Plane Mascot TF
From: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/38750981/ , https://inkbunny.net/s/2281779 
Writer: affinity-machine
Published 18/10/2020

Additional pictures: 
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/38750773/, https://www.furaffinity.net/view/38750796/ 

You exit your taxi to arrive at the airport in the early morning, hours from departure, as usual to avoid long queue times at the lobby. You're supposed to head back to your country after a pleasant countryside getaway at the east, and it's a Friday, whatever that means to you, but better be safe to get a spot and wait than to be congested in a huge crowd. The airport is large, and the building’s design is modern. Strips of indirect lighting decorate the ceiling adorned with geometric patterns. Large, diagonal pillars withhold the grand scale of space of the lobby. The entire outer walls are glass held by support pillars. Definitely a high rating international airport. Yet there's not a lot of people to be seen here. You're practically the only person there, aside of a few employees and guards here and there, and a big walking mascot costume of the airport. It's an airplane, with small stubby legs, an enlarged head with a relaxed smile, and a set of eyes and a blush in place of the canopy, and wears a pilot's hat and a red scarf. You find it strange for a mascot costume to be wandering around before the sun even rises, let alone when there's no one around. You dismissed it and head to the registration booth to receive your ticket.

After you've done your papers and passport and expect to be finished, the receptionist expresses a brief wide eye, and asks you to wait for a moment as she goes behind doors. As you waited, you noticed that the same mascot from earlier is standing right behind you. Like most people, you find it creepy. You give whoever is in the costume a nervous smile and a wave of the hand. As you look closely at it, you thought the costume would be more fluffier, like the ones you usually saw in your getaway. Curious, and reluctantly, you stroked it's upper half of the suit. The surface felt smooth.

"Congratulations! You're our five-millionth passenger to fly in our airport!" A representative came out from the back to greet you with a tone that staggers you. 
"As our thanks, we'd like to offer you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to become our luckiest passenger to depart in our innovative Express Class flight programme, as your reward for being loyal!". She then popped a party popper, confetti rains before you could think of the implications that she just presented you with. 
"A staff will escort you by cart to prepare you for the programme and brief you with the details. Do have a nice time flying.", the receptionist followed with a meager voice. She looks used to this.

Technically not receiving a standard ticket, and probably on a different airline due to this special flight plan, you broad the cart as to follow along with whatever is going on. You imagined it'll be a flight on a private jet with all the expenses covered, which you wouldn't pass up on. The representative climbs on. And the same mascot is sitting on the carriage behind you, easily taking up all four seats of it. At least it clicked on you that the mascot was present as they were expecting the five-millionth guest and is a part of the celebration, which brings some ease into your mind.

"What's the express class all about compared to the rest?", you asked.
"It's a brand new flight class just newly introduced, and once you're signed up for it, all flights personally to you will be free of charge for lifetime! You'll be provided with the latest technology in aviation, exclusive to our airlines, and all your flights are solely catered to you! This is an offer that only a select few in the world even knows about."
You heard it. Free of charge, definitely a private jet, and lasts forever. Nothing sucks more than having to deal with economic class flights. To you, it's like the gods of airlines have given you a blessing. Though, you haven't figured out which airlines this is supposed to be. And thoughts stir as to why this is kept secret when they could've gotten more customers from the selling point.

You arrive at what seems to be near the security checkpoint. Guess they've also prepared a jet ahead of time, too. You're well over excited to be able to get home and think of the next place you'd visit.

"Alright, we're here!", as she steps off and lends your hand, in which you accept. 
"Firstly, you'll have to change in the changing room. Afterwards, our staff will give you all the necessary details of your benefits and conditions and you may be free to ask any questions you'd like! Sounds good?". She gleefully faces you.

You thought to yourself. "Changing room? Why would I need to change? And change to what?". Before you could begin to ask, she interrupts you.

