Vault72
patreon
Story: Star Fox 63 Adventures
🕑 Added 2021-11-30 00:44:47 +0000 UTCPremise: Poor Fox McCloud has crashed through a wormhole, as you do, and is forced to await rescue surviving off the land. However, it doesn't take long for the planet's pink atmosphere to start having odd effects on his body. Maybe the locals can help shed some light on this predicament.
Contains: Male to female gender bending. Hyper breasts and hips. MILFs. Stuck.
For Gabe
---
An annoyed kick against the Arwing’s haul did nothing to repair its burning structure, but it did send a surge of pain up an already bruised leg. You would think that after saving the damn galaxy three times, maybe four, mercenary work would become an easy gig. By comparison, answering a spontaneous distress call felt like a typical milk run. One just had to go in, pick up some people, shoot some others maybe, and bask in heaps of gratitude and money.
The ambush might have been a slight deviation to the routine. So what? Star Fox had faced death in the face and laughed, at least on the third instance. The first two had still been frightening enough that the crew needed to change their pants afterwards. By now, Fox McCloud needed a lot more than remote piloted drones to get scared. His crew could handle the fodder while he did the whole rescue alone.
The thermal detonation of the distressed freighters reactor? Now that was just cheating. Fox had barely time to land on the ship before it started exploding, with none to make it out of the minimum blast radius. One uncalculated leap through an accidental wormhole later left the dashing rouges Arwing crashing on a jungle planet in the who-knows-where sector of the galaxy. All the gear that could have told him such important information was still on fire, along with the means of contacting help. There was only solace in the fact no one else got sucked through with him, or worse exploded with that trapped ship.
At least the black box survived the crash. Its distress beacon was only good for maybe a little outside the system Fox got flung into, but any hope felt better than none. Even better was his ability to get out the emergency supply kits before they went up in smoke. Now he had the basics of roughing it; tents, tools, rations, and enough water filters to survive for years. Unless this planet had some giant dinosaurs, this would not be the worst adventure in Fox’s life.
For one thing, he had a blaster this time.
Once it was clear the crash fire would not be spreading to the surrounding jungle seeking shelter became the next priority. Fox slung the giant duffle bag of gear over his back and got to hiking. There were some soft hill peeks jutting out of the treelines to the west, making that the best option. High ground was always great especially still in sight of the crash sight. With any luck, some advanced society might be in this system and already on route to investigate. Hell, after this day, Fox would be happy just to find a cave or something to make camp in.
Perhaps it was recognizing the jungle heat that made Fox look up, perplexed. This system had a pink sun. Either that or something about the planet’s atmosphere made it look pink. It did not seem to hinder the environment any. As Fox walked along, his pointed ears danced, trying to keep up with the symphony of sounds around him. There were the expected birds, bugs, and frog croaks, but also roars and growls not as far off into the distance as an anthropomorphic man would like.
Oh well, the unknown kept things exciting. Not that any of the wildlife making noise decided to show up and introduce themselves. That was also just fine. Surviving a spaceship crash rarely leaves a sane person itching for a fight.
Fox felt a great relief to reach the hills to find a rather nice alcove directly facing his ship. Nothing like a little weather protection to go along with your camp. The rest of the day was spent setting up the tent before getting a can of hash cooked over a small fire. Any thought of building a signal flame was thrown out when a series of hungry yelps passed by the base of a hill, along with a rather violent disturbing of branches. Fox might as well wash his tail in barbecue sauce for whatever prowled the nights here.
With how cold the air got late at night, there was some small regret at choosing safety first. Even in his full flight suit and bedroll Fox was amazed to wake up at dawn with ice on his breath. He quickly worked on a fire to brew up some coffee for much needed warmth. Taking a steaming cup of bitter caffeine in one hand, Fox hiked up the rest of the hill for a morning view of the land. Some smoothed out animal paths were worth noting that wildlife frequented this area.
“Ow! Ow! Mother frigging butt humper!” Perhaps stretching before a small hike would have also been a good idea. Fox staggered to keep his balance, filling the tranquil atmosphere with sophisticated curses. A sharp tension in his hips was making them difficult to walk normally, which resulted in a large portion of hot coffee splashing over his unexpectedly sensitive chest.
