I do not own any characters from Hanna-Barbarra, and am only using them for a tale meant for entertainment purposes only.

Velma's Tail

By LJ58

1

Velma rolled over in the motel room bed, and groaned as she felt something kinking her spine more than the sagging bed.

She was beyond grateful that Daphne chose to 'sneak' into Fred's room, leaving her to sleep alone for a change. Shaggy and Scooby were off in another room, likely still gorging themselves knowing those knuckleheads.

Even as she rolled over, the kinks in her spine became secondary as something sharp sent pains right up her back as she felt as if she had just lay on a knife, or something.

Yelping, she jumped up, more than she rolled over, and landed in a crouch beside the bed.

Moaning, she put her hand back to her throbbing backside, and gasped as she felt the strange appendage dangling there.

"No….way," the voluptuously rounded brunette gasped, her free hand moving behind her now to confirm what that first hand had suggested.

She knelt there, both hands behind her, and couldn't quite grasp the reality of a thick, ropy tail now dangling behind her well-rounded bottom. Her dark eyes rounded as Velma felt for the base, and realized this was no prank. The appendage seemed to be growing right out of her own flesh and bone. Her other hand circled it, and slid down the hairy length to find the end was just as real, and just as sensitive.

Forcing herself to her feet, she reached for a lamp near the bed on a nearby table, and switched it on.

She turned, eyeing her blurry reflection before she slid her glasses into place, and then looked into the mirror on the nearby bureau again.

She swallowed hard as she saw the dark furred tail that dangled behind her, rising just over the stretched band of her plain, white panty where it had emerged. Apparently, while she had slept.

She turned one way, then another, seeing the tail just seem to grow right out of her backside atop her firmly rounded bottom.

Swallowing hard, she stepped closer, giving the tail a light tug, and cringing as she felt the resistance that seemed to suggest it was connected to her own spine.

"There has to be a logical explanation for this," she complained. "Has to be," she told herself, staring at the tail, and only that.

Walking into the bathroom, she stripped down, and checked her entire body. Other than the peculiar appendage, she looked the same as ever. No other aberrations at all. She frowned, and tried to figure out what was happening now.

She went back to the bed, pulling on only her shapeless gown, that like her usual clothes, hid her overly voluptuous frame. She had never tried to trade on her sexuality, and favored using her brain to get through life. Sure, a lot of guys wrote her off at first glance, but she wanted nothing to do with anyone that shallow.

Just now, though, her mind wasn't helping.

Of course, she was seriously distracted by the….thing now attached to her body.

Sitting carefully, she gently pulled the tail around her to study it again.

Long. Ropy. Thick, dark hair. Not like Scooby's tail. More like…..

She shivered as she lightly stroked the tail.

It was sensitive.

The hair was still growing, too. Thicker. Longer.

She frowned at that.

She was reaching for her special case with her research materials when she noted the bandage still on her left forearm.

She frowned at the white padding, and shook her head.

"Surely not," she frowned. "That's…..myth. Just….superstition."

Still, four days ago, when she and Daphne were coming back from a book-signing related to one of their more infamous cases, the redhead's car had blown a tire on an isolated country road. Daphne still being utterly clueless about some things, Velma had to show her how to change her own tire, since the woman didn't drive it often enough to know how it worked. Understandable, since they were usually all in the Mystery Machine when on their way to, or back from some case.

She had been replacing the tire when they had heard something in the woods near where they had stopped on the side of the road.

Even as she had scooped up the tire iron, something had come out of the forest, and charged them. Daphne had screeched, and leapt into the car, slamming the door behind her. That left Velma kneeling beside a flat tire, and holding a tire iron as the dark shape lunged at her.

She had time to make out slavering fangs, and swung the tire iron even as claws slashed at her, and fangs snapped at her throat.

Throwing herself to one side, she ended up tripping over the flat laying near the bumper, and went down on her side. Which, ironically, likely saved her life as the big animal she had yet to make out had lunged again, it's fangs still seeking her throat, but finding her left forearm instead.

