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Mychael was a lonely man. He was average height, plain looking, and was socially awkward. Everything about the man was either average or below average. Everything, that is, except his job. He was a very well paid man. Unfortunately money can't buy you good friends or a respectable woman and a very common thought for him was "maybe one day someone will like me."

Friday nights were the highlight of his week. After work he would meet up with a few 'friends' at a club or bar, buy them drinks and watch them interact with each other and make jokes at his expense but that part wasn't the highlight. He would always leave about ten o'clock and head into the hills. He had found a chimney sticking out of a hill off the road and after investigating once has made it into a ritual to come out and talk with the little old lady who lived in the hill. She was his only real friend and they would sit at their respective ends of the chimney and chat the night away. Sometimes Claire would be working on something and other times she would just sit by and listen but always she was a kind word and a friendly voice.

This night was no different from any other Friday. For maybe the fifteenth time this year he had found the girl he was trying to get interested in him off with another man. It wouldn't be so painful if they would just outright reject him but they always accept his gifts and seem partially interested if only for a little while. The last one he bought a $2000 diamond necklace which she was wearing while out with some macho guy with arms the size of logs and he had just finished complaining about it to Claire.

"Why can't I just find one person to like me, Claire? You're the only person who will actually talk to me and I've never even seen you." That was only complaint with his relationship with her. He rarely brought it up and it's never said spitefully. "Why do women always go after the tough guy anyways when the not so handsome guy can provide for her better?"

Claire just laughed for a moment, "Mych, you must understand. Women want someone who will protect them just as much as provide for them. The big guy with the bulging muscles will scare off most problems while you would invite them. I would, however, call the girls who accept your gifts and leave skanks. That just goes against everything decent."

He got a quick chuckle out of that one, "I see your point, as usual. The better they look the tougher the guy they go after. Sounds like a defense mechanism. It would be nice if they didn't need them."

They bantered back and forth for a few hours. Mychael found himself idly playing with his lucky coin towards the end of it. He looked at the night sky for a moment and watched a shooting star fly past before he heard the ping of metal on rock. He had just enough time to glance down before his coin disappeared into the chimney and plunked into a pot of something, "Oh! I'm so sorry. I dropped my lucky coin down your chimney! I hope you didn't have anything over the fire I just ruined!"

"Oh don't you worry, dear. Nothing was ruined. I won't be able to get your coin until tomorrow though. Come back by tomorrow night and I'll bring it out for you, okay?"

"Okay. Good night, Claire. Sorry again. I'll be back tomorrow night, same time as usual."

Mychael was glad his place wasn't that far away with how tired he suddenly found himself. By the time he made it home he was too tired to strip down for bed, opting for climbing into his bed and falling asleep in the fetal position. He didn't move from that position all night.

Morning came and with it came odd sensations. He felt lighter and thinner and his clothing felt loose. He sat up and pulled back his blankets but didn't pay any attention to his body. The only thing that clued in his mind for the moment was going to the bathroom. His smaller feet had slipped out of his shoes in bed and he walked barefoot towards the toilet. He never noticed his longer hair in the mirror, didn't see his shapely hips as he walked and didn't notice the lack of anything between his legs until he pulled down his pants to take a piss.

Everything came crashing down on him as soon as his hand met a soft, flat patch of fur instead of the sheath he was used to. Instantly awake he looked down and saw the fur covered slit between his legs. He finally looked into the mirror and saw the same cheetah fur pattern but the features were all wrong. Thin high cheek bones, long flashy lashes, and a petite muzzle adorned his face where round cheeks and a thick muzzle had been just yesterday. He quickly removed his clothes so he could see if everything was real and changed. He was shocked to see, and feel, decent breasts on his chest, a flat stomach, wide curvy hips, and long sexy legs. His hair was long and wavy and came to the middle of his back. For a second he forgot he was looking in a mirror and was actually turned on by the scene until he noticed the freaked out expression on the cheetah's face. He wanted to freak out and run around like a chicken with its head chopped off but was brought back to earth when he remembered why he was in the bathroom to start with. Sobered up for the moment he tried to relax while he sat on the toilet.

