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There was a sharp prod in his back to get him moving forward, but it wasn’t really much compared to the sting of getting himself caught – and with as little dignity as had been involved.\n\n\tThe court room itself was mostly empty, just a few directly involved parties – guards, the thick tusked walrus in the robe ready to pass judgment on him, and in the seats were Carmelita, and the bunny who had ruined his escape from her. The memory of that – his agile leap from roof to roof being spoiled by the sudden presence of a mountain of cotton padding between his legs, was probably going to be stuck with him longer than he’d like. \n\nSly had been letting his mind dwell on it while ignoring most of what else was going on – something that lasted until the judge said the words ‘sentence you’ – that part seemed to warrant coming back and paying a bit more attention.\n\n“One-hundred and eighteen thousand, two hundred and sixty hours of community service.”\n\nSly shook his head briefly in surprise, confusion – relief? Community service? And that was- well, it was kind of long – but compared to forever, and not being behind bars for it? The raccoon’s head tilted slowly, glancing back at Carmelita for some kind of answer. The presence of what might’ve been a faint smile there suggested plenty. \n\n“To be taken to undergo process 43-P, variant V, immediately.”\n\nIt was the eye contact that did him in there. He got lost in that, and the way the sharp lights in the courtroom hit her blue hair. The urge to ask what the heck ‘process 43-P, variant V’ was only started to claw its way to his voice when that baton in the small of his back made its encore appearance. Being marched out of the court room just as abruptly as everything else had been so far. \n\nThat general mode of treatment continued through the halls of the building; apparently, whatever this was it didn’t require leaving. It wasn’t until Sly was passing by what appeared to be bathrooms that the jabbing in his back ceased, allowing him to turn around and finally realize it was a large, curiously svelte rhinoceros behind him – and that had been her horn.\n\n“Thanks for the consideration, but I don’t have to go-“\n\nThe imposing woman’s lips pursed gently as she nodded her head at one of the doors – there were the usuals (male, female, other) – and a fourth one a bit further out that he currently stood in front of.\n\n“Yeah, you actually do.”\n\nSly wasn’t about to argue with someone her size while still bound, and in the middle of the precinct. A chance would appear, this wasn’t it – so the door did find itself open a moment later. Of all possible things he could’ve found waiting? A small massage center, bar, and sauna were not what he was expecting.\n\n“Uh, okay – that’s…”\n\nCooper found himself having a bit of trouble finishing the thought. There didn’t seem to be a word for this, but then there was that jab in the back again. A couple steps into the room further and he heard the door lock behind him, then the gentle thuds of the guard’s footsteps. The cuffs were removed as soon as she was face to face with him, her glare softening – a little.\n\n“Strip down, then take a seat. Don’t worry, it’ll get started soon enough.”\n\nHe found himself with two options again – try something and make the rhino angry, or… strip naked in front of her and get something to drink. Not what he thought he’d be doing today, but a quick review of how bad that option seemed resulted in the answer ‘not very’. Removing the jumpsuit was quick enough, with his guard taking it off his hands. \n\nThen he simply found himself hesitating to start. The whole place had a kind of island resort feel going on, everything past the gate even had grass on the ground – the lights felt like sunlight instead of grinding fluorescents – the massage tables were stone with padding on top. After the moment passed he turned, opting not to try and cover anything as he padded lightly over to the ‘Poodle Spa’ bar. \n\nThere was a poodle behind it, that probably explained the name. Gray-blue fur (odd, usually that was a cat’s shade), huge hips, thick lips, somewhat vacant smile on them. She was already pouring something (and constantly licking her lips, like she was trying to suck on something) by the time he hesitantly leaned up onto a seat.\n\nThe drink set in front of him was a swirling haze of pink, purple, and white. It bore a little umbrella, a plastic sword with fruit speared through it, and a straw. The poodle said nothing just yet, but smiled and stared expectantly – with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. None of this felt right, but Sly hadn’t seen any clear exits – maybe through the sauna? He had to bide his time until he could check.\n\nIn the meantime, the drink was actually pretty good – something fruity yes, but it wasn’t cloying – it just seemed to crawl up his sinuses for some reason. The poodle behind the bar looked really excited about the fact that he was imbibing for some reason, and was already working on another.\n\nThere were two more glasses down there a moment later, one being sucked on by the tender herself, the other by Sly’s hand. Which was holding the first (now empty) one. Cooper blinked at it, wondering just how he went through the first one so quickly. He did this while gently plucking up the new glass, head tilted, suspicious (but also buzzed). \n\nThe raccoon thief turned his head, looking to the massage tables – to the guard standing by the door. Then came the door to the sauna opening – another poodle (definitely where the name came from) emerged, this one sporting a set of cumbersome breasts and hips broad enough that she more waddled to the massage tables than walked, taking up a place beside one and then curling her finger ‘come hither’ to the raccoon. \n\nSly had been intending to say something about coming over as soon as he finished his drink, only for the next thing he heard to be the suckling gurgle of a straw in an empty glass. Blinking down at his hand, there it sat – empty again. Sly swallowed heavily, feeling floaty, warm – and trying to wrestle that into being worried like he was certain he ought to be. He was dimly aware that someone took the empty glass from his hand as he slid off the seat and took an unsteady step.\n\nThat step was toward the massage tables. Something that in itself was enough to give his ‘be worried’ impulse more fuel, to spark a look up at the second poodle – who was still motioning him over. Cooper’s feet seemed to be inclined to obey her without actually waiting for his head to have a say in it. They just kept marching him toward that pink and white furred poodle, with her cow-like hips and heaving breasts the size of his head and change. And…\n\nCooper blinked slowly. He was staring right into those tits, his mouth hanging open a little, from about two feet away from them. Once more, that voice inside tried to raise an alarm again, but it lost its footing when the poodle stepped forward and pressed her chest against him while putting a towel into his hands.\n\n“Slip on upth to the table thweet thing.”\n\nThe thief swallowed heavily and nodded, slowly and deliberately rolling himself over onto the padded stone table – finding it perfectly heated and far more comfortable than expected. Sly laid on his stomach, using his arms and the towel as a pillow, feeling two heavy weights land on his ass immediately after – and an elbow work its way into his back, somehow just as sharp and yet much more comforting than the rhino’s horn had been. \n\nThere was still a bit of a sharp jab to it, he felt some pain – but it was the sort that came from loosening tension. The pressure of her breasts wasn’t exactly doing much to work things through the old-fashioned way, but it relaxed him in different ways. It also probably would’ve left him with an erection pressing into the table if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system slowing that down. Sly felt the poodle’s hands moving slowly down him, leaving him feeling limp and content – dangerously so, that voice in him insisted. He was so pliant that when the poodle curled her arms under him and lifted him up from the table he just let it happen. \n\nThere wasn’t much distance between the tables and the sauna, a breath or two – and then he was being hit with the humid warmth of the inside of that small wooden enclosure. The poodle masseuse set him down on one of the wooden benches, the rest of the room being empty apart from them. She spread his towel out over his lap, patted him on the head, and began sauntering to the door only to pause at the threshold.