She slammed the small, steel bar into its head, twice, and then a third time, and the animal let go, backing away, shaking a huge, shaggy head as if dazed.

In that instant she realized she was looking at a genuine wolf. One the size of a small pony.

She stared at the massive lupine, and raised the tire iron again.

The lupine snarled, then turned, bolting away as a truck drove up the tree-lined lane toward them. She lay there, trembling, one arm bleeding, and still clutching the tire iron as two men in coveralls jumped out, and came over to where she lay.

"You okay, little lady," one of the men had asked, a burly bear of a man with a scruffy beard.

"Ah, yeah," she said, still looking at the dark forest beyond the glare of the headlights as Daphne stared out over the seat, her green eyes wide with fear. "I think…. I think a wolf tried to attack us," she had said, and had sat up, examining her bloody arm.

"Wolf," the other man had chortled, a thinner, leaner man with a faint wisp of a moustache. "Shoot, gal, ain't no wolves in these parts."

"Then you have a very big dog with lupine traits running wild," she had told them, and went back to tighten the lug nuts on the tire.

"Looks like you 'bout got this all done. Sure you didn't just scrape your arm, gal," the bigger man had asked, eyeing her bloody arm.

She rolled the flat to the back, only then lowered the bumper after the tire was secured. She made no mention of the men not bothering to offer aid.

"This look like a scrape," she had asked, holding up her arm, and wiping the blood away with her other hand after tossing the jack, and the tire iron into the back.

The lean man tossed the flat tire carelessly into the trunk, and closed it for her.

"Looks like a bite, all right," the big man had nodded. "Better see a doc, gal. Maybe get a rabies shot, just in case."

"Yes, I was considering that. Thanks for stopping, though," she had said, moving to the passenger side now as Daphne had by then slid behind the wheel, looking anxious to be away.

"Well, I'll let the sheriff know we might have a wild critter. Doubt it's a wolf, though. Just glad you gals are all right. Drive safe now," he had said, and waved her off as she opened the door, and he led the other man back to their truck.

"That….was weird," Daphne had rasped, hand on the ignition, already starting the car even as Velma got in, and rummaged for a handkerchief from her bag to wrap around her arm.

"I'll say."

"I meant…. That….animal. Then those guys show up like that, and…. I have to be honest, Velma," she had shuddered as she put the car in gear, pulling out on the highway again. "I thought they were going to….try something."

"For a moment, so did I," she had admitted.

Then they put the night from their minds after they had driven to town, met the boys, and she had seen a doctor who told her she might need a tetanus shot, but likely no rabies shot, as he thought it was unlikely the 'dog' was rabid. Just scared.

She insisted on one anyway. He complied, but complained about unnecessary work on both their parts. That had been just less than a week ago.

Five days.

The night of the full moon, a part of her recalled. It had made changing the tire easy, because the night was so bright.

Five days. And….if she were to follow the legends, in just a few weeks, at the next full moon, she would become a wolf, too.

Not that she believed that. Only how did she explain the tail that now grew from her formerly tailless body?

Pulling out her research kit, she opened up her laptop, and began a web search for news from the county where they had traveled. She, meanwhile, pulled out a small medical kit, and took samples of blood, hair, and tissue. Including hairs that were (painfully) pulled from her tail. She put it into a padded mailing envelope, addressed it to a lab that specialized in crypto-zoology, and sealed it after carefully packing the samples. She prepared another set of samples she put into a packet addressed to a more mainstream lab that did forensic studies for major federal cases. The doctor she addressed the packet to knew her, and owed her a favor.

She was about to cash in on it.

Meanwhile, she noted her web search found five separate 'animal' attacks in the county over the past five months.

One was hers.

Four others were fatalities, all found only after the fact.

All, she noted, male. All partially eaten by their attacker.

She, and Daphne, were the only females to be assaulted, and apparently the only ones to survive.