"Alright! Sounds like you've already thought of what to ask! Make sure to keep those in mind!". You're escorted through behind doors of the public eye as employees bombard you with complimentary praises and questions.

"I'm sorry, but what do i have to change-"
"Oh don't worry, you don't have to change your flight plans and reservations. We've got that covered!"

Sounds of carpet steps continue down the hallway along with other unrelated questions about you that you don't have time to listen to.

"It's just... Why do i have to-"
"Change? Oh don't you worry. You'll have everything that you need to do so!"
You also start to notice sounds of dampened thumping behind you. You're too busy paying attention to what's ahead of you to look at what's behind you. Whatever it is, it's making quite a stomp with each step.

You are welcomed past a door to an empty room after a forced jog with the staff. They let you enter first, and then that big plane mascot last. One of them mentions; "This is the room where you'll have to get changed. Make sure to leave any metal possessions on the tray on the table. It's very important, alright?" You nod. The staff then leaves the room for you.

You've dealt with customs before, so, you're well prepared to wear only sleeved shirts and track pants. You find that no one would really mind for you to look like you're ready to hit the bed just to make customs less complicated. You look around the room as you lay your wallet and possessions. The room must be part of the engineering section as the floor is glossed concrete, water pipes run the ceiling, and wiring panels adorn the white brick wall. Perhaps they're leading you to a hangar where your presumed private jet is waiting for you.

Now you wait. Wait to think of what exactly you're changing to. You don't see any set of clothing in the room and there are no wardrobes. So, you're given some time to think of what just happened.

Firstly, you've won some sort of a prize, that you never knew about, at four in the morning. No one else is to be seen, and you're not quite sure what to expect. You start to think this is an elaborate TV show prank with how odd the staff has been behaving and how rushed this all seems to be - free flights for life and no one knows about it. Secondly, you're now in the back rooms rather than through customs, and they want you to change. Thirdly, they mentioned a briefing, too. And worse of all, the same mascot is in the same room as you. You haven't been noticing it for a while now. The mascot doesn't seem to speak nor make any gestures. It's been standing and looking at you for as long as you can tell.

You chuckle, "You're not the one who's going to give me the clothes for me to change to, are you?"
It smiled. You smiled back in response. Hah. You don't usually find yourself to be funny. It's pretty hilarious when you joke about yourself, but to think you could make even a mascot smile?

Wait.
It just smiled.
Costumes don't do that.

Hmm. Yep.

You thought the cute looking mascots you've seen in uptown are kinda creepy. This is beyond creepy.

You thought of nothing else and jolted for the door you came in, finding it locked. Bullets of sweat washes over you, trapped with a creepy living airplane mascot. It's like from one of your PG-13 horror movies. Legends would say a man who won a private jet for life was eaten by the plane itself. Ironic. Earlier, you were thinking about places to be. And it couldn't have been more appropriate to wish that you could be anywhere else right now.

You banged the door and screamed for help to nothing. No one answered. You turned to see the big walking airplane mascot steadily approaching you. And a fire alarm switch just across it.
You circled the creature and went for it.
Just for it to do nothing.

A pulling force surges through you. You were grabbed by the arm and were lifted upwards with its wings. You are greeted up close to the thing's big, nosy face. You feel it's breathing. Smells like engine oil and air conditioning, and a hint of a sweet aroma to it. You panic and trash about from it's grasp to no avail. It then sits and clutches you to it's airplane belly to constrain you as it begins to slowly undress you, as if murderous intent, or simply just slow because you're still trashing about. First the shirt, exposing your upper half. Then your track pants come off.

It takes a good close look at you, still in your underwear, being squeezed to its belly. It feels soft, allowing you to still breathe. You shiver from the temperature of the room, but now you begin to feel warm. Your struggle is making you rub its belly quite a lot, indirectly fondling your crotch to it isn't helping you rebel feeling acquiescent to it. You never felt something so soft and smooth. You can't give this up to an economic class seat, wouldn't you?

