Liam’s massive frame loomed over Charlie, the air between them crackling with raw, unchecked energy. His powerful paw, now tipped with thick, black claws, pinned Charlie’s slender neck to the plush bedding, the catboy’s orange fur contrasting starkly against the dark fabric. Liam’s other hand, equally transformed, guided his throbbing length, the tip already slick with pre, to Charlie’s eager, exposed posterior. The rich scent of musk and primal need filled the room, a heady mix that drove Liam beyond restraint. His mind, once sharp with an officer’s discipline, now dulled under the weight of feral instinct, focused solely on claiming what lay before him.
Charlie’s tail flicked with impatient delight, the soft, striped fur brushing against Liam’s fur-covered abdomen. His lithe body quivered, hips arched in desperate invitation, the puckered ring of his anus twitching in anticipation. Liam’s engorged phallus, now a beastly thing with subtle barbs lining the shaft as befits a felid anatomy, pressed against the tight entrance. The barbs, small but pronounced, promised a textured friction unique to his transformed state, a sensation rooted in the biological design of feline copulation. With a guttural roar rumbling from deep within his expanding chest, Liam thrust forward, breaching Charlie with unrelenting force.
A sharp yowl escaped Charlie’s lips, his sharp canines glinting as his mouth opened wide, eyes flashing with a mix of pain and ecstasy. His claws dug into the sheets, tearing thin strips of fabric as Liam hilted himself, the barbs scraping delicately along Charlie’s inner walls, stimulating the sensitive tissue in a way that sent electric shocks through his diminishing frame. Liam’s pelvis slammed against Charlie’s slim backside, the impact echoing through the expansive bedroom, a rhythmic declaration of dominance. His once-human musculature had ballooned into something far grander, shoulders broadening to the width of a Barbary lion’s powerful build, pectoralis major and deltoids swelling with each primal movement, veins pulsing beneath the golden fur now coating his skin.
“Take it, kitten,” Liam growled, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble, vibrating through his elongated canines as they protruded over his lower lip. The words barely formed through the haze of his reduced cognition, every synapse firing toward possession and rutting rather than rational thought.
“Harder, Mr. Officer!” Charlie mewled, wiggling his hips to meet each punishing thrust, his submission a tangible force. His once-muscular physique had withered further, now a delicate, almost elfin frame, reflective of an orange tabby’s agile grace. His femur and tibia had shortened, reducing his height, while his pelvis narrowed, accentuating the feline sway of his movements. The fur across his body thickened, a vibrant orange with distinct tabby stripes, soft and dense over his once-human skin. His ears, perched atop his head, twitched at every sound, the tufted tips quivering as Liam’s barbs dragged within him, intensifying his spiraling libido.
Liam’s thrusts grew more savage, the room shaking with the force of his enlarged body, now teetering on the edge of a full leonine transformation. His spinal column lengthened, supporting a burgeoning mane of dark brown fur that cascaded over his shoulders, framing his face where a broad, feline snout had pushed out, whiskers sprouting from either side. The metacarpals in his hands thickened into true paws, though retaining some dexterity, as he gripped Charlie tighter, claws pricking the catboy’s furred skin without breaking it. His penis, engorged to a size befitting his Barbary lion form, pulsed inside Charlie, the barbs ensuring a lock that mimicked feline mating behavior, each withdrawal pulling at the delicate lining of Charlie’s rectum, heightening the smaller man’s gasps into shrill cries.
“Mine,” Liam snarled, the protective urge swelling in his chest, a biological imperative to guard and dominate overriding any semblance of his former restraint. His trapezius muscles bunched with each movement, the sheer mass of his form casting a shadow over Charlie’s shrinking body, dwarfing him further as the catboy’s transformation cemented.
Hours bled into the night, their bodies intertwined in a relentless cycle of mating. Liam’s stamina, fueled by the drug coursing through his veins, knew no bounds, each climax only spurring him to continue, his semen flooding Charlie’s passage, the volume excessive due to the hypertrophic changes in his seminal vesicles and prostate. Charlie, lost to his heightened libido, writhed beneath the onslaught, his own orgasms spattering across the sheets, his smaller, barbed member twitching with each release, the feline papillae on his glans hypersensitive to even the slightest friction against the fabric.
