On the Scene with Backstage Rats

(contains anthro species TF, male muscle growth, female weight gain, messy yiff, explosive lactation, and the tragic massacre of countless desserts)

Cameo appearance by Nakawa

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Being a journalist had a lot of great perks to it. Just for agreeing to spew some cringe corporate words promoting whatever garbage was being covered, they get so much early access or exclusive meetings. Resorting to media shilling was remarkably easy when it paid the bills.

Sure, it might make some people angry, but for Wendel a free meal was a free meal. Somehow he slunk his way into the screening for a new movie with full catering and a private viewing room. That made it sad in his opinion. The accommodations were way more enjoyable than the movie itself. Something having to do with ancient Chinese new years tuned to horror elements. Good for Disney to branch out, but even their CGI budget has a way of ruining the suspense.

Good thing it did not matter how mundane average the movie was, that was subpar for a big studio. Wendel was already making a mental checklist of the bullshit he would write as a review while piling fried shrimp onto a tiny paper plate. Whoever sponsored this event went a bit overboard on bribing the test screeners. There were even testing brands of lattes to go with the ‘authentic’ sushi.

“Excuse me, Wendel.” A thick finger with its end encased in hard keratin tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled to find the speaker to be a much larger cow lady in a semi-formal sweater and jeans like him. She gave a cheerful wave adding, “Have you seen the dessert cart?”

“Hmmph mrrph?” The bunny finished chewing the wad of food bulging his cheeks, then tried speaking again. “Oh, hi, Nassie. How the heck you get in here without me noticing?”

“You know me, I like to sit in the far back. It makes it easier to see over those hug ears of yours.”

Wendel’s signature bunny ears twitched from the focus brought to them. “Funny. The desserts over by the coffee there.”

“Thanks, cutie!” Nassie ran her hoofed hand through Wendel’s hair as she passed, making him grumble in resistance. That did not slow her desire to sample some brownies while scanning the offered caffeine. “So who are you writing for these days? I haven’t bumped into you since that college apprenticeship.”

“I’ve gone freelance,” Wendel said between bites from his shrimp pile. The strange whiff of gouda in the air also drew his attention toward the coffee cups. “Started up an E-zine after moving to Seattle, mostly self-promoted works, but I sell to outlets when the story fits into their general focus.”

Nassie snapped her fingers with an epiphany. “Yeah! Were you the one with that article about a giant bunny girl messing up downtown?”

Wendel stuttered so hard he swallowed the next shrimp tail and all. “You mean the giant bunny that looked a lot like me but with muscle and breasts bigger than god bringing down a building with vigorous lesbian humping?”

“Yeah!”

“No, that was someone else.”

“...oh.” Nassie’s sigh sounded unexpectedly disappointed, but a wrinkle of her thick nostrils diverted the conversation. “Why do all these lattes smell like cheese?”

“You got me,” Wendel said, grateful the cow was not noticing his red face. The things he did to make a living were never worth discussing in detail. “It must be that whole year of the rat theme with the movie. I heard the sponsor is hoping to make it a new line of flavors.”

“Who looks at coffee and thinks ‘you know what this needs? More cheese!’ They didn’t even serve these for the pre-show snacks.”

“They were probably the same people that thought cow milk would make it taste better?” That got Nassie to shoot the smug bunny a glare. She did have to wear extra-sized pants to get them over the bulge of her udder and stomach. “I mean, look how well that turned out?”

With a gentle snort, Nassie plucked a cup out of the assortment, using her three meaty fingers like a crane to place it before Wendel. “Want to be a ladies hero and try one first then?”

Wendel slowly chewed on the prawn in his mouth, leaving a finger pointing intently at the cows snout. Normally this was the part he said something snarky and made a cowardly escape. Only problem was that he needed something to wash down that dangerously sharp shrimp tail, anyway. Pulling back the finger, the rest quickly opened to snatch up Nassie’s offered cup. A few twitches of his little pink nose caught a distinct cheddar and garlic flavor, something he never expected with coffee.

At least it was a small sample cup. Wendel downed the contents in three heavy gulps before second thoughts or nauseating smells could get him to reconsider. He almost regretted that approach by the time he was setting an empty cup back on the table. Cheese flavoring lingered heavily on his tongue, causing a few smacks against the roof of his muzzle.

“Not bad,” he said in response to Nassie’s expecting stare. “I don’t know how they managed it but dairy continues to work as excellently as your milk duds.”

