Changed
Tamed -- Part 1 Changing By Sans * * *
Introduction Hi! I"m Sans! I've been a huge fan of all the very talented furry artists out there but I've never had the courage to create something myself. I hope you enjoy this fantasy as much as I did writing it. * * * The streets were nearly empty late that warm night in June. It was just another late Thursday night in another red light district of another city. Before I start, perhaps I should introduce myself. The name's Sans. I'm a 26 year old dark, charcoal gray lynx, with midnight black spots adorning my coat, speckling up and down my arms, legs and back. My body is built lean and slender on a slight, agile frame. I suppose you could say it's exactly the type of build my ancestors might have had, but it's always been a curse on me growing up around the rich, but muscle headed Dobermans and tigers through school and even into college. A slim, almost feminine frame makes getting through an all boys' school pretty rough. However, my aggressive dedication towards my career has launched me into the fast path while they've all goofed off, partying in their posh, expansive houses and getting laid every night. It's hard to say why I was walking around this late on a Thursday night. You could chalk it up to a number of factors, boredom, a generous helping of alcohol to soften my inhibitions, or the complex network of lust and raw urges I call, simply, "my affliction." Perhaps my hard, driven passion for dominating my career and life has left an emptiness for my submissive side, like a calling that seems to never be satisfied. Each feeling of gratifying dominance over my peers every time I put them in their place, whether it's pointing out their mistakes on the job or watching them scowl when they can't beat my sales numbers, gives my insecure little helpless pussycat of a submissive side that much more power over me when it comes to sex. I started out at the hotel's watering hole. That's always how the desire gets churning. Boredom sets in and the urge to start moving becomes unbearable. I already know where my padded feet are going to take me but I flip the bartender a 20 and let them start walking anyway. Twenty minutes and two subway station exchanges later and I'm standing at the end of a street famous for debauchery. The ladies on the street smell yet another possible customer, and seem to ooze out of the woodwork and right into my path. I keep staring at the ground and politely keep walking, finally stopping in front of an obnoxious neon sign that blinks the name of the place - "The Green Lizard." One of these sex stores looked pretty much like the next, but this one was reasonably convenient and seemed moderately cleaner than the rest. I tossed my cigarette out and walked inside. I was impressed to find the store was much cleaner than I'd expected. The smell of fresh leather permeated the place as the deep, throbbing pulse of the techno music drove through my slim body. I kept my head down but I could sense the young dalmatian behind the counter's stare. I shook my head nervously, pretending to look at some straight porn until I noticed him going back to his magazine. I took a deep breath and waited patiently for another patron to finish his browsing and go up to make his purchase before silently slipping over to the clothing section. The reason for these shopping sprees is still a mystery to me. Even though I haven't had a steady mate in months, I have an impressive collection of g-strings, thongs, tights, and shorts of both masculine and feminine styles, but with an uncanny tendency towards the latter. If it was skin tight and shiny or lacy, I was attracted to it. As a feline, I have a tendency to keep my fur and my body immaculately clean and as fit as possible, but some of my friends say I sometimes can even take that a little too far. Professionally I'll spend as much time as it takes to look my best, smell my best, and perform my best. Sexually, my "affliction" tends to make me insidiously obsessive about primping and preening to be... as much as I hate to use the word.. "pretty." Tonight my obsession has taken over and I've lost track of how much time I've spent at a particular rack of slim thongs. I try to decide whether I want a bright colored g-string with an extra large size pouch or the shiny gold one that looks a little tighter but has a bit thicker waistband. I almost jumped to the ceiling as I heard the Dalmation's soothing voice behind me. "That's one of my favorites," he gushed, wagging his tail happily behind him. As I spun around his facial expression changed from a casual smile to mild concern at my surprised reaction. Obviously I wasn't the first skittish customer he'd ever come across. He put a reassurant hand on my shoulder and smiled as I struggled to come up with any excuse I could think of for being here. "I'm so sorry for startling you hon!" he exclaimed with a smile. "You have the perfect body for those," he said, gesturing towards the gold pouched g-string in my hand. "You've got a lucky boyfriend at home for sure." I could feel my face getting hot. Thank Gods I didn't have white facial fur. "I.. I.. don't have a boyfriend. I mean.. I'm not.. you know.. gay or anything." Oh Gods! I wanted to fade away. Not only was