Exposure - Stage 1 - More Than Skin Deep

Story by Corllengatu on SoFurry

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#1 of Exposure

"When a slightly 'flawed' super-soldier serum gets loosed on his peaceful suburban neighborhood, Kacey - a slightly geeky, and overwhelmingly average fox - and his spunky lynx girlfriend, Eve find themselves at the center of a rapidly expanding circle of fantastic sex, supernatural strength, and seedy government cover-ups."


Aaaaand as the last little piece of my 'rescue my files from a dying computer' ploy, I've been working overtime to finish this little gem. If all goes as planned, I'll be delivering more to you guys over the weekend - when I'm not busy hunting for a new writing machine, and hoping this one doesn't die. (Thank heavens for flash sticks.)

Who knows, may even get a chance to break in a new keyboard on this one. =P


Exposure

Corllengatu


Stage 1: More than Skin Deep


"I don't see why the administration needs to check up -"

"The government is merely protecting it's investments, Doctor Collins." Special Agent Smith watched the gibbering stoat out of the corner of her eye as he led the way down the concrete hallways that made up the underbelly of Sterling Biotetechnical. Up above, the seemingly small biotech firm made progress on noble pursuits funded by their public investors - cures for cancer or whatever it was that people thought was important. Down below, the facility sprawled over multiple city blocks - housing the majority of the firm's more lucrative projects away from the sensitive morals of the public eye. Smith's long black tail flicked in annoyance at the thought. The sort of limp-wristed approach to scientific development the public wanted would have left them all in the dark ages by now.

"Th-the projects aren't done," Collins stuttered, watching her expression with visible apprehension, "We're at least a year away from having a usable compound, and-"

"This project represents a /large/ investment on our part, Doctor. I want to see the test subjects you've been working with."

"Test subjects?" Collins nearly choked on the words.

"Gabriel Simmons." Smith produced a folder from under her arm. "Bengal tiger. Twenty two. Five-foot four, suffering from muscular dystrophy after an otherwise successful recovery from a traffic accident. No friends or family, but has been missing since-"

"Alright, alright," the stoat waved a hand, "I'd ask how you knew we took him for /this/ project, but I've decided I honestly don't want to know. He's in twelve."

Collins led the way down an adjoining hallway. The normally bare concrete walls here were lined with closed blast barriers painted in yellow and black stripes. Smith knew from experience that they could be raised to allow viewing into the chambers beyond - through very thick, bullet-proof glass, they were assured - to allow prospective investors to see their progress. Despite the doctor's clear apprehension, Smith's visit was more or less standard operating procedure.

"We're on the fourth strain of a retroviral delivery system," the stoat stopped by an unlabeled blast window and typed a quick sequence of numbers on the keypad, causing the painted shield to begin it's slow rise. "We've targeted musculoskeletal growth, muscular density, and increased aggression. We're working on improving blood-oxygen uptake for endurance, and adrenal improvements. We've also targeted mental acuity - hoping for ..."

Smith tuned out the Doctor's monotone check-listing as she caught sight of Gabriel. The tiger had changed significantly from the photos they had before his conscription into Sterling Biotech's 'employment'. His vital statistics should have read like a list on the lower-end of average, but whatever drug the doctors were pumping into him had left him with ... drastic changes in physiology.

The tiger in the showroom was close to seven feet tall and unclothed, his frame packed with lean, athletic muscle that rippled and shifted beneath his striped fur as he moved. He kneeled

in the center of the room - his back to the window, corded back muscle as big as a chest of drawers bulging as he worked at something Smith couldn't see. She caught glimpses of biceps larger than cantaloupe flexing as he drove himself in a frenzy. The concrete underneath him cracked from the combined weight of his form and sheer strength of his legs - long, feline claws digging for purchase and clawing furrows in the ground underneath. There did appear to be some odd deformity with the lower legs, though. Strange white-furred, spherical growths on the ...

Agent Smith's jaw dropped as the tiger shifted, revealing what he had been working so furiously on. As massive as the rest of his body had become, his malness had grown to an outlandishly large size. As big around as his impressively muscled forearm, his massive erection stretched up between chiseled pectorals, cresting just below his collarbone. What she had taken for deformities on his legs were instead a pair of head-sized testicles, resting heavily on the floor between muscled thighs. As she watched, they began to draw up - the tiger throwing his head back in a roar of pleasure as he came with explosive force - thick ropes of white colliding with the ceiling and splashing back down to run in rivulets towards a drain in the center of the room. As Smith watched the ... 'spectacle' seemed like the only word that fit the situation ... she realized the walls of the chamber were /covered/ in not quite dried tiger seed.