\n\n“Thee you in a few thweety, jutht relax and enjoy!”\n\nAnd then closed the door behind her. \n\nSly leaned his head back, letting it rest against the wall. The lighting was gentler in here, the air a comforting pressure – like those tits had been, the voice finally found nothing left to fight back with. He still had no clue why he was getting a spa treatment for community service, he’d figure that out later.\n\nThe steam smelled a little fragrant, like flower blossoms – and like that drink he’d had. It was creeping through his skin, dragging out a gentle sweat, something that tingled a little just below the skin. \n\nThat voice tried to chime in again – Sly knew what magic felt like, hell he’d just had it used on him the other day when that bunny zapped his gear into a colossal diaper and left him helpless. He just couldn’t seem to muster the necessary energy to care when he tried. A glance down showed whatever it was at work already, he looked a bit… the word puffy seemed to serve best. Swollen around the hips, the belly, the chest. Sly tugged the towel away with nearly limp arms (and very limp wrists). \n\nThe tingling intensified, leaving Cooper gasping gently as he shifted his hips – feeling a creaking inside, a relaxed stretch that reached clear down to his bones. Just a bit more of that bench beneath him was occupied by his ass, and he felt himself starting to grow harder for it. Sly’s smile was equal parts content and lewd for that, but as much as he tried to reach down and attend to his growing erection his grip wasn’t cooperating. The raccoon’s fingers kept slipping right off. \n\nRight onto his thighs, which was a clear sign of just how thick they were growing. Sly shifted again in his seat, feeling his hips creak and push again – feeling something puffy between his buttocks rubbing against the grain of the wood. Something that felt fantastic, and very nearly accomplished what his hands were failing at. Cooper found himself curling his arms around his belly trying to handle just how much euphoria that little grind had produced.\n\nIt felt like hugging a pillow, which was hooked up to a stuffing hose. Sly tried to focus on it, not the easiest thing – but there was some success to it as he watched his belly inflate with pliant fat. The new flesh glided over top of his dick, hiding it from view, but leaving it pinned maddeningly in a nest of warm, soft, sweat-slick flesh that wobbled and caressed the straining member as the raccoon shook himself just to see how it felt. \n\nThat seemed like a fabulous idea as soon as he tried it – both the wobbling flesh, and the fact that it conveniently set his ass rubbing against his seat with the same motion. Sly’s lips pulled back in a half-vacant grin as he slid both hands under his still expanding belly, clasping his dick with his still-feeble grasp, and then started to rock back and forth. He put his hands below his cock, pressing upward – using the motion to grind against his own fresh body fat, and using every back swing to rub hard on the rough wooden bench.\n\nSly wasn’t focused enough to realize how girly and bubbly the giggle he let out was. \n\nFailing to notice that, the raccoon kept on bucking against his own belly, feeling a hazy bliss settle over him – a completely different kind of tingling than the pervasive magic in the room. The only thing that actually stopped it was the clenching of his balls as the thief finally managed to bring himself to orgasm, fucking his own belly. It was a fresh brand of weakness that spread out through him as he did, leaving him panting as he felt his cock pump and squeeze in his hands – felt it drizzle and shrink. He was still trying to catch his breath as it diminished to its old familiar size, one hand feebly reaching over for the towel. \n\nHe had to heft his own gut up to get back under himself with that towel at this point. A fresh squeeze from inside emptied itself into the towel while he wiped up around himself, cleaned his hands off. Sly set the towel aside afterward, other hand still sandwiched comfortably in his fleshy lap. Cooper squeezed his hand gently again-\n\nHe looked downward, brow furrowed just a little. Everything felt smaller. Maybe that was something to do with the weight? He certainly had a comfortable little mound of pudge at the root now. But pushing back against it – no, it was smaller. In fact, it was still shrinking. Sly swallowed hard and stood up, unsteady at best – and felt the pressing heft of all that weight settle downward. Thick hips, bulbous ass, dangling belly – enough of it that it was now very hard to keep his fingers anywhere near his manhood (if it still deserved to be called that). Another moment or two of pawing gently at himself and Sly felt the greasy, crawling growth of blubber at his sides pull his fingertips away from what now felt like a tiny sausage hiding inside a fleshy donut. \n\nSly brought his other arm around, trying to pull his gut up enough to reach again – but as he hugged his belly with both arms a rumbling passed over his skin, through his bones. Staring down over his frame, the raccoon watched as the sauna’s pace increased just a little. Enough to take him from plump, to fat, to a few shades past. His hips probably rivaled the rhino guard’s, if not bested – thighs quivering just from the gentle sway as he stood there, something nestled between his buttocks flexing and squeezing involuntarily, and his arms buried under steadily more flesh and fur trying to overflow around them. \n\nThe sensation crept upward. Gathering itself from the lower parts of him, growing into an intense buzzing that clawed up into his chest, and under his chin, up into the sinuses – Sly watched his nose round out a little, his snout stretch just a bit, and did so while staring down at his flabby chest growing more clearly defined with each moment. Not defined by muscle, but rather graduating from loose, floppy moobs into pert breasts. They sat nice and neat atop the belly at first, and would have continued to had they been done growing. \n\nCooper found himself picturing the pair on the masseuse.\n\nHe also found himself staring at what looked like it was destined to be another set thereof. Both were still swelling, nipples growing puffier – pinker – and each welcoming orb inflating a bit more with every breath the raccoon took. Sly lost sight of the still-growing areola when what had been breasts became proper tits, and were swiftly approaching the size and heft where not calling them ‘whorish’ was both difficult and generous.\n\nSly’s arms finally let go, leaving all the collected weight hanging free. The doors opened at roughly that moment, showing the poodle that had been behind the bar holding a hand out.\n\n“Aww! You look delicious – come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”\n\nSly blinked slowly, focusing was exceedingly difficult still. Obedience on the other hand appeared to be easy, and natural. His first steps were not the graceful, light things he’d spent his life with though. The footfall was heavy, and it left every inch of him moving. A quivering wave traveled from foot up to whorish tits, hips swaying gently – and the next step had much the same effect. As soon as he was close enough to take the poodle’s hand he did so, needing the help to stay steady.\n\nCleaned up. That was probably good, right? Clothes, maybe – then he could… he wasn’t sure.\n\nThe poodle did show him out into another room that had clothes in it for that matter. It was across the hall from the entry to the sauna. Tile floors, racks of clothing, large chairs, mirrors, brushes, scissors – a salon?\n\n\tSly’s guide leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then gave his ass a firm slap on her way out the door before closing it.\n\n\tInside – yet another poodle. The theme for the place was rock solid. This one had a build that looked just a few shades shy of his, and was sporting a frilly pink silk dress (and an apron for keeping fur off it) with a pair of clippers in one hand.\n\n\t“Oooh! Blank slate, and a big one! Come on, sit!”\n\n\tIt was that last word. It gripped something in Sly’s mind and threw a lever that made his body move, like it or not. He walked – no, waddled. That swinging gait, hips flying out so he could get his own thighs around each other, feeling his miniscule cock being squeezed and devoured by his own flabby body carried him directly forward. The seat was a recliner, covered in a plastic sheathe, sporting a small ‘U’ shape cut out of the back to lean the head back for haircuts in. Sly had to turn slowly, shuffling one foot at a time, and nearly collapsed into the seat under the grip gravity had on his ass at this size.