A Wrenzephyr2 -verse TF
(Woman to Skunk)



“What do you mean, 'loose’?” The director of the C.D.C. asked. “It's a virus, it's not an animal.”

“Well, technically…” A nearby doctor nodded towards the images of a lab overrun with animals.

“Quiet.” The director snapped back to the woman, massaging his temples. “We need to tell the public about this, inform before we control. Maybe we'll be able to keep the damage to a minimum.”

Said minimum still looked like most of a city: stores, homes, and a park which currently occupied a witch no more capable of understanding the fate that was about to befall her than the director could fathom her magic...

“Non, non, you need to lift your arms. Lift!” Francesca cooed, smiling as the rebellious redhead obeyed her. It was a far cry from the attitude she'd demonstrated when they first bumped into another along the park trail.

“I told you, stop!” The young woman snarled, even as she shrank a foot in height, her features softening with youth. Her jeans loosened on her body, lightening as they became a fluffy tutu.

It didn't escape the girl's attention, and she yelped in surprise. “N-no! Meanie, you can't bully me like this! You're being so mean!” Her words were a good deal more innocent than the tirade of four-letter words the redhead had greeted Francesca with, and they were going to regress further by the time Francesca was done with her.

A serene smile graced the instructor's lips as she watched the girl's red hair lengthen to her shoulders. The girl's mind was changing already, which was good. Soon, Francesca would have a new student for her ballet school, and the world have one less rebel. There was a balance to it all, a neatness that suited her just fine.

An absent thought graced the dark-haired woman’s mind, and she tutted. “I forgot to ask your name, didn't I, dear? You'll need to tell me so I can properly enroll you in my class.”

The girl crinkled her nose, sniffling as she whimpered. “I wan’ my mommy…” She wiped at her eyes, beginning to cry as she regressed further, her age dropping from double digits to singles. “Mommyyymaa!”

Perhaps Francesca had been a little too aggressive.

The dance instructor sighed, slowing the girl's descent and turning to the girl’s companion. Once the same age as the redhead, the silver-haired girl was now a buxom woman on the far side of her forties-not that it was readily apparent. Makeup and charisma did wonders for a cougar on the prowl.

A wave from Francesca unfroze the woman's mind, and she blinked, a hand resting on her wide hips. “Samantha!” She gasped, taking her former companion, current daughter’s hand. “Don't make a scene!”

Francesca laughed at a joke that neither of them would understand. “Non, it is my fault. I forgot that I was dealing with such a young girl.” She knelt to the redhead, patting her hair. “I am very sorry, little Samantha. I hope this won't keep you from attending class this weekend.”

“Let's hope not! I have a date with a footballer, assuming he passes this exams.” The mother answered for her new daughter.

“Oh? Which college does he attend?” Francesca asked politely, motioning for the couple to carry on their way.

“College?” The mother replied, a twinkle in her eyes. She winked conspiratorially before pulling her daughter behind herself down the park trail.

Francesca's face fell slightly at that. Perhaps she should correct that new mother's mind. She hadn’t anticipated her to be so… Lewd.

Before she could act on her thoughts, the bushes to her left rustled and a small black-and-white furred animal emerged from the brush.

Francesca blinked in surprise; then again in shock as she realized what it was. “Skunk!” She squeaked, just in time for it to lift its tail and douse her in a healthy dose of its spray.

Her eyes burned, and she wiped at them with a mewl of distress, clumsily wobbling away from the creature. She could see through her tears that she’d scared it off-for what little good it did her now.

What was supposed to work against skunk spray? Tomato juice? She had some tomatoes she was going to use for a salad… Maybe one of those would work? The dance instructor cursed as she managed to clear her vision, blushing as she realized the distinctly unladylike word she’d just uttered.

“I hope nobody heard…” She muttered, glancing to either side. Then the shock passed and the stink hit her again, and the woman remembered that there were matters far more pressing than modesty.

Little did she know that the skunk’s spray was having a much larger effect on her than a simple case of malodor. Her nose was darkening, and her face was beginning to reshape slightly. Her cheeks were puffing up, and a thin cleft was developing between her upper lip and nose.

Of course, without the use of a mirror, the woman didn’t notice them in the slightest. Instead, she merely crinkled her changing nose, wiping at it with a hand on her way back to her home. It did feel more damp than usual; but she made that out to be a consequence of the spray.

The subsequent itching of her skin; however, was something that warranted inspection. Francesca froze as she caught sight of countless dark hairs covering her arms like a shadow, and her mind raced.

There could be any number of causes, but she knew the result would be all the same: she would become an animal. And judging how the stink about herself was beginning to bother her less and less, there could only be one animal in her future.

She desperately clutched at her necklace, pulling it from her neck, intending to use it to keep her body her own. It was a long shot, but since she had the power to regress others from aging, perhaps she could use it to keep her own form from devolivng any further?

It took her almost a minute to get it down, a minute that covered her body from head to toe in bushy black fur complete with a white stripe along her back. Her face stretched out slightly as well, giving her the ability to see her own changed nose without so much as needing to cross her eyes. Worst of all, it left her with a tail: a thickly furred, heavy thing that constantly swayed behind herself.

“I look like some kind of furry…” Franchesca whimpered, smiling to herself a second later as she realized it wasn’t that bad. “Then again, I suppose that means I’ll only attract a few stares, rather than the inordinate amount I’d receive if I didn’t have the fur…”

She pictured what she’d look like without it and had to suppress a shiver. Yes, this was much better-though it still was completely opposite her ideal form. The thick tail was upsetting her immaculate natural balance, and… Why didn’t she smell anymore?

