Codex: Becoming One...
By Kotep (http://kotep.xyz/)
A fox girl gets made over by a trio of trashy rats. Explicit.
“Hey, mine aren’t as fake as yours, barbie-tits.”
“That’s ‘cause I got all this muscle. Means it’s harder to have big fat shit on my body than it is for girls that just stand around all day.”
Maria scoffed and stuck out her tongue at the rat girl leaning on the other side of the counter.
“Besides, you’re just jealous you don’t get to come back from work all dirty and messy,” Rita added.
Maria couldn’t deny that was part of it. She loved when Rita came back with oil and grease staining her fur and smelling like the underside of a car. It was so fucking butch it drove her wild.
“Nuh-uh. You’re jealous because you don’t get to see hot chicks trying on slutty clothes all day,” Maria said.
“With roommates like you Toni I don’t need any more slutty shit,” Rita said.
Maria snickered at her friend across the counter.
Tiffany’s chest was burning and her temples ached from how she clenched her jaw. Prude? Was that what they were calling smart girls now? She wasn’t a prude. She just hadn’t needed to ever look particularly good before. But now that her beau had been taken away, she was no longer willing to take it lying down. She could look sexy when she needed to, and she was going to prove it.
She didn’t really know how to prove it, but she was ready to give it a shot, if it could mean getting Jason back. And so that was why the honors student, the wholesome blonde, the traditionally pretty vixen strode into ‘The B*tch Boutique’ (as written on the sign out front) with a resolute expression on her face.
There were two rat girls standing on either side of the counter–one in denim cutoffs and an undershirt tank top with short hair and a few stud-style piercings, while the other had longer, slightly curly black hair, big ring earrings, and was snugly squeezed into a miniskirt and black leather tank top. Oh, and yeah, they were both pretty damn stacked.
“–hold on. Hey girl, you need some help looking for something?” the long-haired one asked.
She stepped out from behind the counter and walked toward Tiffany. Just an inch or two above her cleavage was a gold necklace that said ‘Maria’ on it. The sharp tones of the girl’s Brooklyn accent nearly made Tiffany excuse herself and slip back out of the shop to reconsider.
But no, she’d come here for a reason, and she wasn’t going to shy away, even if the girl in front of her seemed like trash. Not that she was being classist or anything, of course not, but...really.
“Yeah, I do,” Tiffany said. “I’m trying to impress a guy I like. Some slut got into his pants and she thought just because I’m smart and independent that I can’t fight back. So I need to look good. I just...don’t have a lot of experience with that.”
Maria looked the fox up and down while she talked, and slowly grinned a large-toothed smile.
“Sounds like a plan. C’mon, let’s get started getting you a new look,” Maria said.
The other rat, the tough-looking one, gave Tiffany a sleazy smirk as she walked by. She wasn’t feeling one hundred percent sure about this any more. But she was going to do this, she was going to get Jason back.
“So we’ve got to start at the beginning, right? Let’s see...go and put this on,” Maria said.
In her hand was a slim red strap of fabric, a thong for Tiffany to wear. She took it without showing a hint of hesitation and slipped back into the changing room in the back to put it on. She could swear there was a musky smell in the shop and the slow, drumming bass beat playing on the speaker system was bothering her. Hold it together, you do this now and you won’t have to do it again.
With the thong on, she turned to the side, grazing her fingers lightly over the curves of her ass. She had never really taken a good look at it before. Her ass was kind of cute, and just a little bit naughty-looking with the thong wrapped around it.
She reached down to pull her skirt back on, but as she was bent over, she heard something. Her ears perked up to hear it, her claws just touching the hem of her skirt. If Maria was picking out new clothes, she wouldn’t want her to keep putting her old clothes on. Maria was a girl anyway, it wasn’t like the rat would be trying to get a peek at her.
With a little jiggle and bounce below her waist, Tiffany left the changing room, shoes and skirt left behind so that she wore nothing but her shirt, her bra, and the thong. Why did looking at Maria make her feel warm and mushy? Must be nervousness. That was definitely what nervousness felt like. No need to worry.
“There you go! See, good-lookin’, you just have to start with a sexy foundation,” Maria said.
Her hand smacked against one of Tiffany’s ass cheeks and the vixen let out a wet pant. Oh yeah, slut, do that again. Er. Tiffany would just ignore that thought.
“So, a new bra next?” Tiffany asked quickly.
“Nah, you look like the sort that could go for something strapless. No bra for you,” Maria said.