\n\n\tBut he’d done it, he’d heard the word and done what he was supposed to – good dog, right?\n\n\tThat thought elicited the mental equivalent of a record scratch until the sound of the buzzers battered it out of his mind. \n\n\t“Don’t worry! I will take excellent care of your fur dear, you’ll look perfect!”\n\n\tPerfect sounded nice, and when was the last time he’d let himself be pampered like this? Sly blinked a little, staring upward. The ceiling had a sparkly, rose and pearl color scheme to it. The patterns seemed to change depending on where he looked, and it was a bit mesmerizing to keep staring – so he did precisely that. Letting the pretty colors dominate his attention while the gentle vibration of the buzzers moved over his body, all few hundred pounds of it. Sometimes the other poodle spoke, and mostly Sly nodded – sometimes said yes to things, but attention was far from being paid – not even when she brought the odd brushes and puffy things around to his face, though the lipstick felt odd.\n\nSly mostly snapped back to the present when the sharp, pinching ‘punch’ sensations in his nipples demanded it. That was worth a quick startle, fingers clenched, a soft little ‘yipe’ that sounded alarmingly girly. The raccoon recovered from it just in time to see the stylist snapping two silver rings into the swollen mounds hanging off his chest. She put her hand to Sly’s shoulder afterward.\n\n“Good! Come on, now for the dressing!”\n\nCooper split his attention between heaving himself laboriously out of the seat, feeling the mass of weight glued to his ass flow as he did. It slid back out into the loose curves it wanted to hang in, shaking a little as he slowly seized balance. The rest of his mind was on reaching forward and feeling those fresh piercings in his nipples, each little tweak of which caused a tiny spark to dance its way down his nerves and into the shrunken nub between his legs. He was also following to the clothing racks at that point, but this wasn’t what Sly was paying attention to. \n\nThe selection process didn’t interest him so much, and it seemed like his stylist was doing most of the thinking there anyway. Thankfully there weren’t too many garments to deal with. Two were set on the floor, followed by a quick request to lift his legs one at a time. Sly couldn’t really see any good reason to deny this – literally, his own belly created a horizon of flab and fur that was more than sufficient to hide the floor. As the poodle rose he felt the clothing come with her though, felt something silky sliding against his legs – against patches of shaved short fur, something that dug up nice and deep between his thighs – into his ass. That latter part left Sly’s hips shaking a little, feeling weak – he swallowed hard again and looked backward to get a glimpse of a thin, pink strap of fabric that emerged from deep in the crevice of his buttocks – and was quickly obscured by a lighter shaded skirt that sat just above it on his waist (but hung so short that it obscured nothing much else). \n\n“Arms out!”\n\nSly’s arms shot out forward without thinking about it. It took two seconds more of staring at his skirt-laced ass before he got around to looking forward, watching two straps be slid around his hands, and a flowing mass of pastel pink fabric billow out over his head. The shirt, tank-top, settled over top of him – kind of anyway. It covered his breasts, and sat on the top half of his belly, but the majority of it hung out over his waist. There was writing sprawled across, but it wasn’t something he could read seeing only half the letters – the rest of it was too far wrapped around his chest. \n\nHe didn’t actually have the idea to look in the mirror – it just happened to be in his view when the stylist took his hand. Seeing ‘Fag-in-Training’ on his top desperately tried to rekindle that long-silent voice of worry, but it seemed to still be falling on deaf ears as he was eased awkwardly, heavily, into the hall. \n\nCarmelita was waiting, right in the door just across. Sly felt his tail, thinner – puffy at the end, start wagging furiously at the sight. She looked a little unsure of something, but waved him to come back into the odd little spa area. Judy and the rhino were both present, sitting on top of the massage tables, looking thoroughly amused by something. \n\nCooper wondered precisely what that was as he waddled awkwardly in, it never occurring to him that he was the focus of it. The door closed behind him once more, and Carmelita’s voice crawled into his ears like honey.\n\n“Alright, down – hands and knee – butt up.”\n\nIt seemed like the most natural thing in the world when Sly dropped down. The feel of his tits smushing against the ground, his back arching as his belly dangled – ass pointing as close to straight up as possible. There was something oddly comfortable about the position. \n\nBehind him, the fox was staring down at a large, puffy hole – pink lipped, coated in a slowly oozing natural lubricant. The thong really didn’t hide anything, and when she slid the belt loose of her uniform there was a throbbing, erect cock that had already taken notice. One exhale later, preparing herself for something she’d joked about in the past but was honestly not sure she ever expected would happen, Carmelita roughly seized Sly by his plush buttocks and slammed herself in – the flimsy thong sliding right out of her way.\n\nSly’s gasp was a bit higher pitched, and a trifle wanton. He felt inch after inch of the vixen thrust deep into him, battering at flesh – and at something else. He didn’t understand it, but feeling his ass stretch and accommodate her – feeling the pressure and pleasure when she bottomed out, was scratching an itch in his mind that he hadn’t been aware was there. \n\nThe raccoon poodle let loose a girlish species of grunt, almost more of a yelp – Carmelita had hit something on that last thrust that left him near blind as pink sparkles danced through his vision, and all through his nerves. Something that would’ve passed if the vixen didn’t pull back and then hammer right down onto it again. By the third one Sly was producing panting, whorish moans every thrust – with the other two cops in the room starting to clap slowly. Erupting into proper applause when Carmelita grunted hard herself, staying bottomed out into Sly’s comfortable ass and quivering.\n\nSly’s breaths came in ragged, short bursts. There was nothing close to clear thought left in him, his hips felt like jelly when Carmelita let them go, flopping heavily onto the floor – drooling a little as he felt something broad and smooth slid in where there’d been a dick moments before. A couple of soft ‘clicks’ from whatever was being nestled into his ass left the object stretching, pressing outward, becoming a tighter fit by the moment. The only other thing he could really focus on beyond that was the full, hot feeling nestled deep inside where the vixen had emptied herself inside him, it was like the more he focused on that the sharper everything else in the room seemed to be. Or maybe it was just Carmelita?\n\nCooper rolled laboriously over, that gnawing thought insisting he look up at the woman who had just taken him. Take her in, the sight of her face – the contours of her cock – the way it smelled, tasted, moved. Something was developing like a photograph in his mind, or maybe a stone carving was more appropriate. It grew clearer with each moment – as did everything else.\n\nEverything. He blinked, quickly at first – then slower – and then went wide-eyed as he stared down at himself. At the breasts fit for an augmented prostitute, the body fit for a well-fed mother of fifteen, the poodle-cut fur and Fag-in-Training shirt.\n\n“Wh- what- WHAT?!”\n\nThe bunny was howling in laughter at this point. Carmelita on the other hand winced a little.\n\n“You, this- no! Turn me back right n-“\n\n“Quiet!”\n\nSly’s mouth slammed shut, and much as he wished otherwise he couldn’t seem to finish the thought necessary to do anything with it other than lick those plump lips with their strawberry lipstick.\n\n“Come on Cooper, you knew this was a possibility. You’ll pay back your debt to society with that ass and those lips, and just maybe with some of your old talents. You got to play the daring thief for quite a while, now you get to spend a while doing the cock-hungry poodlefag dance. And for your first number?”