Professor was glad for this steadiness, because this box contained the pre-filled syringes, and he did not intend to bring any harm to the wolf lying sedated by him.
The smell of rubbing alcohol was strong in his nose and made him wince and wrinkle his nose pad as he patted the furs on the wolf's arm after pulling the sleeve back. The Professor used his teeth to pull the protective cap off the first syringe and injected the first dose into the wolf's bloodstream, quickly followed by the second injection. He knew that the first syringe had contained the antidote to the inhaled anesthetic, and the other included a mixture he had made that would keep the wolf in a more controlled sleep for at least several hours. That, too, had been carefully planned. The gas was unpredictable. The injections were more easy to supervise and calculate.
Mathematics, gotta love them.
Professor Harvey spat the plastic caps from his muzzle, closed the stainless steel box, checked the wolf's heartbeat from the monitor, and then stood up to his full height and looked down to the obliviously sleeping wolf on the laboratory floor, and that same, broad smile spread over his long muzzle.
"You're going to love this, Shawn," the Sheppie rumbled, his tail wagging heavily. "And you're going to be so grateful."
The tall canine let out a victorious bark and then grudgingly left for his office, to fetch the gurney.
*
Since when had the bed been so hard?
Shawn's eyes were still closed and he was floating in the comfortable zone between unconsciousness and the world of the living, not a single tension in his lean lupine body, his tail limp, his paws resting by his sides, and his breaths coming easily. It was so perfectly warm and comfortable, except for the fact that his mattress suddenly felt much harder than usual, but that was probably just some sort of a waking dream. He had a springy bed, it was nice, bouncy, even, he'd put the springs on the test with John many times, getting cozy and...
John...the pretty fox who liked cuddling and sex in the missionary style so that that they could trade sweet kisses while thrusting into each other, usually taking turns to be within one another even during one evening so that both got the best kind of pleasure out of it. The fox who was patient when he was having a bad day, and who kissed him and told him that he was a great guy...
The fox he had disappointed...
The thought flushed through Shawn's mind, but he couldn't be too troubled, feeling this warm and comfortable, despite the odd sensation of the mattress being weird. It felt so stiff against his bare back, and his rump...
Shawn's ears perked a little. His bare rump? But he always slept wearing comfy old boxers, not fully au naturel, not usually. So why was he feeling the mattress under his bare ass? It was the same odd mattress sensation, too, not as springy and warm as usually.
Warm?
It felt cool, too, now, and...odd. Where was the softness of the sheets? He had nice sheets, they were warm and good to lie in and even hump his sheath at when feeling like it, and the silky feeling would...
His eyes felt so heavy...if he'd just rub them a bit, maybe they'd feel more refreshed...
So why wasn't his left paw moving, either? Shawn tried moving his paw, but some unseen force kept it from moving besides a token inch, before he simply couldn't move it any further. Now that was odd.
Oh well. I'm just dreaming things, Shawn thought. Right paw it is. A nice rub and I'll be up.
His right paw wouldn't move either.
What the hell? Shawn tried both of his paws again, but they weren't moving more than very little. Weird. He was supposed to be starting to feel a bit more awake, too, considering that he'd felt...well, conscious, for a couple of minutes now. He should open his eyes and check the time from the clock. Was it already time to get up to shower up and get some breakfast from the cafeteria and prepare for another day at lectures and work? Was it another day with Professor Harvey today? Why couldn't he remember the date?
Light!
There was sudden light rushing towards him, light he couldn't explain, and a weird feeling against his eye, too, like...well, Shawn couldn't explain it, but the light appeared first in his left eye, then his right, and along with that odd sensation, and he gasped, and tried to cover his eyes again, but his paws wouldn't move!"
"He's coming around."
A voice made his ears flick, surprised, it was coming close, he wasn't sure where, but there was a voice, it was there, he'd just heard it. Was it related to the light? Shawn tried to move his paws again, but they wouldn't budge. Huh? His ears did move, though, and he flicked them again, and opened his muzzle, too. His tongue felt dry. He tried swallowing, but it didn't help much. He rumbled.
