Salamander MILF

He thought about Trace. What was she playing at? Trying to make him feel small...another scheme to mess with him?

He looked around the room. The others weren't any better for his state of mind. Two handsome toads stood in the corner, chatting up a shorter — but no less athletic — salamander. Three salamanders — one male, two female — sat some distance from himself and Greg, but their conversation could reach all the way to the bar. He caught sight of tight bodies, chiselled jaws, and soft curves. Well-exercised creatures of genetic modification. Science's bounty; brawny and beautiful. Aside from the frog at the bar Chris felt lesser compared to every scantily-clad man he saw. And the women were a distraction of another kind. Like Trace, they were pretty, and had plenty of admirers who looked to score a night in their bed. Loud whispers, subtle cues, and furtive glances built up as more and more inhabitants of the ARC arrived.

"Shift change," Greg explained. "Everyone needs to unwind, even test subjects like ourselves."

"Yo, Greg!" A call from the new entrants heralded the advancing figure of another salamander. Strong and supple, like the one Chris had been sharing a drink with, he marched with confidence towards the seated pair. An icy blue, with the same kind of thong cupping his generous package. Pecs glistened in the light of the bar, and Chris swore he felt the floor tremble as the sheer mass of the newcomer crept ever closer.

"Bruno!" Greg responded with glee. The two raised arms and hi-fived — a loud, wet smack that pierced Chris' ears. The solid cords of muscle in his arms pulsed. "Good to see you man. Long day?"

"Like hell Greg. Like fucking hell!"

"What did I tell you? Don't sign up for submerged lung capacity tests if you hate being bored outta your skull."

"Yeah...well...it pays more than my usual gig. Underwater for hours and hours. I seriously thought they'd forgotten I was down there near the end."

"Wanna sit?" Greg turned to Chris, who shrugged. Bruno accepted his offer and pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat down, dragging it the last few feet with his ass planted firmly on the cushioned seat.

"Hey, hey...ease up on the leg spread Bruno, don't make Chris feel any worse than he already does!" Greg shouldered his friend. The blue-tinged salamander chuckled, and compromised on his stance. "Sure thing," he said, "so who is Chris to you anyways?"

"Chris here is Trace's boyfriend."

"Ah, Trace — Beth's friend right?"

"That's the one."

"Neat. So you're the reason I won big against the croakers."

Sensing confusion, Greg whispered to Chris. "He put a bet on that us humble Salamandridae would eventually reach bufonid levels of 'fertility'. Seems we needed some outside help to get there."

"You're a good man, helping out the team Chris," Bruno said, brushing the human's head. Chris wasn't happy with the amount of water that remained in his hair, matting it down, but was too pleased to hear nice, ego-boosting things about himself to be bothered.

"I must be famous here," he remarked.

"Ehhhh..." the amphibian pair shrugged. "What's a few words between friends is a lot different to gossiping to the entire complex."

"Don't let it go to your head," Bruno added. "You're a guest here. Maybe outside you have status but in here — you're living at Trace's pleasure."

"Easy, easy," Chris said. A sharpness in Bruno's eye caught him. Steel-grey. And looking right through him. "I wasn't trying to be a smart-ass."

"No, I should say sorry. I went too far." Bruno grumbled and shuffled closer. "We tend to miss being able to go about our business without being confined to ARC grounds."

"What, really? Do you guys not get to leave? See the rest of the world? At all?"

"What?" Greg snorted, his slit nostrils flaring. "Looking like this? Heh, not many places in the world where that'd not stir controversy, but..." he sighed mid-sentence, rubbing his chest, "I gave all that up."

"We have times where we go out," Bruno said, gauging the mood between the two others, "but the ARC is the only place where we can feel at home. People don't look at you the same way they used to."

Chris sighed. "Trace told be something similar. I sometimes thought she was exaggerating. Sometimes not. Sounds like a real bummer."

They nodded in agreement. "Maybe, in the future, when our work at the ARC is complete. For now...we get waited on hand-and-foot. It's a hard life to turn down, even if there's effort involved."

"Yeah," Bruno coughed, "I'm with Greg. We got everything we need here. I mean, you can tell, can't you?" He pointed to his surroundings, gesturing to all manner of amenities, and beyond — through the openings to the rest of the centre. Long pathways led from the indoor recreational area to other facilities. And the rustle of foliage outside spoke of vast stretches of green. Where the residents could be at peace, away from the ills of the world at large.

