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Lorenzo Baltamo worked the checkpoint kiosk at the head of the tunnel leading to the BAL-Envoe Conglomerate's high-security chemical storage facility. It wasn't the most interesting job ever, but it paid well enough, he got to watch as much TV as he wanted, and he'd even gotten an anti-terror commendation for stopping a couple of particularly inept wannabe terrorists who'd had the temerity to ask "where the sarin at, yo?" All in all, though, it was a good enough job, technically indoors, and every so often something interesting happened to break through the monotony.

Like the unusual individual that was currently approaching the kiosk, for instance. It was a little... uncommon to see someone show up on foot, given the tunnel's fairly remote location, but every so often someone's car would break down on the nearby highway and someone would come looking for assistance. That was why there was a miniature cell tower set into the tunnel wall, to allow people to call for roadside assistance if necessary, and there were even a couple of filled gas cans in the storage shed behind the kiosk to get people back on the road, instead of hanging around to let their curiosity get the better of them.

This one, though, was even more unique in that it only appeared to be partially human. That was a thing now, of course, ever since those crazy blue dog-people had exploded all over the airwaves a few years ago. There had been a bunch more types that had shown up since, but Lorenzo had never actually seen one in person before. This one, he noted, wasn't bright blue at all, but looked vaguely, almost youthfully canine in appearance, with a sort of truncated muzzle and dalmatian-patterned fur. And a tail, of course, which seemed especially bizarre given that the guy seemed to be wearing some sort of overalls.

Lorenzo watched warily as the fuzzy person approached the kiosk. It was probably nothing - it was almost always nothing - but it was out of the ordinary enough to set the security guard on edge.

"Um... can I help you?" he asked through the side window opening.

"Hey!" the visitor replied. "I'm Isaac! I was kinda wandering around and got lost, so... is this the place where the fun stuff is?" Isaac looked up at him through the window, his tail wagging in anticipation, his fuzzy face looking a bit too excited. What did he think this place was, anyway?

Lorenzo went to reply, but grunted in discomfort as he felt the crotch of his underwear becoming uncomfortably tight. What the hell? Why was he getting an erection now? It wasn't like the guy at the window looked all that attractive - well, maybe to some people in a thin, fluffy sort of way, but despite the unique look and all the fur, he was definitely a guy. And if there was one thing Lorenzo knew, it was that he really, really wasn't into guys. It was probably some stupid thing, something he might have been daydreaming about before Isaac had showed up unexpectedly. Regardless, he had to act professional, so he tried to shift himself in his seat to take some of the pressure off as he replied.

"Buddy, this is private property, and you're not allowed in here without authorization. If you need roadside assistance, there's coverage here, or I can call you a-"

"Fun stuff?" Isaac asked again pleadingly, looking up at Lorenzo with the sort of puppy eyes that only a hybrid like him could pull off. Lorenzo had to admit that the dog-person did look ridiculously cute like that, but it didn't change the rules. He moved to reply, but then gasped wincingly as the fabric of his underwear rubbed intensely against the suddenly oversensitive tip of his penis. What the fuck was wrong with him? Lorenzo looked Isaac over again - still, nothing attractive about him. None of what was going on made sense. Maybe he had a UTI or something? Not an STD, surely, given his sex life...

Grimacing, he struggled through the sensation and tried to shoo the visitor away.

"Look, seriously, there's no 'fun stuff' here, so why don't you take a hAAAAHHHNN-"

His pelvic muscles suddenly spasmed, and a harsh, intense shiver shot up his spine to splash through his mind in a bizarre, discordant wave of pleasure. Somehow, he realized before his mind went momentarily blank with the sensation, he'd managed to cum from doing nothing but sitting there. Sure enough, his pelvic muscles were pulsating uncontrollably, soiling his boxer briefs with rapidly cooling ejaculate. He looked back at Isaac, his face tense with shock and flushed with shame and sudden humiliation, desperately trying to maintain his composure as he tried to figure out how he'd manage to lose control like that. Even now, squirming in his soiled underwear, he could feel his erection surging forth again. This was wrong, this was all wrong, but somehow it was happening...