\n\nCarmelita’s voice had picked up intensity slowly, growing firmer – which Sly found felt maddeningly compelling. He couldn’t ignore her, couldn’t look away, couldn’t get himself out of the grounded pose he was in. Right that moment he was following her gaze toward the other officers, in particular to the rhino – who had slid their uniform off and was airing out a thick, throbbing member that had to be as thick as his fattened arms.\n\n“Go beg for permission to blow Officer Clementine.”\n\nThere were two voices at work inside Cooper again. One was familiar, it said ‘fuck that’ and wanted to get up and leave. The other one stuck to two words as well, but it apparently had a good deal more authority. Sly felt his knees and hands inching closer to the rhino, lips hanging open, trying his damnedest not to think about how inviting the dick looked – how good it would feel inside him. Those two words kept repeating in his mind, and if his lips weren’t smacking and drooling he’d probably have said them instead of just repeating them like a mantra inside.\n\nYes daddy.\n\nDamningly, the voice for that set was the same high pitched, breathy one he’d heard come out of his throat moments ago. When he got to the rhino’s feet, Sly raised his hands to clasp the head of that cumbersome dick and looked upward, shaking – eyes completely unable to stay focused on anything but the member in his hands.\n\n“…Please, may I? I… I really need this!”\n\nThis managed to silence the laughter, all three officers shared glances – some confusion, some wonder – but the rhino spoke before the other two could.\n\n“Yeah! Go for it!”\n\nCooper near dove onto the end of the cock he held so reverently. Feeling his lips press forward, teeth pulled back, tongue loose and ready – Sly’s eyes shut as he leaned in and suckled. Taking as much of the rhino’s dick into his face as he was physically able to, up to where his throat bent just a bit too far – he’d been waiting for the gag reflex to kick in all through that first deep plunge, and it hadn’t shown itself. Instead he pulled back slowly, using his own saliva to slicken up the rhino’s shaft and give his hands something to work at it with more easily. The second plunge forward he leaned up a bit, managing to fit a bit more in as he tried to come straight at the length of it, hands wrapped tight just before his lips- pushing down toward the officer’s base, covering the last few inches his face wasn’t up to the challenge of yet.\n\nSly seemed to have acquired a natural instinct at this – his internal protests quieted as the rhythm took hold. Swallow, suckle, slide. Eventually there’d be the- ah yes. Cooper felt the whole mass stuffed into his face and hands clench and jerk, but his rhythm stayed constant. Don’t speed up, don’t slow down – keep doing what you were doing – said that urge inside him that used his voice (altered as it may be). Sure enough, the second sucking swallow after the first signs he felt the rhino’s first bursts of hot, sticky cum being emptied full-force into the back of his throat. The raccoon poodle suckled on it like he had his face wrapped around a giant straw, the rhino taking his head in her hands and kneading roughly at his ears and hair. Two more heavy spurts, then the drizzling trickle following. Sly found himself unable to pull loose until that point, and even then it was slow – hands trying to coax more out as he did, ending with him kissing the tip and trying to suck free just another drop or two of cum if he could.\n\nAnother breath or two later he swallowed again, staring down at the now-flaccid rhino cock. He knew he wanted to say something, but there was a good chance that ‘thank you’ wasn’t it despite it being what reached his ears.\n\nSome part of the spell broke after that, Sly could at least look around again – could muster slightly more coherent thought. The rhino was smiling, glowing even – the bunny was recording him with her phone – Carmelita was still staring wide-eyed and looked a bit pensive. It was her who spoke up again though.\n\n“C-come on Cooper. One more test. That’s uh, I’m good now you two. No more need for backup on this.”\n\nThe rhino and bunny didn’t argue about leaving, both had what they wanted after a fashion. A good, hard orgasm for one – an excellent story to share for the other. Sly was still sprawled out where he’d been before, hips spread wide, butt plugged up by some massive expanding toy, lips clean – because he’d licked every trace of cum off them. All this unfamiliar weight hanging off his body felt alien – and just a little pleasant in traitorous ways. Carmelita joined him down there afterward, holding something in her hands. \n\n“Alright Cooper, last thing. That uh, that wasn’t exactly standard – for the record. Just means I’ll need to take responsibility for a few things, and be patient.”\n\nThe vixen held up a collar, silver, with a pink heart shaped gem in the center. She pressed it into Sly’s hands and made eye contact with the clearly shaken raccoon poodle. \n\n“This is going to complete the change. It covers the mental side of the procedure, makes you fit the role on every level. You’ll be dim enough that math and literacy are going to be a challenge, at best. That craving for dick is going to get dialed up, and stay pretty much constantly on for the next few years. If not cock, then something in your ass, twenty-four seven. Gonna be some Phrench accented lisping too probably, we’re still not exactly sure where that part came from but there it is. The collar will lock on until the changes settle in.”\n\nSly had slowly grown more and more quietly horrified through the entire explanation. Something Carmelita clearly noticed, and wanted to address if she could.\n\n“We can reverse the cock craving and mental diminishing afterward Sly! That’s… that’s why I asked for this, okay? If you’d gone to jail over this then the alterations you got in there would’ve been for life. This way it’s just for the duration of the sentence – a few years from now you come out of it like waking up from a daydream full of dicks. Promise. So… put it on.”\n\nCooper’s expression had stayed largely the same throughout the whole thing. Shock, dread, something panicked that wanted to be defiant but couldn’t find a handhold to be so yet. His hands shook around the collar, staring at it, not able to will himself to speak lest he lose the resistance he was trying to put toward not wearing this thing that was going to reduce him to a drooling, vapid, dick hungry whore.\n\n“Put the collar on, bitch.”\n\nThe words hit his ears, and no sooner had his hands done precisely as they were told. Slid the silver collar around his neck, a completely different species of shackle than he expected, and locked it in place. His hands shook gently with the argument going on regarding limply returning them to his lap vs. tugging the thing off.\n\nCooper swallowed hard, and his hands returned to his lap – or at least as far down his swollen, flabby belly as he could manage to get them. He tried to look up to Carmelita’s eyes, but he found himself staring at the bulge in her uniform and the damp spot at its edge. There was a tickle in the back of his mind as he did, an itch deep up past where that toy plugged him from behind. His mind felt a bit fuzzy around the edges, and when he tried to power through it – or focus past it – a slight headache seemed to build. One that got worse the harder he tried. The instant he stopped thinking about it the pain abated, leaving him blinking dully again when the vixen officer spoke.\n\n“That’s test two passed. Alright, come on.”\n\nCarmelita stood, holding her hand out. Cooper took it gently, delicately – imagining a nice satin glove over his fingers – maybe something purple, with a matching set of leggings, and thong? He managed to find that thought odd enough to interrupt it, but when he tried to figure out why it felt so wrong he came up with far less than he would have an hour or two ago. It still served to let the vixen help him stand, albeit awkwardly and requiring some grunting effort on her part.\n\n“Time to take you to your new home for the duration of your community service Sly.”\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "\tCooper winced a little as the lights of the court room hit his eyes on being marched in. There was a sharp prod in his back to get him moving forward, but it wasn’t really much compared to the sting of getting himself caught – and with as little dignity as had been involved.