"Well, this conversation's gotten very serious," Chris joked. "Are you usually like that with guests?"

"Not a chance," Greg jeered in response, "I'm just plied with the wrong kinda alcohol! I wanted something with bite."

"So you're saying that's the booze talking?"

Greg squinted. "Now you're getting it! We've had a long day, and we're normally whiny bastards 'round this time of day. Do you want another drink?"

Chris was about to answer 'no', but a new voice cut him off...

"There you are honey!"

Greg turned toward the source of the voice, a big smile on his snout. His tongue flicked as he saw a female approach. Chris and Bruno followed suit, seeing a grey-skinned salamander, about five feet in height, saunter over to the chatting trio.

"Thought you'd gone when I didn't see you wiping the floor with another poor soul at your usual haunt," said the newcomer, waving.

"I decided to take a break while I hung out," Greg replied, catching the short female when she got close and bringing her in for a kiss. They remained locked together for several seconds; the soft, sopping sounds of their embrace audible to the rest of the table.

She took up position on Greg's lap, hugging his torso. She looked at the others. "Hey Bruno."

"Hey Beth."

Chris nodded politely. Beth, huh? He paused. For a guy his size, Greg's type was very petite. The grey salamander joined the table properly, finding a chair of her own. Passing Chris, she glanced at him knowingly. He sat, wondering what it meant. It wasn't cheek. The look felt...different.

"This is Chris, in case you were waiting for him to say something," Greg said to her. "He and I were in a game earlier. I went easy on him." He winked as he finished talking.

So, Chris thought, I was spared a floor-wiping. "Must be my disarming personality," he blurted loudly.

The pale expression and palm clasped haphazardly across his mouth was a source of much amusement. "Yeah, sure, your personality," Greg muttered, "not the fact Trace would rip off my tail if I upset her crush."

"More than a crush, Greg. Unless you're forgetting Bruno's bet." It was now Chris' turn to receive a hi-five from the bulky hybrid. Bruno's arm shot forward, slamming their palms together and leaving a stinging pain in Chris' comparatively delicate appendage.

"Fine," he said, sticking his tongue out, "boyfriend." As the word left his mouth, Beth looked away — a red colour rising to the fore. "Honey," she said to Greg, "stop teasing our guest!"

"Okay, then I'll start teasing you!" He swept her up into his arms, dragging her from her seat before she had a chance to settle in. He planted a kiss on her neck, gleefully whispering into her ear. "You wore the piece I got you," he exclaimed, raising his voice enough for everyone to hear, too giddy to notice. Giddy like a love-struck puppy.

Beth stroked her cheek. "Of course I did." Her attire was a lot more risqué than Trace's. Missy came close, and based on Chris' limited experience of life in this place he wasn't surprised some people like to show more skin than others. They had the bodies for it, after all.

Tiny patches of triangular fabric covered her small bust, and an ultra-thin sweeping 'V' bottom rose from between her thighs. She sat low, snuggling with Greg, his arm massive in comparison. A felled tree trunk pinning the hapless beauty beneath it's rough-hewn mass.

Beth discovered Chris' gawping. "Do you like it?" she asked, giggling.

He laughed back. "That's the second time someone's asked me for an opinion on bikinis today!"

"Who? It's not Trace — she loves a one-piece."

Greg nipped his lover's cheek. "Side effect of her former sex, that's my theory."

Suppose he's right, Chris told himself, guy like Trey wasn't the type to not stare at women. Maybe she still feels like she needs to cover up. Guilt?

"Well it's gotta be something else," chirped Beth, "because I was the same. Yet...here I am, showing off the goods!"

"Beth, honey, please! Save it for when we're alone. I don't want Bruno salivating over you."

"Yes, you do," Bruno said, without a hint of obvious humour.

"Okay, yes I do. Makes me feel important having such a lovely little thing under my arm, hmm?" Greg nuzzled Beth, who purred.

Chris interrupted their moment, surprised after parsing her words. "Wait...what did you mean when you said you were the same?"

Beth looked at him, rolling her eyes. "It means I used to be a guy too."

"..."

"Well don't look so shocked," said Bruno. "Thought you'd be used to it after Trace."

"Uhh...yeah...but...I..."

"Aww, he's flustered." Greg smiled at Chris.

"That's not the best part. Guess who I used to be?"

Chris frowned. In the dim light of the bar he didn't trust his eyes. Not after a drink or two.