"There are a few ... unintended side effects," Collins nervously rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, "The increased size unfortunately seems to come with an exponential increase in both libido and um ... production rates."

"He can't fight like /that/." Smith gestured to the tiger as he rose to his feet - his now flaccid member completely overwhelming any attempts from his white-furred sheath to contain its chemically-enhanced length, hanging heavily down over his massive testicles - his legs bowed from the sheer mass of his knee-knocking package. "We're paying you to create better soldiers, not hyper-sexed freaks."

"Yes well, we're still in the early stages," Collins rushed to defend his work, "And the retroviral approach is showing more promise than any of our other divisions! Once we solve the contagion and exaggeration problems we'll have actual super-soldiers. Re-application and multiple controlled dosages! The kind of thing the genetic fields before us have only /dreamed/ of!"

"Contagion?!" Agent Smith gestured to the massive tiger in the other room - at the same moment that his monstrous erection began to rise back to attention, already leaking precum all across the floor. "You're telling me /that/ is contagious?"

"Fluid contact ..." the stoat refused to make eye contact, his voice cowed. "He's officially a class 4 biohazard."

"Scrap the project." She did the calculations in her head. Scrapping now would lose them the millions they'd invested in the early research and development costs, but it would separate her agency from this ... disaster waiting to happen.

"But-"

"Now. Dispose of the rest of the strain, and move that," she waved at the living cum cannon masquerading as a tiger, "To a secure facility where we can bury this before it gets out of hand."


Kasey picked himself up off the wet pavement, struggling to prop himself up on his hands and knees as the world spun around him. A strong chemical miasma filled his muzzle - stinging his nose and throat, and causing his eyes to tear up. His ears rang, his vision was blurred, and every part of his body felt like he had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. The fox coughed violently, his body trying to purge the strong, bitter taste out of his mouth before he could regain control of himself and take stock of the situation.

Turning his head set the world spinning again, and Kasey suddenly found himself falling sideways onto the pavement with a wet /thwock/ as he landed in a puddle of something half wet, and half slime - the splash sending another wave of pungent chemical cocktail up into the air. The new perspective granted Kasey his first look at his assailant: the side of a big-rig tanker. The huge metal cylinder lying splayed on its side across the sidewalk, a deep gouge in the metal leaking thick, clear fluid that fed into the spreading puddle the bedraggled fox was currently lying in.

Alarm bells began going off in the back of Kasey's mind. He had been almost crushed to death by a rogue semi-trailer. Best case scenario: he had a minor concussion, but he needed to get up and on his feet before he turned into a living chemistry set. Adrenaline and determination combined to somehow get the fox to his feet as the pavement seemed to tilt underneath his paws.

He fought off a mild wave of nausea as his center of balance seemed to re-align itself, and he became aware of a soft tingling sensation creeping across his soaked fur. A flashback to a video on hazardous materials from high school chemistry ran through his mind. He needed to wash down. Kasey shot a look at his house - less than a block away - then turned back to the crash scene. Nothing seemed to be on fire, and besides the leak, everything seemed to be okay with the truck. He knew he should stay and wait for the authorities to show up, but the way his skin was prickling ... burning really ...

The fox dashed off towards his house as quickly as he could manage in his condition, adrenaline keeping him on his feet as he moved. He threw open the door and sprinted to the downstairs bathroom, stripping down to his boxers. He flipped the shower on and stepped in in the same motion, gasping as the cold water flowed over him - and the strange burning sensation receded bit by bit - until all that was left was a light tingle.

Kasey stepped out of the shower, his body feeling suddenly heavy as the adrenaline drained from his system. He barely had the presence of mind to grab a couple of towels off of the rack on the wall, sidestepping his soaked clothing as he stepped out into the hall - exhaustion sweeping over him like a tide. He wrapped the towels around himself and made his way upstairs, collapsing onto his bed. He was wet, cold, and his skin was still tingling slightly, but he had survived. He was just getting his well-deserved rest.

Getting hit by a truck sure took it out of you ...


Kasey was pulled from a deep, dreamless sleep by the feeling of something landing bodily on his stomach. His eyes drifted open, and he groaned as sore muscles protested the extra weight. His gaze drifted down from the celing until he found himself staring up into a grinning feline face. "Up an' att'em, foxy boy. You're losin' daylight."

"Eve, you're sitting on my chest." Kasey smiled groggily back at the lynx as she leaned forward, giving him a rather spectacular view of the cream-colored fur on her pert, b-cup breasts - looking fantastic on her small frame. "And you're not wearing any clothes."