You start to feel hazy and your movements start to become sluggish. It's face is inches away from your face. Something about this creature of an aviation vehicle smells so sweet, akin to lavender, it's soothing and lulling you down. Surely, no other sweet aromas like those bus mints can compare to this. You're now left with little struggle. It just wants to cuddle with you from the looks of it. You lay your head to the soft, memory-foam like belly and knead and fondle with it. You can hear the soft rumbling akin to placing your hand up to your ears. It's definitely not hollow. You don't hear any heartbeats, but you don't seem to need it. It reminds you of being held by your mother figure.

Your acts of embracing its belly is making you heated. You start to get hard. "Mmnnh..". You're enjoying this. You rub yourself with it more and are leaking pre when it lifts you up by the armpits and you let an audible oh.

You, still in your underwear wet with pre, look at it's silly face, still has that relaxed expression as always, with a woozy face of yours drooling from the heat. It then opens up its mouth and lets an audible ah, and it clicks on you. It's about to eat you.

You protest again but you've been so relaxed that you don't struggle as much anymore. It brings you closer to its mouth, your head now inside of it and drool falls from the top of the mouth and lands on your head, you see a small crevice on the back end of the mouth. You grip it's lips trying hard to not fall in, but the smell emanating from its breath is making you start to relax your muscles again. You give in and fall in its mouth, the rest of your body follows, and it closes.

It's damp here. The surface of the mouth feels smooth, with pores on them and sometimes wet. It's cramped, your head already touches the ceiling. Your upper half leans on it's thick tongue, the tip of it fondles the bulge on your underwear and you let a muffled moan. The tongue lolls you around and you can feel saliva enveloping you bit by bit as it presses you to various surfaces of the mouth, seeping into various gaps such as your thighs. You’re exhausted from all the molestation the tongue has done to your body, now coated with lubrication. You're then pushed into the crevice at the back of the mouth. The surrounding saliva well lubricates your body, and you slowly, with no resistance, ease yourself into the crevice head first and held your breath as your head gets engulfed down, then your upper half, then your arms, and finally your legs follow suit, the crevice morphing back behind you, and the living airplane mascot gulps.

You feel tightness encompassing your whole body. The lubrication helps you squirm and writhe as little by little you're making your way down the esophagus. You let go of your breath and take the air in. The scent of the fragrance is getting stronger and you're close to feeling overwhelmed by it. You barely want to move, other than wriggling your cock as the only sensation that seems to matter here. You can't quite see anything but brief glances of velvet red as you barely have room to open your eyes as your face continually rubs the surface of the throat.

You feel an opening as your head juts out of a ceiling of a chamber inside the mascot. You think it's the stomach, but acids and other liquids are absent. The rest of your body falls onto the padded flooring, and you adjust yourself in a comfortable upright position. It’s warm here, only makes you just on the verge of sweating. Still covered in saliva, including your now wet underwear, you rub some of it off your face and get yourself a nice deep breath. Scent of engine oil is present, but the sweet aroma is now deep in your system. Everything feels nice now. You can't quite make of anything else, but you're glad you're here now.

Several minutes have passed, but you swore it felt longer. But your perception of time clocks back in now that you started to feel funny on the inside. Maybe you're just heated? The bulge in your underwear is still curled firm. You're feeling like wanking it, so you’re about to reach your hand to strip it, when you notice there's a bit more area that you can feel on your arm and your chest than usual as you're bending it. You take a look at your shoulders, and you feel shock running down your skin as you see that your upper arm abnormally connects more to the sides of your chest, forming a web of sorts that spreads all the way to your hands. You look more of your body, and somehow, you knew that you grew pale white and your skin stops feeling familiar, and you start to feel parts of your body that you never felt before.

