Stretched Thin
Alba is still dealing with the aftereffects of a night at the bar with friends, nearly a week after the fact. Unbeknownst to anyone else, the panther came home from the bar with a completely new – and unruly – dick against his will.
The way his consent was ignored hurts, but the constant pervasive arousal has him exploring his new anatomy despite his misgivings. As much as the panther hates to admit it, a reptilian genital slit does have a certain appeal to it.
The following story contains nonconsensual body modification, nonconsensual sex, cock transformation, an unwilling host, masturbation, slit fucking, and an examination of the long-term effects of a transformation. This work is sexually explicit, and not intended for an audience under the age of 18. Please engage with it responsibly.
Alba shifted uneasily, the fur on his thighs ruffling with his movement. It was just… so. So strange. To be missing the weight he’d had for his entire life. He tried to tear his attention away from the change, trying to force his mind back to the computer screen in front of him.
It only worked for a brief moment. The change between his legs was impossible to avoid noticing. It was too new, to different to ignore. Alba swallowed, throat bobbing beneath his smooth black fur.
Finally, he gave up. Standing from his chair, he slipped away from his desk, trying to not overanalyze his movements. Were his strides always this long? Did he always hold his tail like that? Had walking always felt like this, and he’d never noticed?
Immensely grateful to be working from home, he slips into his small apartment’s bathroom. He was the only one there, but the webcams he had to keep set up for meetings felt like they were always staring at him, always watching. He shuddered at the idea of someone seeing him like this.
Taking a deep breath, he undid the buckle of his belt, sliding his slacks down his legs. Even if no one could see, wearing his nice pants to work always left him feeling more confident. They were starting to fit a bit tighter around the waist, years of office work taking its toll on his body, but he could hold off on a replacement a bit longer.
What drew the panther’s attention was the empty space usually filled by his cock and balls, leaving the crotch of both his slacks and briefs fitting oddly around his form. He hesitated, claws hooked under the waistband of the stretchy briefs, the front pocket laying oddly loose around him.
Seeing what had happened to him was nearly morbidly fascinating – being able to run a claw tip over changed flesh left him simultaneously curious and repulsed.
But it was still a distraction. He still had a deliverable to finish today, regardless of strange new sensations or the ache between his legs. Letting his briefs pool around his ankles atop his slacks, he forced himself to look.
The panther was tall, midnight black fur just beginning to show strands of gray, cloaking a form that had grown large and soft. He was tall and wide, even if not visibly muscular, with a long tail flicking behind him.
And, between his soft thighs, that dark fur suddenly transitioned into cream-colored scales, the supple texture of a snake’s underbelly started where his thick pubic fur once sat, stretching from his pubic bone all the way between his ample asscheeks and to the base of his tail.
The dramatic shift in color and texture was eye-catching, making it completely impossible not to stare at it.
And Alba did. Even now, after multiple days, he couldn’t help it. It was so foreign to him, and he twisted to look at where the scales crept up the base of his tail, fingers tracing them. They didn’t extend far, but if the fabric of his clothing shifted in an inopportune way, someone might catch sight of them.
He shuddered, tracing a gentle claw alongside his front. For as much as he feared someone learning of his condition, of what had happened to him – had been done to him – the idea was nearly just as tantalizing.
It was enough to truly spark arousal, and beneath his fingers, the scales began to part. A thin tip emerged, glistening in the light with the dampness of the slit it had been contained within. Alba teased it, running a careful finger around the tip and couldn’t stop himself from bucking up into his own hand, grinding it down against him a mere moment later, a moan catching in his throat and bouncing off the bathroom tile.
The cock was so sensitive.
More of it slid into the open air, the thin layer of moisture forcing Alba to shiver as the cold greeted it. He ran featherlight fingers down the length, not yet grasping it, testing, feeling. Just mere days ago, he had still possessed the dick and balls he’d been born with. The shape of this new one was still unfamiliar, the way his fingers could glide across it without catching on the soft barbs that used to cover his length feeling strange.