They made their way through the tightly spaced racks to get to where the tops were hung. Tiffany stood back, feeling the occasional breeze brushing against her bare legs and nearly-bare ass. It made her shiver. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good shiver or a bad one.
“Here we go! Might be a bit loose on you right now, but put it on and I can fix it up when we’re done,” Maria said.
The rat passed Tiffany a rather skimpy purple top that covered little more than a band of fur right around her chest–and in fact, it was laced up across the front a bit like a corset, just so that it could show off more cleavage.
She was going to excuse herself to go to the changing room. She really had planned to. But she just stood in front of Maria. Tiffany pulled off her shirt, then her bra, discarding them on the floor next to her. She pulled the tube top on. She tugged it up and down, trying to get it to settle snugly. Maria reached in to help, lacing the front up more tightly for now, then checking by squeezing and lifting the cups of the firm but smooth and soft material.
Maria’s hands felt warm and tight against Tiffany’s tits. Her breasts, she meant. Those hands stroked lightly, the claws dragged along behind her pink paw pads, and it was sending wet, gooey feelings of delight throughout her. Her tail was swaying back and forth in the air. Beneath it on the floor, red and black and white fur was starting to collect as her tail shed it all off.
Tiffany licked her lips lightly and flushed red beneath her fur as she realized she’d been leaning against Maria’s hands.
“I’m, um, sorry,” she said.
“Whatever babe, let’s get your legs decked out,” Maria said.
The rat girl sat her down on a bench, then began to gather leg accoutrements, while Tiffany’s eyes grazed over the upper reaches of Maria’s thighs and the soft shifting of her breasts within her top. Staring at her gave Tiffany a lightheaded feeling, as if she was looking down at a yawning pit she was tumbling into. Tiffany’s growing front teeth clicked together. She reached down to loosen the knot across her chest, giving her b-r-e-a-s-titties a bit of slack, since they were getting particularly tight and damn it, she did it again, didn’t she! Such a dumb slut! Arrghh.
“Alright, so we got fishnets,” Maria said, holding the items up in turn, “Some nice boots, and a miniskirt. Legs up!”
Tiffany was still committed to trying to out-seduce Jennifer and get Jason back. Despite the strange way she was feeling, she told herself to stick it through. She lifted up one leg, then the other, allowing Maria to tug up the fishnets and slide on the tall dark boots, then zip up the sides so they snugly hugged her legs. Then, she was pulled up onto her feet to get the tight glossy skirt up around her hips.
Maria gave Tiffany’s rounded and jiggly ass a tight squeeze. A warm sigh left Tiffany’s mouth. She was used to attention directed toward her sexy hindquarters but they were still so sensitive. Wait, no she wasn’t, and no they weren’t. That wasn’t supposed to be right, but it seemed like it was perfectly correct. This wasn’t good, something was going on. She had to ab fa menfh buh gumba.
“You like it? Sometimes girls don’t use perfume so much but nothing gets someone going harder than a big fucking can of pheromones,” Maria said.
A misty cloud drifted down onto Tiffany’s fur. She blinked her eyes quickly as they watered, but she was breathing it in deeply. Her nose was growing, shifting into a longer shape. Tiffany’s tail was completely naked now, and her pointed ears had been softening into rounded shapes.
She felt things that she knew weren’t real. Jason, pinning her down, crashing into her with animal fury, fucking her in just the way she deserved it until her makeup was running and her pussy ached and then he’d turn her over and fuck her in the ass and pull her tail and make her squeal and...
Wake up, damn it!
“Yeah, smells good,” Tiffany said, nearly out of breath.
She could see that the boxes of perfumes were all labeled things like ‘Fuck’ and ‘Rutting’ and ‘Cunt’, which brought a blush to her cheeks. Maria tossed the bottle of Rutting back into its box, and set it on the counter. Rita had been waiting there, and now in her hand she held a tattoo needle.
“Hey,” Rita said, as the two of them came back to the register. “How ‘bout some ink?”
“You’d look good with one! It’d toughen you up a bit, ha ha,” Maria said.
Tiffany didn’t want a tattoo. This was going to be just a temporary thing. Just clothes, and maybe a bit of makeup. Then she took a deep breath to steady herself. A breath practically sweet with the smell of Rutting. Visions and feelings flooded through her of how she might be treated if she got a tattoo, and she leaned over the counter, bent at her waist.
“Maybe...just one. Like a tramp stamp,” Tiffany said.