Panic sets in again as you feel alienation to your own physiology as you come to the revelation that your body is undergoing change. The initial process is uncomfortable. You feel like your whole body is being stretched apart, some parts grow and some parts shrinking. Your hands grow to lose joints in the fingers and you can't discern where your hand connects to the wrist and where your elbow is located. The webbing on your arm widens more to your chest and thickens to a uniform width to your arm, and a visible grey discoloration is seen running through your thumbs and up the arm. Your foot smoothens out to a single stub, you can feel that your legs are shorter, and you swore your heels have something running on them. You grow a puffy, short tail with fins on them just at the rear of your back, like that of the airplane mascot that just ate you. The tail merges with your crotch and becomes a part of your overall upper body, serpentine-like, leaving your legs on the sides of it. Much of your skin is now pale white and feels smooth, save for your front half all the way to the base of your newly made tail, and the top part of your head down to the neck, which are now bluer in color. You stroke your head to feel that you grew a snout on where your nose is. Your hair sheds and falls, and your upper face morphs a canopy that covers your eyes, which are now flat and screen-like across the canopy. Your vision remains the same, however, and tapping the canopy makes a glass sound and prevents your eyes from being poked. Your sleek yet chubby body shrinks, save for your head, to the point where your body proportion is now 3-4 heads tall. The part where your head connects to your body is now uniformly flush, like that of a penguin, while you still maintain your ability to rotate your now plane-like head.

Much of these changes are slow, most of them are still developing, especially from your neck down. What you've come to discover is that your body hasn't quite yet set in stone, and that much of your still-transforming body is sensitive to touch. Very sensitive. You shuffle around in the cavity, still covered in lubrication from the mascot's saliva, and rub various plane-like parts yourself with your wing-like hands and on the surface of the cavity. Your chest, thighs, foot, neck region, pelvic, you feel as if they're being touched from the inside. At times, the lubrication feels faded, so you start to groom yourself with your tongue, which you've just noticed has a metallic taste by itself. You lick your hands and arms extensively and cover yourself with your own saliva by wiping yourself with your wet plane arms and hands. You then notice that you're able to bend your body pretty far, and you can groom as far back as your legs, licking them over and over and embracing the metallic taste.

It's been 5 minutes since you first started to notice the changes in your body. You wriggle and smother yourself in more of the bodily fluids now, mixed with both your saliva and the mascot's, feeling joyous and blissful, coupled with the aroma that's been making you idyllic the entire time. You were interrupted by something that has grown hard in your pelvic region. As you look down, your underwear, leaking pre, has pitched a very solid tent. The shape of the cock seems changed, too, looking more pointy and tapered, judging by how the underwear looks like. The shaft of your cock is so stiff, the underwear is stretched so far, close to the point of tearing, pitching about 7 inches by this point, from how you see it. It feels tighter with each second passing, and it doesn't seem to want to bend anywhere but forwards. You try to relieve it from your cotton prison, but your underwear can't stretch further to open up fully, and worse, your cock is just as sensitive as your body. Every attempt at manipulating your cock storms your constitution with surges of halcyonic pleasure, and making your underwear feeling tighter.

You can't handle how tight your pelvic has been feeling now. Your shaft is under such immense stress, you clench your hands and hump the air, screaming and begging for quarter. The whole cavity shakes as you do so in your struggle. You've kept this up for what feels like minutes, asking for respite, before you can feel your shaft bent only just and at the peak of your heave, finally bursted through your underwear, tearing it apart and releasing copious amounts of cum on yourself. You cry tears and shudder relief in response and settle yourself down with a smile on your face.

After catching breath and getting grips of yourself, you glanced to observe the damage done. Your underwear has a tear on the center, with your cock poking out of it. Your cock, wouldn't you believe it, is turned into what looks to be a tapered probe. Small grooves perpendicularly line the metal shaft to allow bending, which didn't play earlier. Surrounding the cock is a pair of panels, which closes your cock shut from plain view. Your sacks seem to be absent, too. In fact, most of the changes are just about complete. You're not quite as sensitive, and you can tell your skin feels a bit stiffer. You're now a miniature version of the big white commercial plane mascot-creature thing, probably ⅔ shorter than your original height, with notable cosmetic differences, such as a blue tone coloring your top half of your cockpit-head and your chest down to the base of your tail. Your eyes are inside of a canopy, which have dark backlight and your eyes lit white, as if they were a screen.