"Am I supposed to know?"

"Duh! If I'm asking you to guess I you'd assume I wouldn't ask any old stranger."

Chris raised his hands. "I don't have the faintest idea."

"Begins with a 'B' and ends in 'er'. Full name, not my first on its own."

"Look, Beth, I'm not gonna guess — you'll just have to tell me."

"Fine. I'll make it easier. My first name was: Brian."

She gave him time to process her clue, confident he'd reach the answer. The cogs turned, and gears whirred, and one might swear you could hear 'em. Eventually, with Greg and Bruno having gone to the bar and returned triumphantly with yet more stiff libation in the form of multicoloured bottles the entire time he was thinking, he got it.

"Brian. Wait...Brian Keller! That Brian!?"

A clink came from the table as the glasses were refilled. Greg and Bruno shared a look, suppressing their mirth.

"So you do 'member me," Beth cheered as Greg brought her a tall sparkling flute of...something purple. And very definitely alcoholic.

"Yes, 'course I do! You...you were never so...so..."

"Confident?"

"Yeah!"

"And sexy?"

"Um...uh..."

"Have the hots for my girl, do ya?"

No-one believe Greg was being serious, and being the first to break into laughter proved them right. The table shared a round of chuckling. Beth (formerly Brian) drank her fill of the purple stuff and asked her partner for more in the sweetest tone. While Greg obliged her, Chris couldn't help but keep asking questions.

"I don't understand. What lead you here?"

Beth sipped. "That is something I'd rather keep to myself. No offence Chris. But I will say that I needed a reset on my life. I didn't belong. Inside." She placed her hand on her upper chest, fingers dancing next to her slender throat. "Knew about the centre from what happened to Trey, but hey — thinking 'bout it is one thing, actually committing is another."

"So you came here after Trey dropped off of everyone's radar?"

"Mm-hmm. Had an inkling of where he went, after reading about this new kind of scientific programme and how it provided an opportunity for a fresh start."

"Good guess."

"Well I was teacher's pet."

"You guys went to school together?" Bruno asked, his interest piqued.

"Same school. Different grades. That didn't stop kids from knowing who's who."

"Interesting," Bruno said, "your girlfriend might have started a trend, Chris."

The human looked at Bruno quizzically. Greg offered to explain: "Beth joined three months ago. She's a recent convert. Word might spread, y'know."

Bruno whispered an aside to Chris, eyes full of mischief. "She shacked up with Greg quick."

"Hey," the other male protested, "that's just my good looks and charm."

"Are you sayin' I don't also have good looks and charm?"

Greg fired a few friendly salvoes of insults in Bruno's direction. The two anthro males exchanged piss-takes, while Beth and Chris watched.

"Sure she wasn't looking for a sugar daddy? Someone older, more experienced with ARC operations. Someone with pull in the administration?"

"Hey now — I won't be slandered by you Bruno. I got you your last job, wanna throw that back in my face?"

"Oh I think you can handle a little trash-talk."

They both rose from their chairs with a clatter. The hulking walls of beef squared off against each other. "How 'bout we settle this?" Bruno growled. "Name your challenge, and I'll take you down."

"Deal!"

Heavy muscles slapped together as arms flexed. Palm firmly in palm, Bruno and Greg gripped one another. Amid the growls and taunts, a sense of friendly competition lurked beneath a mountain of aggressive rumbling. Bodies pressed. Chests made contact, pecs fighting for dominance. Each tiny movement was countered by their opponent. Their tight figures trembled, hungrily awaiting action.

Beth chose this moment to intervene. "Boys, please! Can we calm down and have a nice conversation before we let the testosterone start making decisions?"

Blocked prematurely from exercising their territorial instinct, Bruno and Greg returned to their seats, sullen.

"So Chris," she said, "what's the occasion?"

"Love, honey," Greg spoke up, cooling off with another drink, "and life, that's why he's here."

They all looked at Chris, who merely stared back at them. "What?"

"According to Trace, your one-year anniversary of — ahem — bringing life into the world, is today."

"Sorry if it sounds invasive that we know this," Bruno added, "but you did help me win a load of money off of my toad pals."

"Yeah that does sound invasive. Does nobody have any privacy here?"

"Oh shove it," Greg said, before gesturing to the two salamanders flanking him, "these two know Trace, hell we mind her — your — kids sometimes. Forgive 'em for being a bit nosy. I, on the other hand, was asked for a favour by your girl. Had to keep a ruse going for her."