"...took him quite long..."
_ _
That was another voice, Shawn was sure of that, another voice speaking close by, and he couldn't say who it was. Why did his head feel so heavy and why couldn't he move his paws.
"...wearing off..."
More light, but this time it glowed through his eyelids and filled them with a golden hue that made him want to squeeze his eyes closed more firmly, which only led in more sparks flying across his field of vision. That wasn't helping at all. Maybe he could open them and face the light. He had to.
Shawn forced his eyes open, and saw eyes looking back to him.
Eyes and a striped muzzle hovering only a short way from his eyes, eyes and a muzzle and...
"He is definitely coming around now, Elliott."
Shawn blinked, partially from the brightness of the light, and the shock of seeing the face looking down to him, a face he had looked at only...well, he wasn't sure anymore, but only seemed to have been a moment ago he'd been staring at the same face and feeling like crap.
"Do..." the single syllable left his parched muzzle, and faded out.
The striped face and the eyes remained as they were, looking down to him intently, and Shawn began to wonder. It was the doctor, wasn't it? The same doctor he'd told about his dick, and now he was there again, looking down to him? Had something happened? Was he in a hospital and the doctor was treating him now? Gorman, yes? Gorman something. Doctor Gorman of the university campus clinic. Had the tiger taken him to a hospital because of something weird happening to him?
Shawn blinked and wrinkled his nose, and out of a hunch, tried to wriggle his toes and his fingers, and much to his relief, found them to be moving, even if he couldn't lift his paws. He realized he couldn't lift his footpaws either, in a sudden rush that made his eyes wide, but the relief of realizing that he wasn't paralyzed from the neck down was something at least.
"Doc.." the wolf tried again.
The striped face pulled into a smile.
"Yes, that's right, Shawn, it is Doctor Gorman," the tiger rumbled, so close that Shawn could smell his breath. "I'm afraid you're a bit confused yet because of the anesthetic, but that should wear off in a few minutes now that you're awake and with us again. You've been out cold four a few hours, in fact."
Hours? Shawn's ears jumped again, and he tried to move his paws, but the results were exactly as meager as they had been before. He could see a whole lot better, though, and the tiger's face seemed clearer to him now, even with the bright light coming from above. It still made him want to blink extra hard, but Shawn tried to keep on looking, for now.
"What...." he muttered, his voice found again. "What happened?"
"I had to put you down to sleep," a voice spoke, coming from beyond Shawn's field of vision, and to the right, he suspected.
That voice...
The stripe face of the doctor turned into the direction of the voice, and Shanw could see that he was still smiling, and did so as well, when he looked back down to the wolf once more.
"Oh yes, my Elliott put you to sleep and took you down here to wait for me so that we could begin," the tiger said. "He did so well."
Elliott?
Another face appeared, next to the tiger's, emerging into the brightness from the invisibility of the darkness that surrounded everything that wasn't directly below the beam of light shooting down onto the wolf's face. Shawn had no trouble recognizing that particular face, for it belonged to the Professor he worked with so often, and who had been the last fur he had seen before...before...
Before what? He could remember talking with the Professor at the lab, and then there was nothing before this moment, with the tiger looking down to him and speaking strange things, and now the Sheppie was there as well? Huh?
The German Shepherd smiled broadly and looked down to the wolf, excitement shining over his face, his eyes sparkling behind the glasses.
"I am so truly sorry I had to do it like I did, but I couldn't just really tell you what I wanted to do, because you might have reacted badly to it, Shawn," the Sheppie spoke, ears flicking.
The wolf's brow furrowed into a frown as he listened to the strange words coming from the muzzle of the man he respected, for his intellect and his kindness. He was making no sense, even for an eccentric biochemist, that was, and it made Shawn's hazy mind feel even more confused. What was he doing here? What were they talking about?
And why couldn't he move?
