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Disclaimer- This story will absolutely spoil magic for you. If you don't want the illusions to be ruined (or you might be against say, Strange Semi-Mystical Transformational Animalistic Eroticism that Blurs the Boundaries between the Genders) than I suggest that you quit reading now for your own safety. [This is a pornographic story, don't read it if it would be illegal for you to do so.]

A Good Magician . . .

The art of misdirection is so universally adored because we are willing to let ourselves believe, even if just for an instant that the laws of reality are malleable. It offers a brief respite from the terrible idea that what we see may ultimately be all that we get. When magic is involved we briefly forget reason and for just a split second believe that there is a quarter behind everyone's ear and that doves might be spontaneously generated strictly for our own amusement.

It was this allure that drew Porter to the establishment of Zee and Slade's Dinner Theater that night, to help forget about all the money he had just lost at the track. It had been a sure thing, a perfectly safe bet that would have kept him in the green for another month and a half, but the horse had to roll over and die not fifty feet from the finish. He couldn't even watch the ensuing carnage as the other animals trampled the corpse of Sharp Marbles and his jockey barely escaped with his life: Little bastard had probably just pushed the animal too hard, or they were juicing it. Either way, lady luck and a pack of debt collectors had it out for him that night, and so he decided to spend what he had left on booze and silly tricks.

The early acts were lame Vegas shows: lots of sequins, pyrotechnics, and boxes full of scantily clad ladies. It wasn't really that Porter had any clue how the tricks were done, but rather that after you duct taped a bunch of sparklers to anything it becomes roughly thrice as hard to respect. This being said, the build up to the final act really got his blood pumping, no explosions, no blaring music, just a man in a fine tailored suit wearing a bow tie and casually walking onto the stage. Where all of the other magicians had been spangled, this one reeked of class, even his name sounded pompous: Cason Clarke. It may have been the excitingly lack luster introduction, or the five empty low-ball glasses in front of him, but either way, he was very ready to see some real magic.

"Thank you ladies and gentlemen. It is my duty tonight to show you something magical," his voice was sharp and aloof. It commanded the attention. "It doesn't matter what I do, so long as it remains inexplicable." he waved his white gloved hands dismissively. "There's no real use in pulling rabbits out of hats, but as long as it remains physically impossible, it can be deemed a sublime miracle," the whole bar was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The audience didn't know whether to be entranced or insulted.

"So let's get the simple tricks out of the way. You ma'am," he pointed to a woman in a blue dress eating dinner with a man twice her size at a table up towards the front. She pointed to herself questioningly, setting down her fork with a clink. "Yes you. Pick a card."

"From what?" her voice was quiet, but the room was still enough that it carried throughout the stillness.

"Doesn't matter. Tell me your favorite one if you want."He scratched his forehead idly, as if dealing with such simple people was a chore.

"Umm, seven of . . . .clubs?" she looked up questioningly, shrugging her shoulders

"Great. That's a classy little card really," he looked bored as he brushed some imaginary mote of dust from his shirt. "Did you like this card enough to bring one with you?"

"Well, no I . . ." she stammered, confused by his questioning.

"You might check under your glass madame," he raised an eyebrow with a cocksure grin.

"You mean . . ." she lifted up her wineglass tentatively. "But I don't see anything," she looked up through the glass stem of her pinot noir while the man she was here with rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. Something about being a hack.

"No, no." the magician decreed. "You're not looking hard enough," with a casual leap, he stepped off the stage and walked up to the table with a measured gait, gloved hands behind his back. "Sometimes you have to peer beneath the surface of things." Quick as a flash his white gloved fingers grasped the tablecloth and yanked it off the table, upsetting not a single dish as the audience let out a collective gasp.

Eh, Porter wasn't having any of it. That was just a parlor trick. He'd tried it out when he was a kid, and gotten pretty good at it, but his mom grounded him for a week when she came home to find half of their family plates cracked on the floor.

"There you go, have a look now," his voice dripped with amenable purpose as the woman reached below where her glass had been and grabbed something. "Is that your card madame?"

"Yes, oh my god," she giggled nervously, holding the card aloft as the audience clapped and whistled.

"But someone who likes the sultry seven of clubs as much as you do wouldn't be caught dead with only one, oh no, you'd want to share them with your special someone. Sir, would you care to look under your plate?"

The man gave a sigh as he dropped his steak knife with a glower and lifted his plate up between both palms. What he had expected was to see a card lying there, but what he got was a deluge of cards from the underside of his plate falling over the table like leaves in a windstorm, every single one a shining seven of clubs.

Even Porter applauded for that one, even though with a trick like that, the couple had to be plants of some sort.

"Now I know what some of you are thinking," Cason Clarke's quiet voice drew in the rooms attention immediately. "That could have been staged. Where's the _real_magic?" the man at the table was still sifting through the cards strewn out between the dishes, pointing them out to his girl in a way that was hard to believe it was staged. But even then, Porter knew that some people made a living doing just that; living a lie.

"So let's push the boundaries shall we?" the magician calmly wheeled a small stand covered in some kind of velvet drape out to the center of the small stage before tugging the fabric aside to reveal a placid under-lit aquarium filled with gently bubbling violently turquoise waters.

"Now, this isn't going to be fun unless we put some money on the line, now barkeep, may I please have one of your tabs?" the young bartender's eyes went wide as the crowd's heads swiveled around to stare at him. He gestured to the back questioningly.

"Yes, preferably someone who's racking up their bill hmmmm?" he grinned as the vest wearing liqueur tender awkwardly trotted down the aisle and gave him a slip of paper before slinking back to his post.

"Excellent, now let's see, Porter Bridges? Do we have a Porter Bridges who has ordered, let's see, five glasses of Jack on the rocks and a Salisbury steak?" he turned an eye to the crowd.