She frowned at that.

Or, she amended, the only ones to escape.

Suppose, she asked herself, that obviously lethal beast had not been trying to kill her, but…..?

She needed more information.

First, she needed to get those samples assessed, and give her a baseline of what she might be dealing with here. Perhaps rogue genetic testing, or something of that nature. But then, she had the feeling she was going to have to go back to the county where the attack had occurred.

It looked like she had a genuine mystery of her own.

The thing was, she was supposed to go with the guys to check out a supposedly haunted inn upstate.

Well, how long could that take, she decided. She should have the samples assessed, and back by then, and then she'd see what they said. Right before she considered whether or not to involve Mystery Inc. in her very own, personal, mystery.

SD

"This is Douglas," she heard her caller say as she opened up her cell phone she used mostly for emergency contacts.

Shaggy eyed her as they stood in the middle of a dusty ballroom, and were supposedly looking for clues.

"I know, Doug. Did you get….?"

"Velma, you have to tell me where you got those samples," the head of the National Crypto-Zoological Foundation all but begged.

"It's part of an open case, Doug. Just tell me what you found, and when I'm ready to share, I'll tell you what I can," she said, trying to keep the uneasiness from her own tone.

Doug, she knew, only got excited about one thing.

"It's fantastic, Vel," he called her. "Simply fantastic. You have a genuine genetic hybrid. A genuine melding of wolf, and human DNA. The mesh is so smooth, so natural, you would think it was born that way. Yet, the cellular activity seems to sill be active."

"How active?"

"Vel," Doug rasped. "Whoever your sample came from? They're still mutating! If I didn't know better, I'd think you found a genuine wereling! Sure you can't tell me…..?"

"I promise," she cut him off. "The moment I'm sure of anything, I'll let you have the details."

"Good. Just….be careful. According to all accounts, most werelings are known to be territorial, and very aggressive. And since we both know this is a female, you'll have to be doubly careful, since if she's breeding, she's bound to be twice as aggressive."

She almost said there was no chance of that, but didn't say more.

"I'll let you know what I find out," she did say, and hung up.

"Like, what was with all the chatter, Velms," Shaggy asked in a very soft tone, still looking around the dark ballroom with concern. "That sounded like an entirely different mystery than what we're working on here. You freelancing, or something?"

"Rah," Scooby growled. "Reerancing?"

She was always astonished at how human the big Dane sounded at times. And how much he emulated Shaggy's manner, and personality.

Or maybe it was vice versa?

It was hard to say with those two. She was still half certain the animal might have been part of some unorthodox experiment in his past before Shaggy found him.

"It may be our next case, guys. For now, let's focus on finding the guy behind this haunting."

"Don't you mean the g-g-g-ghost behind the haunting," Shaggy asked uneasily, still glancing around.

"Nope. Guy. I smell aftershave. And since we both know you don't use it," she said, eyeing Shaggy's bristly, stillborn goatee, "And Fred favors designer colognes," she added, "It can only mean there is someone around here that is wearing cheap aftershave."

"Huh?"

"Ra, ruh," Scooby echoed.

"You don't smell it," she asked, sniffing the air again.

"Uh, Velms, are you sure you're okay? Because the only think I smell is dust, mold, and mildew. And, man, does it stink."

"Ra, rink," Scooby agreed.

Velma frowned, and had a thought.

"Scooby, do you smell aftershave?"

The big hound glanced around, then at Velma, and then back at his master. Then swallowing hard, he lifted his nose, and sniffed.

Then sniffed again.

"Scooby?"

"Ra," he nodded. "Ris ray," he pointed with a big forepaw, and trotted toward a blank wall.

"You're right," Velma realized. "It is stronger from this direction. Let's see if we can find a hidden passage, or something here," she said, putting her hands on the wall.

"Oh, c'mon, man," Shaggy groaned. "Ghosts don't need passages. And they sure don't put those passages in walls without creepy pictures, or fireplaces. This is just…."