\tThe court room itself was mostly empty, just a few directly involved parties – guards, the thick tusked walrus in the robe ready to pass judgment on him, and in the seats were Carmelita, and the bunny who had ruined his escape from her. The memory of that – his agile leap from roof to roof being spoiled by the sudden presence of a mountain of cotton padding between his legs, was probably going to be stuck with him longer than he’d like.

Sly had been letting his mind dwell on it while ignoring most of what else was going on – something that lasted until the judge said the words ‘sentence you’ – that part seemed to warrant coming back and paying a bit more attention.

“One-hundred and eighteen thousand, two hundred and sixty hours of community service.”

Sly shook his head briefly in surprise, confusion – relief? Community service? And that was- well, it was kind of long – but compared to forever, and not being behind bars for it? The raccoon’s head tilted slowly, glancing back at Carmelita for some kind of answer. The presence of what might’ve been a faint smile there suggested plenty.

“To be taken to undergo process 43-P, variant V, immediately.”

It was the eye contact that did him in there. He got lost in that, and the way the sharp lights in the courtroom hit her blue hair. The urge to ask what the heck ‘process 43-P, variant V’ was only started to claw its way to his voice when that baton in the small of his back made its encore appearance. Being marched out of the court room just as abruptly as everything else had been so far.

That general mode of treatment continued through the halls of the building; apparently, whatever this was it didn’t require leaving. It wasn’t until Sly was passing by what appeared to be bathrooms that the jabbing in his back ceased, allowing him to turn around and finally realize it was a large, curiously svelte rhinoceros behind him – and that had been her horn.

“Thanks for the consideration, but I don’t have to go-“

The imposing woman’s lips pursed gently as she nodded her head at one of the doors – there were the usuals (male, female, other) – and a fourth one a bit further out that he currently stood in front of.

“Yeah, you actually do.”

Sly wasn’t about to argue with someone her size while still bound, and in the middle of the precinct. A chance would appear, this wasn’t it – so the door did find itself open a moment later. Of all possible things he could’ve found waiting? A small massage center, bar, and sauna were not what he was expecting.

“Uh, okay – that’s…”

Cooper found himself having a bit of trouble finishing the thought. There didn’t seem to be a word for this, but then there was that jab in the back again. A couple steps into the room further and he heard the door lock behind him, then the gentle thuds of the guard’s footsteps. The cuffs were removed as soon as she was face to face with him, her glare softening – a little.

“Strip down, then take a seat. Don’t worry, it’ll get started soon enough.”

He found himself with two options again – try something and make the rhino angry, or… strip naked in front of her and get something to drink. Not what he thought he’d be doing today, but a quick review of how bad that option seemed resulted in the answer ‘not very’. Removing the jumpsuit was quick enough, with his guard taking it off his hands.

Then he simply found himself hesitating to start. The whole place had a kind of island resort feel going on, everything past the gate even had grass on the ground – the lights felt like sunlight instead of grinding fluorescents – the massage tables were stone with padding on top. After the moment passed he turned, opting not to try and cover anything as he padded lightly over to the ‘Poodle Spa’ bar.

There was a poodle behind it, that probably explained the name. Gray-blue fur (odd, usually that was a cat’s shade), huge hips, thick lips, somewhat vacant smile on them. She was already pouring something (and constantly licking her lips, like she was trying to suck on something) by the time he hesitantly leaned up onto a seat.

The drink set in front of him was a swirling haze of pink, purple, and white. It bore a little umbrella, a plastic sword with fruit speared through it, and a straw. The poodle said nothing just yet, but smiled and stared expectantly – with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. None of this felt right, but Sly hadn’t seen any clear exits – maybe through the sauna? He had to bide his time until he could check.

In the meantime, the drink was actually pretty good – something fruity yes, but it wasn’t cloying – it just seemed to crawl up his sinuses for some reason. The poodle behind the bar looked really excited about the fact that he was imbibing for some reason, and was already working on another.

There were two more glasses down there a moment later, one being sucked on by the tender herself, the other by Sly’s hand. Which was holding the first (now empty) one. Cooper blinked at it, wondering just how he went through the first one so quickly. He did this while gently plucking up the new glass, head tilted, suspicious (but also buzzed).

The raccoon thief turned his head, looking to the massage tables – to the guard standing by the door. Then came the door to the sauna opening – another poodle (definitely where the name came from) emerged, this one sporting a set of cumbersome breasts and hips broad enough that she more waddled to the massage tables than walked, taking up a place beside one and then curling her finger ‘come hither’ to the raccoon.

Sly had been intending to say something about coming over as soon as he finished his drink, only for the next thing he heard to be the suckling gurgle of a straw in an empty glass. Blinking down at his hand, there it sat – empty again. Sly swallowed heavily, feeling floaty, warm – and trying to wrestle that into being worried like he was certain he ought to be. He was dimly aware that someone took the empty glass from his hand as he slid off the seat and took an unsteady step.

That step was toward the massage tables. Something that in itself was enough to give his ‘be worried’ impulse more fuel, to spark a look up at the second poodle – who was still motioning him over. Cooper’s feet seemed to be inclined to obey her without actually waiting for his head to have a say in it. They just kept marching him toward that pink and white furred poodle, with her cow-like hips and heaving breasts the size of his head and change. And…

Cooper blinked slowly. He was staring right into those tits, his mouth hanging open a little, from about two feet away from them. Once more, that voice inside tried to raise an alarm again, but it lost its footing when the poodle stepped forward and pressed her chest against him while putting a towel into his hands.

“Slip on upth to the table thweet thing.”

The thief swallowed heavily and nodded, slowly and deliberately rolling himself over onto the padded stone table – finding it perfectly heated and far more comfortable than expected. Sly laid on his stomach, using his arms and the towel as a pillow, feeling two heavy weights land on his ass immediately after – and an elbow work its way into his back, somehow just as sharp and yet much more comforting than the rhino’s horn had been.

There was still a bit of a sharp jab to it, he felt some pain – but it was the sort that came from loosening tension. The pressure of her breasts wasn’t exactly doing much to work things through the old-fashioned way, but it relaxed him in different ways. It also probably would’ve left him with an erection pressing into the table if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system slowing that down. Sly felt the poodle’s hands moving slowly down him, leaving him feeling limp and content – dangerously so, that voice in him insisted. He was so pliant that when the poodle curled her arms under him and lifted him up from the table he just let it happen.