Heart pounding in his chest, Porter slowly raised his arm. This kind of thing never happened to him, but he was ready; ready to figure this guy out.

"Excellent, would you be so kind as to join me on the stage sir?"

The audience was all staring at him. Even if he had wanted to refuse he couldn't have. This was show-biz, and the show must go on. Rising to his feet, he trod silently up to the stage as the circus master held his hands out and the audience gave him a polite round of applause.

"Alright sir, is this your tab?" Cason held the receipt up in his hands theatrically before offering it to Porter.

Taking the slip of paper in his hand, porter shrugged. "I guess so," The total on the tab was for sixty seven dollars and eighteen cents. What the fuck had they been putting in the whiskey to make it cost that much? And the Salisbury steak was good, but not that good. He nodded nervously and patted his pocket absentmindedly, not sure if he even had that much on his person.

"Well sir, you've run up a tidy little tab," the crowd sniggered as Porter blushed and clenched his fists. Leaning conspiratorially over his shoulder, the dapper-suited man asked, "how would you like to make it . . . disappear?"

The audience loved it, taking the time to clap and holler. As the magician handed him a fat permanent ink pen. "Now, to make it unique for our dear audience, would you please add your John Hancock to the back?"

Taking the pen with a raised eyebrow, Porter took off the cap in his teeth and scribbled his signature on the back of the ticket. Pausing to think a second, he added the three lines of a smiling face and then ran the marker down the side so that it seeped into the front and back of the thin paper. It was fool proof to his own slightly inebriated mind.

"Yes indeed, we have a man here with artistic talent," the audience watched as Porter held up the scrap of paper to let them see his wavering black lines. "Now," the well dressed figure strode across the stage self importantly. I'm going to stay on this side of the stage so that no one accuses me of any mere slight of hand. Would you please approach the tank behind you Mr. Bridges?"

Doing as he was told, Porter walked up and took a precursory glance at the vivid blue bubbling tank. It looked just like a fish tank with no top on it. "Now, if we were to sink this ticket to the bottom of the tank, would you be able to get it back out?"

Shrugging, porter nodded, "Sure," he rolled up his sleeve and dunked his hand carelessly into the water. When he pulled back his skin came up dyed a vibrant azure.

"But, there's no way for you to do it without being caught red, or in this case, blue-handed!" There was an 'ohhhhh' of understanding from the audience.

Porter scowled as he found a simple towel on the push bar of the trolly and wiped off his hand, scowling at the blue pigment that had seeped into his skin.

"Now, to make this a little cleaner, would you please put the note in this capsule?" with no warning, the stage magician tossed a small clear plastic container that Porter's slightly tipsy hands barely managed to catch. The drunk was no rube though, he inspected the simple snap together plastic that reminded him of cheap Easter egg hunts. Both ends were loaded with little metal weights, probably to make it sink; but other than that, it was completely mundane. He tucked the note inside, and held it up for the audience to see.

"Excellent, now my good man, just drop the whole thing into the tank. Yes there we go, which, as previously demonstrated will mark whoever tries to fish this little bit of dept out," he pointed dramatically as he enunciated his words. Porter watched the container bob to the bottom of the tank, he could still see the black and white scrawl of his handwriting on it. "Now, only one thing remains, could you please put the cover back on the tank dear sir?"

The magician praised him as he draped the fabric back over the rectangular glass tank. It felt pretty good being on the center stage with everyone's eyes on him, but he was getting pretty tired of taking orders being and treated like some kind of drunk oaf.

"Good, now wait just a moment, yes, indeed, alright. Aaaaand I've got it." the crowd was quiet. No flashes? No explosions? No sparkles?

"What, you don't believe me? Ladies and gentlemen, real magic doesn't require cheap tricks to dazzle the senses: Instead it dazzles the mind. Now then, Mr. Bridges, you can remove the curtain now.

Porter's brow furrowed as he thought about it. Cason was still on the other end of the stage; there was no way he could have gotten to the egg. Even if he had, and there was a secret panel in the tank, all of the water would pour out. . . Peeling back the red velvet the audience held its breath as he looked in the tank. "It's still there," he said, feeling triumphant, like he'd seen through the simple trick.

"Ahh, yes. Would you be so kind as to fetch it?" the audience laughed as Porter shot him a glare full of daggers. "The dye's not permanent. It'll wash out," he simpered.

As the canny magician spoke, Porter's eyes narrowed in on the tank. The capsule was still there, but, he couldn't see the distorted black scrawl that was his writing on the inside. Reaching in with a sudden paranoia, he yanked back his sleeve and came back dripping bright blue with the clear capsule. "Empty . . ." the audience was as mystified as he was, and there were a few awkward claps before the master of the trick waved them to silence.

"But it wouldn't be any fun if I didn't show you where it went. . ." the grinning charlatan reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, unfolding it before the watchful crowd's careful gaze. Holding it up casually for all to see, he asked, "Mr. Bridges, is this your tab?"

With awe approaching reverence, Porter approached the other side of the stage, carefully reaching out and snatching the paper. It was the same. Five whiskies, Salisbury steak. Sixty Seven dollars and eighteen cents. The one edge had ink that bled through and he turned it over to reveal his hasty signature grinning back up at him with a simple smiling face.

"Yes . . . Yeah. It's mine. It's the same." he held up the paper as the audience stamped their feet and cheered, making the moderately drunk Porter blush and look down as he held the paper aloft.

"But! I told you I'd make it disappear, so . . ." with a gout of flame, the receipt burst out of existence in a plume of heat that made Porter cringe and bat his hands against his shirt, smearing it with blue as the audience laughed and cheered, some even rising to their feet as the performer took a bow. "You've been a lovely audience, and I hope to see you all again. Adieu." With a sudden flourish, the triumphant entertainer took another bow, and without preamble, stepped offstage as most of the audience began to shuffle around towards the exit while the applause died out.