"/You/ didn't show up for class today." Eve shook a finger at him, playfully swatting his nose. The motion caused her chest to bounce, and Kasey's boxers began to feel tight as his mind fully registered that he had a hot, unclothed, firecracker in his bed. His hands finally found their way out of the blanket, sliding up the soft brown fur on her thighs to find purchase on her firm behind. "You're not normally so /naughty/." She leaned down further, using her forearms to prop herself up on his chest. "I'd /hate/ for this sort of thing to become a habit."

Kasey brought his muzzle to meet hers, sitting up so that Eve's shapely rear end slid back down to his waist - where the tightness in his underwear finally hit critical mass. The overtaxed elastic on his boxers snapped, freeing his erection to jut up against Eve's backside through the covers. She gasped as she suddenly found his unexpectedly massive maleness forcing its way up past her tail and prodding the small of her back.

Eve broke off the kiss, one hand on his chest, another holding the offending cock-flesh at bay - regarding it with a hungry gaze. She glanced back at where her hand rested against a set of chiseled pectorals outlined in the white fur on Kasey's chest. A distinctly feline smile crept across her muzzle as she patted the baffled fox and dismounted, tugging the sheet down around his waist, "Up! I want to get a look at you."

Kasey paused for a moment, staring in disbelief at the sheer size of his erection, tenting the bed-sheet. He was still dreaming - that was it. He had a concussion, and this was some weird sort of fever dream. His pulse pounded in his ears, and he could feel the heat in his maleness. If it felt this good just up against the bed-sheet ... how would it feel if he ...

"C'mon! Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?" the little lynx grabbed the crook of his arm, pulling him off of the bed, and placing him in front of the full-length mirror, inspecting him like a prized cattle - a predatory gleam in her eye. She leaned against him, pressing her chest against his lower back, both hands on his chest, purring audibly. "You're taller, too. Maybe four inches. That makes you, what six-two?"

Kasey didn't reply - he found himself staring at his reflection. He'd tried to bulk up before, but muscle just wasn't in the cards for most vulpines. Mother nature had done her work to keep him sleek, lean, and without a scrap of extraneous muscle. His reflection however, /bulged/. He had definition, he had mass. He was still lean, after a fashion, but he looked like a gymnast - one of the big cats that spent their whole life training for Olympic events. Eve's hands trailing over his chest and stomach found no give, no soft spots. He was /solid/ from head to toe.

And as much as his musculature had grown, his maleness outpaced the rest of him completely, nearly doubling in size. He could feel the weight of it between his legs, his erection standing proudly away from his body - at least a foot in length, and too thick to get a hand around. His balls were doing their best impressions of overripe oranges - resting heavily against his muscular inner thighs, and bouncing slightly with every small movement. The way he was hung now, he could make stallions go green with envy. His endowment had gone straight past 'porn star' into the realm of 'foxes just don't get that big'. To make matters worse, he seemed to be /incredibly/ sensitive - even slight movements in the air around him sent electric tingles of pleasure crawling up his spine.

Slowly, it was beginning to sink in - this wasn't some weird chemical-induced dream, it was actually happening. He'd been transformed, and it was real. He posed in front of the mirror, watching his body flex. He was powerful. He was sexual. He was sleek, and by gods he /bulged/ ... Which brought his attention back to his most prominent bulge, and the slender lynx fingers trailing their way down towards it.

"Oh don't stop posing on my account. I am /definitely/ enjoying the show." She slid around in front of him, dropping to her knees in front of his throbbing shaft - actually having to lean it down to meet her lips - both hands gripping the base, and barely meeting on the other side.

"I've always wanted to try this with one this big."

Less than a heartbeat later, Kasey was in heaven. Eve ran her tongue lightly across the tip of his shaft, and he was suddenly aware of how much more sensitive he'd become. Just that small stimulation was had cranked his pleasure up to eleven, and Eve was rewarded with a generous spurt of sticky precum. She spread it over the head of his pulsing cock - exploring more of his surface with her tongue, painting a roadmap of pure ecstasy wherever she went.

He felt like he was cumming already - one continuous, localized orgasm that followed Eve's tongue and free hand as they did laps of the sensitive flesh. Eve worked to control the massive monster with her right hand, while Kacey fought to stop his hips from bucking under the strain of so much pleasure. Still, his member twitched and spasmed, leaking precum like a faucet. It coated every inch of his enormous pole, coming away in thick, clear strands that stuck to her fingers whenever Eve moved her hand to get a better position - smoothing out the rough feline tongue, and coating her muzzle while she licked his cock like it was an enormous, incredibly lewd popsicle.