“Whatever you say, big ears.” Nassie giggled. Wendel was about to take a second cup when he noticed Nassie continuing to stare at him. “Huh…”

“What? What huh!?” If years of living under lunatic neighbors had taught Wendel anything it was that kind of reaction rarely preceded anything good. He eventually followed her eyes upwards, by which point his ears had finished changing. Their length had shortened, only to widen out into more rounded plate shapes. “Oh, come the fuck on!”

Nassie processed what she was witnessing with a soft giggle. It was kind of adorable watching that blunt rabbits snoot lengthen into an angular rodent’s point. That did not bother Wendel as much as the way the fur on his forearms and shins molted, leaving bright pink skin to resemble gloves.

“Ugh! At least it’s only a moderate change-YEEK!” Gosh, even the way Wendel squeaked in alarm was cutely high pitched now. His hips rocked forward with a harsh jolt thanks to his tail exploding out in a rush of spinal growth. It flopped at his ankles, a scaly pink worm bristling with thin hairs. A pathetic display compared to his previous lump of fluff. “Year or the rat? I’d threaten to sue, but I bet this garbage was in our NDA.”

“It is,” Nassie confirmed rather casually. The cow already had her phone out and discovered the info with a few careful hoof swipes. “Also apparently they’ll reimburse the clothing damage too, so there’s that.”

“Well, there’s not really much of that. I’d rather not be another giant...wait, are taking pictures of me!?”

“You got to admit you make a cute rat.” Nassie turned her phone around, showing Wendel her newest image of a brown-patched rat man scowling furiously back. “I’ll send these to you later. The mid-transformation shots might be perfect cover images for our reviews.”

“Like hell I’m giving you permission to use me in a review!”

“Oh, be a friend. With dimples like this we could make you the next meme.”

“That’s at least a step up from having breasts bigger than my hea-yea-eay-yeeeee!”

Nassie’s eyes grew wide watching the newly changed rat vibrate in place. She promptly had to jump back to avoid Wendel literally exploding out of his clothes. In maybe five seconds she went from staring down to craning her head back to remain in frightened eye contact.

Shoe’s popped off their leather bases, letting Wendel’s hairless pink paws swell forward.

Pant legs were rent apart at their sides from legs bulking up stronger and wider than some tree trunks. To say nothing about the huge inflating bulge tearing off their zipper and buttons. Wendel tried to grapple at the seat but could not keep it covering the toned brown cheeks of an amazingly chiseled ass.

Tension shot through Wendel’s bulking arms anyway, causing an involuntary flex that shredded sweater sleeves into confetti. The rest of his top went out in a similar bang thanks to his puffing pectorals. Billowing beefcake surged forward until a tear split the fabric down the middle, unveiling a ridged wall of abdominal muscles as what remained of clothing fell away.

“I will kill whoever made that coffee,” Wendel declared looking his muscle-inflated, and very naked, body over. The fact his voice kept the high squeak of a rodent did not escape Nassie, much like the thick lump of manliness only half contained in his stretched briefs.

“Let’s see,” the cow picked up Wendel’s empty cup, gaining some curiosity herself. “It says ‘for a better immersive experience from your friends at Vault 72.’”

“Of course, it’d be Desmond,” Wendel huffed, leaning on the table. He was a bit too upset at his transformation to realize it had also multiplied his density ten fold. “Or at least, it’s someone in his damn gang posing as a company. Did you read my story about the time that bastard made me a…”

KRRSSSHH!!

The catering might have been expansive, but the tables certainly were not. It’s folding legs supported Wendel’s excessive buffness for about eight seconds before a sharp snap sent him crashing to the floor. Uneaten platters of cakes, cookies and coffee rained over him in a splattering of fur stains. His only take away was that the booby-trapped lattes were not scolding hot.

“Um, are you okay?” Nassie said, her voice dropping to an awed whisper. The tight bundle of white wrapped around Wendel’s hip gave out from the landing, allowing his thick member to flop out atop an impressively swollen sack of family jewels.

“I think I hurt the production costs more than myself,” Wendel grumbled in his weak attempt at humor. The world was still spinning with him, vaguely aware of all the sugary foods decorating his fur. It was only when he caught sight of Nassie’s horns and black hair moving to the center his chest ridge that he refocused on the moment. “Uh, what are you doing? SQUEAK!? Nassie!?”

“Just helping you get cleaned up,” Nassie lied with hands wrapping their hoofed fingers around Wendel’s member. Between the surprise advance and the rats shy alarm, she barely had to do anything to get a rise out of it. “We don’t want your new rodent muscles getting sticky fur.”