A thought crossed his mind as he finished his business that was slightly random. He checked himself once again and realized how much of a mess he made of himself just from the act of urinating. He remembered his mother always reminding his sister to wipe when she was finished and now he knew why. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked to the pile of clothing on the floor now. Clothing was going to be an issue. He thanked his bad luck that he had a dress in the closet purchased for a woman he was trying to woo who just might be the same size as he was now. His breasts were a little smaller than hers were but in retrospect they were still larger than most cheetah's at a small C cup and still perky. It was a shame he didn't have any bras to go with the dress but thankfully the weather was warm.

It was the weekend, thankfully, and he didn't have to worry about what would happen with work. He was an accountant so being a woman was not an issue, but he was worried if they would accept the strange tale as truth or kick him... her out. He really could not wait until tonight to talk to Claire and see if she knew anything about what had happened. He had a feeling that she would know what is going on but why was a mystery to him. It was only ten in the morning, though, so he had twelve hours to kill before needing to be at Claire's. If only there was some way for him to contact her and ask if he could come over earlier.

The dress felt like it fit well. It slipped right over his head and hugged his new curves better than anything she had seen on other women. He stepped into the bathroom to see exactly how it fit and marveled at how perfect it was. How something could fit so perfectly was beyond him, but the dress accented every curve from his perky breasts and firm, flat stomach, down to his full, soft hips, and even his long, slender legs. He looked everything the perfect woman and it frightened the hell out of him.

He didn't want to get hit on by every jerk in the city. Didn't want to deal with the cat calls, the whistling, the jocks trying to force their selves on her. He had seen it happen so many times but the women always rejoiced in it. They wanted the strong, meat-headed, athletic types to be around. Even the ones that had little money but still looked good got more action than he had. Suddenly he wanted to drink.

He hated drinking. Loathed. Despised. Detested. There wasn't enough words for the emotion in the dictionary but right now he needed it. He reached for his pants to pull out his wallet and noticed them gone. He stepped out into his room and instead saw a purse on his bed. Confused he walked over to it and opened it. Inside was his wallet but the ID stuck in the front no longer matched his old self. It now held the smiling image of how he looked now. Things were not adding up properly and he stepped over to his large closet only to find rows and rows of shoes and dresses.

He had heard of magic before but it was so rare that no one knew what it was capable of. That was the only thing he could imagine capable of changing his life this much. His clothes were changed, his identification was different, and his body was different. What else was going to change for him as the day wore on?

He slipped on a pair of black flats to go for a walk. If he was going to drink he needed to get some money out of the bank first. He didn't trust credit cards for anything and the only one he had was for emergencies.

Mychael grabbed the purse and stepped outside his condo. Whatever was happening, he didn't want to sit inside all day moping about it until that night. He'd rather mope about it over a glass of Jack on the rocks. His condo was on the eighth floor of a ten floor building so he had to endure a few stares and glares from other individuals in the building as he made his way down. By the time he was out the door and on the street he was already extremely self conscious about his appearance. He was thankful no one approached him but he certainly received plenty of cat calls and whistles. He was almost ready to bolt back home and lock his doors until the welcome sight of his bank came into view.

He felt nervous walking up to the ATM, especially with the finger print verification at this bank, but it gave him no trouble and allowed him to pull out 100$.

The only bar he ever felt comfortable in was also just a block from the bank so within a few minutes he was walking in the doors. He noticed it was only noon and they had only been open for an hour at this point so it was quite dead inside. There was one group of guys in the back drinking beers but no one was at the bar, much to his relief. As he sat down, the bartender slid over a glass of jack and ice with a smile, "morning, Mychael. You looked like you wanted something stiff today."

The bartender rarely talked to him but somehow he even knew what drink he wanted, "I... Yeah. I've had a rough night." He rubbed the bridge of his nose as the barkeep pulled up his own stool across from him.

"You'll find someone some day, Mych. You're bound to find someone interested in more than your money and body." The guys in the back snickered at the comment and the barkeep shot them a glare. Mych just sighed. He really didn't expect much from them. The barkeep pulled out a magazine and showed it to Mychael and what was on the cover rose his hackles. There he stood, in a small red dress he was sure was not in that closet and showing more leg than he ever would have dared with the title "millionaire bachelorette of the year". His jaw hit the floor and as he looked on he started picking out the photoshopped portions.

"Good grief. They even had to photoshop me! Now I'm sure I'll get more unwanted attention!"