Shawn decided to try to look somewhere that wasn't the pair of faces hovering above him, and chose onto his feet, since he had established earlier that that the were still moving according to his will. He tilted his head forward and looked down along his body, expecting to see...
The wolf's head froze and his ears flattened against his skull in and instant. He could see all of himself, belly furs, sheath, toes and all, and what he saw as well were thick, broad bands of some sort of material going over his limbs, his belly and his chest, securing him onto whatever platform he was lying on, and it definitely wasn't his own bed! There were white wires over his chest, too, and a quick flash of eyes to the left and right told him that his arms were tied down, a cable was attached to his left paw, and there was a taped-down tube on his right arm as well, with a clear plastic coil going up to a plastic bag hanging above.
Shawn let out a strangled bark and his whole body tensed, pushing against the restraints covering his body. His tail lashed out and slapped the air before it hit something that made a thudding sound, he pressed, arched his back and he struggled, trying to move more than the inch or so approved by the strange black bands holding him still.
A beep went off to his left, and the tiger's eyes jumped to the direction of the sound before they came down again, to Shawn's face, followed by gloved paws pressing onto the struggling wolf's shoulder.
"Alright, Shawn, your pulse is going up now, you should try not to get so agitated..."
"FUCK!" Shawn yelled, his eyes open, his muzzle agape, and his entire body tense and arched as he fought the restrains with all of his modest strength. "Fucking HELL!"
The paws remained on his shoulders and pressed down on him, trying to keep the wolf from moving, in addition to the black bands that secured every part of Shawn's body onto the strange firm surface, and to his horror, the wolf realized that he really couldn't move at all to escape from his current predicament.
"Calm down, Shawn..." the tiger doctor rumbled again, still close to Shawn's face.
The wolf snapped his teeth together, growled, and tried to lunge towards the tiger, but found that he simply couldn't reach him, not with the restraint around his neck, too, making it impossible for him to move his head more than a little to each side without painful pressure on his throat. His heart raced and he was practically hyperventilating now, his body going into an overdrive and his panicking mind fighting with all its might to stay on top of the impossible, insane situation.
"...calm down, you won't be hurt, Shawn..." the tiger continued, speaking in a low voice and looking down to the wolf's dilated eyes, "...you won't feel pain and you won't be hurt...oh no..."
"GET YOUR FUCKING PAWS OFF ME!" Shawn hollered, his tail trashing around as he again tensed every muscle in his body and pressed against the restraints.
"Hush, son," the Sheppie's voice joined that of the tiger, and Shawn's eyes snapped momentarily in the direction of the bespectacled Professor, looking down to him, with his big paw coming to rest n the wolf's arm.
Shawn tried to yank his paw away, but his arm wouldn't move, it was tied down, and he could feel the Sheppie's paw on his bare own, a soft pressure there he couldn't control, he wasn't able to move, he couldn't...
"...you're going to experience something wonderful, Shawn, and we want you to be fully aware of yourself when it happens," the tiger murmured, unmoving despite the wolf's attempts to struggle against him, "...you deserve that experience, Shawn, and I would not mar it with another dose of sedatives..."
"LET ME GO!" Shawn growled, hacked his throat, and tried to spit in the tiger's face, but failed to produce enough saliva to make more than a little dribble over his lips.
"I don't think we're going to be getting far like this, Spencer," the Sheppie rumbled.
Shawn's muzzle opened in terror and he drew a deep breath, and initiated another push against his restraints, to try and be freed from the clutches of the obviously insane tiger and his canine accomplish. They'd trapped him down here and were now planning to do something to him, and he was going to...he wasn't going to be able to escape!
"I think you are right, Elliott," the tiger replied.
"FUCK!" the wolf barked.
"Shawn, "the tiger rumbled, "I wished we could have explained it all to you before we begin, but since you are feeling so agitated, we must proceed immediately."
"LET ME OFF!!!!"
"Shawn we can't let you harm yourself, even accidentally. I'm sorry that we have to proceed before telling you all about it."
"YOU FUCKING CRAZY SON OF A BITCH!"