“T-there’s not even food on my junk, you...crazy...nnnghhh...h-hey!”

“Nonsense, I love junk food.” Nassie giggled, giving the large pink head a kiss. There was a slight hint of hazelnut roast and swiss to it, which just made her want this dick even more. She began licking Wendel’s goods in a feverish high, completely disregarding their surroundings or the dark-roasted flavor.

Despite his squeaking protests, the rat’s member was soon towering at attention. The girth it flaunted sent Nassie’s thinning snout drooling and lengthening tail wagging. There might have been a record set with how fast her jeans and panties flew off, even after they caught on the growing width of her butt.

“Oh fuck, not here,” Wendel gasped as his fellow reporter cupped his nuts in each hand. It was strange they did not sting with the usual coldness of her hoofed fingers, but he could not complain about this warmer soft touch tickling his most sensitive bits. “C-come on, Nassie! Anyone can walk in on us….Nassie?”

“Yes?” she rose into view over Wendel’s massive pecs, moving to straddle his equally beefed hips. If not for the signature horns and udder plopping onto his abs, Wendel would have barely recognized the excessively fat rat climbing onto him. The jiggle of her butt cheeks was enough to blanket most of his thighs, while the usually pudgy belly had inflated three times in size to give her a very berry-like figure. It was some kind of miracle her medicine balls for breasts were still wrapped in her business sweater, though the shapes of their ridiculously too small bra outlined the fabric. “We’re sampling a product so let them watch. Maybe they’ll want to try it out too.”

“Wha-haah aah!” Wendel bit his lip in a seething breath, feeling his member slowly swallowed up by the wet lips of Nassie’s crotch.

The new cow-rat was very slow in her descent until it was apparently safe to take in the whole phallus. After that she was hammering her chunky hips onto that nail for all she was worth. The lounge room became filled with the sloshing of engorged mammaries and slapping of plush rodent rear. Nassie’s hands clawed across the dense ridges of Wendel’s chest muscles, both of them squeaking each time her hefty weight collided with his hips.

Whatever protests left in Wendel died under Nassie’s vigorous love making. Not to mention the frantic jostling of her tits were captivating. He could only tolerate their desperate struggle to escape their tight sweater before deciding to offer assistance. Hulking pink hands shot up to clamp each mound in a hard squeeze that elicited a startled squeak from Nassie. It only slowed her humping for a moment before she resumed the pace, this time undulating her spine to help shove her orbs into Wendel’s palms.

Wendel enjoyed tugging and pushing the pliable flesh for a bit, lust causing a hard pulse of pre to warm his fellow transformed rat’s insides. Fists then grabbed what loose slack of the collar he could, tearing the shirt in half with one solid yank. Nassie gave off several more hard squeaks, loving the way her bra broke even easier under the manly muscles of her random lover. She could not help rewarding him by rolling forward to engulf the whole of Wendel’s front with her excess udder and belly. The extra weight pressed hard onto his lung, but having such glorious furry boob rolled into his face was worth it.

It was just the right position Nassie wanted to be in when she climaxed. Hard pulses flexed the insides of her pussy, sucking on Wendel’s shaft with all its might. As a little bonus, this also caused exorbitant amounts of milk to spurt from her udder and breasts. Getting to hear the surprised gurgles of Wendel taking torrents of lactose in the face only fueled her pleasure high.

It was her way of helping wash off all the messy food from Wendel’s fur. A few more hard humps soon earned her payment in the form of Wendel’s penis convulsing against her slick vaginal walls. The warmth of cum flowed into her womb in a small flood of its own, nearly causing her tight insides to climax again. The rats were clawing all over each other's soft and firm parts, giving little chitters between kisses, trying to prolong their orgasms.

Eventually exhaustion kicked in, forcing Nassie to roll off and enjoy being pinned to the floor by her own fat. Wendel was hardly any different, heaving for breath with muscles ironically too heavy to move. Sleep might have kicked in at some point, since neither knew how long they laid there silently catching some air. It was only when a sheet of paper fluttered to rest on their faces that Wendel found the energy to push into a sitting position.

He glanced at the paper, finding it mostly a bunch of fill-in number questions. His gaze then turned to the mouse girl in a black suit standing beside him.

“Hi!” she gave a very wide smile and wave, undeterred by all the milk, food, and body fluids soaked into Wendel’s fur. “Before you guys go, would you mind rating your experience with our new brand of Breeding Lattes?”