The door dinged as another person walked in. Mych had his hands over his eyes and did not see who they were but they sat next to him. They smelled of old spice. When they ordered a rum and coke he got curious and risked a glance. He was another cheetah, like Mych, only was much more muscled than his scrawny self had been and his hair was spiked. The face though was very reminiscent of his old self and the newcomer glanced his way before he caught himself staring. He blushed more out of embarrassment than anything and turned away to take a swig of his jack.

The new guy smiled at Mych, "see something you like?"

Mychael just rubbed between his eyes for a second, "sorry about that, you just really remind me of someone I used to know. He wasn't as muscular as you, though. I couldn't help but see the resemblance."

"Is that so? Maybe I know him? He could be a relative of mine?"

Mychael shook his head, "no. He didn't have any family. He wasn't close with anyone, really. He is just a distant memory now." He gave it some thought while his companion sipped at his drink, "I feel like I should look for him though. I kind of miss the guy. Thank you, though." He set down a 20 and headed out. The new guy and the barkeep exchanged a glance as the three guys in the back got up and followed, though.

Mychael didn't pay any attention to the cat calls or whistles the whole way walking home. He just held the purse in a death grip over his front while thinking about his old self. That one guy really did look like him. Just buff, and with better hair. Cheetah are inherently thin so to see one that had spent the time to get muscles was rare. Still, though, he couldn't help but feel déjà vu from meeting him. Unfortunately, Mychael was so lost in his thoughts that when he keyed in the enter access code to his condo he didn't make sure the door closed all of the way behind him. Why should he? No one followed a boring looking skinny guy into a building.

As soon as the elevator dinged to go up he was immediately regretting his carelessness. Three wolves in dark clothing and hooded sweaters were upon him. He partially recognized them as the three in the bar by the clothing and beer he smelled but that did little to help as they dragged him into the elevator. Mychael kept scrambling to get out and keep the doors open but eventually they got a good grip on him as one was pulling out his cock. They pulled up his dress and grinned at the fact he was wearing nothing under it and Mychael closed his eyes as the doors came to a close. No one had hit a button so the elevator stayed at the first floor but that didn't help as the huge wolf started rubbing his cock against Mychael's slit. He tried to struggle for a bit until he was slapped hard across the face. As soon as he stopped the big wolf rammed himself in dry. Mychael hadn't noticed he was a virgin but he certainly felt it from the intrusion.

"Holy crap this one is tight!"

"Check it out boss! Look at all the blood! This one was a virgin!"

"Hell yeah! We haven't had fresh meat since that farmer's daughter in Kentucky!"

Suddenly the doors opened and the wolves stopped. Mychael felt them stop moving and dared open an eye to see why. There standing in the doors was the cheetah from the bar. He looked pissed. What one cheetah could do against three big wolves was beyond Mychael though. His hopes went up when the cheetah stepped in and kicked the first guy in the nuts full force. As he dropped like a rock the other ones dropped Mychael to take care of this intruder. To his credit, the cheetah was dodging blows pretty well until he knocked out the second with a blow to the temple. While the cheetah was taking the opportunity to knock out the one, the other used the same opportunity to land a heavy blow to the back of his head. The wolf dropped, but so did the cheetah. As he was laying on the floor dazed, the leader of the three started stomping and kicking the cheetah while he was down. He completely forgot about Mychael behind him though until he received a few solid blows to his testicles from behind and passed out from pain. Mychael, still dripping blood from his nethers, stepped over to the cheetah to make sure he was alive. He found a pulse and immediately called emergency.

"Please state your emergency."

"Help, please! I was just attacked by three wolves. A bystander came to my aid but now he is not doing good either. I'm on the first floor of 1400 caulder drive!"

"Alright ma'am, we'll dispatch a med unit to you. Are you alright?"

Mychael sobbed, feeling the searing pain from the intrusion, "no. No I'm not. I-- I'm losing a lot of blood. Please hurry. I don't know how much longer these wolves will stay unconscious."

"Your assailants are still there?! Ma'am, try to get somewhere safe!" There was no response and the dispatch got worried, "ma'am?" She heard the phone clatter to the ground before hearing a deep growl followed by a chocking sound. She immediately put a rush on the dispatch and hoped the police would show up in time. She heard a wet slapping sound for a minute before police arrived. The words she heard uttered during the call she would have nightmares about for weeks to come. This was one of the things she hated about her job.