Porter was left standing there on the stage but no one seemed to be watching anymore. Clenching his blue hand, he looked around, wiping again on the sodden towel. There was no way he could just return to his seat after this; he'd been humiliated in front of everyone, and what's more what he'd just seen was completely impossible. With the telltale impaired decision making that follows the consumption of hard alcohol, he turned and walked backstage, determined to figure out how the trick was done.

The hallway stage-left was dark. It reminded him of walking through a warehouse in the night. There were a couple stage hands milling about, but he just saw the smug bastard's long coated figure slide into what must have been his dressing room at the far end of the hall. Stomping down the gloomy passage he muttered to himself, grabbing the door's old brass knob and throwing it wide open.

"Ahh, Mr . . . Porter was it? Please feel free to come in, but close the door behind you." He stood there completely shirtless and bare footed in front of and old steamer trunk where his jacket lay carefully folded.

Suddenly loosing the wind behind the sails of his ire, Porter stepped in with an awkward reddening of his cheeks and slowly closed the door behind himself. The room was dimly lit by an old yellowing lamp and there were some musty racks of old stage clothes against the dim walls and an old wine colored velvet covered sofa worn bald in a few places.

"Now, let's see if I know why you're here," the slender young man sat on the old overstuffed couch in the center of this cluttered, but actually quite large room. "First, you're angry because you think the audience laughed at you. But I can tell you this, they weren't laughing at you. No, they loved you," he lounged back, one now bare foot over the other. "You were acting as the universal sensory apparatus for the whole audience in the most intimate of ways. They laughed out of wonder and delight."

"Well, yeah but . . ." Porter grumbled, trying to come up with a better line of reasoning. Damn, this guy was like some kind of psychic. He kind of wished that he'd put his goddamn shirt back on. For a skinny guy, he was quite well defined.

"Second, you're probably wondering how I did it. You were up there, you could see everything I could, and yet it still seems inexplicable," fishing out a slim silver cigarette case from his pocket he proffered one to Porter who begrudgingly accepted.

"Yeah, it had to have been mirrors in the tank right? With a false back or something." Porter fished around for technical terminology as he leaned in for a light. This guy was a real smooth talker, he realized that he was more curious than angry now, feeling like he'd just walked up on the stage again.

"Well, there is a simpler explanation you know, one that no one ever considers because it's simply too obvious. . ." a trail of smoke rose towards the dimly lit ceiling as he waved his smoking cigarette in small circles.

"Like magnets or something?"

"Wouldn't it make a whole lot more sense if it was just magic?" he raised an eyebrow inquiringly with a coy smile.

"Oh, hardy har har. Jesus, just because you developed some kind of trick doesn't make you some kind of messiah." Porter took a hard drag on his cig, head still swimming through the fumes of the whiskey. "If you're so magical, then prove it. Give me three wishes or something, make this fucking blue on my arm disappear."

"Just because I claim it's magic doesn't mean that there aren't rules involved. Just that the rules in question are different. I'm not some djinn here to entertain you, and anyways, wishes rarely work out in the end. Ahhh, but I'm babbling now aren't I? And we've reached the terrible impasse; for you see, a good magician never reveals his techniques."

"Tricks you mean. God. All you show biz types are the same." Porter stood up with a huff. He'd had about enough of this.

"But," the word hung in the air. "There's no rules about teaching an apprentice . . ."

Spinning around, Porter's bottom lip jutted out as he considered, mind percolating slowly. "Alright, how's this. If you can convince me that you're some kind of cosmic magical man before tomorrow I'll be you're stupid assistant. But if you fail then you owe me a thousand green back bucks." No way the asshole would accept terms like that, but it was worth a try, and it felt good to be calling the shots.

"Those terms are acceptable." the magician smiled, breathing blueish smoke from his nose slowly with a grin. "But, as my apprentice, you have to follow my instructions. I wouldn't want you getting hurt just bungling around blindly with forces you don't understand."

Porter thought for a second. Fuck, he could just blunder around for a night and walk out with a thousand dollars, almost like he'd actually bet on the right horse. It's not like magic was anything that could be proven anyways, just smoke and mirrors.

"Well?"

"Alright friend. You have yourself a deal." Porter leaned in, grinning around his cigarette as he shook the man's thin fingered and surprisingly strong hand with a drunken gusto.

"Then until morning, you are my apprentice. Now, let's start with something very basic." Standing up, he leaned over his open trunk, fishing around until he came up with a small silver medallion on a thin chain. "Put this on," he handed it to Porter matter-of-factly.

"What's this?" Porter held it up in front of his slow to focus eyes. It looked like a very stylized cat of some kind in sterling silver.

"Remember, you're my apprentice. You have to follow my instructions or the bargain's off . . ."

Grumbling, Porter slid it over his neck pulling at the small silver cat to get a better look at it. It was kind of girly, but was also very heavy for its size. Eh, what harm could it do.

"Good. Now. A few things about magic. Just because it doesn't operate around scientific principals, does not mean that it doesn't follow rules. If I could teleport things at will, what's to stop me from clearing out Fort Knox? Well, in the case of tonight, the particular ritual involved needed to be attuned. It needed to be connected to someone, and very recently so. Every minute that slip of paper was out of your possession it lost a little bit of what made it magically salient." He took a drag on his cigarette with a grin. "Magic is often remarkably specific."

"No kiddin'" Porter leaned back in his chair, mind wandering as the fraud pattered on. If it had to follow so many rules and such then it wasn't really magic at all, was it.

". . . And that's how the necklace there pertains to you. If it were mistakenly placed on someone else the spell might be uncontained, nasty business. But anyways, it is quite a lonely job being on the road as often as I am, so sometimes I like to get a little creative with my nocturnal company," his eyes wandered over Porter's sprawled out form hungrily.