Forgetting how the heck clothes were going to be washed, reaching the hilltop proved worth the effort. That strange pink sun slowly climbed over the horizon, washing Fox with a soothing warmth. It elicited soft moan from his muzzle as one hand absently adjusted the waistband of his pants. They were getting a bit tight, but not enough to distract from taking in the scenery over sips of remaining coffee. Light played off almost everything for a rather colorful palette of purples and orange. Something was definitely up about this planet or its sun, but it did not seem to affect the indigenous life.
Speaking of which, the jungle was taking its time waking up. Pointed vulpine ears barely picked up a fraction of yesterday’s ruckus, which was rather welcomed. Fox spotted a lake not too far east and wanted to get there before breakfast finished their morning drinks.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Frigging bull steaming hell hole!”
How could the hike down become harder than the trip up? Not only had Fox’s hips gotten worse, but the tension had spread to his lower back. It forced his posture to walk in smaller steps with bushy tail bumping stiffly back and forth. First thought was that he must have suffered some kind of unnoticeable injury in the crash that was now trying to heal. Of course, any medical equipment to check was already charred black. All he could do was pop some aspirin, grab a blaster, and hope things improved by lunchtime.
‘Improving’ would be a subjective term for Fox’s ongoing ordeal. Trying to take a walk through the jungle got increasingly awkward the higher the sun rose. With pink rays illuminating against his back, the pressure continued to mount inside his pelvis. Hands occasionally scratched at his chest, which itched like crazy under his shirt. That coffee must have been hotter than it felt. There were some really firm boils pushing back against his fingers.
CRRCK!
“Aah!?” It was when Fox had to struggle over some fallen logs that things hit a limit. While trying to stretch a leg out to touch down on the other side, there came a sharp snap in the anthro’s joints, which promptly relieved all the tension. That had to have meant he finally broken his lower body, but finishing the climb over he found both legs could stand perfectly fine again.
Fox resumed the walk and promptly realized functionality was not the same as normality. Something had completely knocked his hips out of place, making them rock side to side with more fluid tail wags. Worse was that Fox’s stance had changed so his knees bent inwards and ground his thighs together. That made him have to stop every so often to work out the wedgie it dug into unintentionally bouncing rear.
On the bright side, no pain meant faster movement. Such an odd injury did nothing to slow Fox down once he got used to the shifting balance. Reaching the lake was hardly a problem, while sneaking downwind barely needing effort. Strange to suffer a crash and come out more agile from it.
Basic survival training had not let the confused vulpes down either. Several animals had already started gathering around for their morning drinks. Some deers had failed to notice his approach, probably more concerned with the fluffy feline things across the way. The thrill of a hunt made Fox forget about his hip condition, but by the time anything heard his butt disturbing some branches he had already lined the shot. A single blaster bolt exploded from the underbrush, sending all but one deer fleeing in panic.
“Humming rubble fuggin blasted bumble!” Fox was running out of ‘child friendly’ swears after only being on this planet for less than a day. In his defense, trying to haul the deer carcass back to his camp proved to be a strenuous adventure all on its own. The weight on both shoulders nearly got him crushed, while his arms cried out for mercy after only dragging it a few dozen meters.
So much for getting breakfast. Fox slumped onto a tree stump scarcely out of the lake’s view, but covered in sweat and gasping for breath. The sun was already reaching the highest point in the sky, making lunch a tantalizing goal soon. Once his lungs stopped heaving, he took the opportunity for a swig from his water canteen before wiping the perspiration from his face with a jumpsuit sleeve.
“Umm…” Fox looked at the sleeve, blinking slowly. The cuff hung gaping around his limp wrist threatening to swallow up the attached hand. Now that it had his attention, the whole outfit was feeling loose on his body. The only exception was around his butt and chest, which pushed out the fabric in odd ways. He pulled back the sleeve and gave a hard flex. Once modest bicep muscles had lost much of their bulging splendor. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Now there was no denying this planet had some weird property to it. That or Fox was still in his Arwing, suffering the mother of all coma dreams. Not that either outcome eased his concerns any. All he could do for the moment was hop back to his feet, christ even his boots felt loose, and haul the deer back to camp.
Such an act still took a while, but harsh denial spurred Fox on. Eventually, he got a shank cooking over a fresh fire. Scrounging up some good chow was worth a surge of accomplishment over all these mutations.
