Better This Way
Story by Jeeves on SoFurry
In a world mid-way through a transformation from a human to an anthro population, a skunk watches a human undergoing the shifting process firsthand.
This story was written for Catprog as part of my Patreon request days for March 2018. It contains transformation/gender shifting.
[center][b][u]Better This Way[/u][/b][/center]
I heard the scream from outside the bedroom window. My wife just rolled her eyes. We both knew what it was, and she'd seen more than enough cases at work not to be even the slightest bit interested any more. Still, I was, and she didn't begrudge me the chance. She kissed me on the bridge of my muzzle, and I slipped out of bed. Over to the window, pulling the curtains back and peering out onto the village green.
There they were, illuminated in the lamplight. The cries had at first sounded like they were coming from a woman, so shrill and strained. But now, as I looked, I saw that it was a man. Dressed smartly in a suit, jacket, trousers, shirt and tie, the works. Only... the jacket was unbuttoned, and the shoes he was wearing, even at this distance I could see that they were scuffed and worn. He had been running. Maybe trying to outrun what was happening to him, or what was about to happen to him. Either way, it was a foolish attempt. Finally, right in the middle of the green, he fell to his knees and toppled forward onto all fours. I saw fists slam futilely at the earthy group, again and again, harder and harder as he cried out mindlessly, interspersed by the same question I heard from all those who resisted.
"Why?! [b]Why[/b]?!"
A few more lights went on around the green, and I saw more curtains twitch as others began to peer out. Some looked like him. Human, that is. More looked like me. Anthro. Soon, the number would change once again, further in my favour.
God, that makes it sound like some sort of competition, or a war. It isn't. It's just... well, y'know. It's better this way.
You wouldn't know it of course. Not looking at him. The way he was thrashing, screaming. You'd think it hurt, but... there was no pain. Not even a shred of discomfort. Just fear. Dumb, ignorant fear. I felt it too when I changed, and I volunteered. After my wife came home as she is now, a beautiful wolf, how could I not want to change. If it was that, or never touch her again, I had to change. For her.
And when I did, when I stood before her not as a human, but as the skunk I am now, she hugged me. And kissed me. And she told me that everything would be better now.
And it was.
This guy though... god, I wished I could make him understand. As I saw him tense up, and stare down at his hands. Hands that were shaking, but that weren't pale in the light of the street-lamps any more. They shone now, with a silvery glow as lush fur began to spread across his arms. Soon he was clutching at his face, and it was changing. Shifting. I heard the tone of his cries change, screams turning to plaintive, frantic mewlings. Then to snarls. Then to roars as the change continued. He tore off his jacket, ripped off his tie and... began to unbutton his shirt. At first I was confused, then I saw why. I glanced back over at my wife, and nodded to the window. She sighed, but came over and looked.
Only about ten percent of us shift gender when we change. Sure you can change body type, I've heard stories about a four hundred pound guy turning into a ninety pound mouse. But, while body type changes can be an issue of their own, going from one gender to another... that's gotta be one hell of a trip as it happens. She was clutching at her breasts as they grew, like she was trying to hold them in, to keep them from forming. She still didn't understand that this wasn't something she could will her way out of. It was something that was happening to more and more of the world every day, and she was just one of millions that day who would brush against or purposefully make contact with an anthro, and change.
This was a chance for us all. A chance for the whole world to leave behind whatever we were before. To cast off our past issues and emerge anew, reborn in flesh and mind with a new outlook. A better outlook.
She roared again as a tail burst out from behind her, long and lush as it too rapidly sprouted fur. My wife was already putting on her clothes, having grabbed a spare shirt for the feline woman down below to wear, and a blanket in case it wasn't her size.
"You should bring pants too."
I murmured without looking away from the window, a sizeable hole now in the back of the feline's slacks where the tail had burst forth. Her change was almost complete by that point, and she was grabbing at herself, tugging at her fur. I winced as she slapped herself across the face, no doubt hoping to wake herself from this dream. She didn't, of course. If this was a dream, it definitely wasn't [i]her[/i] dream.
My wife departed, and I kept an eye on the now almost entirely transformed feline to see whether the woman I loved would arrive before or after the switch. I watched as the cat... a snow leopard I think, kicked off her shoes, flexing clawed toes as the socks she'd been wearing, already torn to shreds, were peeled off too. I think she was crying. Staring at her new body in shock, in confusion and horror.
And then...
Then, the switch.
They call it that because it's like a switch is flipped. You don't forget who you are. You don't lose your memories, or your sense of self. But... you aren't angry any more. You aren't afraid. You realise the truth.
The truth that all of us anthros know, and that the humans remaining are learning as they live with us, even those who have locked themselves away and who refuse to even risk coming into contact with one of us.
It's better this way. Life is better. Everything is better after the change.
I watched my wife walk out onto the green, and offer the blanket to the snow leopard. They talked. I couldn't hear them, but I could see the expressions on their furred faces.
They were smiling. Laughing.
They walked off the green together, side by side, and back towards our house. I could already see curtains falling back into place across the street. Mine did too as I raced to get dressed in something remotely presentable, something more than boxer shorts.
I wanted to make a good impression, even if I might never meet this woman again. After all, if we were going to be the first people she spoke with at the start of this new chapter of her life, I wanted those memories to be good ones.
The door opened. I smiled.
She smiled back at me, no trace of the tears, the anger, the frustration I had witnessed her former self experiencing just minutes before.
Life was better this way, and I could see in her eyes, fresh as she was, that she already knew it.
By Jeeves