"Shall I?" the Sheppie spoke, smiling at the tiger across the thrashing wolf on the leather platform.
"Yes, Elliott, I think it is your honor, like it was when you did this to me the very first time," the tiger smiled in return, and leaned closer towards the Sheppie.
"FUUUUUUUCK!"
Shawn yelled and hollered and couldn't believe his eyes when the tiger and the Sheppie locked lips in a soft kiss, over his own, agitated body, kissing as if they were on a romantic park bench and not standing over a wolf who had been drugged and stripped and strapped and was about to be subjected to some blood-curdling horrible experiment.
The thought made Shawn fall limp again, pant, and simply stare in terror at the light above him.
Professor Harvey was a world-class scientist and an expert in biochemistry. The students didn't know even half of what he had done, or what he was currently doing in that laboratory of his. There were places in the complex where Shawn's key card wouldn't let him into. He had published in so many journals in so many subjects that there was not knowing what else he had accomplished, something that couldn't be made publish...but to be tested in secret.
Tested.
Shawn's heart raced so hard that he thought for a moment that it might decide to stop altogether from sheer exhaustion in working at a maximum overdrive. The cold terror made him freeze in his platform. He was going to be used as a subject on some horrible experiment, concocted by the Sheppie in his brilliant and by now obviously also brilliantly insane mind, and Shawn was going to be the unwilling living test subject.
"Pro...professor...."
He realized that the kiss had ended, and the tiger stood on the left side of him now, while the Sheppie stood on the right, by his arm, the very same with that tube attached. Shawn's eyes jumped to the plastic bag that seemed to be glowing under the bright light. Anything could be inside, in solution in that clear fluid inside the bag, and a tube went from that bag into his arm and it would be entering his bloodstream at the Sheppie's whim.
The German Shepherd's ears flicked as he heard the wolf's croaked words, and he looked down to him again, smiling broadly.
"Professor...ple...please....no..."
"Yes, Shawn, it's going to happen now, and you're going to love it."
"PROFESSOR!" Shawn barked.
The Sheppie's gloved hands manipulated the bag and then fell down to his sides, but his eyes did not move away from the wolf's, nor did his smile wane.
"NO!"
Shawn stared at the bag, barely breathing now, his chest frozen with terror.
"Do you have the camera ready, Spencer?" the Sheppie spoke.
"It is ready, Elliott," the tiger's voice came from beyond the cone of light.
"Infusing the compound now," the Sheppie spoke, his voice rumbling, and Shawn could feel the constant sound of a tail wagging. "Time mark...2022 hours."
"I concur," the tiger replied. "Pulse is 126 and consistent."
Shawn stared in horror at the clear tube, obviously now freely passing the mysterious unnamed fluid into him, through the needle pushed into his arm, the same limb he couldn't move.
"With his body mass, it should not take long."
The wolf's agitated mind suddenly started to feel more sluggish again. Was this the third way of dealing with a life threatening situation, he wondered, idly, staring at the clear tube and the bag it hung from. You either stayed calm, panicked, or simply...stopped caring, and laid there. Was that happening to him now? He wasn't struggling anymore, nor was he shouting, or panting, or demanding to be released.
It was as if he wasn't feeling anything.
The earlier haze had been induced by drugs, but this, one of his mind, felt different. Softer. Stranger, too, but it was there. Making it so easy to simply stare at the tube that was going to be doing who knows what to him, and he had absolutely no control over it. He was giving up.
"Effects should be imminent soon," a voice spoke.
Was it the tiger or the Sheppie? Shawn wasn't sure, but he didn't mind. He only heard the rush of blood in his ears, and the thump of his heart that seemed to be slowing down. Odd warmth filled his limbs, too. Was he going to fall unconscious again? Were they putting him out again for the experiment to continue while he was sleeping? Hadn't they spoken that they wanted him to be awake for it? Had they lied?
His skin tingled under his shaggy furs.
"Two minutes," the voice again. "Pulse 109."