As his questing fingers reached where tapered cock met slit, he gently stretched himself open just beneath, trying to relax still unfamiliar muscles to permit himself entry. The scales around his new genital slit were stretched tight, not intended to accommodate more at a single time than the dick that had already slid loose. The stretch was divine, a sweet burn as slick escaped the hole and began to coat his hand.
It was, quite possibly, the most fascinating part of the whole thing. Where his sack used to lay, heavy and furred against his thigh, was now only a long, narrow slit. He could only assume that his testicles themselves now resided somewhere in his body, hidden away as like the reptile whose dick he now sported.
Finally feeling his hole begin to grow more pliable as he relaxed into the stretch, Alba nudged a second fingertip inside. He spasmed around it, chest heaving as he balanced himself with a hand on the cold tile of the counter.
He paused, panting as he let himself feel and flex around the intrusions. Nearly every time this new cock grew too distracting, it had reduced him to this. Knuckle deep inside his slit, trying to open himself up, enthralled by the sensation of being penetrated where his mind still expected his sack to sit.
Seemingly in protest of the break, his cock squirmed. The ignored length pressed itself against his hand and wrist, trying to force its slender tip into the fingers curled into his palm.
Alba swallowed.
There was the other thing that had been impossible to ignore.
His pleasure wasn’t just his anymore.
The slender cock writhed against him again, the mind within it protesting the way Alba had frozen. Slowly, the panther resumed his motions, leaning his forehead against the cold tile of the counter, doing his best to ignore the unnatural state of his dick, even as he relished in it.
Even if the man that had forcibly installed himself as a new fixture of Alba’s body wanted warm flesh wrapped around his new form, that didn’t mean that Alba had to.
In fact, in this moment, as Alba stretched his hole open, scissoring his fingers as he keened into the cabinets, the panther was feeling inclined to do anything other than give his cock what it wanted. His hips jerked up into the movement of his hand, forcing his fingers deeper into sensitive flesh, and he did his best to turn it into a sensuous grind.
This wasn’t what he wanted, but he knew how to make the best of things.
Curling his fingers, he pushed deeper to find the spot next to the base of his length that sent sparks up his spine. The patch of skin was a slightly different texture than the rest of the slit, a small, raised bump, as responsive as his cockflesh.
Drawing his lower lip into his mouth to try and muffle the whine that was escaping him, Alba pinched the bit of flesh, rolling it between his fingers. He could only imagine this was where a second cock was meant to sit, if he was arranged like a true snake. And here it was, buried deep within him, rife with nerves.
The sensations were quickly becoming too much. His dick was curling itself around his wrist as he humped his own hand, fingers buried within his slit and crooked to hit the sensitive spot next to his base. Alba’s breaths were coming in short, shallow pants as he chased his pleasure, the panther biting off his moans even as he began to crest.
Muscles deep within him began to clench, a feeling that used to accompany his balls drawing up tight, close to his body. Alba shuddered, using the tip of a claw to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden within him.
If this lasted – if this stuck long enough for Alba to bring himself to show someone how his body had been changed – he’d love to get fucked like this. He wants to be stretched open so badly, enough that the burn was just barely sweet.
The panther whines, fucking his fingers deeper inside him as he imagined what it’d feel like to have another man rutting against his cock, both of them trapped within his slit.
It’s that thought that finally triggers his release, the rush of orgasm finally forcing his jaws open to allow a full-throated groan. His cock pulses, spilling seed across the back of his hand, wriggling unnaturally as it smears the cum into his dark fur.
Alba milks himself through it, still massaging his inner walls as his muscles clench rhythmically. He only withdraws his fingers, wrist aching, once the motions start to ache with oversensitivity.
He presses his forehead harder into the tile of the counter, the surface having long lost its chill, hands hanging limp by his sides as the panther’s sides heave. Alba only had a few more moments to catch his breath, and he fought to not relax fully into the afterglow.
The panther only gives himself a few more moments before he stands, turning the tap on and plunging his hands into the cool water. He scrubs at his fur, working water through the thick hair, before reaching for the soap. Alba lathers the area, using the sweetly scented soap to start washing his own fluids from it.