Charlie’s body continued its shift, his clavicles narrowing further, giving his torso a lighter, more fragile appearance. His scapulae pulled inward, aligning his shoulders for a quadrupedal gait if he so chose, though he remained bipedal in surrender to Liam. The fur on his tail grew fluffier, the appendage curling instinctively around Liam’s thigh during a brief pause, a sign of feline affection amid the raw intensity. His vocal cords adjusted, producing higher-pitched meows and purrs, intermingling with his pleas for more, his submission to Liam now an ingrained trait under the drug’s influence.
By the time exhaustion claimed them, the bed was a ruin of shredded fabric and stained sheets, the air heavy with the musk of their exertion. Liam’s massive form collapsed atop Charlie, his breath hot against the catboy’s furred nape, a protective paw draped over the smaller male as sleep overtook them. His body, though still immense, began a gradual regression in the early hours, the drug’s peak passing. His musculature receded slightly, though not fully, leaving striations of enhanced muscle fibers beneath skin now sparsely dotted with golden fur. His snout shortened, facial bones reforming closer to human structure, though his canines remained elongated, jutting past his lips even in rest. The mane persisted as a thick ruff of hair, blending into his curly locks, a lingering mark of his leonine surge.
Charlie, exposed to the drug far longer, showed minimal reversal. His orange tabby traits held firm—ears perched high, tail still swaying in his sleep, and his stature diminished to a dainty five feet, weighing scarcely ninety pounds. His fur remained vibrant, covering a body now permanently altered, the epiphyseal plates of his long bones having fused in this reduced state, locking his smaller frame as nearly irreversible. His feline instincts, too, lingered, a purring hum vibrating through his chest as he nestled against Liam, oblivious to the implications of his near-permanent transformation.
---
Sunlight pierced through the curtains, casting slatted shadows across the disordered room. Liam stirred first, his body aching in places he hadn’t known could ache. Blinking groggily, he sat up, the weight of his form feeling... different. Less oppressive. Running a hand over his chest, he froze. The thick mane of golden fur had receded significantly, leaving patchy stubble and a light dusting of hair across his pectorals—still more than before the drug, but closer to human. His snout had retracted, facial bones realigning overnight into a more familiar, chiseled jawline, though his canines remained slightly elongated, peeking past his lips when he grimaced. Flexing his fingers, he noted the claws had dulled to blunt, hard nails, though the pads on his palms lingered, rough and calloused.
“Damn...” His voice came out rough, deeper than usual, a residual growl tingeing the edges. Standing, he caught his reflection in a nearby mirror. His height remained imposing, well over six foot two, and his muscles retained an enhanced density, trapezius and deltoids still broader than any natural human build. Golden flecks shimmered in his baby blue irises, a permanent mark of the night’s transformation. His skin, though mostly bare again, bore faint striations where fur had been, a subtle scarring of his epidermis from the rapid cellular turnover.
Turning, he spotted Charlie still curled on the bed, tail twitching in his sleep. Liam’s gut clenched—a mix of protectiveness and something hotter, more visceral, sparked at the sight. The attraction hadn’t faded with the physical reversion. If anything, it burned stronger, tangled with a possessive urge that clashed hard against his identity as a lawman. He wanted to shield Charlie, to claim him again, but the rational part of his brain screamed conflict of interest. How could he enforce order while tethered to this... need?
Charlie stirred, golden eyes fluttering open, pupils still slit-like and predatory. “Mornin’, Mr. Officer.” His voice carried that bratty lilt, a smirk curling his lips as he stretched, tail arching high. Unlike Liam, Charlie’s transformation clung stubbornly to his frame. Orange tabby fur still coated much of his skin, denser around his chest and groin, while his ears remained perked atop his head, flicking at the sound of Liam’s breathing. His tail, fluffy and expressive, swayed lazily as he sat up, revealing a physique that hadn’t regained any of its former bulk. Standing barely five feet, his weight hovered around ninety pounds, a far cry from the towering bodybuilder he’d been. His skeletal structure—narrower pelvis, lighter bones—locked in the feline twink aesthetic, a permanent shift from prolonged exposure to the drug.
“You look... almost normal,” Charlie teased, hopping off the bed with a nimble grace, landing on the balls of his feet. His toes flexed, revealing small, retractable claws, paw pads cushioning each step. “Kinda disappointed. I liked the big, bad lion pinning me down.”
Liam’s jaw tightened, a flicker of that alpha urge surging at Charlie’s taunt. “Don’t push it, kid. I’m still figuring out what the hell happened.” He crossed his arms, biceps flexing instinctively, the residual muscle mass making the gesture more intimidating than intended.