The sensation continued, odd, warm, tingling that spread from his arm and then down his shoulder, and then to his chest, soon covering every single inch of his skin. The wolf's skin felt alive, as if something was vibrating underneath it, making it heat up, not unlike having your furs spike up, but this time it was happening all over his body, everywhere at once. It felt like being scared, in a way, how your skin felt when you got a scare, but Shawn didn't feel scared. He only felt...he wasn't even sure he was feeling anything, except the physical sensations of his blood rushing and his skin acting in such a peculiar manner.
Tingling, warming up, itching.
Shawn gasped when he realized that his sheath was tingling as well, on the outside, on the inside, as well as over the skin of the dormant organ hiding within the fold of skin, everything was coming under the same sensation, that odd, electric spark that seemed constant, everywhere over him. It felt almost like how your arm did when it went to sleep, first numb, then tingling all over, unpleasant, but soon to be over, but now the feeling continued, persisted, and existed over every single inch of his skin simultaneously.
Shawn barked, his lips tingling, itching, his tongue unable to stay still.
"He has reached phase one, I presume," the tiger announced. "Pulse 120 and climbing again."
Shawn's ears burned, in and out, making them flick rapidly, and it felt like even the insides of his eyeballs itched and tingled, forcing him to blink.
"He's starting to exhibit!"
He began to squirm, restrained or not, that itch had to be scratched, and the only thing he could do was to move in the only way available to him, to rub his naked body against the cool leather underneath him, try to relief at least part of that sensation, that heat, itching, that weirdness that was overtaking him. He realized that his cock was suddenly fully hard, too, out of its sheath, the cool air barely effective over the slick skin as the sensation all over his skin intensified and made his body tense, taut and trembling.
"AAaahahahahahaahhhahhhah!!!!!!"
Now it almost felt like someone was tickling him everywhere simultaneously, including inside his head, the sensation exploded everywhere, forcing his body to tense, flex and shake against his restraints, while his muscles went through the process of tensing and relaxing, multiple times each second the wolf shuddered in his restrained bench.
"Phase two," the tiger announced. "Full endocrine stimulation will begin imminently. Pulse 140 and climbing. "
Shawn no longer comprehended the words he heard, seldom as they came, but he wasn't there, he was in a world inside his head, inside his body, that strange, heat, electricity running through him at a pace he couldn't follow. The sensation didn't have a point of origin, no source nor destination, his body shuddered and was filled, heated, and squirming, restrained or not, he was moving and his skin burned, deeper, hotter, warmer, the electricity was incomprehensible and even when he did open his eyes, he only saw stars, colors and meaningless shapes. What did "pulse, 180" mean anyway? The haze intensified, he felt his body, and did not, he was floating and falling, he was burning and he was...
"I think he's going to emerge!"
"Pulse, 200!"
Suddenly, somewhere in the very deep, primitive part of Shawn's highly educated brain, somewhere, a few neurons fired, connected, realized the chemical signals they were subjected to, and put a name to the sensation coursing through Shawn's body, his skin, his bones and his core.
Orgasm.
The wolf's cock, fully hard and pulsing against his writhing belly, jumped up by the tensing of the muscles deep within his pelvis, and with a great contraction, began to spew his watery canine cum all over Shawn's body in long, hard spurts.
The musk hit every three noses inside the dark room. The fluids splashed against the wolf's arms, chest, belly and face, the floor as well, and instinctually, Shawn's hips, no matter how far beyond motor control he was, began to hump the air desperately, propelled by a primal instinct catching him full speed amidst the storm of chemicals and fire inside his body.
"Full endocrine stimulation!"
"It's beautiful!"
Joyful voices echoed off the walls, mixing with the constant "aAAAAAAAAHHHHHhhhhhhh" coming from the wolf, the sound nobody had tried to restrain, even when his body was so well secured into his platform. The voice escaped from his lungs, not unlike the cum spurting out his endlessly contracting organ, painting his furs with its white offering that clung onto the shaggy, sweaty furs. The musk intensified with every glob of cum appearing from the spitting cock, its knot burning, the entire surface of the engorged, red member burning with the same sensation that flowed through the wolf's body.