While the shape of her muzzle shifted subtly away from canine, Maria busied herself with putting together an assortment of makeup for Tiffany. Maria’s makeup and rambling also served to distract Tiffany from the jabbing needle down at the base of her back. Dark, almost purplish red lipstick was rolled across Tiffany’s lips, lips which felt tender and puffy, and which were learning to cope with her larger front teeth.
“You know, you’re not as independent as you think. This guy left you for another girl, yeah? And you’re so desperate for his cock you’re going to show off to try to get him back. Sounds to me like you’re whipped.”
“But I’m smart, I’m just doing it to, uhm–”
“You know a lot but that don’t make you smart. You had to fucking ask me how to look sexy. That’s not so smart if you can’t do it on your own.”
Maria brushed bright eye shadow along the brown fur that was what was becoming of Tiffany’s vibrant vulpine coat. Rita had lifted her needle from the girl’s back and was now starting to work around one of Tiffany’s arms.
Tiffany didn’t protest, because it was little more than a faint ache to her. She was more concerned with her mind. Her resolve and reasoning began to topple around her, leaving her confused, worried, and reaching out for anything that could help. The things that she knew were growing hazy, dissolving, no longer important and therefore starting to fade.
Rita traded the tattoo needle for a piercing gun, carefully punching holes in the thin membranes of Tiffany’s ears, then going so far as to pull out her tongue and give it a tidy piercing in the middle toward the front.
Earrings were slipped into the piercings in her ears and a stud put into her tongue. The two rat girls pulled back briefly, and as Tiffany rose up, she wanted to run. Her tits were overflowing her top even with the loosened knot. Her legs were thick and shapely and her wide hips flowed into a tight waist, beneath which was situated an ass that, while not having ‘juicy’ written across it, still immediately brought that word to mind.
“I think I should...nnnh,” Tiffany said.
Her thick thighs pressed together as Rita’s hungry gaze sent a shiver down her tail.
“I should really guhhh,” she tried again.
“Get your hair done? Just what I was thinking! Right through here,” Rita said.
Maria led them into a small room behind the cash register that had been separated by a curtain draped across the doorway. Rita gave Tiffany a push back into the salon chair that sat in the middle of the floor. Maria fastened a belt around her waist and wrists.
Maria rubbed her hands in an amber oil before starting to drag her fingers through Tiffany’s tightly trimmed head of blonde hair. Rita pressed a glass filled with a milky, slightly rubbery-smelling sort of drink to Tiffany’s lips and tilted it up to force her to drink. All of Tiffany’s squirming and whimpering amounted to nothing. She was trapped in the chair.
Tiffany’s top was slowly squeezing her ribs back against her lungs until Rita tugged the knot completely loose, letting the laces spring out to their proper tension. Tiffany’s cleavage swelled out into the loosened top, no longer squished so tightly, and promptly set to filling up the slack with warm, heavy mounds a bit too firm to be completely real.
“Calm down babe, we’re only helping out. Besides, if you’ve still got issues when we’re done...we’ll make sure you won’t have a problem with them,” Maria half-reassured, half-threatened her.
After rinsing and drying out Tiffany’s hair, the chair was spun around so that she could get a look at herself in the mirror. Staring back at her were a coat of brown fur, bare hands and feet, a naked tail, a rodent-like snout, and two thick front teeth...she was a rat. And not just that, she had big, heavy tits squeezed into a little top and sexy-ass curves squeezed into a hot little miniskirt and wild, thick, curly black hair down past her shoulders. She looked like a rat slut! And that was bad, she added. Very bad. She needed to stop this. It wasn’t good. This had to stop. She just had to keep telling herself that.
“Let me go you sick fucks! You’re both faggot dykes and I hope you eat shit! Let me out of this or I’ll gnaw your fucking tits off!”
Tiffany’s own rage scared her. The rat girls seemed more amused than anything else.
“Guess you still got issues. Too bad. But trust me, you’re gonna feel way better soon,” Maria said.
She reached over Tiffany’s body and slid the thong out from underneath her miniskirt, tugging it down until it was around her knees.
“Hit it!” Maria said, stepping back.
Tiffany didn’t even have time for another outburst. From within a cleft in the leather seat, a thick latex shaft sprung forward. She could barely move at all, but by the time it was plunging into her, the thought couldn’t even make it halfway through her mind to get away.
The whole chair shook and jiggled with the force of the motor that drove it. Tubes mounted on the back swayed in time with the rhythm. Two small needles jabbed into the base of Tiffany’s spine, and the tubes pumped their liquid into her.