"Hey, I'm not that kind of guy. All I'm here for is 'magic lessons,' leave your kinky bullshit out of it." Figures the guy was some kind of sicko.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of forcing you into anything. But now that the amulet's becoming nice and attuned to you, I don't imagine I'll have to," Cason snubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray as Porter's eyes widened and his nostrils began to twitch. "Yes, that's right, I bet you smell something good don't you? Having the senses of a much greater beast than yourself can be quite an adventure."

"I don't know, huh," Porter panted taking in that growing deep musky odor, a clinging animal stench that exploded into his mind, strong, earthy, and masculine in the best of ways. "I don't know what you're talking about," he finished distractedly, nose raised.

"Oh, I'm sure you do. Just get a whiff of that smell. It's really turning you on isn't it. Deep. Sensual. Feline."

"N-no. I just, fuck off . . ." Porter was interrupted by his own huffing. He had to know where that smell was coming from. The magician casually rose from his velvet perch and walked towards him, light flesh bright in the dimness. As he stopped, standing proudly in front of the man Porter's head spun about, sniffing closer and closer to the source of the delicious smell until his nose bumped off of something and then recoiled in shock.

"Don't be scared my little kitty. It's just a little change in perspective. I probably smell like a big strong cat to you don't I? No no, Don't be shy. I know that a nice little kitty like you just can't help moving in to get a closer smell. . ." Directly in front of the enraptured man's face, the entertainer slowly unbuttoned his fly, revealing the sought after scent's source as the smell intensified tenfold.

"No. Just don't. Don't. . ." Porter stumbled over his words. Don't what? All he wanted to do was get closer to that alluring smell, so sandy and catty, rich and masculine. No, no, just really . . . good.

"See, sometimes magic is all about a change of perspective. If your senses can be shaped into something that you want to believe then often reality can be made to follow suit. And that's exactly why I know you're going to love being my needy little kitten."

Porter kept pulling his head back, mind and senses fighting for dominance. He wasn't attracted to this guy at all. He just wanted to get to that big rippling muscly feline smell. And now there was another scent rising in the air, an acrid hot blend of pine and lust that was equally attractive to his panting nostrils. But it didn't' seem to be coming from the staged quack . . .

"There you go, just take a nice deep breath, in and out," Cason's voice took on a relaxing melodious tone, sinuous and hypnotizing.

"What did you do to me you bastard, I uggh," he shuddered, leaning forward onto his hands and knees as he pulled himself closer to that smell, brushing against thin fabric.

"Nothing really, I've just given you slightly better senses, like giving your body a set of glasses to hone in on the fine details. Oh, and I suppose I gave myself the scent of a big strong musky tom. You like that don't you?"

"No! I don't know what your talking about . . ." he pulled himself up onto the edge of the couch, huffing up a black pant leg towards the source of the smell. "This isn't right, I shouldn't be . . ."

"Oh indeed. How observant you are. This isn't the way you should be at all. Where are my manners, I should be helping you fix this." Leaning down, his slender finger tapped against Porter's nose cutely. "This thing is so crude, it doesn't suit you at all. You need a puffing pink wet little kitty's nose surrounded by soft velvet."

Porter's face felt strange, like his sinuses were filling with insistent indescribably tight pressure. He wanted to shout out, but instead of pain all he felt was a coaxing pleasure as he could feel his body warp into something bizarre, wet puffing pink nose all the better to catch that strong musky male scent. . .

"And of course, we'd be remiss to forget a cat's twitching ears," his hand stroked over the top of Porter's head slowly as his ears began to perk up, twitching and smoothing out as they crept pleasurably up the sides of his head, expanding into large gray velveteen tufted things that folded back as Porter suddenly shook himself.

"This is all some kind of trick. You just drugged me, or hypnotized me, or something." his mind raced as a tentative hand brushed past his flickering ears in disbelief. This was impossible. His body felt like it was burning up, skin hyper-sensitive as it rubbed against his clothes.

"Oh, I can't take all the credit for this. This, like most magic, requires willing participants. And look at you, down on your knees already. I can really see the animal just rising up within you. Bet those clothes are starting to get particularly uncomfortable, all scratchy and hot," his soothing voice oozed out like honey.

"N-no. Just shut up. Am I dreaming? Is this . . . fuck . . ." Porter mumbled to himself, running a hand over his chest as if to make sure he really existed. His eyes widened in shock, the sensation was more intense than he imagined it would be, and his hand paused on its own accord, rubbing through the fabric of his shirt.

"There's a way to think about it. What if this is all just a dream. A consequenceless little romp created by your pickled little brain. Wouldn't you want it to be a_nice_ dream, hmmm? Something where the laws of reality couldn't hold you back from your own pleasure?"

It just seemed so reasonable, so right. Porter's eyes closed as he leaned back, one hand scratching against his sensitive chest while the other undid his buttons one by one. He didn't even have to think about it, as it felt so nice to peel the fabric off of his hot and sensitive body.

"There you go, what a good little kitty. Just slide up here on the sofa next to me, just like that. Don't be shy. Kitties don't need to be bashful," a snide grin crept in from the corner of his mouth. People were so easily distracted sometimes. He brushed the backs of his fingertips across his budding apprentice's cheeks where a thin coat of downy gray was sprouting.

"Oh, you can keep your eyes closed if you want. That way your other senses will be all the sharper. Hmm, and is that a purr I hear building up within your chest?" his hands traced down Porter's writhing form, guiding the changing man's hands over his sensitive pectorals as he pulled himself behind him, bare chest against the light forming fur of the man's back.

"There," his hands squeeze in against Porter's. "Just feel that soft warmth; grabbable flesh just begging to be caressed. And those swelling nipples, taut and pink, brushing against your soft leopard's fur . . ."