"So you're being weird on purpose?"

"Well...I kinda ran outta material after the drinks did. And c'mon dude, look at me. Do I look like a guy who can think on his feet?"

Chris made a cursory glance towards Beth, who gave him her silent blessing to answer the self-deprecating dudebro in a similar tone. "Yeah, you guys look like you gained plenty of meat in the transformation, shame some of that got into your skulls."

"Hey, what did I do?" Bruno asked, feigning outrage with an overacted gasp.

"Okay you three," Chris said, "what's actually going on?"

Greg smirked. "I'm supposed to keep you occupied for..."

He checked his watch.

"...approximately ten more seconds..."

Counting with his fingers, Greg said the numbers aloud.

"...five, four three..."

He mouthed 'one', the corner of his jaw curled upwards.

In unison, Greg and Bruno wolf-whistled, looking past Chris to the entrance. Beth scrunched her face. Chris turned around, first checking over his shoulder, then...

...

He saw her.

"..."

Trace stood at the entryway, doors gently swinging shut behind her. Her old swimsuit/wetsuit combo was gone. In its place, hugging her body tightly, was a captivating scarlet dress. It hung from thin straps that tapered from her shoulders downward, gradually widening until they covered most of her breasts. Her blue-green skin shone with residual moisture, with the solid yellow patches marking out the flow of her curves, diving between her generous cleavage and disappearing beneath the dress. A plunging gap between the split sides of the dress terminated at the small fat of her lower abdomen, her bellybutton visible an inch from either side. It joined into a single piece from that point onward, spreading wide according to Trace's hourglass hips. Broad, supple, salacious spawning hips.

Chris could've stopped there. But there was more. So much more!

From her hips, the sides of the dress split once more, leaving a length of material to cover her inner thighs, leaving her outer thighs exposed. The sublime curtain of red, figure-hugging delight ended just above the knee, where it was followed by a dash of flesh before the next item of clothing. Coasting along her body, Chris saw her high-heeled sandals, a dark brown, coiling around her legs with criss-crossing knee-high straps. The spike at the heel glimmered in the evening night. Seven inches of drop-dead gorgeous, supporting her webbed feet.

At a loss for words, he could only breathe. The ensemble sheathed her supple salamander body, enhancing her cleavage, hips, and rear.

She was...

Oh my God, kill me now so I can die happy!

She was beautiful.

This was more than the lust he'd felt last year. Much more. His heart throbbed in its cage, bound by her spell. The light, the mood, was perfect. And when she stepped toward him — bliss! The rippling effect her motions made 'cross her dress sucked him into a trance. One he didn't want to escape.

He watched the delight on her face grow. A slight tilt to the side, a blushing cheekbone, every subtle cue he devoured. Ravenous.

Chris felt a tap on his shoulder. "You should sit up," he heard, though couldn't tell from who. He obeyed, standing still. His advancing love continued to enthral him. Every move, every step, every swish of her strong tail. The gleam of her teeth as they formed a perfect smile. The light of her eyes, illuminating his soul. Her presence — divine.

He found it tricky to breathe as she approached.

Another voice from behind...

"Go on then lover-boy!"

Greg pushed him, giving him the nudge necessary to power through on his own.

He walked, and his heart waited to burst.

* * *

Returning upstairs after a stroll through the ARC grounds, remarkably quiet in the off-hours, Trace opened the door to her apartment. "I dropped by the nursery before I came to collect you — kids are fine, staff's keeping 'em occupied." There was a brief pause as she studied his face. Throughout the time they spent walking she'd sensed something. They hadn't spoken much, merely linked arms and took in the sights. She had shivered in the cool evening air — an unspoken request for Chris to enclose her in his warm-blooded form. The last stretch was traversed this way. Slow, plodding steps. Her tail tucked between his legs, swishing and knocking against his ankles. His arms holding her, surrounding her...circling her waist and lying flush with her soft belly.

Now standing outside her home, key-card pressed between her fingers, they waited. One of them was going to make a move. One was going to speak, or act. Deciding on who was unimportant, and they drew their continuing silence out over the course of several minutes. Neither wanted to lose the magic of the moment.

Trace rubbed him with the side of her jaw, perplexed by his expression. "You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Nothing," she sighed, "I thought you were distant, like something bothered you."

"Well...I wasn't—"