Tiffany cried out. Her back was arched and her heels dug into the ground. Each thrust was hard enough to rock her body violently. Her vision was starting to blur into a colorful haze as the powerful drugs worked their way into her nervous system.
Her mind was being turned into a slurry of ideas, and then drained out of her with the incessant drilling accentuated by hands reaching in to tease and grope at her body. She couldn’t see Maria and Rita beside her. Everything was becoming flashes of shape and color and light, dissolved into their base components.
She wasn’t a slut. This wasn’t her. She didn’t really like it. She was smart and collected and she was an honors student and she went to class all the time and she wrote poetry...
The drugs that were turning her mind to mush were doing even more to her body. Her hips, barely fitting into her miniskirt, squeezed into the fishnets, making her walk an endless sexy strut putting her ass on display. Her breasts, swelling, the nipples bulging and tender, barely remaining decent inside the top, the outlines of the thick nubs clearly visible from the outside. Her lip, pouted, thick, glossy, begging for something to suck on.
She wasn’t a slut. She just liked having sex. Was that wrong? Having sex with people you just met? If dressing like you were ready to fuck at the drop of a hat was wrong it was political correctness gone mad. She was hot and eager and she loved tits and pussies and fucking all the different sorts of ways.
Her eyes were unfocused. Drool was nearly dripping off her deliciously plump lip. She was getting fucked and fucked and fucked over again. The mechanical nature just drove her own passion even harder. She was pushing back now. She was biting her lip and lifting her hips and moving with the quick rhythm of the chair. She was another part of the machine, the machine that could go on endlessly fucking and she wouldn’t care.
But it was going to stop. As Tiffany’s pace shuddered on with wild power, Rita slowly turned down the machine’s speed. Each thrust drew more out of her, reaching deep into her, hooking all those dreams and hopes and thoughts inside of her and tearing them out. All of those things like hoping to get a good degree and marrying Jason, the things that she didn’t need any more because she was becoming a brand new slut.
There were still huge gaps though, but who else would fill them in but Maria and Rita. They were so like her, after all. Her mind reached for anything to plaster over the gaps, and the two trashy rat girls were still fresh in her shattered thoughts. And then it was sealed. Muscles twisting, tail thrashing, head thrown back, the bright, wonderful, painful, white-hot, dripping wet orgasm washing over her, washing around her, and washing her away. And then, Tiffany was gone. The rat girl slumped into the chair, out cold.
“How the fuck does that work though?” Tina asked.
A pouty scowl was stretched across the rat girl’s face.
“You can graduate from more than one thing,” Rita explained. “Just ‘cause someone’s graduating doesn’t mean it’s from college.”
“And...college is still school even though it doesn’t have school in it like high school? Shit, no wonder it takes geniuses to go there.”
“You being a bimbo doesn’t make everyone else geniuses,” Rita said.
Tina snickered and Rita joined in, the two of them starting to grind their chests together, feeling the firm mounds squeezing against one another and enjoying the sensation until they were interrupted.
“What’s up?” Maria asked.
She carried a towel and ducked back out from behind the curtain. There’d been quite a lot to clean up, but she couldn’t argue with the results. No one could tell that Tina hadn’t always been a rat.
“Tina says she fucked some high school kid ‘cause she thought she was in college,” Rita said.
She winked at Maria, and Maria grinned.
“Hey Tina, weren’t you talking about some guy who started talking shit about you when he got some prissy bitch to fuck?” Maria asked.
Maria propped herself up against the counter, while the airheaded rat lifted a claw to her lip.
“Oh yeah, that girl!” Tina said.
“You know what’d really piss him off?”
“Ohh, god!”
Tina licked her lips as she sat up in the driver’s seat of the car. She tossed her hair and clicked her tongue stud against her teeth.
“Told you,” Tina said.
Jennifer felt squeezed inside her clothes after what was quickly becoming a blur in her mind. It had been hot and fast and dirty, but the stud and the spontaneity and the sheer wildness swept her away.
The cougar girl was pulled into another needy, desperate, hungry kiss. But soon Tina’s lips were pulling away, and the rat girl’s hands were coaxing Jennifer’s head down toward her bare chest, where her fangs nipped and her lips wrapped and sucked and her eyelids fluttered as Tina’s tail teased her.
If Jason wanted to fuck with her, she’d just have to fuck with his girlfriend. Just tearing her away from him would be great, but maybe Maria would be up for another makeover with Tina’s newest lover.