It was a beautiful dream, and Porter sank back as the magician guided his own hands over his changing form; over his tight nipples and smooth silky fur.

Wait, fur?

Eyes pulling open reluctantly, Porter's purring stopped abruptly as he looked down over his budding furry form, a spotted gray fading into a snowy white between his soft supple . . . Breasts!?

"This isn't right! Something's going on here . . ." what was he going to do? His mind raced. He could call the police, but, no one would believe that he'd been a victim of a magic trick

"Oh I agree, it's not right at all. But don't worry my sweet little feline, it's all going to get better. Your body will make it all right, getting rid of those little human imperfections that you hate."

"Whu. . ." Porter panted, before his body tensed and his head turned up, moaning as a dextrous hand crept under his arm and loosened his fly, snaking down to clench at his package through his drawers. As he rumbled out a ululation of bliss, his mouth revealed sharpening teeth just past his now thin black lips and a rough broad cat-like tongue that licked out and scraped across his puffing pink nose while he took in that dominant male odor that reeked from that impossible man. But he realized what that other smell was, that fiery acrid tang that made him squirm in delight. That was him. That was his own scent; sultry, animal, and making his own fanged mouth water. He wanted both, to have to pick between the two would be torture.

"Mmmmm, yes. I can see that my little kitty familiar just loves this, and look at that pink little nose just sniffing away. Smelling me just makes you change more you know? But that's what you want isn't it? To be my writhing mewling little kitty girl?" his hand condensed as the zipper to Porter's fly slowly crept down while he kneaded the man's blazingly hot flesh.

"Ohhhh, your fur's getting nice and thick, fluffy and dense," his other hand combed through the thick forming pelt all over Porter's body before stopping to rub broad circles over his pillowy white belly, making his charge's legs writhe and scrape against the stained hardwood below.

"Stop being so goddamn condescending," Porter managed to growl out gritting his teeth as his hands moved of their own accord, drifting towards his supple swelling chest, so tender under his fingertips as fur began to cascade down his shoulders.

"But, don't you like it?" he groped around Porter's hot dick, kneading the flesh back against his body. "Feeling the new sensations as a million fresh follicles light up your supple new hide. Stroking and rubbing at yourself as you become better, svelte, toothsome . . ." He squeezed, pulling back as Porter's spine stiffened and his crotch lit up in sensation. His balls were being forced back against his skin, but it didn't hurt, on the contrary, they only felt better and better. A a thin ribbon of sensation lit up between them while the rubbing hand seemed to loom ever larger over his cock. He couldn't tell if he was hard or not, but it felt so good, like all the nerves from his penis were condensed into a single tight nub of flesh.

Porter was silent. He couldn't admit that he didn't like this, that it didn't feel good. A bass purr rumbled in his chest as his forming breasts slowly sprouted a thick coating of fur, leaving his wide pink nipples surrounded by silky white fluff. This guy might be a bastard, but for the moment, Porter didn't care, he just wanted more.

"Mmmmm, there we go, such a good little kitty. Almost there now." The kneading hand became a firm rubbing pressure as Porter felt the coolness of his moistening crotch against the sodden fabric rubbing against it. "Oh my yes, just a good little kitty, and just look at your broad fluffy little fingers, pulling back into adorable paws. That feels good doesn't it, suede pads brushing against your taut nipples while your claws grow in to tickle your sensitive flesh. Such a good little girl. . ."

Suddenly it all clicked. Porter's eyes shot wide open, revealing his now bright blue irises as he stood up abruptly, pulling the elastic waistband of his wet boxers out as his hand whipped down to his crotch. His pants fell down around his changing ankles as they pulled up into a tight animal joint while his feet swelled into broad stable and sensitive leopard-like paws, making him stumble a bit. "Girl!? You sick fuck, why I outta . . ." his hand brushed against the wet spot on his boxers, cutting off his threat with a sharp intake of breath. "I'm gonna, ohhhhhhh" his finger pressed experimentally inward as he gasped, pulling down the boxers again to give him a view of his moist animal pussy crowned by a pink pulsing clit. His other fist clenched, black claws sliding out tensely against his padded palm, still faintly blue from the dye.

"See, you know that you like it. Anyone would in your position," the nimble man reached forward, leaning behind porter as his hand grasped between his legs, reaching up across his labia to massage his straining clitoris with sensuous little circles.

It made his mind explode with pleasure; a warm pulsing sensation that jolted through his bones in a way he had never felt before, as he was overcome by pleasure, hands against his knees as he bent down and raised his ass a fraction of an inch.

"Hmmm, kitty likes it." Two fingers spread his labial lips while his other pressed in hard against his button clit. "And what have we here?" the other finessed hand ran down Porter's thick pelt, combing past his dark rosettes to just above his ass and pulling something gently. "Ohh, I can feel it tug, and I bet you can too. Pulling and jerking out, joint by joint as it gets all fluffy, just perfect for a sexy little kitten like you."

It was impossible to concentrate around the pressing in on his clit and the pulling out on his new long fluffy tugging . . . tail? A mrrowl escaped his lips as he licked past pointed teeth with his rough tongue into the empty air. That scent still hung on the edge of his senses, an ever-present alluring musk that was now almost overshadowed by his needy female feline spice. He did feel good; strong and svelte in the best of ways. His spine bent in a way it never could have before as his whole body gyrated, his tail pulled out that final crack of length as it floofed into the majestic plume of a snow leopard and his pink animal anus tugged out horizontally below it, jerking as the appendage began to swish about, developing tight feline muscles.

"Yes. I think you're getting the idea my cute little cat. Didn't that feel good? Don't you want to test your new body out?" the insinuation hung in the passion filled air like thick smoke.