There wasn’t much distance between the tables and the sauna, a breath or two – and then he was being hit with the humid warmth of the inside of that small wooden enclosure. The poodle masseuse set him down on one of the wooden benches, the rest of the room being empty apart from them. She spread his towel out over his lap, patted him on the head, and began sauntering to the door only to pause at the threshold.

“Thee you in a few thweety, jutht relax and enjoy!”

And then closed the door behind her.

Sly leaned his head back, letting it rest against the wall. The lighting was gentler in here, the air a comforting pressure – like those tits had been, the voice finally found nothing left to fight back with. He still had no clue why he was getting a spa treatment for community service, he’d figure that out later.

The steam smelled a little fragrant, like flower blossoms – and like that drink he’d had. It was creeping through his skin, dragging out a gentle sweat, something that tingled a little just below the skin.

That voice tried to chime in again – Sly knew what magic felt like, hell he’d just had it used on him the other day when that bunny zapped his gear into a colossal diaper and left him helpless. He just couldn’t seem to muster the necessary energy to care when he tried. A glance down showed whatever it was at work already, he looked a bit… the word puffy seemed to serve best. Swollen around the hips, the belly, the chest. Sly tugged the towel away with nearly limp arms (and very limp wrists).

The tingling intensified, leaving Cooper gasping gently as he shifted his hips – feeling a creaking inside, a relaxed stretch that reached clear down to his bones. Just a bit more of that bench beneath him was occupied by his ass, and he felt himself starting to grow harder for it. Sly’s smile was equal parts content and lewd for that, but as much as he tried to reach down and attend to his growing erection his grip wasn’t cooperating. The raccoon’s fingers kept slipping right off.

Right onto his thighs, which was a clear sign of just how thick they were growing. Sly shifted again in his seat, feeling his hips creak and push again – feeling something puffy between his buttocks rubbing against the grain of the wood. Something that felt fantastic, and very nearly accomplished what his hands were failing at. Cooper found himself curling his arms around his belly trying to handle just how much euphoria that little grind had produced.

It felt like hugging a pillow, which was hooked up to a stuffing hose. Sly tried to focus on it, not the easiest thing – but there was some success to it as he watched his belly inflate with pliant fat. The new flesh glided over top of his dick, hiding it from view, but leaving it pinned maddeningly in a nest of warm, soft, sweat-slick flesh that wobbled and caressed the straining member as the raccoon shook himself just to see how it felt.

That seemed like a fabulous idea as soon as he tried it – both the wobbling flesh, and the fact that it conveniently set his ass rubbing against his seat with the same motion. Sly’s lips pulled back in a half-vacant grin as he slid both hands under his still expanding belly, clasping his dick with his still-feeble grasp, and then started to rock back and forth. He put his hands below his cock, pressing upward – using the motion to grind against his own fresh body fat, and using every back swing to rub hard on the rough wooden bench.

Sly wasn’t focused enough to realize how girly and bubbly the giggle he let out was.

Failing to notice that, the raccoon kept on bucking against his own belly, feeling a hazy bliss settle over him – a completely different kind of tingling than the pervasive magic in the room. The only thing that actually stopped it was the clenching of his balls as the thief finally managed to bring himself to orgasm, fucking his own belly. It was a fresh brand of weakness that spread out through him as he did, leaving him panting as he felt his cock pump and squeeze in his hands – felt it drizzle and shrink. He was still trying to catch his breath as it diminished to its old familiar size, one hand feebly reaching over for the towel.

He had to heft his own gut up to get back under himself with that towel at this point. A fresh squeeze from inside emptied itself into the towel while he wiped up around himself, cleaned his hands off. Sly set the towel aside afterward, other hand still sandwiched comfortably in his fleshy lap. Cooper squeezed his hand gently again-

He looked downward, brow furrowed just a little. Everything felt smaller. Maybe that was something to do with the weight? He certainly had a comfortable little mound of pudge at the root now. But pushing back against it – no, it was smaller. In fact, it was still shrinking. Sly swallowed hard and stood up, unsteady at best – and felt the pressing heft of all that weight settle downward. Thick hips, bulbous ass, dangling belly – enough of it that it was now very hard to keep his fingers anywhere near his manhood (if it still deserved to be called that). Another moment or two of pawing gently at himself and Sly felt the greasy, crawling growth of blubber at his sides pull his fingertips away from what now felt like a tiny sausage hiding inside a fleshy donut.

Sly brought his other arm around, trying to pull his gut up enough to reach again – but as he hugged his belly with both arms a rumbling passed over his skin, through his bones. Staring down over his frame, the raccoon watched as the sauna’s pace increased just a little. Enough to take him from plump, to fat, to a few shades past. His hips probably rivaled the rhino guard’s, if not bested – thighs quivering just from the gentle sway as he stood there, something nestled between his buttocks flexing and squeezing involuntarily, and his arms buried under steadily more flesh and fur trying to overflow around them.

The sensation crept upward. Gathering itself from the lower parts of him, growing into an intense buzzing that clawed up into his chest, and under his chin, up into the sinuses – Sly watched his nose round out a little, his snout stretch just a bit, and did so while staring down at his flabby chest growing more clearly defined with each moment. Not defined by muscle, but rather graduating from loose, floppy moobs into pert breasts. They sat nice and neat atop the belly at first, and would have continued to had they been done growing.

Cooper found himself picturing the pair on the masseuse.

He also found himself staring at what looked like it was destined to be another set thereof. Both were still swelling, nipples growing puffier – pinker – and each welcoming orb inflating a bit more with every breath the raccoon took. Sly lost sight of the still-growing areola when what had been breasts became proper tits, and were swiftly approaching the size and heft where not calling them ‘whorish’ was both difficult and generous.

Sly’s arms finally let go, leaving all the collected weight hanging free. The doors opened at roughly that moment, showing the poodle that had been behind the bar holding a hand out.

“Aww! You look delicious – come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Sly blinked slowly, focusing was exceedingly difficult still. Obedience on the other hand appeared to be easy, and natural. His first steps were not the graceful, light things he’d spent his life with though. The footfall was heavy, and it left every inch of him moving. A quivering wave traveled from foot up to whorish tits, hips swaying gently – and the next step had much the same effect. As soon as he was close enough to take the poodle’s hand he did so, needing the help to stay steady.

Cleaned up. That was probably good, right? Clothes, maybe – then he could… he wasn’t sure.

The poodle did show him out into another room that had clothes in it for that matter. It was across the hall from the entry to the sauna. Tile floors, racks of clothing, large chairs, mirrors, brushes, scissors – a salon?

\tSly’s guide leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then gave his ass a firm slap on her way out the door before closing it.

\tInside – yet another poodle. The theme for the place was rock solid. This one had a build that looked just a few shades shy of his, and was sporting a frilly pink silk dress (and an apron for keeping fur off it) with a pair of clippers in one hand.

\t“Oooh! Blank slate, and a big one! Come on, sit!”