By the time his hands are semen and slick-free and he’s drying them with a plush hand towel, his soft cock is still laying wetly against his thighs.
Alba hesitates, unwilling to touch himself now that the moment has passed. The dick squirms weakly against him, smearing slick and the remnants of cum into his soft thighs.
The panther shudders, equally aroused and disgusted. He didn’t ask for this – never wanted anything like this. He didn’t even know anything about how this sort of thing works, having only been vaguely aware that some hardcore fetishists took part in this form of play.
But, as he bends to pull the fabric of his briefs over his new package, he knows enough to not tell anyone. They hide the slick cock from view, even as they stick to the moist flesh uncomfortably.
The laws – few as they were – are clear about scenarios like these. They had been written to protect those perceived as the most vulnerable, the ones sacrificing their personhood and agency.
And, by being forced to play host to someone’s fantasy, that didn’t include Alba.
He doesn’t think he can stand being seen as the aggressor, not even if someone could help him. Nausea twists within his gut as the panther re-buckles his belt, taking a moment to smooth out his shirt before finally forcing himself from the refuge of the bathroom.
The tacky skin of the cock in his pants shifts uncomfortably against the fabric of his clothing with every step, and Alba finds himself acutely aware of the patch of scales at the base of his tail. They catch oddly as they rub against the tail hole of his pants, distinct from the thick fur that once dwelled there.
Alba resettles at his desk, desperately trying to focus on his work, even as someone else’s arousal burns low and constant within him. It’s an unwelcome distraction – and would have been, even if his body was still his own – and the disregard to his livelihood burns.
He draws in a deep breath, holding it before blowing it slowly out of his nose.
He didn’t have the time to linger over the breach of personal autonomy. There was a meeting with the customers coming up soon, and Alba couldn’t afford to drop the ball on the presentation.
He just had to keep taking it, one day at a time.
He had been just a little tipsy. Alba was being careful with how much alcohol he imbibed – he wasn’t 25 anymore, and the panther had no interest in nursing any sort of hangover.
It was a Saturday, and the bar was crowded. Alba lingered around friendly faces, people he had seen around enough to recognize, if not name. The panther had been wearing a pair of tight leather pants, the soft skin wrapped tightly around his thighs and highlighting both his bulk and his package.
He was leaning against a friend, arm thrown over the shoulders of a tiger he’d slept with off and on for years. The other feline had a finger hooked through the straps of the harness Alba wore, tugging the panther closer to speak directly into his ear.
The snake – a friend of a friend of a friend, nice enough, but Alba had never managed to catch his name – lingered at a nearby table, eyes constantly flitting over to trace Alba’s outline.
It was hard to not be flattered, even as the panther was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to give the reptile what he was looking for. Alba was much more interested in getting bent over by a big, handsome man than he was in taking a college kid in as some sort of pet.
Alba’s disinterest didn’t seem to ever seem to affect the snake, though. He’d been hovering around the panther for months now, seemingly too shy to make his move.
Even as he pretended he didn’t see the way the kid watched him, Alba knew all too well what the snake wanted from him. He’d have to be blind not to – let alone deaf, with the way the tiger had been teasing him about the cute, puppy crush the snake had been harboring.
It was less cute, in retrospect.
The snake had finally approached, and Alba disentangled himself from the tiger, stepping away from the tables his group had claimed. He’d take the kid to the side, let him down easy, maybe try to point him in the direction of a dom.
Alba had been offered shy, stuttering apologies for all the ogling, and another beer. He’d taken it, with an easy smile, already going through the motions of ruffling the kid’s hair before he realized the reptile didn’t exactly have any.
He thought they had parted on good terms. That everything had been handled.
A half hour later, Alba had excused himself to the restroom, simultaneously feeling like he was about to sweat out of his fur and chilled to the bone. He was faint, shaky. Uncoordinated.
The kid had slipped in after him, concern writ across his face as he held a scaled palm to Alba’s forehead, murmuring something the panther couldn’t catch beneath his breath.
He staggered under Alba’s bulk as the panther slumped against him, before gently lowering the older man to the floor.
Started to slide Alba’s belt free, as he had stared up at the college kid with dull, confused eyes.