Such positive feelings lingered until he realized the camp’s water supply was nonexistent. Much as Fox did not want to, he picked up all the pots and bottles he could carry for a trek back. On the bright side, so many trips were making it easy to acclimate to his forced walking style. If anything, rediscovering his center of balance made each foot step considerably lighter.
Perspiration, on the other hand, was no less a problem. Fox returned to the lake and immediately filtered several long drinks of water, some for wetting his throat and the rest for drenching the salty sweat from his facial fur. Once the senses cooled down, his black nose twitch and then cringed. Whatever that deer creature had been rolling in had passed onto Fox’s clothes as its parting gift.
A wash up sounded like a great idea anyway. This was a fine water source with some smooth rock beds nearby. With any luck, he could scrub the coffee stain out of his only available shirt, too. The damn boils that morning’s spill had caused were swelling alarmingly huge. When Fox tried to pull his shirt off the tight hem caught against them. It took a few hard tugs before he could finally get them to pop out. And yet they did not break, only falling slightly with a gentle weight pulling on the vulpine’s chest.
Probably because they were far from simple boils.
“Um…” Fox finished removing his shirt staring dumbfounded at the rise of his creamy furred chest. The way his white fluff curved out into a pair of soft sacks made little sense at first. Their stretched skin had been filled with an ample amount of pliable fats that left a partially rounded shape to rival cantaloupes. All the stretching must have really made the skin tender. Being exposed to gentle breezes caused Fox to shiver with goosebumps, especially with his bright pink nipples swollen larger them his thumbs.
Realization crushed Fox’s denial with the force of a meteor. The widening hips, the tight pants, and now these chest sandbags brought back a haunting familiarity with a special vixen back on his flagship. Granted, all three traits looked a lot more amplified on him than her. A fact that did nothing to ease Fox’s rising heartbeat.
The stained shirt was dropped onto the ground completely forgotten. In his daze, Fox moved shaking hands up for the mounds. Their flesh wiggled violently with the hard heaves of his lungs giving his slender fingertips pause. There was a great reluctance, yet need, to touch them. Physical contact was the only way to confirm if any of these bizarre altercations were real. That by some strange occurrence, he was changing to resemble a woman.
Fox’s ears sprung straight up at a sudden thought, his hands stopping inches from his full breasts. For a few seconds it seemed like he had turned into a statue, but then in a burst of energy his hands shifted direction. Fingers shot down under what little slack remained in his pants to carefully take stock of his groin.
His scream cut through the lake, sending flocks of birds scattering in a panic from nearby trees. While Fox’s arguably two most important bits were there, it was hardly with a presence that would inspire pride. In fact, he could feel them continuing to shrink away from his palms. Only the sound of his pant seams straining could be heard over the silence of the lake. His hips gained a bit more thickness in preparation for a different biological purpose.
Like hell that was going to happen. Fox turned to bolt through the forest, disregarding the water and even his shirt. The latter of which he regretted after about ten paces. Gravity taught him the hard way that it does not like huge tits. Without a brace, they bounced and flapped any which way threatening to send Fox splatting onto the muddy forest floor. Trying to hold them down with his feminine hands did little to help. That only alerted him to the fact these gazongas were suffering an even worse growth spurt than his hips. Skin continued to shift and push against his fingers with each passing second, inflating from cantaloupes to basketballs.
“Son of a blasted sharpclaw, fuck!”
The rest of Fox’s stature by contrast seemed to be fine with getting overly smaller. Pant legs became more clumped and loose nearly tripping him every time the cuffs slipped across his dainty feet. He also was not fond of how higher pitched his voice became with almost every curse uttered. There had to be something at his camp that could halt these changes before all traces of masculinity vanished. Maybe he had missed an environmental suit, or some toxin flushers in the medical box.
“Oh…” Fox had been so angry and flustered about his increasingly jiggling curves he failed to notice some new additions to his camp until only coming within meters of it. “Um... hello?”
“Hi!” A silver-haired horse woman jumped to her hooves with a happy wave. Fox could only watch helplessly as the coffee maker she had been admiring slipped from her grasp. The objectively most important item at the camp was left forgotten to shatter among the rocks while she clopped on over to stand before him. Her long thick nose dipped so glittering blue eyes could take in Fox’s thick body. “Good to see you’re still alive, and coming along rather nicely, I must say. The shamaness is going to find you really sexy.”