It wasn't until he saw the man approaching behind Isaac's puzzled face that he realized just how wrong the situation was - and that his unexpected climax, as inexplicable as it was, was probably something other than natural. What was it? Gas? It didn't matter, though, as the man was almost up to the kiosk door.

Lorenzo reached for his holster with a trembling hand, but before he could get there, his whole body shivered out of his control as another orgasmic shudder shot through him. How was that even possible? Even with the most beautiful woman he'd ever been with, it had taken several minutes to recover, but even as the shivers abated and his body shot another load to expand the embarrassing wet spot spreading across his crotch, he felt the sensitivity building up impossibly again.

The door rattled and swung open, and Lorenzo struggled to get his body back under control as Isaac continued to stare cluelessly back up at him.

"Hey, mister, you all right?" the dog-man asked, even as Lorenzo gasped for breath and pawed desperately at his holster with a hand he could barely hold steady from the enervating aftermath of back-to-back climaxes. He looked over to see the face of the suited man grinning back at him from behind the ski mask, and even as the panic of the situation set his heart slamming against his chest, another almost painful burst of orgasm wracked his body before dissolving into another wave of pulsating pleasure. His body slumped limply against the kiosk console, the overwhelming relaxation of the combined afterglow managing to overtake his visceral sense of panic. All he could do was lay there, gasping in bizarre, almost floating happiness, as the man reached over towards the gate controls.

"Just relax and let it happen," the man whispered in Lorenzo's ear as his hands worked glinting metal tools rapidly across the control panel. "It'll be over before you know it."

Lorenzo heard the gate cranking open behind him, even as his body continued to climax beyond his control. It was some sort of drug, it had to be... Whatever it was, though, there was nothing Lorenzo could do against it. His conscious thoughts and actions faded away under the sheer onslaught of sensations coursing through him, overwhelming energy-sapping relaxation clashing with the oversensitivity each time he shifted even slightly against the saturated fabric clinging to him - an intensity that rode the line between searing pain and overwhelming ecstasy before flashing over into another spear of uncontrolled climax that violently arched his back as it seared through him. For several moments, the conflicting sensations rocked his body over and over again, its systems firing automatically as the surroundings, and for a moment even consciousness, seemed to fade away.

Lorenzo finally recovered, pulling his head up slowly on muscles so pristinely relaxed that they would have been happier to simply slump back down against the console. Everything felt all right, everything felt perfect, even the deep ache that permeated his pelvis as his body managed to eke one last hesitant spurt from thoroughly drained balls to finish soiling his saturated underwear. It took several moments, trying to sit up and pull his mind out of a preternatural daze brought on by a half-dozen climaxes in as many minutes, for the memories of what had happened to flash through his mind. He was so relaxed, thought, that even the drumbeat of panic was heavily muted, and the move towards his holster was still lackadaisical, finally landing uselessly on empty leather. Next came a half-hearted stab at the emergency alarm button, which depressed satisfyingly beneath his hand, but neither glowed nor set of the expected shrieking klaxon.

Lorenzo stumbled to his feet, grimacing at his wavering gait, and the unmistakable smell of spunk emanating up from the saturated front of his pants. A new wave of embarrassment spread across his face as he contemplated his situation. How the hell was he supposed to explain this? He couldn't even imagine what his supervisor would think if he saw him like this, looking like he'd just come from the world's strangest porn-viewing session. He'd lose the TV for sure, and probably his job. But on the other hand, at least two very dangerous people now had initial access to a facility storing a lot of incredibly toxic chemicals. No matter what it meant for his career, he had to call it in.

The phone, of course, was dead too, which left Lorenzo Baltamo in the unenviable position of having to shamble his way down a good half-mile of concrete tunnel, his cock and balls squishing back and forth covered in uncomfortable, humiliating clamminess, as he tried desperately to raise an alarm that would sound far too late.

---

Transcript #1324497 - Special Task Force

(Note: transcript is partial, as earlier meeting recordings are no longer present in the archives)

(Note: transcript is public copy to comply with FOIA, and participant names and certain information points have been redacted by the releasing authority)

Col. T: So, it's done. Another what... thousand of them? Two? Released. Soon to be integrated into the cultural fabric of our nation. It's a chancy enough proposition, even here, in our so-called land of the free. People already have enough problems dealing with folks a few shades of skin different than them, and now they're gonna have a hard time finding the dividing line between pets and people.