Charlie sauntered closer, tail brushing against Liam’s leg. “Oh, come on. You loved it. I saw it in those pretty gold eyes last night. You were all ‘mine, mine, mine.’ Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.” His tone dripped with playful arrogance, but his posture—head tilted, shoulders relaxed—screamed submission, an instinctual deference to Liam’s lingering dominance.
“I’m a cop, Charlie. I don’t play games with evidence. Whatever that drug is, it’s dangerous. Look at you—barely changed back. What if it’s permanent?” Liam’s voice hardened, though his gaze lingered on Charlie’s lithe form, the orange fur accentuating every curve of his diminished musculature. The conflict gnawed at him—duty versus desire.
“Pfft.Permanent? Hot. I’m rocking this look.” Charlie spun, tail flicking dramatically, showing off the tabby stripes along his spine. “And you... you’ve still got some lion in you, big guy. Bet you’d be even hotter if we upped the dose. Full mane, roaring, the works. I could make that happen.” His smirk turned sly, fingers drumming on Liam’s chest, testing the waters.
Liam grabbed Charlie’s wrist, grip firm but not bruising, a low growl rumbling in his throat before he could stop it. “Don’t even think about dosing me again. I’m not some toy for your rich-kid whims.” Yet even as he spoke, the warmth of Charlie’s fur under his palm sent a jolt through him, stirring that protective, possessive heat. His sternocleidomastoid tensed, neck muscles cording as he fought the urge to pull Charlie closer.
Charlie pouted, but didn’t pull away, golden eyes glinting with mischief. “Fine, fine. No sneaky stuff... for now. But admit it—you’re into this. Into me. Don’t lie, Mr. Officer. I can smell it on you.” His nose twitched, feline senses picking up the subtle shift in Liam’s scent, a mix of arousal and frustration.
Liam released Charlie’s wrist, stepping back to put distance between them. His heart hammered, thoracic cavity tightening as he wrestled with the truth in Charlie’s words. “I’ve got a job to do. A girlfriend. A life. This—” He gestured between them, then at Charlie’s tail. “—this ain’t part of the plan.”
“Then why’re you still here, staring at me like I’m a juicy steak?” Charlie cocked his head, tail curling around his own leg playfully. “Face it, big guy. Something’s changed in you. And I’m not just talking about those sexy fangs.”
Liam rubbed his jaw, feeling the elongated canines under his lip. He couldn’t deny it—the drug had left its mark, not just physically but mentally. Even reverted, his instincts skewed toward guarding Charlie, claiming him as territory. It grated against his role as an officer, the oath he’d sworn to uphold impartiality. But standing there, watching Charlie preen with that bratty confidence, he felt the pull. Strong. Unrelenting.
“I need answers, Charlie. Who’s your supplier? What is this stuff doing to us long-term? You’re damn near stuck like this—don’t you get it?” Liam’s tone sharpened, hands clenching at his sides, nails digging into his palms where pads still lingered.
Charlie shrugged, hopping onto a nearby chair, legs dangling as his tail swished. “Supplier? Some dude my buddy hooked me up with. Said it’d ‘unleash the beast.’ Worked, didn’t it? And long-term... who cares? I feel great. Hornier than a jackrabbit, sure, but I’ve got you to handle that.” He winked, leaning forward, small claws tapping the armrest. “Wanna handle it now, actually?”
Liam’s pulse spiked, a growl catching in his chest. His cognition dulled under the lingering effects, critical thinking sluggish compared to the night before, but the alpha traits—protectiveness, possessiveness—remained sharp. “Cut the crap. I’m serious. You’re not getting outta this by flirting. Names. Locations. Now.”
Charlie sighed, rolling his eyes with theatrical flair. “Ugh, you’re no fun when you’re all cop-mode. Fine. Dealer’s name is Vince. Hangs out near the old warehouse district on the lower side. Don’t know much else—rich kids don’t dig into the gritty details, y’know? But if you’re going after him, I’m tagging along. I wanna see my big, strong lion in action again.” His voice purred at the end, submissive undertones clear despite the brattiness.
Liam narrowed his eyes, golden flecks flashing in the light. “You’re staying put. This is police business. I’m not dragging a civilian—especially not one looking like... that—into a potential bust.” His gaze flicked to Charlie’s ears, then down to the tail, a warmth spreading through him at the sight. Damn it. Focus.