“What…”
Fox had been mourning the loss of his coffee maker, so her words took a moment to reach him. When they did, he found it hard to take eyes off any of the women. Two more were with the horse, a pigeon and a sheep, but they were taking it upon themselves to carve up the deer carcass into more manageable pieces.
Any hopes they might have been some kind of rescue were dashed for two reasons. First being that they were all wearing primitive tribal coverings; loincloths, sandals, some form of poncho were all made from hemp or animal skins. Markings of red and yellow colors were painted into the exposed areas of their fur. Even the tools used to cut the meat were crudely forged irons. Definitely not a sign of intergalactic travelers.
The second part, which drove a spike into Fox’s gut, was all three had no hope of covering the enormous breasts swinging with their steps. While he had been panicking about his bust inching towards the roundness of beach balls, all three women dominated him with sloshing beanbags. Their torsos were practically hidden behind thick blankets of furry, or feathery, mammaries that proudly presented areolas wider than car wheels for the stunned vulpine to take in.
A bubbly giggle from the horse snapped Fox’s attention back up to her adorable star eyes. “You can call me Seno. We saw you crash, but it took a while to cut a path through the jungle. Allow me to welcome you to Bribez; planet of amazons and milk, as we like to call it.”
“I’m... I’m Fox," he sputtered after a sudden cough shifted his tone another notch higher. Ears folded back at how angelic it made his words sound. That was far from a top concern as his hand gestured between their respective busts. “And I hate to ask, but is this.. uh... normal?”
“Hm? Oh! The swelling? Afraid so. You catch on real quick, Fox. Reminds me of when Roxie ended up here as a man. Remember that, Roxie?”
The sheep glanced at Seno, flipped her the bird, and resumed stuffing the deer meats into a hemp sack.
“She doesn’t mind the fifty-pound tits, but don’t you dare make fun of her thick lamb chops. You know what I’m saying?” Seno gave Fox a playful elbow nudge but got no response. Her new visitor merely rocked back and forth to the shifting weights of her smaller boobs. “Ah, we got a broken one, girls. Better than a freak out, I guess.”
Come to think of it, all the girls had pretty smoking hot bodies Fox would have gone for on a Friday Night bar run. It was almost a shame their chests literally blocked most of that aspect. That and he was trying, and failing, to reassure himself that his own stretching, swelling, wobbling body was now slowly joining their ranks. It was only when Seno placed a comforting hand on his shoulder that the intense mental turmoil cleared from his mind.
“Come on, new girl. We’ll help carry your stuff to the village. You definitely don’t want to be camping up here forever.”
“I’m not a girl,” Fox growled, swatting the hand away. The fact his outburst was spoken in a clearly female voice did not help his case.
“We’ll see how long that lasts, Foxy.” chuckled the pigeon. While Seno had just smiled in understanding, her companions got a good laugh out of Fox’s protest.
They were still quick to gather up what little equipment Fox had for a hike down the hillside. Seno had not exaggerated about carving a path through the dense jungle. Her efforts with a sword made walking through feel like some casual nature stroll.
For Fox it might as well been a death march. The others became really excited to find a new member for their tribe. Conversation kept up a very light-hearted tone with every effort to include their new member. All he could give them were whines and groans of distress back. Any attempts to catch a deep breath for conversation just reminded him how progressively heavier his boobs were getting.
The real hell for Fox was how an involuntary spasm rocked his growth rate every so often. Bit by bit, the last vestiges of manhood sunk into a hallowing space inside his pelvis. He worried it would vanish entirely the second he stopped thinking about it.
“And here we are!”
Seno’s cheerful declaration drew Fox’s attention towards the sight rising out of the jungle before him. Trees cleared away into a spacious village lit up by a mix of electric and torch lights. Palisades stretched around the borders dotted by the occasional watch tower. Many of the wooden huts constructed inside rose to impressive heights, sometimes with three or four floors to them.
Walking past the front gates was like walking through another wormhole. One guard gave him a friendly smile while leaning on a wooden spear, while the other was too busy adjusting settings on a laser rifle to notice their arrival. Somehow, these tribes had integrated modern technology with primitive means. There was just something surreal about seeing someone cooking stew over a fire next to someone using a power stove.
Growing a pair of impossibly large boobs must have desensitized Fox to the concept somewhat. He found the village structures way more surprising than seeing nearly every resident sporting more mammary than body mass. Only exception was the flocks of children popping their heads out to get a glimpse of the ‘visitor’ walking through the main roads. Even the teenagers looked flat as a board under their ponchos, but still had some budding girlish looks.