The endless, breathless pleasure made his muscles contract, burn and throb, driven past their limits as the orgasm continued, burning, spitting, splitting the air with cum and musk and the wolf's continued howl of pleasure mixed with the nearly painful sensation gripping his body, of the never-ending orgasm, of the heat, exhausting heat running through him, working him...
...and the tension just wouldn't stop growing.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!"
His spine curved, his legs and his neck pushing him up, fighting the restraints again. Every muscle in his body began to twitch, making his cum-matted fur and skin crawl, going in waves over his entire form.
"That must be phase three...it must be, Elliott!"
"That it is, Spencer! Myofibrilotrophy! It's happening! It's happening!"
Shawn's jaws chewed thin air, his eyes opened and closed, his fingers and toes flexed out sharply, his claws pushed out, his tail jumped up and down, his body trembled, shook and shuddered, his hips humped against the invisible force drawing his seed out of him, and his chest expanded with huge, loud breaths that sounded like air escaping out of a released balloon.
The bench began to rattle as the contractions increased.
"It's happening...it really is happening on him..."
"Pulse 220! We're maxing out!"
"He can handle it!"
The hyper-extended limbs trembled so fast that the eye could no longer follow their pace, so fast it happened that they now appeared still. A whole different kind of movement began, however, one that captivated the eyes of the canine and the tiger watching, muzzles agape as they witnessed the miracle of their making, happening in the very front of their eyes.
The wolf boy's furs were matted smoothly against his body, from the sweat pouring out of his glands and the cum still occasionally being splashed from his spasmodic member, and that, too, enabled the onlookers to see how everything simply, outright, with no further need for elaboration in terms...expanded.
Arms, chest, belly, thighs, calves, wherever there were muscles, there was movement, spreading, stretching the skin taunt over the newly forming tissue that bulged, solidified and trembled. Muscles flabby from underuse became rock hard. Shapes intensified. Veins popped up onto the surface and pulsed with the desperate beat of his accelerated heart.
Where there was none, there were soon mounds, full of tingling pleasure-pain and strength. Blood rushed through vessels building themselves at record speed, and the lungs inside the massive, broad chest struggled to provide enough gasping breaths to stop the wolf from fainting while his body was reconstructed with such speed that the two pairs of eyes on him followed every inch's emergence from nothingness.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
The wolf's body arched once more, and when his head flew forward, so did his hips, and the final splash of cum flew from his straining, massive organ, to land over his face with a loud splatter that had an odd sense of finality to it. Shawn's eyes popped open, his muzzle opened, the final bark escaped from his constricting throat, and then he fell back, with a heavy thud despite the restraints. There was so much more to fall now, too, with the wolf's body covered in the ripped muscles that had appeared out of thin air, under their very eyes.
Then he lay completely still but for the rising of his chest.
Doctor Gorman blinked once before he rushed forward, to check the numbers flickering on the small screen that had streamers of cum sliding along its liquid crystal display.
The tiger's tail wouldn't stop lashing.
"Heart rate, 210...200...190...180...170..." he panted.
Both of the males watched how the unconscious wolf's chest expanded before a huge, content breath slid out of his muzzle, which then lolled open and remained so, as his eyes fell closed and an immense snore escaped from his throat. The once familiar face had filled out as well, and his voice was certainly deeper than the meek near-whisper they were familiar with.
"...160....150..." the tiger blinked, staring at the readouts with burning excitement filling his own chest now as he admired the beauty of accomplishment. "...good God...vitals are returning to normal levels..."
Professor Harvey rearranged his glasses over his muzzle and admired the sight of his undergraduate assistant dozing on the bench.