I telling him my private life, I was actually getting defensive to a clerk at a sleazy sex joint. "Of course not," he said with a self indulgent, 'I know better than that' kind of smile. "Well you know we have a 50% off special on everything on that rack tonight. Why don't you try it on? We have changing rooms in the back!" he chirped. I gulped, trying not to act as incredibly embarassed as I felt, but doing a terrible job of it. "No thanks," I darted my eyes at the floor, "I'm just.. looking around." "Well," he brought his voice down low, almost to a whisper. "I hate to say this, but this place has a horrible policy of not taking any returns, so you should try it on, kitty cat." My ears burned as the words "kitty cat" exited his lips. I've always felt the term was horribly condescending when other species said it to me. It was a term I'd only heard used on tamed female cats, the kind who came from the domestic side of the feline family. I took a deep breath and let it go. "Really.. I like it but I don't think..." Ignoring my protests, he looked me directly in the eye. His tail slowed to a stop behind him as he cut me off in mid sentence. "The dressing rooms are just back there. I'll go throw a curtain over the last one and let you use that one. I'll be right back." With that he promptly vanished. I stood there, feeling somewhat defeated and stuck in this situation with the shiny g-string's hanger gripped in my hand. ********** I looked around, the store had emptied out during our short conversation. I saw the lean, spotted legs reach up on their tiptoes as I glanced under the door of the dark back room. After rummaging for a while, he emerged with a long red curtain, tossing me a confident wink and grabbing a stepladder to help him throw together his makeshift attempt at making the wide open changing room into something semi-private. He finally finished, looking over his handiwork and gestured me in toward it. "Let's see how it fits!" he barked. Not wanting to argue, I quickly made my way to the back of the shop and into the tiny room with the long curtain hanging from it. I stood there for a moment, looking at myself in the full length mirror and shaking my head. "God I can't believe I'm doing this." I muttered under my breath as I reluctantly stripped off my pants, climbing into the gold g-string. After smoothing down my fur, I ventured a glance in the mirror, pulling my t-shirt up. Not bad! The pouch had just enough support to lift up my flaccid member and balls, showcasing my entire package in an extrordinarily complimentary way. The shiny gold material was soft, like it had been made from satin or silk, and not those cheap lycra fabrics. Though the pouch was plain, the string riding up the crack of my ass felt a touch scratchy, as did the waistband. "What the hell are these?" I wondered aloud as I just noticed the little plastic latch on either side of the waistband.. "Oooooh! Sexy kitty!" the dalmation's airy voice cooed from behind me. "I *knew* it would look incredible on you! I know a club where you'd have some real fun wearing these." My rational brain wanted to be completely outraged for the intrusion to my privacy, but all I could do was stand there. I couldn't decide whether to hide my crotch or my naked ass so I froze, timidly pulling my shirt down. The slender dalmation looked extraordinarily pleased with himself as he looked me over. Suddenly I heard the bell of a customer entering the store. "Take that shirt off silly kitten and try this." he grinned, tossing me a wad of fabric before waltzing off to take care of his next customer. "Helloooo" I could hear him in the distance in that sing-songy voice. "How can I help you tonight?" It felt like all the blood in my body had rushed to my head. The tenacity of that guy to poke his head into my booth, and THEN to call me "kitten!" My heart beat fiercely in my chest as insult, humiliation, and anticipation swirled together. I felt my trapped package begin to rise, filling out the soft pouch of the underwear as my emotions stormed through my head. ********** I glanced down at the soft light red shirt I now gripped in my balled up paws. Even as I scowled at myself in the mirror, I slipped off my shirt and replaced it with the sheer, see through shirt. It seemed to grip every one of my lanky muscles, accentuating them and wrapping my chest in its luxurious material. My mood softened as I gazed at the beautiful lynx in the mirror. It seemed like an hour went by as I waited for his return. I heard him talking to the customer at length, but couldn't make out what they were saying. My package had filled out the tiny thong I was wearing as I glanced around my shoulder to my backside. Oh my! I didn't even notice the sexy little frill on either side of the thong back. That's why it was so itchy, but it looked incredible! I was lost in my own thoughts and uncontainable lust when the curtain suddenly pulled back again and in steps the clerk once more. I jumped again and wondered how this guy padded around the store so quietly. "Oh dear! That is absolutely *perfect* on you! You're the sexiest kitten I think I've ever seen!" his voice sang with excitement. I finally was ready to stand my ground. "Hey! Stop calling me...." "You're gonna absolutely