The fact everyone in the village was an incredibly stacked female was certainly not lost to Fox. While Seno lead him from one block of huts to another, he could not sense a single drop of testosterone in the air. Another twitch in his groin implied his arrival would not change that anytime soon. The blushing fox could barely feel them anymore.
“Ah, here we are.”
“Oh?” Fox blinked as they arrived at their apparent destination; a hut small enough to be considered an outhouse. He would have almost missed it squished between the two story communal houses.
“The shamen will help set you up to live with us now. We’ll leave your possessions out here.”
Fox squeaked out some whines that might have resembled a thank you. He barely paid Seno and her friend’s departure any mind while the mare’s words froze him to the core.
‘To live with them.’
There was going to be no help getting off world. He was stranded on a planet full of amazon milk factories waiting for rescue to probably find him. Even if Fox’s crew managed that, their captain would be impossibly huge breasted and wide hipped as anyone else in this village by then. Fitting into an Arwing would be a miracle with those kinds of curves.
“Ugh!” Fox shook his head, trying to clear out all the ‘might be’ thoughts. At least his hair was not growing ridiculously wild like the rest of his body. Although his muzzle was feeling a bit shorter and fuller around the cheeks.
Another shake of the head gave Fox enough courage to ascend the few steps of the shaman’s hut. This was far from the end. He ripped back the cloth curtain and entered determined there must be some way to correct these changes.
A string of angry grumbles seeped from Krystal's muzzle while she tried keeping her Arwing steady. It had been some time since she had to make planet fall through such a dense atmosphere. The damn gases were giving the blue fox enough turbulence to send her head over heels into a mountain if she lost control. Luckily, she had a boyfriend like Fox to teach a thing or two about handling rough cosmic disturbances. When he was not trying to show off, anyway.
Hopefully, the poor boy was not reduced to eating his shoe leather by now. Krystal did not need her psychic abilities to learn Fox did not handle isolation well.
“Whoa!”
There came a sharp kick before all turbulence stopped. Now free of the rocky atmosphere, Krystal could get her ship leveled out before taking in the pink tinting the landscape. All the jungle and mountains brought back memories of the dinosaur planet Saria. Here was hoping this place did not also accommodate a population of giant carnivorous.
Pretty scenery could come later. Krystal pushed down her anxiety to focus on the rescue mission.
“R-6 to Great Fox. I’m got on the planet safely. You reading this, Slippy?”
The young frog clicked onto the small dashboard screen, looking as amazed as Krystal felt. “You bet I am. These energy readings are going crazy. I’ve never seen anything like it?”
“Which energy readings? The planet or the sun?” Krystal glanced up at the distant ball of pink energy slowly crossing the sky.
“Both!” Slippy laughed. “Something about the atmosphere is magnifying energy from the sun.”
Krystal’s ears folded back while scanning her ship’s readouts. Slippy seemed to notice this with another joyous laugh.
“Not to worry. If these things were lethal, we probably wouldn’t be talking right now. If anything, they seem to stimulate a lot of growth in the plant life.”
“Hopefully Fox hasn’t gone vegan by now.” A button lit up, which Krystal quickly pressed. “I picked up his black box. We should be back for dinner.”
“See you soon then!”
Slippy’s image flickered before cutting the com screen to black. Krystal refocused her attention on plotting around some mountain peaks for a closer ground view. It was hard to shake the feeling something was off during the initial pass. The signal coming from Fox’s downed fighter was weak to the point she was barely picking it up a few dozen kilometers away. State-of-the-art military ships like these came with distress beacons that could project out of a whole system for months on battery power.
Things got even more confusing when she eventually found the crashed aircraft around the third, most meticulous, pass. Krystal could barely spot the thing with it covered in camouflage. She managed to park on the ridge and hike down only to find it was no constructed mess of foliage. The whole craft had been overcome by the onset of nature. Metal parts were falling to pieces from ages of rust brought on by the elements.
Krystal could barely wrap her head around how the craft looked abandoned for years. Nothing about that made sense. At least a quick check of the storage bins and emergency gear found them all missing. No trace of remains meant Fox had to be kicking somewhere, hopefully.
SNAP!