An idea percolated through Porter's new sharp feline senses, something to make this a lot more fun. His new form was amazing. A little awkward, but he had to admit, it felt nice, right in a way that made him uncomfortable to admit. But this guy. This Cason Clarke was the same pasty asshole he had been when they started . . .

"What, oh yeah, sure, I mean, ahhh, oh yes. You're so right," he tried to purr out the words at the end, amazed with the low sultry tones his new leonine throat could produce.

"I knew you'd see things my way, like a good little girl," the magician smiled, reclining victorious on the purple velvet of the sofa.

"Oh, yes. I know just how to reward you. You uhhh. . . sexy man you," Porter flicked his tail experimentally, smiling a catty grin as the man's eyes followed it. He padded experimentally on his broad strong paws to behind the couch where the man reclined, placing his soft hand-paws on the boney smooth skinned shoulders.

"Mmm, yes. Just give into the feelings," the man leaned back in satisfied triumphant comfort as his new apprentice for the night began to rub at his shoulders in a tight kneading massage. Just the way he wanted to relax after a night of mystifying the masses. His musings were interrupted as something warm and heavy settled around his neck.

Looking down Cason's eyes settled on the sterling form of a stylized cat. "No! You're not to meddle about with my magic. Take this off of me right now!" he turned around crossly, starting slightly as a wet pink rasp of flash stroked all the way up the side of his face.

"Why don't you take it off, I'm your 'apprentice' not your butler, and I think it's done with me . . ." he pulled back purring, hands running over his fluffy white and gray fur, across the supple mounds of his soft breasts.

"You don't understand how any_of this works! The amulet is attuned to _you, if I take it off the spell will become disjointed. Without my tools, I'm not even sure the enchantment would let me . . . So be a good little kitty and take this damn thing off of me before this very strictly one person spell corrupts both of us," his eyes wandered as he spoke, watching his creation tease and stroke himself.

"Awwww, just think of this as me returning a favor," Porter leaned in, inches from the agitated man's face, whiskers twitching with mischief. "You said that anyone would be crazy not to enjoy this, so why don't you just relax. . ." he finished with a purr.

"I'm not going to relax while you muddle up months of my work to . . . Ummmgph!" The cat leaned in and pulled his head towards that feline face, tongue lapping into his shocked mouth and scraping past his gums and palette, wet pink nose huffing against him as Porter slathered the inside of his mouth in almost mocking feline adoration.

"You crazy bitch! Cease this, or we both might Agghhh." Porter rasped his tongue up to the man's nose before nibbling against it, taking it in his powerful jaws and squeezing and licking until it began to change, pulling up into a perfect pink huffing feline organ. And Cason had been right, it was pretty sexy.

"If I'm a bitch than I'm going to make goddamn sure that I'm not your_bitch." Porter growled as he shoved the perplexed sorcerer off of the couch roughly. His downy arms were much stronger than they looked. He stepped over the couch and knelt above his once-captor's head. "I bet _you can smell me now. Even I can, and I like it. So _lick_lover boy." He pulled the stunned man's head against his glistening hot feline slit.

Cason tried to pull back, but those paws yanked him forwards, as he struggled his breath came in ragged pants, drawing that peppery female lust directly into his mind. His pink changed nose twitched, overloaded as his tongue automatically lapped out and brushed tentatively against that glistening labia. His body lit up. He could taste the passion physically, and his body felt hot, he needed more.

"Ohhh. There we go. Yesssssss. Just work that tongue as, ahhhh, MmmmMMM! I can feel it getting all rough! All the better. . ." he trailed off into a feline yowl of pleasure as Cason's face began to push out into a blunt white and gray feline muzzle, ears twitching into folded back points as his eyes closed and he lapped and scraped into that clenching spiced tunnel that lit up his senses in a way that made the rest of the world seem distant.

He couldn't help himself, feeling his senses honing as that female flavor came into sharper and sharper focus on his writhing rough tongue. Porter's paws only drew his face harder against his soft furred crotch, nestled between his silky strong thighs as almost instinctively, Cason's tongue pushed, straining inside as his supposed apprentice's tail shot up, yowling a feral scream of bliss, claws clenched around his head, holding Cason in place as he scraped the insides of that clenched hot tight passage that jerked and pulled him forward, clouding his mind with hot peppery lust.

"Wha, What have you done!?" the magician panted, pressing a hand to his changing face with chagrin as Porter lounged back against the sofa, watching with with a smile and a twitching tail. "This is a strictly single person spell," his eyes darted side to side as he decided to tray something desperate, grasping the silver chain and trying to pull it up over his head as he rose shakily to his feet. There was a brief green glow and a flash of light that toppled him onto the sofa, dazed.

"Oh, was that more magic?" Porter rumbled as the performer fell onto his furry lap. "Ahhhh, it must have been, just look at all these changes." He stroked a broad padded finger down Cason's back. "Thick fluffy pelt, cute little spots, and in the front here we have something new." His ice blue eyes beamed as he pulled the man close to him. "Tight little budding breasts. Oh I know; feels good right? Amazing. Warm and sensitive." Leaning forward, Porter pressed his soft bust against the man's forming mounds, clawed hands sliding in to squeeze and knead them together while the the horrified magician moaned in pleasured shock as his nipples thickened and brushed against the insufferable cat's deliciously soft and smooth flesh.

Cason Clarke's long pink tongue licked across his chops distractedly as he pulled back, mind racing. His shocked eyes faded to a rich blue as his changes accelerated, whiskers twitching out along his feline muzzle as he panted up the lusty female scent hanging in the air. "What will it take . . . to make you take this off of me? It's of the utmost importance," he gasped, trying to ignore the amazing electric tingles running down his arms, leaving a dense silken coat of gray with complex black spots.