\tIt was that last word. It gripped something in Sly’s mind and threw a lever that made his body move, like it or not. He walked – no, waddled. That swinging gait, hips flying out so he could get his own thighs around each other, feeling his miniscule cock being squeezed and devoured by his own flabby body carried him directly forward. The seat was a recliner, covered in a plastic sheathe, sporting a small ‘U’ shape cut out of the back to lean the head back for haircuts in. Sly had to turn slowly, shuffling one foot at a time, and nearly collapsed into the seat under the grip gravity had on his ass at this size.

\tBut he’d done it, he’d heard the word and done what he was supposed to – good dog, right?

\tThat thought elicited the mental equivalent of a record scratch until the sound of the buzzers battered it out of his mind.

\t“Don’t worry! I will take excellent care of your fur dear, you’ll look perfect!”

\tPerfect sounded nice, and when was the last time he’d let himself be pampered like this? Sly blinked a little, staring upward. The ceiling had a sparkly, rose and pearl color scheme to it. The patterns seemed to change depending on where he looked, and it was a bit mesmerizing to keep staring – so he did precisely that. Letting the pretty colors dominate his attention while the gentle vibration of the buzzers moved over his body, all few hundred pounds of it. Sometimes the other poodle spoke, and mostly Sly nodded – sometimes said yes to things, but attention was far from being paid – not even when she brought the odd brushes and puffy things around to his face, though the lipstick felt odd.

Sly mostly snapped back to the present when the sharp, pinching ‘punch’ sensations in his nipples demanded it. That was worth a quick startle, fingers clenched, a soft little ‘yipe’ that sounded alarmingly girly. The raccoon recovered from it just in time to see the stylist snapping two silver rings into the swollen mounds hanging off his chest. She put her hand to Sly’s shoulder afterward.

“Good! Come on, now for the dressing!”

Cooper split his attention between heaving himself laboriously out of the seat, feeling the mass of weight glued to his ass flow as he did. It slid back out into the loose curves it wanted to hang in, shaking a little as he slowly seized balance. The rest of his mind was on reaching forward and feeling those fresh piercings in his nipples, each little tweak of which caused a tiny spark to dance its way down his nerves and into the shrunken nub between his legs. He was also following to the clothing racks at that point, but this wasn’t what Sly was paying attention to.

The selection process didn’t interest him so much, and it seemed like his stylist was doing most of the thinking there anyway. Thankfully there weren’t too many garments to deal with. Two were set on the floor, followed by a quick request to lift his legs one at a time. Sly couldn’t really see any good reason to deny this – literally, his own belly created a horizon of flab and fur that was more than sufficient to hide the floor. As the poodle rose he felt the clothing come with her though, felt something silky sliding against his legs – against patches of shaved short fur, something that dug up nice and deep between his thighs – into his ass. That latter part left Sly’s hips shaking a little, feeling weak – he swallowed hard again and looked backward to get a glimpse of a thin, pink strap of fabric that emerged from deep in the crevice of his buttocks – and was quickly obscured by a lighter shaded skirt that sat just above it on his waist (but hung so short that it obscured nothing much else).

“Arms out!”

Sly’s arms shot out forward without thinking about it. It took two seconds more of staring at his skirt-laced ass before he got around to looking forward, watching two straps be slid around his hands, and a flowing mass of pastel pink fabric billow out over his head. The shirt, tank-top, settled over top of him – kind of anyway. It covered his breasts, and sat on the top half of his belly, but the majority of it hung out over his waist. There was writing sprawled across, but it wasn’t something he could read seeing only half the letters – the rest of it was too far wrapped around his chest.

He didn’t actually have the idea to look in the mirror – it just happened to be in his view when the stylist took his hand. Seeing ‘Fag-in-Training’ on his top desperately tried to rekindle that long-silent voice of worry, but it seemed to still be falling on deaf ears as he was eased awkwardly, heavily, into the hall.

Carmelita was waiting, right in the door just across. Sly felt his tail, thinner – puffy at the end, start wagging furiously at the sight. She looked a little unsure of something, but waved him to come back into the odd little spa area. Judy and the rhino were both present, sitting on top of the massage tables, looking thoroughly amused by something.

Cooper wondered precisely what that was as he waddled awkwardly in, it never occurring to him that he was the focus of it. The door closed behind him once more, and Carmelita’s voice crawled into his ears like honey.

“Alright, down – hands and knee – butt up.”

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world when Sly dropped down. The feel of his tits smushing against the ground, his back arching as his belly dangled – ass pointing as close to straight up as possible. There was something oddly comfortable about the position.

Behind him, the fox was staring down at a large, puffy hole – pink lipped, coated in a slowly oozing natural lubricant. The thong really didn’t hide anything, and when she slid the belt loose of her uniform there was a throbbing, erect cock that had already taken notice. One exhale later, preparing herself for something she’d joked about in the past but was honestly not sure she ever expected would happen, Carmelita roughly seized Sly by his plush buttocks and slammed herself in – the flimsy thong sliding right out of her way.

Sly’s gasp was a bit higher pitched, and a trifle wanton. He felt inch after inch of the vixen thrust deep into him, battering at flesh – and at something else. He didn’t understand it, but feeling his ass stretch and accommodate her – feeling the pressure and pleasure when she bottomed out, was scratching an itch in his mind that he hadn’t been aware was there.

The raccoon poodle let loose a girlish species of grunt, almost more of a yelp – Carmelita had hit something on that last thrust that left him near blind as pink sparkles danced through his vision, and all through his nerves. Something that would’ve passed if the vixen didn’t pull back and then hammer right down onto it again. By the third one Sly was producing panting, whorish moans every thrust – with the other two cops in the room starting to clap slowly. Erupting into proper applause when Carmelita grunted hard herself, staying bottomed out into Sly’s comfortable ass and quivering.

Sly’s breaths came in ragged, short bursts. There was nothing close to clear thought left in him, his hips felt like jelly when Carmelita let them go, flopping heavily onto the floor – drooling a little as he felt something broad and smooth slid in where there’d been a dick moments before. A couple of soft ‘clicks’ from whatever was being nestled into his ass left the object stretching, pressing outward, becoming a tighter fit by the moment. The only other thing he could really focus on beyond that was the full, hot feeling nestled deep inside where the vixen had emptied herself inside him, it was like the more he focused on that the sharper everything else in the room seemed to be. Or maybe it was just Carmelita?

Cooper rolled laboriously over, that gnawing thought insisting he look up at the woman who had just taken him. Take her in, the sight of her face – the contours of her cock – the way it smelled, tasted, moved. Something was developing like a photograph in his mind, or maybe a stone carving was more appropriate. It grew clearer with each moment – as did everything else.

Everything. He blinked, quickly at first – then slower – and then went wide-eyed as he stared down at himself. At the breasts fit for an augmented prostitute, the body fit for a well-fed mother of fifteen, the poodle-cut fur and Fag-in-Training shirt.

“Wh- what- WHAT?!”

The bunny was howling in laughter at this point. Carmelita on the other hand winced a little.

“You, this- no! Turn me back right n-“

“Quiet!”

Sly’s mouth slammed shut, and much as he wished otherwise he couldn’t seem to finish the thought necessary to do anything with it other than lick those plump lips with their strawberry lipstick.