It truly was a sight to behold. The naked wolf, with a huge boner still throbbing against his belly, over rock hard abs, well...rock hard everything now that the process was through, and every single muscle cell in his body had been compelled to multiply. His chest as a dual slab of massive pecks, and the hairy crevice between them was filled with sticky cum covering the furs there. His nipples stood out, comparably tiny, but clearly visible now, among the sea of flesh. The shoulders had broadened up and the arms still restrained to the wolf's sides bulged with muscles and never-before-seen strength. Even though he was now asleep, exhausted into unconsciousness from his transformation, you could see the tension there, hidden in the muscles now proudly displayed all over the cum-soaked, muscled lupine body.
And the best of all, he was beautiful.
They might have broken every rule in the book to come here, but they could see what they had done.
The wolf sleeping there was perfectly proportioned. He did not look like he had had air blown into his limbs to make them into cartoonish shapes. He had become solid, muscled and huge, but everything fit his body in a manner that suggested that the wolf had always been beefy, muscle-bound and strong, and hadn't simply gained 100 pounds of muscle mass within minutes. He was perfect
Damn.
Looking at the sheer sculpted beauty of the oversized, perfect wolf had taken its toll on poor Professor Harvey. He had grown hard and now the Sheppie's erection pressed against the front of his neat black pants, painfully hard as he inhaled the enhanced musk that filled the air. The smell tickled his nose and seemed so thick that it could almost be tasted over his tongue, practically hanging out of his muzzle as he breathed hard in his excitement.
He couldn't help it. His paw fell down, to rub over the mound...
"...90 beats per minute and dropping still, Elliott!" the tiger's voice exclaimed victoriously.
He barely listened now, instead simply staring at the sleeping beauty, watching him, breathing him in. He had to swallow a muzzleful of saliva that had accumulated seemingly in moments.
The wolf rumbled in his sleep and carried on.
The Sheppie's ears jumped, and so did his paw, leaving his aching groin too fall over his side. He looked over to the tiger across the glistening form of the muscle-bound wolf, and smiled breathlessly, eyes filled with passion.
"We did it," he smiled.
The tiger pried his eyes away from the heart monitor, and returned the expression with a toothy grin. Gone was the professionalism and the nervous excitement from before, and instead, there was a big cat with wild eyes, an almost boyish smile, and a busy tail.
"Oh we did it...and we have so much to be done yet, Elliott!"
"I love you, Spencer!" the Sheppie declared, openly, his tail wagging.
"I love you too, Elliott!" the tiger replied, his smile beaming from one corner of his muzzle to another.
The Sheppie felt the rush of emotion, and would not have liked anything more than going over to his lover and taking him into a firm embrace, but science called first, for now.
He cleared his throat and quickly turned to close the IV drip. His paws were trembling again, but he didn't mind...it didn't matter anymore. They had done it. The wolf was the proof of their brilliance, and had served them well.
The tiger moved according to their pre-determined choreography and soon he stood by the canine, with another plastic bag in his paws, presenting it to the Sheppie.
"The dextrose-protein-sustenance serum mix, darling" the tiger announced with a deep smirk.
Professor Harvey attached the tube from the new bag onto the needle sticking out of the sleeping wolf's bulging arm and then hung it over the bed, making sure that the replenishing fluid was flowing before he finally turned to face his tiger.
Gorman was already standing there, his arms open, and welcoming smile all over his muzzle.
"We did it!" the tiger beamed.
The Sheppie wound his arms around the stocky tiger's back and pulled him into a deep, rough hug, embracing his mate with the comfort of years' worth of intimacy allowing them to enjoy such closeness under every circumstance. The tiger purred deeply and pressed his lips against the Sheppie's, softly at first, then with more intensity, both at the purr, and the kiss that continued.
The immense amount of musk in the air mixed with their familiar scents and the excitement that had been burning in their blood throughout the day soon got the best of the grappling pair. Without the need for a verbal cue, clothes were soon flying onto the bare floor of the mysterious concrete-walled room. Lab coats, latex gloves, nice leather shoes, pants, belts, all soon piled up while the two bodies writhed together. The sleeping wolf's ears wouldn't even flick at the sound of their rumbles, or the deep, aroused breathing of the two males celebrating their victory in the most carnal way possible.