"Oh, and I thought you were the one in control here," Porter growled with a sensual tone. "I think, what I really want to do, is get to that musky fiery feline scent you've got down there," fingers following the wave of descending fur over that tight belly, he ripped open the magician's pants, claws rending through the fabric as his paws tugged off all of his remaining clothing with predatory efficiency. "After all this, it'd be a waste to just stop now."

"But the spell will become unstable and could have any number of . . . unnngh," he was interrupted as a rough feline tongue scraped his hard member from base to tip in one luscious stroke.

"Oh, don't be bashful. I know you want this, just look at how hard and needy you are. Mmmmrrrrrrr,"

the purr sent vibrations through Cason's spine as she leaned in between his legs. Porter's puffing pink nose was going wild. The scent was so strong down here, but beginning to change, becoming more complex as his masculine must was joined by a familiar spicy note. With an upwards grin, Porter took the throbbing length into his mouth slowly, cradling the testes below it in one soft paw while he bobbed his head over that throbbing need.

The sorcerer couldn't think straight. Whatever the result of his magic gone awry might be, the feeling of that rough wet muzzle suckling at his cock took precedence. He grabbed the cat's head, massaging fluffy ears absentmindedly as he moaned. Turgid member jerking, he could feel her ridged palate and the smoothness of her long sharp fangs.

As Porter kneaded the balls together in his hand their fleshy skin began to tighten, pulling them back as they swelled and developed a dusting of soft downy white fur. The member that he lapped and nibbled at was twisting, pulling back as the skin gained a distinctive charged flavor and intriguing texture. The changing magician huffed and then let out a strange mewling yell as his resistance against the scraping tongue increased dramatically. With a final squeezing suckling lap that elicited a jolt of pre, Porter drew backwards, purring at the strangely alluring sight as he licked his black lips slowly with his rough pink tongue.

A bright glistening pointed pink prick peeked out of a loose white animal sheath of smooth fuzz. Around the end there were strange hair-like spines that made Porter oddly wet just thinking about them. "Ohhhhh, and what do we have here?" he stroked the compact feline prick, making the magician shudder. Rubbing at the tight furry scrotum one last time, Porter's fingers came back wet, covered in a peppery acrid tang that made his mouth water. "And there's more?" he purred as he lifted up the testes to reveal the glistening tight folds of a forming feline female sex.

"Wh, what are you doing? Cason's voice was hoarse as a new feeling of impending bliss rose in the pit of his stomach.

"Just helping out a very needy little kitty," Porter leaned in huffing across the smooth flesh before inhaling deeply; the perfect blend of those two delectable male and female scents. Slowly, he scraped out with his now finessed tongue, sliding around the edges of the wet swelling labia. Cason's spine arced back in shocked pleasure, one hand raising up to grasp his taut breasts while his fingers condensed into clenching smooth animal paws. His other dared to tentatively brush against the side of his bizarre pointed member, making it jerk as his pussy lips clenched and writhed below while Porter's hot deft tongue rubbed brazenly past the throbbing nub of his new clitoris.

Nose rubbing against those soft squeezable balls, Porter rest his tongue on those labial lips as his own paw snaked its way between his own legs, and rubbed against his needy clit. Pressing in, the pink slip of rough flesh spread Cason wide, licking at the inner clenched orifice as he pawed at his own slick pussy with growing need.

The tongue entered him in a rush of heat and unimagined pleasure, making the changing magical man's hands grasp back behind him, tearing rents in the cushions with straining claws while the tongue pressed in and scraped out of his throbbing cunt. Jerking out a clear quivering bead of pre, his pink pointed prick pulsed as his newly forming vaginal walls clenched, tightening as a pressure built up inside of him. With a sudden lunge of intense pressure he felt a sharp crack just above his ass as a vestigial tail pressed out of him, jerking and tugging against the velvet sofa as the slathering maw strained into his taut insides.

In long vertical strokes, Porter ravished the swelling cunt, licking up past the slick lips, grinding past the clit to jostle the tight feline testes nestled there. The forming tail quickly fluffed out into a great dense long gyrating appendage that twitched and tugged with every clench of his insides; anus stretching into a pink feline orifice below its downy base. Moving his hands down Cason's tense legs, Porter coaxed along the softness, rubbing down while the thighs grew strong and animal while his heels pulled up and his feet began to swell out into sensitive broad paws that he intertwined his animal fingers with, feeling them tense as he lapped at the man's swollen pussy as tufts of fur sprouted between every toe pad.

"Hah, you. Unnngh, don't know. What you've done!" Mr. Clarke managed to pant out as the sultry feline pulled back from his now svelte form.

"Done! Oh, I don't think we're done yet," the sultry feline purred as he rubbed a finger up the needy reddish spike of Cason's erection collecting a drop of clear pre. "And I know that you're not finished yet," he brought the glistening digit to his thin black lipped muzzle, licking it slowly, savoring the thick male taste, the perfect contrast to all that femininity.

Cason's tongue ran across his lips sympathetically. He wanted more . . . "But I don't know how this is even . . ." he panted out.

"Let's worry about that later. Right now let's just deal with that hot fuzzy body of yours. Just listen to it. Feel it." he stroked his paws over the soft flesh of Cason's breasts. "Your sexy little body is screaming, 'Fuck me'" he reached a hand down to cup the heavy taut furry balls under that pink spire of throbbing lust. "I think we should listen to it." He leaned in for a quick kiss, their whiskers brushing together before he stepped up, straddling Cason's form, tail wagging about needfully as he slowly lowered his aching folds onto the hot flesh of the magician's pulsing pink cat-like cock.

Their breathing both quickened as he slid inside of that hot femininity, engulfed by the smooth insistent pressure of Porter's slick insides. But that was nothing compared to when the sultry feline pulled his hips back up. They both yowled out wordless shouts of sensory overload as his barbed dick scraped against those sensitive walls, grinding back maddeningly before he rocked down again, incredibly slick and smooth in contrast to the scouring a half second ago.