“Come on Cooper, you knew this was a possibility. You’ll pay back your debt to society with that ass and those lips, and just maybe with some of your old talents. You got to play the daring thief for quite a while, now you get to spend a while doing the cock-hungry poodlefag dance. And for your first number?”

Carmelita’s voice had picked up intensity slowly, growing firmer – which Sly found felt maddeningly compelling. He couldn’t ignore her, couldn’t look away, couldn’t get himself out of the grounded pose he was in. Right that moment he was following her gaze toward the other officers, in particular to the rhino – who had slid their uniform off and was airing out a thick, throbbing member that had to be as thick as his fattened arms.

“Go beg for permission to blow Officer Clementine.”

There were two voices at work inside Cooper again. One was familiar, it said ‘fuck that’ and wanted to get up and leave. The other one stuck to two words as well, but it apparently had a good deal more authority. Sly felt his knees and hands inching closer to the rhino, lips hanging open, trying his damnedest not to think about how inviting the dick looked – how good it would feel inside him. Those two words kept repeating in his mind, and if his lips weren’t smacking and drooling he’d probably have said them instead of just repeating them like a mantra inside.

Yes daddy.

Damningly, the voice for that set was the same high pitched, breathy one he’d heard come out of his throat moments ago. When he got to the rhino’s feet, Sly raised his hands to clasp the head of that cumbersome dick and looked upward, shaking – eyes completely unable to stay focused on anything but the member in his hands.

“…Please, may I? I… I really need this!”

This managed to silence the laughter, all three officers shared glances – some confusion, some wonder – but the rhino spoke before the other two could.

“Yeah! Go for it!”

Cooper near dove onto the end of the cock he held so reverently. Feeling his lips press forward, teeth pulled back, tongue loose and ready – Sly’s eyes shut as he leaned in and suckled. Taking as much of the rhino’s dick into his face as he was physically able to, up to where his throat bent just a bit too far – he’d been waiting for the gag reflex to kick in all through that first deep plunge, and it hadn’t shown itself. Instead he pulled back slowly, using his own saliva to slicken up the rhino’s shaft and give his hands something to work at it with more easily. The second plunge forward he leaned up a bit, managing to fit a bit more in as he tried to come straight at the length of it, hands wrapped tight just before his lips- pushing down toward the officer’s base, covering the last few inches his face wasn’t up to the challenge of yet.

Sly seemed to have acquired a natural instinct at this – his internal protests quieted as the rhythm took hold. Swallow, suckle, slide. Eventually there’d be the- ah yes. Cooper felt the whole mass stuffed into his face and hands clench and jerk, but his rhythm stayed constant. Don’t speed up, don’t slow down – keep doing what you were doing – said that urge inside him that used his voice (altered as it may be). Sure enough, the second sucking swallow after the first signs he felt the rhino’s first bursts of hot, sticky cum being emptied full-force into the back of his throat. The raccoon poodle suckled on it like he had his face wrapped around a giant straw, the rhino taking his head in her hands and kneading roughly at his ears and hair. Two more heavy spurts, then the drizzling trickle following. Sly found himself unable to pull loose until that point, and even then it was slow – hands trying to coax more out as he did, ending with him kissing the tip and trying to suck free just another drop or two of cum if he could.

Another breath or two later he swallowed again, staring down at the now-flaccid rhino cock. He knew he wanted to say something, but there was a good chance that ‘thank you’ wasn’t it despite it being what reached his ears.

Some part of the spell broke after that, Sly could at least look around again – could muster slightly more coherent thought. The rhino was smiling, glowing even – the bunny was recording him with her phone – Carmelita was still staring wide-eyed and looked a bit pensive. It was her who spoke up again though.

“C-come on Cooper. One more test. That’s uh, I’m good now you two. No more need for backup on this.”

The rhino and bunny didn’t argue about leaving, both had what they wanted after a fashion. A good, hard orgasm for one – an excellent story to share for the other. Sly was still sprawled out where he’d been before, hips spread wide, butt plugged up by some massive expanding toy, lips clean – because he’d licked every trace of cum off them. All this unfamiliar weight hanging off his body felt alien – and just a little pleasant in traitorous ways. Carmelita joined him down there afterward, holding something in her hands.

“Alright Cooper, last thing. That uh, that wasn’t exactly standard – for the record. Just means I’ll need to take responsibility for a few things, and be patient.”

The vixen held up a collar, silver, with a pink heart shaped gem in the center. She pressed it into Sly’s hands and made eye contact with the clearly shaken raccoon poodle.

“This is going to complete the change. It covers the mental side of the procedure, makes you fit the role on every level. You’ll be dim enough that math and literacy are going to be a challenge, at best. That craving for dick is going to get dialed up, and stay pretty much constantly on for the next few years. If not cock, then something  in  your ass, twenty-four seven. Gonna be some Phrench accented lisping too probably, we’re still not exactly sure where that part came from but there it is. The collar will lock on until the changes settle in.”

Sly had slowly grown more and more quietly horrified through the entire explanation. Something Carmelita clearly noticed, and wanted to address if she could.

“We can reverse the cock craving and mental diminishing afterward Sly! That’s… that’s why I asked for this, okay? If you’d gone to jail over this then the alterations you got in there would’ve been for life. This way it’s just for the duration of the sentence – a few years from now you come out of it like waking up from a daydream full of dicks. Promise. So… put it on.”

Cooper’s expression had stayed largely the same throughout the whole thing. Shock, dread, something panicked that wanted to be defiant but couldn’t find a handhold to be so yet. His hands shook around the collar, staring at it, not able to will himself to speak lest he lose the resistance he was trying to put toward not wearing this thing that was going to reduce him to a drooling, vapid, dick hungry whore.

“Put the collar on, bitch.”

The words hit his ears, and no sooner had his hands done precisely as they were told. Slid the silver collar around his neck, a completely different species of shackle than he expected, and locked it in place. His hands shook gently with the argument going on regarding limply returning them to his lap vs. tugging the thing off.

Cooper swallowed hard, and his hands returned to his lap – or at least as far down his swollen, flabby belly as he could manage to get them. He tried to look up to Carmelita’s eyes, but he found himself staring at the bulge in her uniform and the damp spot at its edge. There was a tickle in the back of his mind as he did, an itch deep up past where that toy plugged him from behind. His mind felt a bit fuzzy around the edges, and when he tried to power through it – or focus past it – a slight headache seemed to build. One that got worse the harder he tried. The instant he stopped thinking about it the pain abated, leaving him blinking dully again when the vixen officer spoke.

“That’s test two passed. Alright, come on.”

Carmelita stood, holding her hand out. Cooper took it gently, delicately – imagining a nice satin glove over his fingers – maybe something purple, with a matching set of leggings, and thong? He managed to find that thought odd enough to interrupt it, but when he tried to figure out why it felt so wrong he came up with far less than he would have an hour or two ago. It still served to let the vixen help him stand, albeit awkwardly and requiring some grunting effort on her part.

“Time to take you to your new home for the duration of your community service Sly.”

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