All this - the best blowjob Kacey had ever experienced by at least a factor of ten - and Eve hadn't managed to get more than an inch of flesh inside her mouth. Once her careful ministrations finally got them both properly lubricated, and she fit the head of his unwieldy member the first few inches inside her muzzle, Kacey lost any semblance of control he had. He felt his knees go weak from the sheer thrill of the sensation. His hand shot up to the back of her head, tangling itself in her sandy-brown hair. The primal instinct in control of his body wanted to force her in deeper - to bury his entire cock into her waiting maw - but his muscles weren't working properly anymore. His body was entirely occupied with trying to register this much pleasure.

Inch after inch disappeared into Eve's mouth - one hand working the exposed flesh, while the other reached down and massaged circles on one of Kacey's churning testicles. Inch after inch, until less than six inches of flesh remained outside, while Eve did her best to massage him with her tongue. She was giving him the deep-throating of a lifetime - she had to be to get that much of him inside her. /Gods/ but he was big. The thoughts rose and fell, ripped away in the tide of sensation he was experiencing as soon as they rose in his mind.

The hand on his shaft began to work faster and faster, her tongue somehow wrapping itself around his gargantuan pole as she sucked him the rest of the way to paradise. He could feel the need to come rising deep in his abdomen, like a rising flood - building and building and building. Each moment that passed became tortuous as his /need/ rose higher. He kept expecting the crescendo to come, but it just kept building - until he was gasping and pleading with the air to grant him release.

His balls drew up. More blood rushed into his maleness in anticipation. Every muscle in his body locked down tighter than steel cable. Orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, washing away his awareness of everything else. Eve tried to back off of his member as she felt the it coming, but between the sudden swell of his cock, and the vice-grip he had on the back of her head, she was forced to swallow, or be drowned in his cum.

Kacey had no idea how long his orgasm lasted. An instant could have stretched into eternity as he drowned in that euphoric deluge. He fought to remain conscious as he came like a fire hose, his cock firing blast after blast down his enthusiastic lover's throat. He lost count after two, and completely forgot what numbers were soon after that.

As the torrent subsided and the afterglow began to set in, Kacey collapsed backwards, freeing his softening cock from Eve's oral embrace. It flopped against his stomach as he landed hard on his ass, flinging fluids up over his abs and chest. He stared at it for a moment before his lynx lover flopped down onto his chest, practically panting in her efforts to catch her breath.

She was absolutely filthy - her muzzle coated with excess fox-cum, glossy pre matting the fur on her ... well ... everywhere - but she was grinning up at him with that same predatory hunger, "That was fucking fantastic, loverboy. I've got /tingles/."

Thoughts bubbled up past the haze of satisfaction covering Kacey's brain - causing a grin to creep across his face. Any other girl would have run screaming when presented with his new and 'improved' maleness. Eve had not only fucked his brains out, but by the looks of things, had deeply enjoyed every minute of it.

As soon as he could move again, he was going to return the favor ...


Smith stared at the perfectly innocuous-looking concrete on the road in front of her, holding a hand up to shield her eyes from the setting sun. It seemed this project was going to lose her yet more sleep. She'd had to pull strings to get the entire road blocked off as quickly and quietly as she could, and had gotten two containment teams and the only expert she knew.

Unfortunately.

"I'm telling you, it's not airborne." Doctor Collin reassured her in the calming tones of a scientist who thought you were assaulting his theories. "Containment arrived in less than ten minutes. The only risk here is the driver - who we'll have to quarantine, of course."

"He works for your company. No one will miss him." She glared at the stoat, who had the audacity not to notice her threat. "Throw him in a secure facility with the tiger, and I won't have to hear about how this ridiculous screw up could have gotten any worse."

"Um. Seperate cells would be advisable." Collins flinched as soon as he made the comment, like he expected Smith to hit him. She realized her hackles were up, and worked to calm herself, smoothing her suit as the doctor continued. "We didn't get far enough in development to fully eliminate the ... well, let's just say there's some chance for ... cross contamination?"

"Wonderful. And we're sure there's no way anyone else was exposed?" Smith pinched the bridge of her nose. She was going to go home, have a nice soothing cup of tea - chamomile preferably - and have a go at the 'pretend my career isn't going tits up' game.

"We responded too quickly, and we've been here all day. Unless you think someone was at the scene of the accident, decided to have a roll around in an unknown chemical, and scarpered before so much as reporting anything."

The stoat quit laughing when he noticed the blatantly murderous look in Smith's eyes.