They stood by the raised platform, one arm around one another, cock to cock, slowly thrusting against one another while their free paws groped all over the prone form of the wolf, scooping up globs of potent, musky cum from his newly muscled chest, belly, anywhere they could find, and rubbing it against each other's faces, muscles and lips. The tiger eagerly suckled what the Sheppie gathered from the wolf's neck furs and pushed his fingers against the lopsided-bespectacled male's muzzle. His pink tongue pushed out and lapped everything up like an obedient kitten lapping on a platter of cream, before he happily swallowed the tingling fluids and purred deeply, feeling it warm up everything all the way to his stomach.
The Sheppie growled at the sight of bliss in his mate's face and kissed him again, forcing his tongue past his lips to catch a good taste of the musk that was bringing such joy to his striped lover. The slippery fluids mixed over their tongues and made a froth over their muzzles. The patches of enhanced wolf cum over his own face and arms began to tingle pleasantly and only added to his deep arousal and need for the male he held onto, keeping him close to his own, panting form.
Their next scoopfuls of cum went onto their cocks, each in turn taking the time to lavish one straining member with Shawn's spunk, to spread the goopy substance over hot skin that instantly began to tingle with the mysterious properties the now tainted fluid contained. It made their own cock spurt and throb rapidly, and make the burn of the lust intensify.
"Oh Elliott..." Gorman panted, staring into his mate's eyes.
"Y...yes?" the Sheppie growled passionately.
"Just think how it'll be when he'll be able to join...." the tiger groaned.
The Sheppie ground his hips against the tiger's, and moaned.
"Oh yes..."
"Oh Elliott...."
Their humping when on in a rough, serious rut until the tiger pushed his paws against the Sheppie's chest and pleaded.
"Take me, Elliott!" the tiger panted before he turned, placing his paws onto the edge of the platform the wolf rested on, presenting his striped ass and even lifting his tail out of the way to show his complete submission and give his hole to his lover.
The Sheppie's eyes fell onto the round rump and the little hole between the cheeks, momentarily before his aroused, rumbling form ambled forward and his cock thrust against his mate's backside. He grabbed the purring male and pulled his hips against his lap, humping into the slick crack and drooling excessively over his back, to mark him as his very own mate, now and forever.
"AhhhhtakemeEllliott...."
The Sheppie barked and thrust hard until he found his mark and filled the tiger's ass with a series of rough, grunting pushes that forced his thick organ into the tiger's body, making him throw his head back and slam his hips backwards to meet the Sheppie's cum-stained groin.
"Ahhh please...Elliott...."
The tiger mewled as the hips began to rock, fucking that thick knotted cock rapidly into his tight ass, no finesse to the act at all. The rut continued, heated and propelled by the musk filling the air.
The tiger grabbed the edges of the bench and leaned closer, to rest his chin against the wolf's slowly rising chest, just over one massive newly formed pectoral muscle, and began to lap up all the cum he could find, all the while the Sheppie held roughly onto his hips and pounded the tiger's ass. His raspy tongue washed over the wolf's hard nipple and tried to suckle on it when he wasn't too busy moaning out the pleasure burning inside his own body.
There was no stopping either of them until the big, aggressive knot pushed into the tiger's quivering asshole and locked their bodies together, ultimately and for good, with a few desperate bucks coming from the scientist's hips before he unleashed a torrent of his own seed inside the tiger's burning, purring depths.
The tiger, eyes closed, swallowed another muzzleful of cum, and felt the burn intensity. His own cock unloaded as if by instinct, from the pressure against his prostate, the musk, the heat in his belly, and the sheer sense of accomplishment in what they had done.
He might have been tied to his lover, covered in cum and spraying the sleeping wolf with his own feline seed, he had a big dog collapsed on his back and panting, and the wolf rumbled and made cute ruff-ruff sounds while sleeping away the most exhausting five minutes of his life, and he knew.
Doctor Spencer Gorman, MD, knew that they had only just begun.
*
TO BE CONTINUED?
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