Shaggy almost fell back as he leaned back against the wall, and it just yielded even as his left foot landed on a hidden floor trigger near the molding. Even as he gaped, he waved him arm in a futile gesture, and landed flat on his back.

Looking up into a dark corridor, he whimpered, "Found it."

Velma sighed, and rolled her eyes.

Scooby only sniggered.

"Okay, guys. Let's explore."

"Like, do we have to," Shaggy complained.

"Yes," Velma growled, and for a moment Shaggy just stared at her.

"Fine. Fine. You don't have to bite my head off."

Scooby only sniggered at him.

"Just come on," Velma sighed, and headed into the darkness after pulling out her small mini-mag to light the darkness around them. "Let's see what we can find."

"I'd rather find the way out of here," Shaggy complained.

"C'mon, Shaggy," she sighed. "By now, you should be used to this game."

"What you call a game, I call trouble," he declared. Then froze as he heard manic laughter not far off.

"That sounded close."

"Too close," the lanky beatnik complained. "Let's go this way."

"Let's go this way," Velma corrected, and led them down into the opening of a genuine maze under the old hotel.

"Now what," Shaggy complained.

"I'll try this way. You and Scooby….."

"No way, man."

"Ricken," Scooby sniggered.

"You are, too," Shaggy charged.

"Ro," he sniggered again.

"Guys. I'll go check out the sounds. You can go find the others, and get them down here. With this kind of maze, we may need help finding all the passages so we can trap this guy."

"Fine. C'mon, Scoob," Shaggy declared, eager to be gone.

Scooby started to turn, then stopped, and sniffed again.

"What," his friend complained.

"Ry raying," he decided.

"You? S-S-Staying?"

"Rep," he nodded, and padded over by Velma.

"But….why?"

Scooby made a grunting sound, and even shrugged.

"Man, it's your funeral, Scoob."

Shaggy wasted no time in leaving.

"Thanks, Scooby," Velma smiled. "Even if I don't know why you did, I appreciate you staying."

"Ru rell good," he grinned at her.

"I….smell good?"

"Ru-huh," he nodded, and sniffed her again as they headed deeper in the mazelike tunnels.

"Not now, Scooby. Let's find…."

"You're in trouble, little girl," an indistinct silhouette in black growled. What was very clear was the very big gun in his hand pointed right at them.

"You're no ghost," she accused, staring at the big bore pistol in his hand. A .357, or even a .44. It was hard to tell just then in the dimly lit tunnel when he was just out of range of her light.

"You will be if you try anything. You yell, or try anything, and you're dead," the shadowy man said in a low, cruel tone. "Just keep walking. Straight ahead. Turn right there. See the door on the left. Inside."

"You know you can't get away with…"

The man shoved her forward, and she only realized Scooby was in front of her when she fell over him, and her glasses, and her flashlight went spinning away when she fell. Even as the door behind her clanged shut with a very final sound.

The man walked away, echoing that manic laugh.

Velma gasped as she reached for her fallen glasses, and felt the cold nose that suddenly probed between her thighs as she knelt there on the floor of their apparent cell. Suddenly she wished she tried to wear her usual panties in spite of her tail when she realized what he was doing.

"Scooby," she gasped, and then gasped anew when she felt his tongue slide along her heated lips that seemed to be reacting to his presence as if…

Even as she tried to assure herself she could not possibly be going into heat, Scooby suddenly lunged, and she realized her bare bottom was being probed by the very aroused Dane that was standing over her, and keeping her from getting up now.

"Hold on, now," she started to sputter, then yipped as Scooby just thrust hard, and buried his long, thick shaft in her from behind.

She felt as if her eyes crossed as the big animal thrust harder, and pounded his knot right into before she could try to push him away. Then he surprised her again, growling possess as he snarled, "Rine," even as she was rutted with genuine abandon by the aroused Dane.

It was only then that she realized her newly sensitive nostrils were picking up another scent.

Her own.