Charlie hopped off the chair, closing the distance, furred chest brushing Liam’s bare skin. “Aw, come on. I’m not just any civilian. I’m yours, remember? Besides, I know Vince’s vibe. You need me.” His tail curled around Liam’s wrist, a playful tug, while his smaller stature made the gesture oddly endearing.
Liam’s resolve wavered, the protective instinct flaring at Charlie’s proximity. His trapezius tensed, a subconscious urge to scoop the catboy up and shield him battling with protocol. “I’ll handle it. Alone. You stir up enough trouble as it is.” Yet even as he spoke, his hand twitched, wanting to grip Charlie’s slender frame, to reinforce that claim from the night before.
“Suit yourself, Mr. Officer.” Charlie stepped back, tail flicking with mock indignation. “But don’t come crying to me when you miss this cute little kitty. And hey—if you change your mind about another dose, I’ve got ways to get more. Make you the fiercest beast in Maine.” His smirk returned, golden eyes gleaming with intent, fully believing Liam’s full leonine potential was worth unlocking, even if it meant slipping him the drug again.
Liam turned away, grabbing his torn clothes from the floor, the fabric barely fitting over his enhanced frame. “Keep outta trouble, Charlie. I mean it.” He headed for the door, each step heavy with unresolved tension. His mind churned—duty demanded he investigate Vince, shut down this drug before it spread further through Elliston. But the pull toward Charlie, the lingering heat in his blood, gnawed at him. His role as protector, both as a cop and something more primal, clashed with every logical thought.
Outside, the morning air hit him, cooling the sweat on his brow. His phone—crushed last night—was useless, so he’d need to swing by the station for a replacement and report in. Chief Denning would grill him about the assault charges on Charlie, oblivious to the deeper mess unfolding. Liam’s elongated canines clicked as he clenched his jaw, a reminder of the transformation he couldn’t fully escape. Worse, the image of Charlie’s orange-furred form, small and vulnerable yet taunting, burned behind his eyes. Protectiveness surged again, an alpha’s need to guard his own, even as he knew it compromised everything.
Driving back in Charlie’s loaned car, the scent of the catboy lingered on the seats, teasing his heightened senses. His olfactory receptors, still partially leonine, picked up every trace, stirring that possessive edge. Liam gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles whitening. He’d track down Vince, get answers about this transformative substance altering their very DNA. But Charlie... dealing with him would be a whole other battle. One he wasn’t sure he wanted to win.
---
At the station, Liam filed a preliminary report, omitting the personal details of his transformation for now. Internal affairs would have a field day if they caught wind of him consorting with a suspect, transformed or not. His new phone buzzed with messages, including a missed call from Cindy. Guilt twisted in his gut—he’d spent the night with Charlie, driven by urges beyond his control, while his girlfriend waited. Yet even that guilt couldn’t erase the pull toward the catboy, a bond forged in feral heat now cemented in his psyche.
“You look like hell, Malcolme,” Chief Denning gruffed as he passed by, eyeing Liam’s strained expression and the ill-fitting shirt barely containing his bulk. “Rough night with the Halford kid?”
“You could say that,” Liam muttered, keeping his tone neutral, golden flecks in his eyes hidden behind a quick glance away. “Got a lead on a dealer in the lower district. Heading out to check it soon.”
“Keep it clean. Don’t need more rich-kid drama blowing up in our faces.” Denning slapped a file on the desk and moved off, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath Liam’s surface.
Liam geared up, holstering his weapon, the weight of it grounding him. His muscles, still denser than before, strained against his uniform, seams protesting with every move. The warehouse district awaited, a gritty maze of crumbling brick and rusted steel where Vince supposedly operated. Answers lay there—about the drug, its origins, its long-term effects on their physiology. Charlie’s near-permanent shift haunted him; prolonged exposure rewrote cellular structure, locking transformations in place. Liam couldn’t risk that for himself, no matter how much the lion inside roared for release.
Yet as he drove toward the lower side, Charlie’s taunt echoed in his mind—upping the dose, unleashing the full beast. A shiver crawled down his spine, not entirely from dread. Part of him, buried deep, craved that power again, the raw dominance of the night before. His hands tightened on the wheel, paw pads rough against leather. Duty first. Answers first. But Charlie... he’d deal with that firestorm later.
The warehouse district loomed ahead, shadows stretching long in the late morning light. Liam parked, stepping out with a predator’s grace he couldn’t shake, senses alert for any sign of Vince...