Cason's toe-claws scuffed the floorboards, as his legs tensed and scrabbled for purchase and his hips started bucking of their own accord. Pulling himself in tighter, Porter purred as their breasts mashed together, the rumbling of their purring resounding through each other as their taut nipples were dragged against silky warm fur and flesh. Behind him his long fluffy leopard's tail whipped about irritably as those spines scraped against his sanity with their delightful insistent drag against his hot slick quivering insides.

He couldn't resist anymore. Leaning in, Cason's broad paws drew Porter forward into a deep kiss, tongue exploring around that feline mouth. The roughness of tongues scraping against dark lips and smooth teeth was a delightful echo of the grasping spines that electrically lit up both of their senses while they gently scoured those hot tightening twisting female insides. Tongues entwining, their bass rumbles of pleasure merged into a growing lusty growl as their motions became fervored, desperate; passionate rocking redoubling while they embraced, jostling thickly furred breasts mashed against each other.

Porter could feel a deep welling molten heat rising within him as he squeezed around that rocking spike that stretched him wider and wider while his pussy clenched and his tail flickered around wildly. One of his mischievous paws slid down Cason's heaving sides as he continued to rock his hips, grinding up and down with wild abandon. His claws tensed out, combing through the huffing magician's fur as they slid past his wide sexy hips.

Cason's pink slip of a tongue lapped up at nothingness as Porter broke the kiss, pulling himself tighter against him, breasts compressed maddeningly as the wild man pressed his chin against Cason's furry shoulder, purring quick breaths of excitement as the feline's hand traced back, down the magician's furry thigh. Balls aching, his member jerked and pulled, pressure building up inside of him as he neared an overwhelming precipice with every body rocking shove.

Feeling around behind himself, Porter brushed past his own clenched pink anus, tight and straining as his tail whipped around. He groped lower, letting out a moan as those precious spikes prickled past his insides while he gave those hefty furred orbs a teasing squeeze with his broad paw, eliciting a jolt of pre as his own cunt leaked out a clear spiced pleasure around it. All he wanted was to finish this, to feel the warmth of jolting feline seed explode within him, and he knew just how to get what he so desired.

Their thrusts synchronized as a strange tense silence formed while they each ground wordlessly against one another, chests burning with sensation as both broad dark fluffy tipped tails wagged erratically in anticipation while they rumbled as one. Porter's clever padded fingertips found what they were looking for, sliding under tight testes across the glistening wet lips of Cason's clenched pussy, making his balls clench and his burning hot kitty cock writhe on a hair trigger.

Porter's deft finger opened him wide, sliding between the clenched labial folds as they quivered and another furry digit brushed against the pulsing nub of Cason's needy little clit. Making cute stifled little moans, Cason's mouth hung open, pink tongue lolling as he leaned back and his tail straightened up behind him. Porter slammed his hips down over his aching dick as his blunt slickened finger sank into him, spreading his clenched jerking insides around his slick padded digit. Cason screamed as his balls twisted, jostled about by Porter's wriggling wrist as his barbed spire throbbed and arced up, loosing wet hot waves of pleasure into that needy feline passage that began to madly clamp and contract, muscles going wild as they both reached the searing climax of orgasm.

The finger inside of him writhed deeper as his pussy began to jerk and twist, balls above it squeezing his hot feline jism out in molten waves. His yowl of pleasure was strangled as he felt a sheathed claw gently slide out and ever so carefully trace back past his inner walls in an imitation of the barbs it craved. Cason's hot pussy contracted wildly, leaking out waves of bliss as his testes writhed harder and Porter slammed against him with bestial lust coaxing out more pressured jets of fiery seed inside of his arrhythmic contracting cunt. Their breasts jostled as they squeezed, scraped, clenched and fucked every last ounce of pleasure out of each other in a rocking animal cacophony of fiery feline lust that was constantly redoubled in a strange circle of taut animal bliss.

Collapsing against each other on the shredded couch, their breathing slowed as they both caught up to reality, Cason's animal prick retreated as a thin dribble of both of their passions leaked down Porter's exhausted fuzzy thigh. There was a creek as light flooded into the room.

"Mr. Clarke, we just heard some noises and uh . . . we uh . . ."

"Just . . ." he sputtered, "rehearsing a new trick with my . . . assistant." His voice was raw and throaty. "Shut the door or I'll report you to the manager!" The door slammed closed with an awkward soft click and a whumph of air.

"Assistant hmmmm?" Porter slid up against him. "I think I could get behind a job like that."

"Well you're certainly not going anywhere until I figure out how to fix this colossal mess you've made," he sighed, grabbing the amulet around his neck tentatively and then tossing it to the floor with a disappointed groan. The magic had been completely leeched out, most likely into the both of them.

"I made!? You're the one who started it you bastard," they both pushed back against each other, sitting up in the still dimness, staring over their perfect forms, almost mirrored images of gray spots, long silky tails, and supple breasts.

"Well . . . if you're going to be my assistant, I can think of some amazing illusions we can achieve with two nearly identical forms, we could claim this as . . . costuming for the time being. . ."

"Smoking hot ones," Porter squeezed his own breasts with a deep breath. This wasn't where he had imagined the night going, but as things stood, he really didn't have any complaints. "But, uhh, if I'm going to be your assistant I'm going to need a little something first,"

"And what would that be?" Cason Clarke rubbed a paw against the side of his fluffy head with both exasperation and exhaustion.

"Well, you see, I'm a little in the red after the track today, so unless you want a collection agency of the brass knuckles variety after us, I might need a little bit of a forwarding on my salary . . ."

Oh dear lord. This was not going to be an easy partnership. " . . . how much?"

"A thousand dollars?"