“AH!” Krystal had been so muddled by her thoughts the sudden twig snapping whipped her into a panic. The space vixen whirled on her heels intending to shout a warning, but that plan went awry thanks to having a hair trigger blaster. A yellow stun beam fired off in a random direction through the dense shrubs.
“OW! Son of a bitch!!”
It was a horrifying surprise to realize someone had been hit, to say nothing of when a green blast shot back through the leaves. There came a blinding flash of light and next thing Krystal knew was that she was on a bed inside someone’s house made of wood and palm leaf. She slowly gathered the energy to prop on both elbows, finding a dull pain in her head and shoulder. The latter part had her shirt removed, so an area of singed fur could be bandaged up. Of course, it was her luck to hit someone with a stronger stun beam.
At least she hoped it had been set for stun. Catching sight of her flight suit hanging off a chair with a hole burnt through the fabric was not encouraging.
“Hi, lady!”
Krystal blinked, moving her gaze to one side. Sitting alongside the bed was a kit no older than six eagerly watching her every move. Under normal circumstances, she would have found the grass skirt and long white hair adorable, but there was something familiar about those copper fur patterns.
“H-hi, sweetie. Are you the one taking care of me?”
“Nope! Mom’s been fussing over you for hours now. I’m just watching in case you wake up while she does laundry.”
“Oh.” Krystal fought through her shoulder pain to push into a sitting position. A few awkward tugs on her bra and panties helped loosen them up a bit, if only a little. “Well, I guess I’m awake now. Where am I?”
“The village, silly. Where else can we go?” Before Krystal could react, the little girl turned towards an open doorway to scream, “Mom! Your girlfriend is awake now!”
“Wait…” Krystal tried to say, but the kid had already hopped off her stole to exit the room.
Not a minute later, an adult version of them came rushing through the doorway. Well, waddling to the best of their ability would be a more accurate description. Krystal’s jaw dropped trying to take in a vixen with anatomy thicker than she thought possible for their mutual species.
The copper vixen’s hips alone had to be almost three meters wide and stuffed with excessive fat. She had to enter the room sideways after all, forcing a lot of her softer parts to squish around the door frame. Such swell of an enormous fuzzy butt continued down to thighs bulging so dense they forced her to walk in a wide stance as they rubbed together. And yet that couch of a bottom managed to be covered modestly in a hemp woven loincloth.
“Krystal!? Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you're okay! Heck, I can’t believe you finally found me?”
“Wha-EEP!” Krystal’s ears bent with her raised eyebrow. Something about the mother vixens tone rang that familiarity bell again. Unfortunately, she had no time to process it before getting hugged face first into the softest pair of tits imaginable. They were like trash bags full of tiny foam beads; light and rolling their fluffy mass to engulf the blue vixen’s head. Her tail went stiff, noticing that she could even hear the milk sloshing inside them.
Some frantic slaps on her middle eventually got the copper mother to loosen her embrace. Krystal reeled her head back for a deep breath, only to realize the firm orb of stretched fur her hands were batting against. As if not wanting to outdo the huge breasts, the other vixen displayed her naked belly out in all its bulging, round glory. Several decorative lines were painted on the creamy white fur, directing attention to the outie belly button. Just to confirm what was obvious, a bump in the vixen’s taut flesh chose that moment to bulge out gently into Krystal’s palm making her gasp.
“Heh. Yeah, the kits are feisty today,” The vixen agreed with Krystal’s jaw-dropping shock. She moved aside to settle on the stool her kid had been using. It was yet another surprise she did not just crush the furniture with such a soft ass pouring over the sides. “It’s so great to see you again. I thought you guys would never come get me.”
“What…” Krystal had started, but pulled her gaze away from the woman’s enormously pregnant figure to meet their eyes. Words fell away from a slack jawed muzzle as her tail shook violently. The face may have grown smooth and dainty with the beauty of maidenhood, but those smiling blue eyes filled Krystal with a sense of comradery nigh impossible to forget. “F-Fox!? Please... tell me that’s not you.”
“Heh, afraid it is.” The vixen leaned back a little, trying to rub her stomach, which was jostling noticeably from babies shifting within. “Although I have to admit you might be a bit too late for rescues. Unless you got a shuttle for my big self.”
“How the hell... nnggghh!”
“Whoa! Easy girl.”