Gen. A: So? Our country's weathered it before. And if it all goes to shit, we can always blame Dubrovnikov. Lord knows, I do. Every single fucking night.

Col. T: And you know, that's not even the half of it. I have the initial reports from half the facilities on my desk. They're not exactly family-friendly. Seems there are plenty of instincts that didn't exactly bleed out in their genetic recombinations.

Gen. A: Hardly a surprise. If they're basing their research on Dubrovnikov's work, it makes sense that there would be similar repercussions. Especially if they didn't bother to filter out the genetic code that he put there at our request. At least none of the reports I've seen so far have shown any tendencies towards mind-linking or abnormal secretions. I still can't believe he posted all the research documents. DHS pulled them from most reputable sites, but there are still copies floating around the darknets. In a way, I'm almost glad Dubrovnikov was ultimately a failure - even if it lets scientists create more bizarro animal people, there's nothing worth weaponizing. No super-soldiers here.

Col. T: If you say so. It's not like we could take any of that back even if we wanted to.

Gen. A: You have the latest FBI reports?

Col. T: Right here. Nothing we didn't already know. The scientists were working in a loose cooperative based on the leaked research. No direct ties to either Dubrovnikov or anyone within the military command structure.

Gen. A: And they're still clueless about any potential links to Basilisk, in any of the situations?

Col. T: There's no mention of it anywhere. I'm confident that the extent of that information leakage didn't penetrate beyond our own command structure. Dubrovnikov didn't even know the specific codename, after all, just the basic idea of what we were doing, and all he proved is that it didn't work at all. The only other people who know are the first batch of Canos and their partners, and they're all currently classified as government employees with nondisclosure provisions in their contracts. They're not gonna risk treason charges by revealing anything. We're covered, if that's what you're asking. Plus, the original batch are old news now, and the new ones don't have any links I can see that would cause us trouble.

Gen. A: Beyond what's already happened, at least. We already lost several overzealous personnel to the fallout from the Dubrovnikov situation, and we can't exactly afford to have anyone else fall on their swords at the moment. Still, it's going to get really interesting now that the civilian authorities have seen fit to unleash the current batch onto college populations across the country. It should be fascinating to see just exactly how those instincts are put into play, especially given the orgiastic tendencies of the original batch of Cano Sapiens under our supervision.

Col. T: As part of my meetings up on the Hill, I spoke with a deputy director from the CDC, who's on the Special Subjects Task Force - you know, the panel that ostensibly oversees operations of the CSSPP. Apparently, it is their belief that regimented residential segregation by sex should be an adequate safeguard against any unauthorized breeding behavior.

Gen. A: Yeah, that'll work. The first batch were all one sex, and that didn't exactly stop them from getting it on.

Col. T: Well, the new batch is supposed to be a bit more... controlled in that way. They also grew up seeing humans as the only authoritative figures in their life, and are supposed to be naturally deferential to them. So, they decided to assign each group at least one human roommate to keep them in line. Apparently they learned not to engage in any... inappropriate activity while their human minders were watching them, so having a human with them at all times when they're in private is supposed to keep a lid on things.

Gen. A: I'll believe it when I see it. In any case, we'll need to move forward with the-

Sec. V: General [redacted], there's a call on Line 1 for you.

Gen. A: Very well, patch it through. On speakerphone:

Caller 1: This is the [redacted] with an emergency report. At 1900 hours,

[The next section has been redacted by order of General Vasily I. Tonchak, as it contains information which might compromise national security.]

Gen. A: I don't fucking believe it.

Col. T: There's no way. They've got to be mistaken. There's no way anyone could have-

Gen. A: Dispatch a team immediately. I want that entire facility in lockdown. Every employee. No media, no nothing. This never happened. And [redacted]?

Col. T: Yes, General?

Gen. A: I want medical confirmation as soon as you can get it. I need to know that this wasn't something else. The Soviets had a lot of strange chemical agents back in the day. There might be another explanation, but if what happened really is what I think it is, we need to implement the emergency action plan before this gets out of control. [redacted]

Gen. A: And get me Dubrovnikov. NOW.