The probe is leaking cum, almost metallic in appearance, which you cleaned with your fingers and licked them off your hands. Tastes like metal, which, by the way, you've started to grow a liking to.

After cleaning yourself off from the mess you made like that of a feline, you start to grow curious about what happened to your anus, as a tail was in place of your rear crotch. You undress your now wet shredded underwear to find a small grey port under your stubby tail. It's your anus, alright. And touching it confirms that.

With all of this happening to you, you realize that nothing has happened outside of the cavity of the mascot you’re in. It feels like you’ve been in there for an hour and you haven’t heard a thing. You started to grow bored waiting, resting on the soft, half-wet padded cavity you’re in, so you’ve decided to play with your new body for one more time. You grab your shred underwear and placed it on your face, smelling the musk of the cum, saliva, and sweat. You become heated again and start to ventilate, taking the sweet aroma in to help you get going. You fondle with your probe-cock and port-ass with each hand, and begin masturbating. After some time, you edge yourself to leak pre, and you’re reminded that your body is somewhat flexible, so you reach your mouth to your cock, and with some repositioning and gripping the rudder of your tail, you manage to slip your cock halfway into your mouth. You wait to take some breaths, and begin sucking on it. The metallic taste intensifies, which is like sugar to you. You loll and wrap your tongue on your half inserted tapered metal cock, fondling and molesting it with your mouth. You let go of it to catch a breath, your cock covered in your bodily saliva. You suckle on the fingers of one of your hands to salivate it, position yourself again for another round of self-sucking, and this time you finger yourself on the ass. You spasm and let go muffled moans all the while, the short breathing increases your heat and your ass becomes easier to insert by time. You’re about halfway close, you take a deep breath, and exhale as you thrust your head down the cock, all the way to its base, and the cock reaches the back of your throat, and you gag and recoil back in surprise, shuddering and coughing some fits. After you’re done, you try again, slower this time. You suck on your own cock, finger your ass, and sway yourself back and forth little by little doing so, increasing gradually, thrusting your cock down your mouth, each thrust going deeper than the last, until it reach your throat fully.

The pleasure is overwhelming. You’re starting to lose it and pre floods the insides of your mouth but you’re not there just yet. You jab your finger in your ass, sending waves of pleasure down your skin. Your cock sucking becomes faster and meaner and your fingering fondles with your rectum, and finally you let go a torrent of metallic cum inside your mouth, which you hold until you couldn’t, cum leaking and splurting out of your mouth. Your body withdraws, your hands and legs convulsing in orgasmic pulses, you shed tears as you muscle your cock with cum on your chest, and you finally are able swallow the whole load of your own seed to yourself as your cock throbs one last time, shooting a long one up to your face. You once again cry relief and breathe in exhaustion, laying down on the soft padded surface of the chamber you’ve done your naughty conducts in. In your effort to make the most of it, you smother the mess you’ve made on yourself on your body, slinking around and wriggling until you’re covered wet by your cum. 

You’re exhausted, just on the edge of passing out, when you hear a clack and a door opening, followed by footsteps. 

“This one caused quite a ruckus, I can hear him all the way from behind the door! I hope he doesn’t damage the inside of this one, Chief would yell at us otherwise.”, an unfamiliar male voice is heard.

“Let’s relocate him to ‘quarters and get him out so he can rest easier. Who’s up for the cleaning shift?”, A female, this time.

“It’s you, Maddie.”

“Aw, geez. Fine, then. But you better be next.”

You feel movement from the plane mascot you’re in as it makes its way. The plane mascot is also considerate enough to bring your luggage as you're carried, as you have noticed.

To be continued?