Krystal had tried leaping from her bed only for her knees to buckle under a splitting headache. Luckily she had the bigger Fox, or at least her pillowy boobs, to break the fall. Smooth, slender hands, much unlike the man that used to embrace her stroked along the blue fur of her shoulder before gently guiding her back on the mattress. Krystal tried to ignore the gentle coos Fox made, as if consoling a child, waiting for the migraine to pass.
“Don’t worry, Gene’s blaster didn’t injure you beyond some light singeing and she’s very sorry about the overcharged stun.” Fox gave a sheepish grin, betrayed by her folded back ears. “Didn’t stop me from worrying myself sick when they dragged your unconscious body in. You must have really spooked your welcoming party.”
Krystal seethed a few breaths through clenched fangs. The headache passed way too slowly for her liking before she could ask, “Why... are you a woman!?”
“Oh, you like it?” Fox brought a hand to her cheek, attempting a cute smile and eyelash batting. “The boobs aren’t nearly as heavy as they look, and it’s done wonders for my complexion. Although, I just can’t quit the military haircut. I’d be choking on my hair in my sleep if it grew out.”
“...Fox?”
“Okay, it’s that weird pink sun for this system. You know I’ve never been much of a scientist, but the village shaman says it gives out some kind of super radiation that enhances estrogen. This planet’s rough atmosphere acts like a greenhouse keeping it in too. Far as I can tell, it makes girls way thicker and guys... well, you can see what it does to guys right here. You’d find the holy grail sooner than a y-chromosome around these parts.”
To be fair, it was not the most ridiculous explanation Krystal had ever heard. She was a telepath that got possessed by spirits occasionally, so there was little room for skepticism. There was a minute of silence while they both looked each other over and analyzed the facts. Krystal tugged at the front of her bra too lost in thought to worry about it pinching into her more normalized chest.
“But how could you have possibly already gotten pregnant? Like, you only crashed two weeks ago and if there are no men here…”
“Ah, I was worried that’d be the case,” Fox said more to herself than at Krystal. “It’s actually been six years now since I crashed here. Either the sun makes time distorted or that wormhole flung me back across reality. Even the former scientists villagers haven’t been able to figure that one out.”
“But how could you have a kid!?”
“Oh, I don’t have one kid, silly. I have three.”
“WHAT!?” Krystal whipped her gaze to the door, finding a trio of eyes peeking around at the blue fox curiously. The fox from before had been joined by a chicken and cat of the same age. Despite the different species, they all shared Fox’s copper fur color almost down to the pattern.
“Yeah. The shaman has an artificial inseminator that can use anyone’s DNA regardless of gender. Apparently I hit an unintentional jackpot with triplets.” Fox laughed, rubbing her distended middle with both hands in a longing smile. “Maybe twice if I’m this big at only six months too.”
“That’d be sweet if I wasn’t a little creeped out, Fox, dear.” Krystal gave a nervous laugh as she tried and succeeded in standing once again. “We should probably get you back up to the Great Fox. We can study this radiation and maybe help you out.”
“Oh, gosh! Did you bring Slippy and Falco through the wormhole too?”
They shared a knowing laugh unable to resist the mental image of their friends undergoing the same super-squishy transformation as Fox.
“No, of course not. They’re on the other side of the... hole.”
The sentence barely got finished as some realization rendered Krystal staring horrified, into the distance. Fox tilted his head quizzically until her own brain slowly drew together a few conclusions. Namely, that the wormhole did not like to stay open and nothing on this planet could open this side.
“You didn’t bring them through?”
“I didn’t know there was a time gap here. Finding out if you were alive was a bit more important.”
“Well, how long until Slippy gets another hole open?”
“Um... three to five days?” Krystal bit her lip, absently trying to tug some slack into her panties. “So that would be about…”
“Two years, give or take,” Fox confirmed with a nod. She looked in a struggle to say something encouraging to her old girlfriend, but her eyes trailed down noticing something else. A slight smile curled her muzzle lips. “If it’s any consolation, you get used to not seeing the ground really fast. Which will probably be your case come tomorrow morning.”
“W-what? I... um... ugh.” Krystal gulped, slowly following her fellow vixens gaze. Her black bra had somehow shrunk to look comically undersized trying to contain the pair of white furred cantaloupes squishing and bulging over their cups. The pinch of straps burned into her shoulders with a mounting intensity the longer she dwelled on this heavy display. “Ooooohhh... crap! They better not expect me to have any kids like this!”