She was somehow giving off pheromones that obviously had Scooby reacting to her. In the small room where they were locked, the scent was all the stronger since there was no window. No vent. Just a stone chamber with a heavy, wooden door.

Scooby-Doo, just as sensitive as she was now to certain scents, was simply doing what even his animal instincts could not deny. Claiming a mate.

Even as he finally slowed, sighing in bestial contentment after filling her belly with his thin seed, he slid over her back, and then slowly turned to face away from her. As he did, her skirt fell away to reveal her tail secured under her baggy garment with a thin cord carefully tied to secure it in place.

Her longtime canine friend gaped, cocking his head, and then shaking it.

"Relma ra rog, roo," he asked.

"Uh, wolf, maybe," she grimaced back at the big hound.

Scooby stared at her, eyes round, and wide.

"Rah roof?"

She nodded as she knelt there, still bound to him by his swollen appendage.

Scooby's rounded eyes rolled up, and the big dog actually fainted.

Which dragged her down with him.

"Great," she sighed, and waited for his animal flesh to relax enough to release her. "This really helps."

SD

"Velma? Scooby?"

"You sure they came down here," Fred asked Shaggy as he and Daphne followed him.

"Yeah, man. But she was acting really weird. I mean, weirder than usual. Then she and Scooby ran off, and…"

"You guys aren't going to have another personality clash, or something weird again, are you," Daphne groaned.

"No way, man. Like, that scene is total history. Old news," he sputtered at her, sometimes disliking the redhead. She had been far from sympathetic during the whole on-again, off-again, on-again, and definitely off-again relationship whirl while he and Velma tried to sort out whatever attraction they once felt for each other.

Unlike Fred, who seemed to be oblivious to everything until it fell in front of his feet.

"Velma," Daphne called out as they neared the bottom of the stairs, lifting her flashlight.

"Whoa. It looks like a maze," Fred realized.

"Or," Daphne said. "A focal point for every secret passage in, and through the old inn," she realized.

"That, too," Fred readily agreed.

Shaggy just rolled his eyes.

And almost jumped when he heard someone banging on something.

"That way," Daphne pointed down a dark corridor with no lights.

"B-B-But we want to go away from the creepy sounds," Shaggy reminded her.

"And if it's Velma, or Scooby?"

"I'm not worried about them," Shaggy complained. "I'm worried about that g-ghost!"

They tracked the banging to a thick door, with a heavy bar latching the panel. It took Daphne, and Fred to pull it back, and then shove it open. Where they found Velma, and Scooby, both inside the room.

"Scoob! Man, I am glad to see you again, buddy."

"Re, roo! Relma's ra roof," the big dog informed him, eyeing her suspiciously as he now made a wide circle around her.

"Say what?"

The brunette glowered at both of them as she turned to her friends.

"Whatever is going on, it's not a ghost. Ghosts don't ambush you, and use a gun to force you into tiny rooms," Velma told them.

"So, another mask," Fred sighed.

"You sound disappointed," Daphne frowned.

"Well, we do run into a lot of them. I figured we were due for the real thing this time," the blonde grinned.

"The last time we found the real thing, we had to break a demon's curse that almost sent all of us straight to…..there," Daphne sputtered. "So, excuse me, if I think I'll take the mask."

"Whatever, this place is still creepy, man. So can we go?"

"Not until we catch this guy," Velma declared. "He thought he was going to lock us in there to die. That isn't the usual extortionist. We need to catch him, and make sure he hasn't hurt anyone else."

"I have to agree with Velma," Daphne agreed. "Who knows what this guy might do if he thought he was getting away with this stunt. Or even not."

"Right. So, the best thing to do is…..make him think he's succeeded," Fred declared.

"Huh," Shaggy frowned.

"Ruh?"

Velma sighed.

"I think I get it. We make it look like we bailed, but sneak back in to catch him."

"Exactly," Fred beamed. "Now, here's my plan," he said, and began to talk.

To Be Continued…