Fucked himself on Alba’s nearly-limp dick, until the change started.
Had begged to be used until the transformation had stolen his speech.
Alba had nearly vomited in the final stages, bile burning its way up his throat as he fought to choke it back. The only thing that would make the night even worse would be ending up covered in his own puke.
If only he'd nipped this in the bud sooner – if only he'd been smarter, had declined the drink, had noticed the signs before it was too late.
If only, if only, if only.
Alba’s coherency returned sometime later, when the tiger shouldered the door open and hauled him off the floor and out of the bar.
He hadn’t noticed.
Alba’s pants were tight around his thighs, belt loose and fly undone, and the tiger hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t spilling out of them the way he should be. The relief and absurdity had caused delirious laughter to bubble up from Alba’s throat.
It hurt, that no one knew what happened to him even as Alba had been so relieved by the fact he cried. That he could keep this one, awful secret until whatever the snake had given him wore off, when Alba could explain to the kid that he was not at all what the snake was looking for in a host, and they could go their separate ways.
A clean break, so that Alba could pretend that this had never happened.
As the panther wakes up on a Sunday, a week after someone had forced their way into his body, nothing had changed. His groin is still lined with pale scales, soft and supple against his fingertips. The constant, low-level arousal from the snake that had become his cock still soaks through his very being, stealing his focus.
Alba sinks his fangs into his lip, fighting the urge to cry or scream or vomit. It had been a week, where he'd been a slave to someone else's desires with a borrowed libido higher than his had been as a teenager.
Even as a drew in a deep breath, trying to manage his emotions, he was letting a hand creep beneath his blanket and between his thighs. Regardless of what he wanted, Alba wouldn't be getting anything done without a modicum of release. As his claws ghosted into his briefs and over the near invisible seam, the cock within began to eagerly emerge.
It twists itself into his hand once more, seeking friction as it always did.
Alba does his best to ignore it, as he always did, pulling his hand away from the dick to trace the bottom of his slit's opening. One finger presses in, the only lubricant the natural slick of his slit, the burn dully aching as he begins to stretch himself open once again.
It was, perhaps, a futile form of resistance, but it was one of the only ones left to him.
His breath hitches as he curls his finger just so, hips jerking as Alba grinds against his own hand. His cock twines itself around his wrist as he slips a second finger into his slit, stretching his opening as he presses deeper.
Slick is smearing itself across his hand, Alba's black fur clumping as he toys with the bundle of nerves next to the base of his dick. He bites back a moan, fangs catching on his lip as his eyes slide shut.
Alba can feel himself nearly dripping around the intrusion of his hand as he works himself up, his dick beginning to weep pre as he spears himself open.
He swallows thickly, letting himself imagine just how much better a dick would feel than his hand. His hips jerk forwards, the palm of his hand grinding against his own cock as his claws catch on the bundle of nerves hidden within his slit.
A partner would rut against him, into him, stretching his already occupied slit even further. The stretch would be a pleasurable burn, a pressure deep within him in a way he'd never felt before.
As Alba works a third finger in, wrist beginning to ache from how he presses into himself, he can almost feel the way another body would move above his, his tapered cock sandwiched between their stomaches as they thrust up into him.
He moans openly, wanton, as his muscle clench around his fingers, cock jerking as his palm presses it against his stomach. It's the most friction he's felt against his new dick, and the flesh of it is so sensitive that the relief of finally touching it almost hurts.
It's only another couple of moments before his seed is spilling across his fur, pearly white cum across the black of his stomach and hand. He milks himself through it, fingers still stretching his slit wide as his claws catch on the delicate skin, dancing on the line of pleasure-pain.
When his orgasm ends, Alba carefully extracts his hand from his slit, fur matted with cum and slick. The panther lets it thud against his sheets, as he stares blankly at the ceiling.
Hopefully, it wouldn't be too much longer before the cocking drugs wore off. His sex drive was out of control, and Alba didn't know how much longer he could keep getting off multiple times a day.
He swallows his nerves, and goes to roll out of bed.
This ordeal would be over soon. It had to be.