Francesca shuddered as she realized the skunk’s stink didn’t bother her at all-that she was even beginning to enjoy it. It was enough to make her crinkle her darkened nose again. Such a thing was most inappropriate, especially for a woman as graceful as her.

Even if she was a little less than graceful right now… Her cheeks burned beneath their midnight fur as she wobbled once more, fumbling another step. The preposterously bushy tail behind herself was damning her to walk like a newborn!

She sent it a baleful glare to find it had shifted to allow her to keep her balance. If it had done that, perhaps her loss of balance stemmed from something else? Had her feet changed?

The woman looked down to her shoes with a frown, and in doing so completely failed to notice the oncoming cyclist. Like many of his kind, he didn’t bother to slow down, instead clipping her shoulder with a loud “Sorry!”

She wobbled, arms shooting out to her sides in an attempt to straighten herself out. Were she in her normal state, she’d have spun with the blow easily, but with this tail and her clumsy feet… Her cheeks burned with the humiliation of it all, and her emerald eyes blazed.

Francesca looked to the man’s back angrily, and she lifted her medallion towards him. In that moment, she realized two things: first and foremost, her hand was empty. Second, her hand was beginning to lost its resemblance to anything human.

“No, no, no!” The dark-haired woman yelped, watching as her fingers stiffened into claws, lush pads blossoming from her palms. They were soft, velvety, thick, and far, far too clumsy to hold her necklace, which evidently had been knocked from her grasp.

She desperately looked along the ground for her pendant, but her eyes never met with its familiar shine. Instead, they found only grass and pavement, grass and pavement that rapidly rushed towards her face.

Her palms slapped against the brown and the increasingly skunky woman blinked in confusion. What had happened? It took her a few moments to realize that she had fallen, so long had it been since she’d last lost her balance.

And now… She tried in vain to rise to two legs, a squeaked wail of distress passing her lips as she realized that she could no longer stand, let alone dance.

Francesca had lived to dance for so long; had changed others into dancers for this very reason… And now she would become a clumsy animal? The thought was worse to her than death, and she struggled to make her dwindling form obey the commands of her mind.

Then a sharp pinch claimed her sex, and she squeaked. “Wh-irrr-ut’s going on now?” She hiccuped, a faint chitter slipping into her words.

She paid that no heed, too preoccupied by the sharp sensation in her pussy. It was like there were two needles being forced into her skin… No, under it-like acne forcing its way to the surface. It ached madly, and she let her proto-snout fall against the grass, using her hands to feel behind herself instead of supporting her form.

The second they met her lushly furred bottom, the pain drew to a climax, and there was a faint popping sound echoed a second later by a hissing. It sounded like someone had poked holes into a pressurized container, and a second later she was greeted by a wetness along her legless unitard.

For a moment, she thought that she’d wet herself, and her face blanched. Then she realized it was much, much worse. There was a distinct smell in the air now, something like that of the animal that had sprayed her.

“Scent glands… Rrr-irrrt!” She chittered, squirming as pressure built within them again. This time her musk shot easily through her new glands, soaking her loose leggings. A cloud of her new scent surrounded her, and she struggled to run, tripping over her oversized clothes.

She was shrinking, she knew she was shrinking, but there were so many worse things happening to her right now. Honestly, the diminishment was welcome-it meant that she might shrink so small that nobody would notice her and see the graceful woman laid so low.

And, indeed, she was small enough that the average human wouldn’t see her. Unfortunately, this also left her the perfect size to be seen by a skunk, and a familiar striped head poked its head from the bush.

Her growing ears heard its squeak, and she looked over her shoulder to see it approaching her, nipping at her blankets of clothing. The dancer blanched and tried to run with her clumsy body, but she was so damnably unused to it.

She barely made it three steps before the animal had her clothes off, pressing its weight against her. Its intentions were as clear as its exposed malehood, and she opened her muzzle to scream at it, to get it to run away once more.

It entered her before she could muster her breath, and she found her words stolen by a pleasured squeak.

Francesca was no stranger to intimate company, she found it happening quite often thanks to her profession. Though strangely enough, none of her memories of such company even compared to this.

A squeak of ecstasy slipped out from her muzzle, and her eyes glazed slightly. “Srrt-sorrit good!” She groaned, losing her speech just as she was losing her intelligence. It was being literally fucked from her head by the mustelid atop her, and she loved it.

“Harrrit… Harrrdeerrrittt…” She rolled her hips back against its-against his, and she lost herself to pleasure. It was so simple to sink, to forget the life of a dextrous dancer and instead embrace the eternity that was a stinky skunk.

A fragment of her mind, just a fragment, tried to rebel. Then it was greeted by the same pleasure, and was forever silenced. The world erupted into stars around her, and she rode her mate’s every thrust, her skunk’s body basking in the carnal pleasure reserved for only animals.

Mate… Hers… She needed him, needed him inside her, needed him to cum inside. She needed to be pleasured, to be bred, to breed litter after litter after litter...

Completely and utterly lost, the skunk climaxed, squealing insensately. She couldn’t speak if she wanted to; much less remember her own name.

The two skunks followed this first romp with another; then another. The sounds of other animals began to echo their own, but they paid them no heed. The only thing that mattered in this park was each other.

In a distant facility, a red infection zone crept across the park, encroaching ever-closer towards the city...